I have to stop this hacker from stopping me.
My pulse pounds as I rip the USB backups out of my computer to keep them safe. Tension eases from my shoulders. If they’re not connected, the hacker can’t delete all the files on them. But that won’t stop them from gaining access to the rest of my computer. Despite my firewalls, a VPN, and other security measures I recently fortified, they clearly found another entry point.
I straighten and forcibly tug my mouse to the corner so hard I elbow Sebastian in the ribs in the process. But the mouse follows my commands before flying to the opposite end of my screen. If I work fast, I can control the mouse in small spurts.
Sebastian leans over, a wrinkle bridging his eyebrows. “What’s going on?”
“Someone’s onto us. They’re hacking me right now.” But two can play at that game. I set up an XSS channel using an AJAX application to establish a two-way connection between my computer and theirs. When their IP address shows up in the choices, I squint for a moment, confused. It looks familiar, but probably because it’s coming from inside the school. “Quick, write this number down!”
Sebastian hastily scrawls 555.167.111.215 on the inside of his palm.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins. With the connection established, I can issue commands onto their computer using the XSS Tunnel. I immediately turn on my microphone and blast the volume on their computer. “No, you stay away!”
“Yeah!” Sebastian adds like an echo.
I fist-pump the air at finally outsmarting them, if only for a second. I need to hit them with a second attack while they’re still distracted by the first. Using the XXS Tunnel, I write a quick command to autoplay the Rick Astley video for “Never Gonna Give You Up.” The video fills their entire screen, blasting the classic line of song. I construct the loop so another version of the video pops open right after Rick finishes singing the first line, creating a chorus of round robin melodies the way kids used to sing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”
Sebastian chuckles. “Really? You Rick Rolled them?”
I shrug. “I had to think fast.”
It won’t keep them at bay for long, but hopefully it’s enough for me to—
Every folder and file stored on my hard drive starts opening at the same time, cascading in diagonal rows across the screen. They obscure my HiveMind app, making it impossible to get to, and if I can’t access that, I can’t retrieve any more memories. Cold panic makes my spine straighten. Shit shit shit.
I push a tangled strand of sweaty hair behind my ear and take a deep breath. I have to act fast. Using the toolbar, I open my command prompt and quickly click on it before it becomes obscured by all the windows opening on top of it. I’m not sure I was fast enough since I can’t see what I’m typing with the hundreds of windows opening to cover my screen, so I enter the instructions slowly, mouthing each one to ensure I don’t mess up. The instructions will close all programs at once. My pulse pounds and I brace myself. When I hit enter, the windows disappear faster than they started.
Before I have a chance to launch another attack, the hacker rotates my screen, rendering all applications and text upside down. Hot rage boils through me. When I try to readjust it, an error message pops up. I jump at the little ding and curse under my breath. It takes a little bit of back-end coding done upside down and backward to eliminate the error messages and return my screen to the correct view. Thankfully, I’ve gotten used to things going backward lately.
“I’m done being nice. Time to bring out the big guns.” I seize control of their mouse and easily navigate to their command prompt now that they reset the screen display settings on their own monitor. In the command prompt, I type echo shutdown-s > “Owned.bat” and copy the Owned.bat file I once created for programming class onto their computer. Immediately, their computer shuts down. It’ll create a loop, continually shutting down as soon as it restarts. I have no doubt they’ll find a way to stop it within minutes. I need to block their access to my computer before that happens. Clearly this asshole found another entry point into my system, probably via a zero-day exploit.
But that also means I have an entry point direct to them. Every time their computer restarts, the two-way connection reestablishes.
If I allow the connection to stay open, I might be able to write a script that will root out their location down to a precise device. If I type fast, I can whip this up in six minutes, maybe five, and execute it in less than a second the next time their computer connects.
My heart thumps fast. The hacker probably only needs five minutes to prevent the continual restarts of their computer.
A vibration in both our phones makes me jump, and Sebastian and I both scramble to read the alert. My head’s still pounding from hack battle, so I need to read the email my mother sent twice to truly understand the severity.
Dear Varga Staff and Students,
Due to an incident under investigation, we insist that you vacate the premises immediately. All meetings and after-school activities are canceled for the rest of the day. We have the utmost concern for the safety of our staff and students. If anyone has any information about the events that transpired in the basement of the building, please call me directly. Otherwise, we look forward to seeing you again tomorrow and beginning the adversarial review of student projects on Friday. Please use the button below to check in so we can mark you as safe.
My eyes flash on the words under investigation. The smoke should clear any minute now, and people will be roaming the basement, taking notes, looking at everything left behind closely. My SSD drive won’t stay hidden much longer and this might be my last chance to retrieve another memory before the servers move to who knows where.
I bite my lip and look at Sebastian. “I can either try to retrieve another memory before we’re shut out forever or I can use the next few minutes to try to find the hacker’s location. I have enough time for the first option, the second is a gamble.” Even as I say the words, I know there’s really only one option.
His eyes spark in the sunlight. “The first, then. It’s the only guarantee.”
I nod as a horrible weight forms in my stomach. My pulse pounds so fast it feels like the car is spinning out of control.
While I still have access to the admin controls of HiveMind, I choose a file at random from the Favorites list and decrypt it. I copy the file into both of our HiveMind accounts. I hope it’s a good one.
Before the memory starts, I quickly turn off Wi-Fi and Bluetooth to prevent the hacker from breaking into my shit again. I need time to write a MySQL script that will strengthen my firewall by blocking static packet filters originating from the IP address Sebastian wrote down. It’ll take me a good half hour to write this, but as long as my computer stays off-line, it’s safe from subsequent attacks until I can install the security updates.
Just in case, I lift my shirt and write out an instruction to myself on my stomach:
Hacker found an entry point into your computer. Need to strengthen security firewall via a MySQL script.
Blackness wipes out my vision as I write the last letter, but unlike the previous memories, no new scene glitches in. Never-ending darkness remains while sounds and sensations return. A breath. Something wet in my mouth. The wetness subsides and a voice asks, [Should I get—?] It takes me a moment to connect the clues to the source: Bash’s tongue swirls against mine. He tastes like almonds. My eyes remain closed, which accounts for the expanse of black. His body presses against mine, and my arms wrap around his torso to pull him closer, closer, closer.
Warm tingles sweep through my chest as the kiss slows down, going from hot and heavy to sweet and featherlight. I cup the back of his neck and yank him away from my lips. My arms slide downward, my fingers drawing tenuous symbols in the folds of his shirt. [I’d rather skip to what happens after dinner anyway,] I say, backward like all the other memories.
We break out of our embrace but stay close, him hovering over me. Electronics hum in a constant drone, but a faint folksy rock song croons from the tinny speaker of an iPhone nearby. Black lab tables and computer monitors surround us along with a few pieces of complicated electronic equipment on rolling carts. Pinprick stars outside indicate we’re at school way past the final bell.
[I was supposed to take you to dinner tonight,] he says, his voice dulcet. He picks up my hand, grinning at me. Bash traces his lips along the bare skin of my forearm, making every nerve ending in my body buzz. When he reaches my wrist, he drags down my sleeves and brings my hand to his mouth, dropping a delicate kiss on each of my knuckles. My scar’s there, as angry as ever. He drops my arm and backs up a few steps, the animalistic look in his eyes dulling to one of stress.
[I won’t like it, but you’ll always have my forgiveness and support.] The words seem to be hard for me to say, evidenced by how slowly I force them out.
Scabs mar his arm from all his injections. [Okay. I’ll get the process started. But … If I choose not to go through with it, would you forgive me?]
[No. You can’t give up like this. Just please, do the scan. Get everything ready for the cell transfer procedure while we figure out how to get our damn project working. This way, you’ll have more time to think about it. You’ll have a choice.]
Tears glisten in his eyes. [I’m scared. Scared I won’t be the same after. Scared I won’t be me.] He sucks in a deep breath, chest puffing out. [What if … What if I don’t want to go through with it?]
[No more classes. No more wasting time,] I say. [We’ll try harder.]
[The doctors, my mom, they all want me on bed rest. Deathbed rest.] He swallows loud enough for me to hear the gulp despite the whirs of computer fans. [My white blood cell numbers are diminishing and these meds aren’t going to keep my kidneys functioning for much longer. I thought I had three months left, but it’s looking more like weeks.] His cheekbones jut from his gaunt face, and his entire body sags in a hunched-over, defeated way. [We can’t stop. Not now. My latest lab tests—]
[Let’s stop here. We need to think this over.]
Purple crescent moons hang below his bloodshot eyes. [It has to work. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose me.]
[You really think that will work?] I straighten on my stool.
He snaps his fingers. [That’s it. That’s what we’re missing.] He backs away from me, fist-pumping the air. [Then reverse it during the transfer so it comes in the order of most vivid to least!]
[Right, and we need to quantize the time code in which the memories were formed. Turn them into a variable we can alter.]
[Memories can be quantized and converted into ones and zeroes, then accessed.] He lies down on a recliner chair. [To transfer an entire personality, theoretically, you would have to transfer all memories at once.] He sticks several wires connected to discs onto his forehead, his heart, and his arms, like an EEG machine in a science fiction novel. [Time moves in a chronological direction, but our brains think in nonlinear patterns. Our most recent memories are clearest.]
[Let’s go over everything we’ve done so far to see if it sparks anything. You start. Stream-of-consciousness-style. Go!] I grab my laptop from a nearby counter and balance it on my thighs. [Bash, don’t get upset. You still have three months.]
He sighs, shaking his head. [As far as I can tell, the data classification and signal processing are working fine, but it’s still wrong! We can still only transfer one memory at a time!]
On my laptop, I move a single encrypted file to another folder. The interface looks similar to the encrypted area of HiveMind I’ve been hacking into even though it’s just crude Linux commands. The date in the upper right-hand corner of the screen announces this moment took place back in February, on Valentine’s Day. I’m wearing a red sweater to commemorate the occasion. [I closed the infinite loop. Let me try a transfer.] I navigate back to the mainframe. [How about now?] I stare at object-oriented code and change a few details—adding another If, Else clause and another algorithm to the iteration.
Bash’s glasses fog up from sweat and he loosens the red tie he wears over his T-shirt. [Didn’t work.]
The memory ends. Reality fades in and Sebastian and I look at each other. I blink against the bright sun streaming through the car windshield, my eyes still adjusted to the memory of the darkening sky. Air-conditioning blasts cold against a spot on my neck.
Piecing it together in the right order, I adjusted code on the computer and attempted something that failed. Bash got upset because he was running out of time, only three months left. That’s when I suggested we hash things out stream-of-consciousness-style. He started rattling off the fact that more recent memories are clearest while I supplied the knowledge that we’re trying to turn the time codes into a variable we can alter. Somehow that gave Bash the epiphany that we need to reverse the memories during transfer in order to get our project working. But Bash worried we wouldn’t get it fully working in time and was second-guessing his decision to go through with Leo’s procedure. I encouraged him to just get the process started. Then we made out.
Holy shit. Our project had to do with reversing memories. That must be why these are playing backward when I retrieve them.
“So our project clearly involves reversing memories in an attempt to transfer an entire personality,” I say, “but I still don’t understand what it’s supposed to do. I mean, HiveMind already exists and it can transfer memories.”
Unless … that’s the entire point of our project. My dad only figured out a way to store memories and users were only able to access their own accounts. I must have found a way around that by developing a new method for transferring not just a single memory at a time but a complete personality, more vivid and robust than the normal way of rewatching something in HiveMind.
“That’s the part you focused on?” His eyes zoom to my lips. “Because I’m stuck on the first part of that memory.”
“Oh. Yes. That.” My cheeks combust with heat. His body on top of mine. Wrapped around each other. Him asking, “Should I get—?” Get what, a condom? It certainly seems like we might have gone farther than casual surface-level grazing.
“About that.” Sebastian leans across the car, eyes meeting mine with a questioning gaze. He presses his lips against mine, hard at first, like he’s competing against his former self in an aggressive race. After a moment the kiss softens to a sweet flutter. His soft lips tease me with a gentle kiss, brushing against my mouth in a timid way, like he doesn’t know how and he’s finding his way. The stubble on his chin scratches my cheek in a way that’s so purely real. Because I am here, in this moment and able to act, not a prisoner in the past. To prove it, I tease his soft lips open and deepen the kiss.
This is all I have now. Here, now, Sebastian. With the servers moving, I can’t retrieve another memory. It’s too risky to try to log on right now, before I’ve had a chance to strengthen the firewalls and keep the hacker away from my personal computer.
The two of us are on our own now.
The kiss breaks and I pull his head to my shoulder. He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “These memories are getting harder and harder to process. I don’t like seeing myself like that, so frail, so broken. I’m starting to worry we’re going to retrieve something we were better off not remembering.” His arms cradle me, and we sit there for a moment, both of us tethered to the only thing we can trust now, two people who have offered only the absolute truth to each other, as we know it anyway. “I’m starting to think maybe I don’t want my memories back.”
“Maybe we can choose.” I pull back and he glances up at me. “We’re learning more and more each day. Maybe we’ll find a way to decrypt the memories first, before transferring, and you can decide what to keep.” I swallow hard. “And what to get rid of forever.”
He jerks out of my arms, squinting at me. “Why would I do that?” He backs away so fast his shoulders hit the car door. “I lost all my memories, Arden. Why would I choose not to relive some?”
I reel back, pulse quickening. “Sebastian.” My voice is a whisper. “What do you remember about the last few minutes?”
He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead. “Leo’s office.” He volleys his head from side to side. “Wait. How did we get in the car? What happened after we left Leo’s?”
I don’t need HiveMind to confirm the worst: He doesn’t remember the chemistry lab, the retrieved memory, the hacker going track pad to track pad with me, our kiss.
The sun shines through the car windows, but my mind is full of dark gray clouds. So far we’ve lost the same memories. It’s only a matter of time before this moment gets deleted for me too.
I have to risk it. I have to get back online even though I haven’t spruced up my computer’s security. I have to save the last twenty minutes before they’re gone forever.
My fingers tremble as I stare at the list of memories. I can only save them one at a time and I have to choose which is more important. The retrieved memory. The chemistry lab. The hack battle. The smoke-filled basement adventure. The kiss.
My tongue is thick and heavy in my mouth. How do I even choose? The teenage part of me wants to save the kiss, but the practical part of me knows that’s the lowest priority. With white knuckles, I drag the retrieved memory onto the backup. I need that one the most. While that copies, I roll up my shirt and start scrawling on my stomach as fast as I can to try to preserve everything else that just happened, but even as I’m writing, I know I’m already forgetting something. Memory. Chemistry lab. Hack battle.
What else happened?
My gut squeezes with an unsettling feeling like when you can’t remember why you opened the fridge but know you needed something. I’ll never know what I’ve already forgotten and I’m realizing now I won’t ever be fast enough to save it all.