A Serious Talk (plus a photo!)
First off, a picture of Rom and Zach together, because they rock hard and Zach finally has a real wig and glasses. Followed by some writing, because I still write! I promise! Not always, but it does happen :)
The boys are awesome because they get to show off their new HDS goodies. What brand whores. Everything that's not HDS is Volks (shoes excluded). Also, for those interested, there are some not-particularly-condoll photos of Zach (and his girlfriend, Lu) on Condoll that give a little insight to him.
"You look like shit, man."
The candid observation from one side of the table drew a fresh and frustrated scowl from the other. Zach knew he was starting to look as worn out as he felt, but being told so wasn't exactly helpful. He frowned into his weak coffee, half the cup cream, and considered just retreating to his new apartment. Maybe meeting Danny for coffee wasn't as good an idea as it had seemed the day before.
"You would too, if you hadn't slept for real in a week."
Rom tipped back his own mug and drained the bitter sludge at the bottom, then set down his cup to look across the table at his friend. The look in his clear grey eyes was one of frank and genuine concern. Zach could, after all, be a little paranoid sometimes. He didn't want to see the one kid who'd stuck by him through all his shit making himself sick because he'd gotten it into his head that sleeping was a dangerous thing to do.
"You should try that sleeping thing again--I hear tell it's healthier to get some rest, sometimes. Could just be those damn scientists faking us out, of course, but you never know until you try it." Rom teased.
"I can't afford to. I'm seriously worried here, Danny. I've starting taking all my notes by hand just in case. I think they can get into my computer, even if I don't have a goddamn clue how they're doing it. Who's to say they can't get into my head, like they did with Lu? I have to stay awake so I can't forget things."
"Okay, seriously, dude, you can't have been awake for a week. They say you go crazy if you stay awake that long. Your brain, like, starts eating itself or something."
"I do sleep--just no REM, no deep sleep. I wake myself up every thirty minutes."
"That's nuts. You can't do that."
Rom scowled into his empty mug again. This was crazy. Zach had called and told him about what was going on when it started, and yeah, it was weird, but it seemed it had been much more upsetting to the boy than he realized at first. Something was wrong with the records related to Zach's girlfriend, Lucas; they hadn't existed a few weeks ago, and now suddenly everything has been filled in. Badly.
The technology was right. Every altered record looked like it had always been that way, but the fill-ins were still sloppy. They were just too obvious. They screamed to be seen. And yet somehow Zach was the only one who could tell they were wrong. Even other hackers shrugged and said it was all datestamped and laid out properly. Nothing to see there. But Zach had seen the records before they were changed, even had a set of screencaps taken by his own homegrown program--Medusa 4.7--and he knew everything was wrong with the whole situation.
The worst of it, though, was that someone almost seemed to have hacked Lu herself. She had been there the night Zach saw the missing gaps where she should have been, but by morning she'd forgotten about the problem completely. She had gone from frightened and upset and anxious to completely calm and happy in one 8-hour sleep cycle, and that was the scariest part for Zach. Other hackers, he could deal with. He was confident in his abilities, in his programs, in his networking and his computers. But someone who could change what a person knew, what they remembered? That was a terrifying prospect.
"I just don't know what to do at this point. I mean, I truly and deeply hate to admit it, but whatever's going on here is way the hell out of my league."
Zach looked uncomfortably close to the tears he refused to shed in front of anyone. Rom looked almost as concerned as Zach by the end of the story. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the problem might be. Someone who could out-hack Zach? And yet leave obvious traces of their work, without getting caught? In his mind, anyone who could do that had to be some sort of highly ignorant god.
"I should probably go." Zach muttered after an uncomfortable stretch of silence. "I need to finish setting up my network so I can really tackle this--the new apartment is wired up right, I just need to install my filters and switchboard." He had a new place in Cambridge, in preparation for starting his first year at MIT, and so did Lu. They had talked (awkwardly) about getting an apartment together, though they had only been dating what Zach considered a short six months. In the end, Zach's almost neurotic need for his own space had ended the discussion, and they agreed to get separate apartments and maybe look into moving in together when their leases were up.
Rom reached across the table and caught Zach's chin as he tried to look down and avoid his eyes. He understood things better by touching, and though Zach was not at all a physical person he had come to terms with the habit. His calloused fingers were rough against the soft, pale skin of his friend's face. "Listen." he insisted. "You take care of yourself. I know this is totally fucking things up for you, but you have to sleep, eat, breathe, and keep your head. Hell, do it for Lu's sake if not your own. Or for mine. Just quit abusing your own ability to function. Got that? Calm down. Take a deep breath. Give yourself some room. I'm worried about you, and I guarantee she is too."
Zach shivered slightly. He'd gotten over it but long ago he had quite the crush on his charismatic friend, and for someone who so rarely allowed others to touch him the moment had a terse charge of residual importance. He couldn't help but nod. "Alright, fine. But I'm gonna be taking notes like I think I've been retconned."
The comic book fanboy hidden between Rom's ears couldn't help but laugh at that one. "You do that, if it makes you happy. Just promise me you'll sleep."
"Will do." Zach started to stand once his friend retracted his hand back across the table, but suddenly Rom's face lit up and he sat back down to hear what he'd thought to say.
"Holy shit, I'm a moron--why didn't I think of that?! I know just the guy who can help you!"
Zach frowned. Really? Someone who could explain this bizarre situation to his satisfaction? That seemed impossible to him.
"Seriously, you gotta talk to him--and you can't help but love this kid, he's an absolute saint. Not to mention some kind of fucked up expert in... whatchacallit.... Paranormal, I guess? Supernatural sounds too out there. Weird shit, anyways."
"I'm not going to consult some wacky psychic, no matter how sweet a person he may be."
"He's not a psychic. He's a fuckin' genius. Like, if I had to tell someone in an interview who the smartest person I know is, I would be genuinely torn about whether to say it was you or him. He's great, and it may be weird shit, but I think he can give answers that will satisfy even your scrutiny."
"Alright, so who is this whiz kid?"
"That guy I was living with when I first emancipated myself--Al. Al Healy. He's going to Harvard, right here in town, and he can totally help you."
The boys are awesome because they get to show off their new HDS goodies. What brand whores. Everything that's not HDS is Volks (shoes excluded). Also, for those interested, there are some not-particularly-condoll photos of Zach (and his girlfriend, Lu) on Condoll that give a little insight to him.
"You look like shit, man."
The candid observation from one side of the table drew a fresh and frustrated scowl from the other. Zach knew he was starting to look as worn out as he felt, but being told so wasn't exactly helpful. He frowned into his weak coffee, half the cup cream, and considered just retreating to his new apartment. Maybe meeting Danny for coffee wasn't as good an idea as it had seemed the day before.
"You would too, if you hadn't slept for real in a week."
Rom tipped back his own mug and drained the bitter sludge at the bottom, then set down his cup to look across the table at his friend. The look in his clear grey eyes was one of frank and genuine concern. Zach could, after all, be a little paranoid sometimes. He didn't want to see the one kid who'd stuck by him through all his shit making himself sick because he'd gotten it into his head that sleeping was a dangerous thing to do.
"You should try that sleeping thing again--I hear tell it's healthier to get some rest, sometimes. Could just be those damn scientists faking us out, of course, but you never know until you try it." Rom teased.
"I can't afford to. I'm seriously worried here, Danny. I've starting taking all my notes by hand just in case. I think they can get into my computer, even if I don't have a goddamn clue how they're doing it. Who's to say they can't get into my head, like they did with Lu? I have to stay awake so I can't forget things."
"Okay, seriously, dude, you can't have been awake for a week. They say you go crazy if you stay awake that long. Your brain, like, starts eating itself or something."
"I do sleep--just no REM, no deep sleep. I wake myself up every thirty minutes."
"That's nuts. You can't do that."
Rom scowled into his empty mug again. This was crazy. Zach had called and told him about what was going on when it started, and yeah, it was weird, but it seemed it had been much more upsetting to the boy than he realized at first. Something was wrong with the records related to Zach's girlfriend, Lucas; they hadn't existed a few weeks ago, and now suddenly everything has been filled in. Badly.
The technology was right. Every altered record looked like it had always been that way, but the fill-ins were still sloppy. They were just too obvious. They screamed to be seen. And yet somehow Zach was the only one who could tell they were wrong. Even other hackers shrugged and said it was all datestamped and laid out properly. Nothing to see there. But Zach had seen the records before they were changed, even had a set of screencaps taken by his own homegrown program--Medusa 4.7--and he knew everything was wrong with the whole situation.
The worst of it, though, was that someone almost seemed to have hacked Lu herself. She had been there the night Zach saw the missing gaps where she should have been, but by morning she'd forgotten about the problem completely. She had gone from frightened and upset and anxious to completely calm and happy in one 8-hour sleep cycle, and that was the scariest part for Zach. Other hackers, he could deal with. He was confident in his abilities, in his programs, in his networking and his computers. But someone who could change what a person knew, what they remembered? That was a terrifying prospect.
"I just don't know what to do at this point. I mean, I truly and deeply hate to admit it, but whatever's going on here is way the hell out of my league."
Zach looked uncomfortably close to the tears he refused to shed in front of anyone. Rom looked almost as concerned as Zach by the end of the story. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the problem might be. Someone who could out-hack Zach? And yet leave obvious traces of their work, without getting caught? In his mind, anyone who could do that had to be some sort of highly ignorant god.
"I should probably go." Zach muttered after an uncomfortable stretch of silence. "I need to finish setting up my network so I can really tackle this--the new apartment is wired up right, I just need to install my filters and switchboard." He had a new place in Cambridge, in preparation for starting his first year at MIT, and so did Lu. They had talked (awkwardly) about getting an apartment together, though they had only been dating what Zach considered a short six months. In the end, Zach's almost neurotic need for his own space had ended the discussion, and they agreed to get separate apartments and maybe look into moving in together when their leases were up.
Rom reached across the table and caught Zach's chin as he tried to look down and avoid his eyes. He understood things better by touching, and though Zach was not at all a physical person he had come to terms with the habit. His calloused fingers were rough against the soft, pale skin of his friend's face. "Listen." he insisted. "You take care of yourself. I know this is totally fucking things up for you, but you have to sleep, eat, breathe, and keep your head. Hell, do it for Lu's sake if not your own. Or for mine. Just quit abusing your own ability to function. Got that? Calm down. Take a deep breath. Give yourself some room. I'm worried about you, and I guarantee she is too."
Zach shivered slightly. He'd gotten over it but long ago he had quite the crush on his charismatic friend, and for someone who so rarely allowed others to touch him the moment had a terse charge of residual importance. He couldn't help but nod. "Alright, fine. But I'm gonna be taking notes like I think I've been retconned."
The comic book fanboy hidden between Rom's ears couldn't help but laugh at that one. "You do that, if it makes you happy. Just promise me you'll sleep."
"Will do." Zach started to stand once his friend retracted his hand back across the table, but suddenly Rom's face lit up and he sat back down to hear what he'd thought to say.
"Holy shit, I'm a moron--why didn't I think of that?! I know just the guy who can help you!"
Zach frowned. Really? Someone who could explain this bizarre situation to his satisfaction? That seemed impossible to him.
"Seriously, you gotta talk to him--and you can't help but love this kid, he's an absolute saint. Not to mention some kind of fucked up expert in... whatchacallit.... Paranormal, I guess? Supernatural sounds too out there. Weird shit, anyways."
"I'm not going to consult some wacky psychic, no matter how sweet a person he may be."
"He's not a psychic. He's a fuckin' genius. Like, if I had to tell someone in an interview who the smartest person I know is, I would be genuinely torn about whether to say it was you or him. He's great, and it may be weird shit, but I think he can give answers that will satisfy even your scrutiny."
"Alright, so who is this whiz kid?"
"That guy I was living with when I first emancipated myself--Al. Al Healy. He's going to Harvard, right here in town, and he can totally help you."