‘It was a mistake. I should have left it at home. I wanted to review Galo’s documents.’
‘At the office? Hiding it behind the screen? And your free time? I hope you can offer me a more convincing reason.’
Vera was practically telling the truth. She had underestimated the systems and they had worked against her. Clearly sticking to silence was the best thing to do at this time. Carda had no problem with his own silences. Vera took advantage of Carda’s pause to resume her deep breathing.
‘I have been asked for a report. I delivered it this morning.’
Her hands felt cold. She had been sitting for too long being analysed by a man who had always despised or resented her.
‘I don’t know what the report says but I’m glad. I prefer to explain it all to Father Zillo.’
‘Explain what? That you’re investigating the suicides of the operators? That you think they’re linked to Cf? That it’s the reason you play every day? To investigate what you haven’t been able to here because of the security networks. I know every step you have been taking. What I can’t understand is why you brought in your membrane if you knew it was not possible to connect it to the system.’
‘If you know everything, why are you interrogating me? Why isn’t Father Zillo here?’
Carda leant forward across the table. He rested both hands on the table with his arms stretched out. Carda’s face was inches from Vera’s as he held her gaze.
‘Because I want to help you.’
The unknown frankness in the tone of his voice made her catch her breath. Her cold hands received a surge of heat. From her hands to her face, Vera felt the rush of blood reddening her cheeks.
As Carda’s last statement resounded in Vera’s incredulous ears, the Vatican’s jet was taking off with a roar. Zillo inserted into the membrane the data card that Carda had given him in the bar. He used the armchair controls to communicate with the cockpit.
‘I’ll be busy for a few minutes. I don’t want to be disturbed. Lunch in twenty, please.’
‘Yes, Father.’
Zillo closed off communication and pressed Privacy. A few seconds after the cockpit door shut, Carda’s image appeared on screen.
‘The report is negative. The membrane Vera took into the building is her dead partner’s. She opened it in my presence. Although there are no records of intrusion in the prevention system, I put the device through the IPS. Negative. On the day of the breach she had two of her partner’s recordings open. She claimed personal reasons although she admits it was an error to have brought in the membrane. I used the SRDs. The interview revealed that she’s in a fragile emotional state. She admitted using her jacket to keep the device hidden from the cameras. I checked all the logs. She has not incurred any further breaches. I also spoke to the operators she questioned. She wanted details of the relatives of the dead operators. They assume it’s to share her loss. The operators interviewed had no relation with the deceased men. She has not spoken to them since. She has been seeing a personal care assistant. It’s all above board. That’s it. She’s clean. I’ll continue monitoring her closely but there’s nothing else. Have a good flight.’
Zillo sent a message to Martino. ‘Leave it with me. It’s all under control.’
Still seated at the conference table, Vera held a distant, reserved expression, as if she had caught it off Carda. Once again her mind was being split between absorbing every word and processing the surprise that was unfolding. If Carda was not the person she had thought he was, he was the complete opposite to that person. He was someone towards whom suddenly she could feel a deep empathy.
‘It’s the game. I think there’s something in Cf that disturbs or disorients. I’ve been analysing it since he asked me to investigate you. Obviously the suspicion against you is one of industrial espionage.’
Vera smiled at Carda for the first time.
‘What else is there to live for?’
‘Precisely. I have just presented Zillo with a report. It clears you. I’ve alluded to personal reasons. Nobody else knows of your offence. It’s up to me to close the file on the investigation and it’s now closed.’ Vera could not get a word in. Carda did not expect her to. ‘I don’t know how it happens. When competing against the machine, neurokinetic behaviour is altered. I checked the kinetic logs of the suicidal operators.’
Vera lowered her head as though Carda had punched her. Surprisingly, Carda acknowledged her reaction.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’
‘Carry on.’
‘I used the PECs and accessed the Cf logs. There’s a void of both kinetic and emotional information when players reach the final stages of level five.’
‘Yes. I noticed it too in Galo’s logs.’
‘It’s the same information gathered by the sensory response detectors for each terminal. Even though the logs show that the players suffer a kind of neurokinetic paralysis they continue playing in spite of it. That shouldn’t be possible but I’ve already checked and it’s not an error in the logs.’
‘Does it work like a hypnotic force?’
‘Maybe. I’m not sure what it is, specifically. Nor what provokes it. I searched more than ten games used by those operators. There is nothing similar in them. It only happens in Cf.’
‘I know. It doesn’t make sense. We have almost three hundred million users. There have been fewer than one hundred thousand suicides.’
‘Cf is relatively new. Not everyone reaches the top level. Remember that one of the attractions of this version is the difficulty in winning.’
‘Not everybody reaches catharsis?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘If it’s something in Cf, how and why?’
‘Let’s concentrate on how. There are areas I can’t access, just like you. The code for some sectors was written at headquarters. Those sectors came from the United States and were installed later.’
‘That I knew, and always wanted to ask you who installed them. Who wrote the code?’
‘I don’t know. As usual, the explanation I was given was “security”. Zillo had never before excluded me from a sector.’
‘Father Zillo?’
‘Who else?’
‘I don’t believe it. We must talk to him.’
‘Until we know what we’re dealing with and who’s involved, we can’t exclude anyone or involve anybody else in the investigation. I trust you’ll agree.’
Vera did not reply.
‘I can imagine what you must be thinking,’ added Carda, ‘I don’t blame you. I’ve not been a very friendly colleague.’ Vera was not sure whether Carda had deliberately used a euphemism or whether he did not see himself as harshly as she did.
‘I have to go briefly to my office.’ Vera needed some time alone, even if it was a few minutes.
‘We haven’t much time. Zillo will be back in a couple of days. He gave me his access card.’
Even if this was a mistake, Vera had to take the chance. Suddenly she was not only trusting Carda, she was also committing to sharing her intuitions and fears with him. Vera was turning Carda into an ally.
Sitting in his hotel room in Paris, Zillo’s face appeared on screen. On the membrane Carda’s face, looked different from the image Zillo was used to.
‘Looks like my absence has cheered you up. How’s Vera?’
Carda hardened his features.
‘She’s recovering. I suggest you don’t mention you’re in the know.’
‘Of course I won’t. I don’t want her to think I doubt her. Nor should she feel she’s under observation.’
‘That’s right. I’ll follow her behaviour closely. I’ve asked Martino to notify me immediately of any anomaly in the log.’
‘Good.’
Carda managed to finish his conversation with Zillo long before Vera came back from her office. She had gone there to deactivate the holographic message she had addressed to Benedita. She put it in her pocket as a precaution. It would take her seconds
to send it if events demanded it. Vera took a deep breath before going back into Zillo’s office to meet Carda.
‘I looked into it but it’s not possible to access those sectors. Not even Zillo can get into them. Once installed, biometric security is linked up in columns. If we enter, Security will come down on us immediately.’ Carda kept his eyes on the screen.
‘What do you suggest?’ Vera asked, already knowing what the next move would be.
‘That we analyse Zillo’s mail during the months Cf was being developed and any associated documents.’
Vera’s wariness was not just because she was invading her mentor’s privacy, she was feeling guilty because of her need to prove that Father Zillo was not involved in something unspeakable which she figured had led Galo and so many others to suicide.
‘If there’s anything to be found, it has to be here.’ Carda, on the other hand, expressed a steely conviction. ‘We need the passwords.’
‘I think I can break them in less than half an hour.’
‘I’d hoped as much. We mustn’t work outside office hours or the ABD will be triggered.’
Carda inserted Zillo’s card. He ushered Vera into his chair with what looked like a smile. The more friendly his recent behaviour, which Vera could not help comparing with the Carda she knew, the more she was assailed by doubt. According to the law of probabilities, for Vera such a change was inconceivable. She must carry on. She could not go back. If she refused to cooperate, she would make an enemy of Carda. If her doubts were unfounded, she would get to the truth with Carda’s help. If they were justified, she would have to think how she could defend herself against the consequences. Vera could not even speculate what these might be nor why Carda had decided to take this new path. At that moment she could not afford the luxury of reflecting on a possible way out.
Vera had deciphered the access passwords sooner than both expected. While Carda checked the hundreds of documents associated with Cf, she looked for any revealing information in Zillo’s mailbox. Unexpectedly she was making strides now that Carda was on her side. Vera was not sure whether he was helping her, or she him. The ambiguity of this collaboration did not prevent her from giving everything she had. At the end of a few hours neither of them had found anything to support their conjectures. On the one hand, Vera was glad not to find anything which implicated Zillo. On the other, she was still wondering what Carda wanted to find and why. It might not be the same thing as she was after.
Vera began to look for ways of avoiding collaboration with Carda. Time sped by. In less than an hour they would have to close the screen and leave the building. Her attention was divided once again. If she could convince Carda to interrupt the search until the next day, she could secretly contact Father Zillo. Warn him, although she was not sure of what. As she investigated his e-mails, Vera was plotting an about turn. She had stood up. She was ready to divert the investigation. At almost the precise instant when time and her will came to a standstill for a few seconds, her attention suddenly focused to zoom in on an element, isolating it as if under a magnifying glass. There it was, the sign. Even without the precision provided by an ABD, among the sea of e-mails to the usual recipients, one new name surfaced like a unique piece in the collection. Only two e-mails sent by Zillo to this address clearly represented something unusual. What was even more striking was what was missing. That the recipient had never replied was more significant than any documents they could be looking for. Vera analysed the details. She did not know the name nor was there sufficient information to decide whether or not it meant anything. She turned to Carda. Absorbed in fast-reading the documents, he went from one to another at speed. She recognised in his face the blank canvas of his expression. She would have given anything to have some insight into what she thought she had discovered without having to share it with Carda. However unique, an item of information was no use if it meant nothing to her if she was not equipped with the knowledge to give it value. She was bound to cooperate. Being unable to read either its essence or Carda’s, Vera closed her eyes and decided to take a leap.
‘Do you know a Daniel Lo?’
‘Of course.’ Carda’s face changed. He got up immediately and went to Vera to peer at the screen. ‘The great Daniel. He’s an exceptional programmer. He was one of my teachers.’
‘I thought I recognised the name,’ Vera lied. ‘There are two e-mails Father Zillo sent to Daniel Lo. There’s no reply. One to arrange a meeting in the Budbar. Another to tell him about a bonus.’
‘Bonus? Daniel retired years ago. What’s the date on them?’ Carda preferred not to mention the Budbar.
‘The first meeting was some six months before the launch of Cf. The other was a week after the launch.’
Carda and Vera looked at each other for the first time with one certainty in common.
‘I can trace his e-mail address and briefly access his PEF to get his details,’ Vera continued not only revealing her skills as a hacker but also openly offering them.
‘You can’t do it from Zillo’s screen.’
‘I know.’ Vera would have preferred to get the information without his help.
Even if she wanted to, there was no way of getting rid of him and continuing on her own. Her options were limited. To access the personal electronic files they had to do so either from her flat or from Carda’s. The proposal was clear. She couldn’t envisage Carda being in her flat where she had so often talked to Galo about the attitudes of her ex-boss. Now he was not only a peer, but a colleague. The second option was even less attractive. She was not used to making sudden decisions. Circumstances were demanding; even when they gave her vertigo, what Vera did not lack was boldness.
‘Let’s go to my flat. I’ve used Galo’s membrane to access the PEFs. So far I’ve managed to evade being traced.’
‘Perfect.’
Carda activated his sensor and copied the e-mails on the screen. He copied all the documents still to be examined onto Zillo’s membrane and removed the card. He closed the screen, rolled up the membrane and put it in his pocket.
‘I’m going to my office to check that everything is in order. You do the same and I’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes. It’s best if you leave first, in fifteen minutes. Walk to the corner and pretend to take a call. I’ll catch up with you when I leave.’
Vera would have preferred them to leave together. Although there was enough justification not to, to avoid their exit being logged as anomalous behaviour. She could not make out if Carda was protecting the investigation, himself or, implausible though it might seem, her.
Vera inserted the access card in spite of a persistent feeling of disquiet. As soon as they arrived at her flat she hurried inside to check that the bedroom door was locked. This was the room she had left in the chaos of the other night, so brutally revealing. Carda was waiting in the corridor and it felt inconceivable to let him in. Now Vera must shut out any hesitation. She had nothing left to lose.
Once again silence hung between them on crossing the threshold of the profoundly private space. It was where Vera had lived most of her life with Galo. There where Galo had decided to strip her of his existence. Where Vera had discovered his body and his secret. Now she opened the door to a nameless new phase. Nothing in her experience was quite like this. After the initial wariness on feeling Carda’s immediate presence, Vera discovered how and to what extent the past few weeks had transformed the space. The past hardly existed any more. Now more than ever it became a place for seeking the truth.
She gave herself a break after the initial shock, busying herself with the routine of defrosting two Gourmet boxes and putting them on the table. There was no need to invite him to sit down or share supper. Carda made the transition easy for her by keeping his distance. Responding to the clear non-verbal instructions of his reserved behaviour, Vera switched on the screen to fill the void with The Other One. In silence they stared at their food and like two animals cautious about their surroundings they ate unusually fast, eage
r to resume the investigation. Even if The Other One announced the most sensational events, Vera and Carda could only hear the shrillness of their own thoughts. Once freed from the need to recharge their batteries, the task in hand would bring everything back to normal.
Vera sat down with Galo’s membrane. Carda continued looking through the Cf documents. Even though it might be risky, taking Zillo’s membrane was the only way of getting classified information out of the building. The security systems would track the incompatibility of any other membrane or memory card. Security would sound the alarm.
Accessing the PEFs and downloading information had become routine for Vera. The task took her no more than a couple of hours. Finally Carda and Vera sat down to analyse the master programmer’s personal, professional and financial information.
‘Just as I said. Daniel’s been retired from programming for years now. And from teaching.’
‘There aren’t any payments made by Vatican Software Inc. around the dates of Zillo’s e-mail, either. His last income from the company was before he retired.’
‘Daniel hasn’t worked for years.’
‘The bonus Zillo mentioned doesn’t make sense.’
‘Of course not. It’s not even official. We’d better pay him a visit,’ Carda took the initiative – and, for the first time, Vera did not feel threatened.
Perhaps Carda’s harshness was related to his unconditional dedication to work. For years now nobody had kept him company, or waited for him, or mentioned his name. Everybody had at least one person even if it was just a friend or someone in the family. Carda seemed to be a man distanced from everyone. The only apparent link was with Zillo. A cold but familiar link. The familiarity of work. Although Carda’s private solitude was an unknown quantity, it explained his curt behaviour better than anything else. Maybe it was just extreme awkwardness. Inexplicably Vera felt for the first time a certain clumsy warmth by his side.
The Vatican Games Page 16