Something Longer
Ian and Devon were staring at a computer screen in their office. It was a vast, empty office with no walls, just three desks and three PCs.
“This isn’t working, it keeps failing on the third iteration,” said Devon.
“Then fix it, dude, it’s your animation code,”
“True enough, but it’s built off of your framework. The base code just can’t handle it,”
“The base code can handle it, just change the approach,”
“Excuse me,” came a voice from the far side of the office. It was a young woman, no older than twenty two. “I’m looking for Project Eight Gaming?”
“Welcome, you must be here for the interview,” said Ian, stepping out from behind the desk as she approached them.
“Yes, Melisa,”
“I’m Ian, this is Devon, take a seat over there and we’ll get started,”
“Sal haar soos n perd ry,” said Devon.
“I understand Afrikaans,” she said, distaste in her voice.
“Jip, she does,” said Ian after he quickly flipped through her CV. He looked down at his watch and realised what time it was. “Dev, I’ve got a few things to go take care of, you think you can handle this?”
“Yeah, sure,”
“Your logic check is broken,” Melisa said and pointed to the code being projected on a screen next to Ian’s desk.
“I like her,” said Ian and clapped Devon on the back, “she just fixed your problem for you,”
Ian was standing in a scenic are in the middle of the mall surrounded by people. But he wasn’t there to look at the women and strike up conversation in the hopes of finding a date. He was there to see what his handy work had wrought.
Within seconds of him arriving, a man got up from one of the tables taking his laptop with him, and was apprehended not three steps from where he had been seated. Ian smiled, another successful hunt. He turned around and saw a man in uniform pointing a gun at him. He did the only thing that made sense: surrender.
“Ian Erasmus, we’ve been looking for you for a while now,” said an Indian woman.
He was in an interrogation room, it had been a good hour or two since he had been arrested. He was unsure as they had taken his phone, pistols and watch from him.
“Do you know why you are here?”
“I’m guessing I did something wrong,”
“Oh, you could say that again,”
“I know you,” said Ian, suddenly recognizing the woman, “Scorpions, Cyber Crime division, you’re the head of that division,”
“Good, that saves me explaining why you are here then. You’ve been hacking into our networks-”
“That’s a misnomer,”
“Very well, mister Erasmus, you’ve been gaining unauthorised access to our networks, but lord only knows what you’ve been doing. We found no worms, no viruses, no tampered or stolen data. In fact, every time you access our networks, we get anonymous emails from inside our own servers.
“You’ve sent anonymous tips to almost all my agents, four such tips to Monroe, she’s actually taken leave because of it, citing that she’s going to have a nervous breakdown,”
“She can handle it, that’s why I gave her more tip-offs, the others tend to fuck it up,”
“Mister Erasmus, I’m going to ask you two questions. First, why?”
“You want to know why I crack your system, then tell you were to find other crackers, crackers than have stolen money, data, identities, attacked government installations and caused the entire Gauteng Metro to grind to a halt for ten days?”
“Yes,”
“Because I can. And because no one else can,”
“I see,” she said, standing up, picking up her file and walking to the door.
“Wait, you said two questions,” said Ian.
“I think I already know the answer to the second question,” she said and left.
Ian turned his attention to the table and the paper in front of him. It was an application form. His details were already filled out, all he needed to do was sign it.
Hours later, Ian opened the door and entered the house. As he closed the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of a bow being drawn. He lifted his right hand, spread his fingers and bent his ring finger in towards his palm. In the darkness, it appeared that two thirds of his ring finger was missing. The bow string sighed as the tension was relieved.
“That’s how you signal that you’re home,” said Ian switching off the light.
“Where were you?” asked Edward, placing the bow on the island and the arrow back in the quiver on his back. “We were about to call the police,”
“Oh, good guess,”
“What?”
“I had a slight run-in with the scorpions,”
“What!”
“It’s nothing serious, just a slight misunderstanding that now became a job. You’re looking at their newest Cyber Hunter-Killer,”
“Cyber Hunter-Killer?”
“They’ve got some fancy name for it, Civilian Trace and Diagnostics Consultant or something,”
“Oh,”
“Yeah, but if you don’t mind, dude, I’m gonna crash,” said Ian and headed to the staircase. He ascended one step then turned back to Ed.
“Don’t you have a meeting with a publisher tomorrow?”
“Yes, but it’s just a possible publishing deal,”
“Still, it’s something, break a leg,” he said and continued to bed.
“This isn’t working, it keeps failing on the third iteration,” said Devon.
“Then fix it, dude, it’s your animation code,”
“True enough, but it’s built off of your framework. The base code just can’t handle it,”
“The base code can handle it, just change the approach,”
“Excuse me,” came a voice from the far side of the office. It was a young woman, no older than twenty two. “I’m looking for Project Eight Gaming?”
“Welcome, you must be here for the interview,” said Ian, stepping out from behind the desk as she approached them.
“Yes, Melisa,”
“I’m Ian, this is Devon, take a seat over there and we’ll get started,”
“Sal haar soos n perd ry,” said Devon.
“I understand Afrikaans,” she said, distaste in her voice.
“Jip, she does,” said Ian after he quickly flipped through her CV. He looked down at his watch and realised what time it was. “Dev, I’ve got a few things to go take care of, you think you can handle this?”
“Yeah, sure,”
“Your logic check is broken,” Melisa said and pointed to the code being projected on a screen next to Ian’s desk.
“I like her,” said Ian and clapped Devon on the back, “she just fixed your problem for you,”
Ian was standing in a scenic are in the middle of the mall surrounded by people. But he wasn’t there to look at the women and strike up conversation in the hopes of finding a date. He was there to see what his handy work had wrought.
Within seconds of him arriving, a man got up from one of the tables taking his laptop with him, and was apprehended not three steps from where he had been seated. Ian smiled, another successful hunt. He turned around and saw a man in uniform pointing a gun at him. He did the only thing that made sense: surrender.
“Ian Erasmus, we’ve been looking for you for a while now,” said an Indian woman.
He was in an interrogation room, it had been a good hour or two since he had been arrested. He was unsure as they had taken his phone, pistols and watch from him.
“Do you know why you are here?”
“I’m guessing I did something wrong,”
“Oh, you could say that again,”
“I know you,” said Ian, suddenly recognizing the woman, “Scorpions, Cyber Crime division, you’re the head of that division,”
“Good, that saves me explaining why you are here then. You’ve been hacking into our networks-”
“That’s a misnomer,”
“Very well, mister Erasmus, you’ve been gaining unauthorised access to our networks, but lord only knows what you’ve been doing. We found no worms, no viruses, no tampered or stolen data. In fact, every time you access our networks, we get anonymous emails from inside our own servers.
“You’ve sent anonymous tips to almost all my agents, four such tips to Monroe, she’s actually taken leave because of it, citing that she’s going to have a nervous breakdown,”
“She can handle it, that’s why I gave her more tip-offs, the others tend to fuck it up,”
“Mister Erasmus, I’m going to ask you two questions. First, why?”
“You want to know why I crack your system, then tell you were to find other crackers, crackers than have stolen money, data, identities, attacked government installations and caused the entire Gauteng Metro to grind to a halt for ten days?”
“Yes,”
“Because I can. And because no one else can,”
“I see,” she said, standing up, picking up her file and walking to the door.
“Wait, you said two questions,” said Ian.
“I think I already know the answer to the second question,” she said and left.
Ian turned his attention to the table and the paper in front of him. It was an application form. His details were already filled out, all he needed to do was sign it.
Hours later, Ian opened the door and entered the house. As he closed the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of a bow being drawn. He lifted his right hand, spread his fingers and bent his ring finger in towards his palm. In the darkness, it appeared that two thirds of his ring finger was missing. The bow string sighed as the tension was relieved.
“That’s how you signal that you’re home,” said Ian switching off the light.
“Where were you?” asked Edward, placing the bow on the island and the arrow back in the quiver on his back. “We were about to call the police,”
“Oh, good guess,”
“What?”
“I had a slight run-in with the scorpions,”
“What!”
“It’s nothing serious, just a slight misunderstanding that now became a job. You’re looking at their newest Cyber Hunter-Killer,”
“Cyber Hunter-Killer?”
“They’ve got some fancy name for it, Civilian Trace and Diagnostics Consultant or something,”
“Oh,”
“Yeah, but if you don’t mind, dude, I’m gonna crash,” said Ian and headed to the staircase. He ascended one step then turned back to Ed.
“Don’t you have a meeting with a publisher tomorrow?”
“Yes, but it’s just a possible publishing deal,”
“Still, it’s something, break a leg,” he said and continued to bed.