Serafina and the Virtual Man - By Marie Treanor Page 0,14
at a page from a newspaper.
She frowned. She’d never called that up. It was from a local newspaper archive, one of the inner pages of an issue from August last year. She was about to close it down with annoyance when a name leapt out at her. In fact, it was highlighted in red. Dale Ewan.
She blinked, then read. It was a brief report about a break-in at the home of Genesis Gaming’s owner. The thieves had apparently been disturbed by the alarm system and fled with nothing.
August. Round about the time the poltergeist made its first appearance. Why had the Ewans never mentioned that? Surely a break-in, even a foiled one, was a fairly major event for anyone?
Frowning, she went back to the search engine to find more. She never got the chance to type. The search page was replaced with a different newspaper page. This time a minor headline was highlighted in red.
“Two arrested in connection with Ewan burglary.”
This was bizarre. How was this stuff coming up, and how was it highlighting exactly the bits she was interested in?
Releasing the mouse as if afraid it was reading her mind, she sat back on her heels and read the paragraph.
“Two men known to Edinburgh police have been arrested in connection with the recent burglary at the luxury home of millionaire Dale Ewan. Ewan, thirty-two, is the co-owner of thriving computer game company, Genesis Gaming. The two arrested have been named as Andrew Kerr, 30, and George Kerr, 27, both from Edinburgh.”
Jilly clutched at her hair. Oh no. Her own brothers had broken into the Ewans’ house? Why hadn’t she known this?
Because she avoided knowing anything about them at all if she could.
Without warning, the article disappeared. Another page replaced it with an even smaller highlighted paragraph.
“The two men arrested on Friday for the break-in at the luxury home of computer-game giant Dale Ewan have been released without charge.”
Jilly tugged at her hair in frustration. What did that mean? That they didn’t do it? That the police had no real evidence against them? That some lawyer got them off on a technicality? Whatever that meant.
Shite. I’m going to have to go home.
Almost blindly, she went through the motions of finding and sending the code-breaking file, then removed the memory stick from her computer. Something on it must have been calling up the newspaper articles, something she’d inadvertently downloaded from Ewan’s computer.
Staring at the screen, she shovelled risotto into her mouth without tasting it. If Ewan had cared enough about the burglary to keep newspaper articles relating to it, why hadn’t he mentioned it to her and Sera?
One of her favourite chat programs flashed. Apparently, Exodus wanted to chat.
Who was Exodus again? Whatever, she needed something else to think about. Maybe everything would make sense if she stopped worrying at it. She clicked Allow.
Exodus: Thanks.
JK: For what?
Exodus: Talking. Did you read the articles?
Jilly laid down her fork. For a moment, she stared at the screen, then swallowed the food still in her mouth and typed rapidly, using both hands, setting off the best virus scan software she knew. Only then did she answer Exodus cagily.
JK: What articles?
Exodus: On the burglary at Dale’s house.
JK: YOU sent me the articles?
Exodus: Yes.
JK: How?
Exodus: You mean why.
JK: No, I mean how.
Keep him chatting. The scan will find him, and then he’s mince.
Exodus: The usual way.
JK: Bollocks. How’d you get access to my computer?
Exodus: You gave me it.
JK: No, I fucking didn’t.
The scan results began to flash up at the corner of her screen. They included one huge new data file that she certainly hadn’t put there. Although not identified as harmful, it was numbered, like the files she’d stolen from Ewan. They seemed to have moved from the memory stick without permission. It was spooky, like Hal taking over the ship in 2001.
Exodus: I won’t harm your computer.
JK: Damn right. What do you want?
Exodus: Something’s wrong. You woke me up.
JK: Hey. YOU contacted ME.
Exodus: I mean earlier. You’re the girl with the soft skin.
Chapter Four
The beautiful girl on his monitor dragged her hand through her rumpled hair, tugging it as she stared at her own computer screen. She looked different but no less gorgeous without all the makeup, her hair damp and clinging as if from a recent shower. But she was definitely the same girl he’d met this morning. Just… softer. And she was some technical whiz too, judging by all the stuff on her tiny laptop.