Jessica bounced her knee nonstop as the information set in. Questions raced through her head. I never noticed anything in all my time with him. With my history of dementia, how could I not have seen any of the signs?
“Jessica,” Mikiko said, “I know that this is a lot to take in, but I need—”
Jessica cut her off. “Had Zach agreed to talk to you? He was very skeptical of,” Jessica cleared her throat, “law enforcement.”
“He had,” Mikiko said. “Zach reached out to me a couple of months ago. He didn’t say anything to you because he wanted to keep you out of it.”
“Out of what?” Jessica prodded.
“He confirmed that the Singularity Group was working in partnership with Confidence Biotech to create an incredibly advanced virus contact tracing technology. Zach was leading the initiative on the Singularity Group side. He had figured out a way to write the code to integrate the virus tracing features into the EEG screens. The contact tracer technology wouldn’t require doctors to test each individual anymore. The technology is capable of testing large groups of people at the same time and identifying who has a respiratory infection and what type of infection.”
“Did he explain how?” Jessica asked.
“No one knew, and Zach kept that very close to him,” Mikiko said. “We know that it was a new advancement evaluating the aerosolized particles exhaled by individuals. Zach and the Singularity Group began to have reservations once Confidence Biotech started hiring their fleet of contact tracers.”
Jessica raised her eyebrows. “Definitely worrying.”
“These Biotech tracers are tasked with identifying and quarantining potential contamination threats. Most, if not all, of the new hires have military or law enforcement backgrounds and little to no healthcare experience. We believe they were also spreading information to dampen faith in the government-funded contact tracers.”
Jessica didn’t respond. Her face must’ve said it all.
“Yeah, I know,” Mikiko said. “Confidence Biotech and their Biotech tracers started bringing test subjects from developing countries into the lab. Zach grew suspicious and reached out to me when he saw online chatter that some of the previously quarantined people went missing shortly after returning home. Zach cross-referenced the contact tracer trial results with the missing people’s data and came up with a theory. Zach noticed that the people disappearing all had one thing in common, they were all asymptomatic or had immunity to the virus.”
“ASIMs,” Jessica whispered.
“Exactly,” Mikiko said. “Scary prospect, but my team couldn’t pursue it.”
“Why?” Jessica asked.
“Mostly, a jurisdictional nightmare. The other thing was that Zach didn’t have enough proof that those people’s disappearances were tied to the contact tracer initiative. Still, because of the various countries and governments involved, I had to pass the case to colleagues in other departments. Do you mind?” Mikiko asked, pointing to a bottle of water.
“Not at all,” Jessica said.
Mikiko opened the bottle of water and took a sip. “Zach was understandably frustrated with the lack of progress in the case. Zach also told me that he found a way to get evidence. He was going down to Nogales, Mexico, to meet with a source to get proof, then he and I were going to connect during the CDC’s forum. This was a little after the Singularity Group pulled out of the partnership with Confidence Biotech.”
“So how is Confidence Biotech still announcing this new technology?”
“That’s part of what I’m trying to figure out. The Singularity Group, of course, worked to exit the partnership while protecting their part of the technology and IP. There shouldn’t be a way for Confidence Biotech to have rebuilt on its own. And now with Zach’s change in circumstances…”
“What do you need from me?” Jessica asked.
“I was hoping to gain some insight into Zach, his background, his state of mind,” Mikiko said.
“Okay, where did you want to start?”
“I’m sure you know about Zach’s past, right?” Mikiko asked.
Jessica, still not showing her hand, pretended to be ignorant. “What do you mean?”
Mikiko smirked. “The hacking.”
“He mentioned that he started young, doing some small system hacks.” She paused. “He bragged about how he had developed a pretty impressive network of social media bots.”
Mikiko stood up and went to her bag. She reached in and pulled out a thick folder. “Zach used to be a major force in the hacking world. He went by the alias Digital Snowflake.”
Because he was one of a kind. Jessica thought back to the first time she heard his alias and how hard she laughed. She fought back a smile when Mikiko said it.
“By the time he was a teenager, he pulled off the largest electronic currency heist ever recorded.”
“He gave the money back, though,” Jessica said.
“So you do know.”
“Bits and pieces.”
“They still tried him as an adult, and since he was a kid who was raised in the foster care system, he didn’t have any family rush to his rescue. That was probably a blessing in disguise. While serving time, Zach was accepted into the Singularity Group’s recidivism program. He proved to be brilliant in all things technology-based. He thrived in the Research and Development division once released. I had a team look into his latest activities, and I couldn’t find anything that seemed suspicious. Jessica, I think this guy is a good seed. I don’t know what’s happening to him, but my gut tells me that something is off.”
“What you’re saying lines up with what I know.”
“Well, the problem now is his current mental state. It’s impossible to get any information out of him. He’s confused and paranoid.”
“I’m still not sure how I can help,” Jessica said.
“Zach must be a key contact of yours inside the Singularity Group. With the details you had on their technology, you must have spent time with him. Outside of work, Zach was a bit of a lone wolf, so we don’t have a lot of people to help here. Did you ever notice anything off? Any lapse in memory?”
“No, nothing. He was always incredibly sharp.”
“It’s bizarre that a man in his thirties can one day be all there, then the next day has an advanced state of a mentally debilitating disease.”
“I can’t believe it. Zach was different, but he was not mentally ill. He had a real sense of clarity and did not forget a thing.”
Mikiko reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small black recording device. “I’ve gotten my hands on something; don’t ask me how.” She took a deep breath, placed the device on the table, and pressed play.