The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #1 & #2)

by Smith, J Gordon

  Garin sat in the coffee shop with his back to the wall. He brought in his large-screen nearly importable laptop. But this work required so many command line text screens arrayed like tarot cards across the screen that something smaller would be too difficult. And two or three monitors fanned out on the little table might seem too unusual and draw unnatural attention.

  He sipped at his coffee and thought about laughing at the irony. He planned hacking into the business account servers at his own business, Ramsburgh Industries. He owned the place but since they did such high level government contract work he didn’t have the government security clearances to know what products the company produced. Let alone the detailed financial records. A passive investor.

  What cowered in those financial records that caused Yashar sufficient fear to kill my mother and attempt killing Anna and I?

  His laptop came to the ready prompt. He set up secure tunnels from the coffee shop out to a pair of servers he bought the previous day with another account on a compute cloud server. The coffee shop setup he used as a peering post on the screens running those two servers. His data traffic, if anyone cared, would have the heft of a regular business person checking and responding to their email. He set up a script to pass meaningless email chatter back and forth to another server on a public email address to keep any curious hackers busy. Eavesdropping on his tunnel might cause some difficulty as he used a secure shell with the latest 4096 bit length key.

  The familiar Slackware operating system icon returned on both servers. Blinking. Waiting. Still panting as if hounds from their operating system post install steps but now ready to run. Garin plugged his headphones into his computer and looped music in the background. The big screen on the computer hid the speed of his typing. A trick he’d figured out included typing many of his keystrokes in bunches so casual listeners heard slower and lazier key pushing. The screens scrolled. He could hear the tight electronic hiss of the graphics chip pushing content to the liquid crystal display only to have it replaced by more commands and further responses. The hounds raced on the hunt.

  He busted through the firewall and the subsequent six security layers. The facial recognition and fingerprint pads seemed laughable to circumvent with his code. Especially since, they had chosen a too common commercial operating system solution. Many of the advanced IT groups in Europe switched to Linux long ago to avoid this ease. Sales reps and marketing still worked too many wonders in the US to convince non-technology executives what their IT groups needed instead of the other way around.

  A few more tugs on the ties using lightly modified rainbow tables and the security apron fell. Memos and email database searches revealed notes from Yashar to Dr. Theron Aravant of The Bank of Draydon regarding potential sale to one of the business’s smaller divisions. A meeting with Garin’s mother Thyia and Aravant hosted by Yashar showed her official response of No Sale. Then reports of her murder. Transfer of assets to Garin. Nothing useful.

  Garin backed out of the email server and dove into the finance accounts. He started at the top layer summaries. These are what did get published to him and while he knew the documents had been faked his problem became finding exactly where the fictitious work hid. Siphoning off accounts receivable or accounts payable? Excessive markups? Payments to fictitious companies for services never actually received or needed? A lot of avenues for the clever financier, and Yashar had been clever.

  Garin pulled a code snippet from his computer and pasted it into the window. The code, based on Benford’s Law published in 1938, tallied number frequencies in large data sets, particularly useful in financial records. It gave him a first slice through the meat revealing the locations of Yashar’s special cleverness. Garin wrote the custom code based on Benford’s Law when advising the Bank of Draydon in acquiring or avoiding potential companies. Garin uncovered a few situations that Draydon had considered acquiring with books so cooked they reeked brimstone through their core. Garin’s servers worked together digging their thick paws through fifty years of raw data. He piped the information they uncovered into a few charts and let the code continue excavating. Slowly patterns in the dirt pile merged and then several service business accounts listed in both in and out transactions came up with red flags.

  “A tangled web Yashar – and you weren’t alone.”

  -:- Three -:-

  “Hey Shannon. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Are you kidding? This is effectively mid-day for me already. My kids are up before dawn.”

  “Are you staying home today?” I asked. I stood in front of my apartment’s big window in my yellow sweats and an Anime blazed T-shirt I slept in. Water drizzled lazily down the glass. The tops of cars careened by in haste to beat rush hour traffic through the rain. Gouts of frothy water gushed out the sides of their fenders and their windshields only momentarily cleared by fast flicking wipers. “I decided a couple of days ago to take the day off and already gave a note to Marilyn.”

  “Nice to vacation on a rainy Friday,” she said. A bang and something fell crashing like London Bridge and little voices squealing with laughter and shouts suggested her children constructed or dismantled something in the background. “No school today so all four are home. Not doing my normal Friday morning grocery shopping either. One or two are ok but they are too much together. If the kids ate anything other than cereal or macaroni and cheese I’d be forced to go. Plenty of that. So no. I’m staying here all day.”

  That menu basically filled my pantry too – thanks Mom … “That’s fine. They’ll be fun to see.”

  “How soon are you coming over?”

  “I thought after I changed and found some coffee. I know you don’t keep any in the house anymore.”

  “Nope, still no caffeine here. Good idea stopping on your way.”

  “I’ll be over soon.”

  -:- -:- -:-

  “Kids!” Shannon yelled into the house interior, “Aunty Anna is here to see you!”

  “You’ve changed the porch pillars?” I said, closing the door against the continuing rain. Shannon lived in a neat little red brick ranch on a quiet cul-de-sac. A modest home for a CPA and a test lab Engineer. Shannon wanted a fully funded retirement account and the kid’s college plans paid for rather than a big McMansion, fancy cars, and extended credit cards. Michael her husband remained content to build their portfolio too. He had a skill in skipping over the stock market crashes while getting reasonable returns between. Their neighbors assumed her sister struggled like the rest of the world but they didn’t know that actual next-door millionaires lived there.”

  “I like the look of these a lot better,” I said comparing to the other houses around, “it makes the front of the house look more solid and comforting.”

  “Thanks –”

  “Aunti Anna!” The four children burst out among giggles.

  I knelt down and hugged them all. I liked being an Aunt.

  “Did you bring us anything?” asked Joanna, the four year old begged, her little pigtails quivering.

  Three year old Julie hopped up and down clapping. Her spindly legs ringed in tights the colors of Sesame Street puppets and shook like rubber bands while her pigtails flopped up and down over her ears.

  Five year old James remained stoic in his little jeans and black T-shirt yet looked at me hopeful while Josh squeezed my leg the tightest of any two year old and thought hopping might be a good idea too, the buckles on his overalls jingling.

  “What might Aunti Anna have in here?” I let go of my purse against the entry closet door revealing the little white bag I brought from the candy shop. I let them look in. Four little heads blocked Shannon and my sight from the contents.

  “Donuts!!!” They screeched.

  Two swift hands chased the treats into the bag and nearly ripped the paper.

  “Hold on kids,” I said, barely rescuing the bag from spilling everything on the floor.

  Shannon looked at me, “Do they have sugar and cinnamon?”

  I
nodded, holding up four fingers.

  “James, why don’t you take the bag to the kitchen table and you each share.”

  Plunder in hand the raiding party scrambled for the kitchen.

  “Anna, give me your wet coat and I’ll hang it up here so it drips over the boot mat.” Shannon tipped her head, “It’s quiet over there. James must have done ok with dividing and sharing. We’ve been working on that.”

  I kicked my shoes off, “Think they will have any left by the time we get out there?”

  “No. But it’s already the quietest it’s been since five thirty. Of course, you’ll be here when the sugar kicks in.”

  The kids ran out of the kitchen back to play. Shannon grabbed a paper towel, wet it with some soap and water, and washed down the table from the surprising array of sugar and donut crumbs. A mechanical habit after four kids.

  “You’ve been losing weight?”

  “Thanks, but only five pounds. A couple of glasses of water and I’ll be back up. It doesn’t come off now like it used to.”

  “You’ve still got a few months of forty-two left.”

  Shannon looked me up and down, “Oh, to return to twenty, such a time, and such a body. Look at you.”

  “Hey, you look great.”

  “Well, after having four kids close together and being old I’ve done ok.”

  “Are you glad you waited on kids?”

  She spun out a couple of glasses and poured diet caffeine-free pop into them from a two-liter bottle. “Why don’t we sit on the couch?” she handed me a glass, “– I don’t know. There are advantages and trade-offs with either. We could ask Mom too, she had me at your age and you at my age.”

  “Think I had been a surprise?” I sat on the long red couch with the subtle Victorian print weave.

  “I often wondered but no. I get it now being her age.”

  The kids played in James’s room poking pillows and stuffed animals into their play tent. Josh ran out, “S’cuse me. Pillow!” he tugged at the pillow behind me. I leaned forward and he scampered back to the bedroom with his prize.

  “So cute.” I watched him disappear into the bedroom.

  “They’ll be back for the other pillows –” the two girls ran out and squeezed a pile of pillows in their arms and ran back, “– I’ll be bringing the pillows back later of course.”

  “How do you mean you understand now?” I sipped my pop.

  “We could ask Mom sometime but being born so quickly after Mom and Dad got married I saw them struggling with their careers. So I went to college, started working and did the career thing. Then Michael and I learned too much too late about exponentially falling fertility rates in our late thirties.”

  “I remember, really bad over here when you tried for the kids.”

  “You get pangs of regret when you see others with new babies and know your time for it is done or close to done. Really dangerous and difficult after forty even though the celebrity moms are all in the magazines urging everyone on. Not healthy.”

  “I can’t imagine what went on between you two.”

  “The kids are worth it and fortunately they are healthy. But a difficult time.”

  “Including talking to a divorce lawyer.”

  “Yes. It got bad. I guess that’s what finally forced us. Michael is a problem solver but I’m not. I pushed back on his home science suggestions and his charting. We finally saw some specialists and learned about physiology and timing in a completely different way. Which taught me Michael’s charting gave us more accuracy than I gave him credit.”

  “I won’t tell.”

  “Good. I’d never hear the end of it.” Shannon smiled, “But we did finally have four healthy and beautiful kids.” She set her glass on the coffee table.

  “So you’d start earlier if doing it again?”

  “I don’t know. I really love these kids. If I had children earlier than they would be different and not these.”

  “Messes with your head.”

  “Yes.” Shannon looked at me, “If I gave advice, and that is all it is, I’d suggest thinking hard about it. You don’t want to rush into some relationship that deep at your age. But work up some sort of plan. A lot of people and it depends on the profession you choose, take a few years off work and do some freelance projects or get family to help while they stay partly “in the game”. Many look into starting some sort of business that you don’t have to go to a regular corporate office. The Internet and a shipping company give anyone global reach.”

  “One of the patent graphics designers that Marilyn uses is a stay-at-home mom in Wisconsin that works by email and video conferencing.”

  “Yes, like that.”

  “Not that I do Computer Aided Design work, but the patent drawings have strict style specifications for the inventors and she does them for Marilyn. Fairly inexpensive considering other options.”

  “A Home office is a great low overhead business option.”

  I drank more of my pop.

  “I’ve been helping a few businesses in town with their book keeping and yearend financial reporting needs. It’s a lot less complicated than the work I did at General Motors for their Treasury group but it’s also much more personal with fewer politics. Unless you count the hair pulling knock-down fights between my kids.”

  “That’s funny,” I laughed.

  “Getting corporate experience is valuable in acquiring contacts and domain knowledge though.”

  “I’ll have to get a husband before I need to worry about that.”

  She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, “Not any more with current science but it’s a good idea.”

  “I love my nieces and nephews – but I’m not ready for my own.”

  Shannon glanced at the big clock on the hallway wall, “You decided to see me with nothing else planned?”

  “No. Well. I wanted to talk.” I fidgeted. I pulled up my socks and straightened back the legs on my jeans. Shannon watched me. I knew she waited. At last I said, “Don’t tell Mom.”

  “Uh oh. Why? Are you pregnant?”

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  “Vampires are real.”

  “– MOM!!!” Joanna yelled.

  Julie ran out holding her head. Her eyes full of tears and her face reddening, “Mom!! Joanna hit me!”

  “Oh let me see,” Shannon said, then like a drill Sergeant, “Joanna, get out here.”

  Joanna tiptoed to the corner of the hallway and peered around. Julie stomped in a circle under a full steam of blubbering explaining words. I heard “not sharing” … “hitting” … “my pillow”.

  “Joanna, what happened?”

  Joanna’s voice ramped up to concern levels and sped along like a race car, “Julie took my pillow so I took hers and Josh wasn’t sharing and James is sitting on all the pillows.”

  Shannon said after inspecting Julie’s head and not finding any real injuries, “I want you sharing or I’ll put the tent away. Do you want me to put the tent away?”

  Joanna said, “No Mommy.”

  “Off you go Julie. Play nice.”

  Joanna stomped back into the bedroom, “James! You have to share or Mommy will put the tent away!”

  “You understand?” Shannon yelled to them. “We’ll start with timeouts next.”

  Murmurs of dejected consent filtered back. I could envision how their shoulders hung low.

  Shannon said to me, “That will hold them for about fifteen minutes.” She stood up, “The real days of a stay at home parent.”

  “You’re selling me on this pretty hard. Where are the cuddly bunnies and romping puppies like the television commercials?”

  “One of those Realistic Job Preview opportunities.” Shannon stepped over to the kitchen and opened a cabinet, “You have any plans for the rest of the day?”

  “No, why?”

  “I have a feeling we’re going to need this … and these.” She set a bottle of wine and a pair of small wine glasses on the cof
fee table. She flipped out the curly pig-tail of a bottle opener to spin into the cork.

  “Aren’t you worried about spilling it on the carpet?”

  “You haven’t seen what four little kids do to carpet. Fruit juice with extra dyes over there – why do they need to put more dye in? Ground in mud and mulberries stamped through the house from the tree in the back yard over there. I could go on and on. This is white wine anyway.” Shannon twisted the opener into the cork and eased the tang up. A short pop and the cork came out. She filled each glass to their equator.

  “So what is this about Vampires?”

  “This is pretty good.” I said. “What brand?”

  “Pinot Gris from Monte De Oro winery in Temecula. From when Michael and I went out on our anniversary.”

  “I thought you went to San Diego when Mom watched your kids.”

  “Temecula is less than an hour from either San Diego or Los Angeles. We went for the wine tour.”

  I pulled the glass away from my lips, “You’re giving me some of your anniversary wine?”

  “No. We joined the wine club and get quarterly shipments. I have another couple of mixed cases under the basement stairs. I’ve been intending to have a grownup party one of these days.”

  “Rather than kids birthday parties and play dates?”

  “Yes.”

  Then I thought I better get back to my story, like peeling a bandage off, “The ultimate bad boy biker dude with tattoos wouldn’t be any worse.”

  “I’m not sure I believe in vampires. They are fine entertainment for books and movies though.”

  “I didn’t believe either, at first.” I pushed myself back into the couch, “It started with little things. Like amazing reflexes. Incredible speed and sense of hearing and sight. I saw those before he told me. This only validated what he told me.”

  “Did he tell you the truth? Have you seen him … be a vampire?” Shannon pulled a blanket across herself from the back of the big chair she sat in. She took a big gulp of wine.

  “I’ve never seen him feed. If that’s what you mean. I’ve seen him kill other vampires. And at least once came too close … he could have slipped and drank me.”