Chapter 32

Day Time

 

 

Angela unstrapped herself from her rig and helped Parker out of his. Jaden didn’t require her assistance. They deposited their headgear on the table and changed out of the cybersuits. Angela led the agents to a conference room and showed them a stocked refrigerator and how to work the coffee machine.

“Help yourselves,” she said. “I’ll go round up the founders.”

She left them and hurried to Maxwell Morris’s office where Maxwell, the Days, and Xperion’s lawyer, Anand Patel, were waiting. Angela stopped at the office door and steadied herself. Meeting with the Days one at a time was challenging enough. Talking with them together could be excruciating. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

The room was quiet and dim. The only light came from the partially opened blinds. They’d been waiting for her, and she got the impression they had done so in silence. Everyone, including herself, was dressed in black. It looked and felt like they were attending a funeral. Maybe they were. Maybe it was their dreams of wealth that had died. If the security threat posed by the Anomaly didn’t frighten investors away, a serial killer targeting Xperion’s customers surely would. The beats per minute on her watch’s heart rate monitor were in the red as she closed the door behind her.

Her eyes first found Jasmine’s but moved to Marcus’s and stayed there. Those who did not know the Days might have concluded at first meeting them that they were polar opposites. She’d heard them described as fire and ice. Their appearances certainly suggested it. Jasmine was Asian, muscular, richly tanned, and had an intensity about her that made everyone in her presence fear she might explode at any moment. Marcus was none of those things. He was Caucasian, frighteningly thin, and white all over, skin, hair, even his eyes were such a light gray they looked bleached. Where Jasmine radiated energy, he seemed to absorb it. No matter the circumstance, when Marcus Day entered a room, his ghostly presence seemed to draw all the life out of it. But once you got past the stark, external contrasts, you discovered Jasmine and Marcus were the same. Driven, brilliant, conquest-oriented, and intolerant of anything short of perfection. People who marveled at the details of Xperion’s simulations only did so because they did not know the Days.

“There you are,” Marcus said in his soft, controlled voice. He pointed to one of three empty chairs. “Please, sit and tell us about our guests. Did they enjoy the tour of our little world?”

She lowered herself into the chair, taking care to smooth any wrinkles that had formed on her slacks and blouse. Wrinkles would attract Marcus’s attention. She’d seen him stare at uninitiated subordinates until, by the sheer weight of his discomfort, they’d realized their infraction and removed the intolerable imperfections.

“Yes, I believe they were impressed.” She chanced a smile. “Two more customers.”

Maxwell and Anand laughed, but not the Days.

“Good. And what did they have to say?”

Angela took a breath and responded in the staccato, bulleted style she knew Marcus preferred. No narrative beyond what was necessary to provide context. Facts and analysis without opinion. “The agents suspect a serial killer is targeting our customers. Two have been killed so far.”

Marcus waved his hand. “We already know this.”

She hastily continued. “Both customers had been killed with a sword.” Angela paused, waiting for a response. Marcus gestured for her to continue. “The agents believe the killer met his victims in LMM, and they want the identities of all the players the victims’ characters had come into contact with.”

“That’s absurd,” Jasmine barked.

“What do you think, Anand?” Marcus asked the lawyer.

Anand shrugged. “We could insist on a subpoena. They’ll get one. I did some research on them. Agent Breaux is a kid, but Parker Reid has some serious clout. If he feels he’s onto something, he’ll get what he needs to pursue it.”

“PR risks on both sides of this,” Maxwell said.

Marcus peered at him. “Explain.”

“If we don’t cooperate, we’re putting customers at risk. That will get out, and if there’s anything the media likes better than serial killers, it’s serial killers protected by Big Tech.”

Marcus nodded. “And, if we cooperate?”

“We risk violating the privacy agreements we have with our customers guaranteeing their real identities will never be disclosed.”

“Our terms and conditions clearly stipulate those guarantees do not extend to lawful government inquiries,” Anand said.

“We’ll still get roasted on social media. Some of our simulations cater to demos that believe the security state is out to get them.”

“That’s because they are,” Anand said.

Marcus gave the lawyer a cool stare, and the banter ceased.

“It’s only two players,” Angela offered.

“Not so fast, Angela,” Jasmine said. “Have you looked at the names?”

Angela had come prepared with the names. Entering the room without them would be unthinkable. She glanced down at her tablet. “Jyothi Reddy and Charles Tate.”

Jasmine gave her the high dimpled predatory smile, making Angela wonder what she’d overlooked. “What about their LMM IDs?”

Shit. How did she forget to get their LMM IDs? “No. I don’t have those.”

“I do,” Jasmine said. “Jyothi Reddy’s unique ID was REDDYELF@4242 and Charles Tate’s ID was OLDDOG $$52.”

The IDs rang a bell in Angela’s head, but she was not sure why. Jasmine clearly expected her to recognize them. “I’m sorry, Jazz. I don’t follow.”

Jasmine looked at Marcus. “I think you should leave now. Angela and I have been working with the special external entity you prefer to know nothing about.”

Angela’s heartbeat monitor moved into the red zone again, and her head swam. Those IDs had something to do with the Anomaly. Now she recognized them. They were the two characters the consultant had used for bait before Darshana. REDDYELF@4242 was the character Danaka, and OLDDOG$$52 had been Pharoah. They’d been killed in the game and murdered in the real world. This was no longer about quietly catching a hacker.

Marcus speared Jasmine with a freezing stare. “I thought we agreed to stop those methods.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “I do what I must.”

“Take unnecessary risks,” he shot back. The tension between them filled the room with the same charged feeling that precedes a thunderstorm. Talk of the Day’s marital difficulties would fly like birds ahead of the storm.

“Stay if you must,” she spat. The air seemed to crackle as if lightning had arced between them. “But if you do, you won’t be able to claim ignorance of my methods, as you have in the past.”

Marcus shifted his arctic stare to Anand.

The lawyer nodded. “It’s best to compartmentalize these kinds of things.”

“Fine. I will leave our FBI guests to you,” Marcus said to Jasmine. “Try not to get us arrested,” he added as he floated out the door.

After he’d gone, Jasmine turned back to Angela. “Do I need to spell out the connection to you?”

“No, ma’am. I recognize the players now.” She was still processing the meaning. The hacker was the murderer.

“Good girl,” Jasmine said as if she were praising a pet that completed a trick. “Needless to say, we must be careful not to give the FBI anything that could lead them to the consultant.”

They had used the consultant often over the years. All the engagements had been off the books. Some of them involved questionable, more than questionable—illegal—activities. If the FBI connected the consultant to Xperion, the stock price would be the least of their concerns.

Angela took two deep breaths to tamp down her growing panic. She had been the only Xperion employee to work directly with the consultant. She was as guilty of the things he’d done for them as he was. But people were dying, and she’d unknowingly made them targets.

“Jazz, this hacker is killing people. We need to do whatever we can to help stop him.”

Jasmine’s stare bored through her. “I understand the situation, Angela. Do you?”

The agitated cofounder continued without giving her a chance to reply. “I don’t know what other players these two may have interacted with, but I do know one for sure.”

“The consultant.”

“Correct. What good would it do to have the FBI focus on him?”

Angela sighed. “None.”

“We need to learn how the hacker is doing what he is doing and put a stop to it. Then we can tell the agents what we know. Has your team shut down the hack—Angela?”

In her nervousness, Angela lost control and blurted, “You know we haven’t.”

Jasmine smirked. “Then, what would we tell the FBI?” Again, she continued before Angela could answer. “Nothing. We have nothing to tell them. They will just ask questions we cannot answer. When your team determines how the hacker is getting through our security and we plug that hole, then we will go to them. Perhaps we’ll be able to tell them who, or at least where, he is. Until then, we remain focused on shutting this hacker down. Do you understand, Angela?”

Her palms were sweating. She was moments away from a full-blown panic attack. She took another deep breath, let it out, and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Jasmine turned to Maxwell. “How far back do our detailed logs go?”

“We keep a year in the archives.”

“What about online?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“One week,” Maxwell said.

“That’s unfortunate. I believe both those players have been off-SIM for longer than that.”

“Angela, would you please fetch our guests?”