'Whoa, whoa, stop!' I threw up my hands, taking a step back before the woman could continue ranting. 'I'm not here to tag your walls! I just wanted to use a computer!'
'Really?' The woman sat back in her chair with a huff, somewhat deflated. She still looked a suspicious. 'Oh. They're in the back. Usually there's a time limit, but no one really comes here anymore. Not since those government agents shut down public access to the Internet…'
She pointed down one aisle, and I thanked her quickly before scurrying away. A part of me was still worried the librarian would break out into another rant; the other part of me was wondering how I could accomplish my plan without an Internet connection. Why would the Sokovian government shutdown the Internet? There would probably be riots if something like that happened in America. You couldn't just take away the Internet without considering repercussions. What were they afraid of?
Unfortunately, the politics behind this problem wasn't my main concern. I found the computer hub against the back wall of the library — there were maybe ten terminals in all, old school Macintosh with early 90's operating systems. Surprisingly, I was reassured by this. Old school coding was my thing, thanks to Peter's computer, and I had a pretty good understanding of how it worked. It also helped that coding was a lot simpler back then, and I knew my way around routing numbers and ISPs thanks to school. I may or may not have considered hacking into the school system to change Astor's grades once or twice.
Never did, though. I didn't really have the heart to ruin someone's life like that, even if that person was Astor.
(Also the risk of getting caught, but that was less a factor than I'd ever admit aloud).
Choosing a computer at random, I made quick surveillance of what programs it had to offer. Luckily, I didn't have to log into anything to access the basic desktop. It even had an Internet Explorer icon, a twist I didn't expect. Clicking on it revealed the homepage to Sokovia's main news website — a rudimentary design titled The Soviet Gazette.
Soviet? Sokovia was Communist? Huh.
I didn't put too much thought to it, because I didn't hang around on that website for long. My first destination was Google — which quickly proved to be censored. All I got was a 111 error, something I'd never seen before. I guess one of the benefits of living in America was having a free Internet, which was something I didn't really appreciate until now.
Well, guess I was going to have to stretch my coding legs for this one.
Cracking my knuckles, and not even considering how illegal this was, I went to work.
It took some digging around in the computer's OS system to find the input to the ISP. There was only one in Novi Grad, but that wouldn't be a problem. I could use the same satellite that connected me to it to access another, less Big Brother satellite. And just like the computers, the ISP was also a decade or two behind the times. I was in my element.
It took me about ten minutes to write the code to reroute my IP address, and somewhere in the middle I wondered what would happen if I got caught. I was sort of amazed at myself when it hit me: I was hacking. I'd never hacked before, not even at school. I mean, I always knew I could hack, theoretically, but I never crossed that line.
Even more important, I wondered why doing something illegal wasn't bothering me like it should.
Maybe it was like my last time in New York, when I got home and Mom caught me and Peter sneaking out. I hadn't care then that I was in trouble; and I was a lot more afraid of Mom than anyone else in the world, at least at the time.
And after being attacked by agents of the Crucible? I guess my priorities got rearranged.
But I didn't want to be those kind of hackers that hurt people. Black hat hackers, that doxxed people and stole identities, credit cards, compromised private companies, ruined innocent lives just for funzies. For one, hella jail time, and two, no conscience. I liked to consider I had a pretty active conscience.
I settled my nerves by considering myself a white hat hacker. Someone who tested security and instead of exposing it, just let the right guy know. I wasn't here to make a big deal out of anything. I just wanted my email.
At the end of my coding edit, I paused before typing in my old username. Miss_Chevious. I came up with that when I was eleven when they taught how to make an email account at school, and it still made me laugh today. Seeing it now made me smile; it was great to have a computer under my fingertips again.
Most hackers had a signature, part of their alias, something to be remembered by if and when their work was discovered. Sometimes they were complex, like large visual designs made with keyboard symbols, or a phrase like 'fun kitty meow meow' or something else irreverent and stupid. Miss_Chevious might as well be mine, since it was the signature I used on all of my coding work, at least until I became legit or something. It was simple and easy to remember, and I was not in the mood (nor did I have the time) to get all fancy and arrogant leaving behind a better one.
Besides, it wasn't like I planned on making a habit of this. Why put in that extra effort? I'd just be a blip on the hacking radar, a nobody that got swallowed up in bigger groups like the Rising Tide, which may or may not be behind government leaks from last year. I finished the command, and hit enter.
Then I waited.
The cursor spun for a full minute as the browser went through the process.
Ding.
I was in.
A grin drew across my face as the Google search page finally appeared on my screen. When was the last time Sokovia had free internet access?
I wasn't dumb enough to use my own Google account to get email access. I had to start over with a new one, which admittedly didn't take very long, but I wondered how long it would take for whoever was in charge of Novi Grad's ISP realized they'd been hacked. I gained anonymity with choosing a public computer, but that didn't mean it couldn't be shut down remotely.
And it wasn't like I was good enough to cover my tracks. I had no idea how hackers didn't get caught. I just knew how to code, and I hoped applying it here didn't turn me into a well-meaning-but-still-guilty criminal or something.
Besides, leaving behind that signature meant that a part of me wanted to get caught. Just a little bit.
Deciding I'd have to compensate with a really short message, I finally opened up a new email draft. There was no time for me to change the keyboard keys to English, but I kept the message as simple and easy to understand as possible, while also keeping it coded in case anyone else happened to be reading Peter's emails like they were screening his calls. The message read:
I am alive.
Novi Grad.
— Goose
I smashed out the first email address I could think of — Peter's, of course — before hitting send. I didn't start breathing again until I got the 'message sent' notification.
It was only then did I realize I just typed the entire email in Sokovian.
'Dammit!' I slammed my palm against the table, before dropping my head on it. I didn't even realize I'd been thinking in a different language, and it didn't register to me at all as I read it on the screen. Would Peter be able to understand? Would he translate the Cyrillic, or would he think it's just weird spam email?
I hoped for the latter, but I didn't want to risk it. Time spent wasted on a wrongly-made message meant I was in danger longer. I opened up another draft, ready to start over, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
'Amelia!'
Hearing my name and feeling the touch at once nearly had me jumping three feet into the air. I spun around in my seat, startled to find Pietro there, staring down at me with a fearful look in his eyes. My heart pounding, I hissed, 'Jesus, you scared me! What're you doing here?'
'We came looking for you!' Pietro said, bending down so we could see eye-to-eye, planting his hands on his knees as he glanced towards the doors. 'Wanda sensed the agents coming closer. They must have seen you earlier. We have to go before they find us again.'
'Wait, sens
ed? What does that mean?' I made a face at the unusual phrasing. 'Wait, how'd you even find me here?'
Pietro just shrugged, pulling at my arm, making me stand up. I barely had time to logout and close the browser before he was dragging me away, towards the exit. 'Hey, slow down!'
'Wanda always knows where you are.' Pietro said, not even looking at me as he pulled me outside. And there she was, the other twin waiting for us on the sidewalk. 'We should go, there's too much space here…'
'What were you doing?' Wanda asked as we gathered outside the library. Pietro finally let go of my arm and I rolled my shoulders.
'I was just sending a message to a friend,' I said, rubbing my arm and throwing a disgruntled look at Pietro, who had the grace to look chagrined. 'I didn't know you two were so high-strung. What's the big deal?'
'Sending a message?' Wanda tilted her head, surprised. It was like she didn't even hear the last part. 'How?'
'Uh. On the computer. With the Internet.'
The twins gave me identical expressions of confusion. I winced inwardly, adding, 'You know, email?'
'What is email?' Pietro asked, which confirmed my worst fear.
'You're not serious.'
'We know what a computer is,' Wanda said, looking a little annoyed at my tone of voice. She crossed her arms, screwing up her lips. 'There were plenty in the Crucible. The doctors used them all the time. We just were not allowed to touch. We were not allowed near them at all. Not even you, at least not at first. That was part of how we escaped, from what you told us. You knew how the computers worked.'
'I did?' This was news to me. I remembered I still had no idea how we got out of the Crucible, or what kind of challenge I had been up against. If the electronic security had been anything like I'd seen so far in Novi Grad, it wasn't that surprising to think I would've found a way around it. 'Well, I guess that makes sense.'
'What was your message about?' Pietro asked.
'It was to my cousin. I couldn't call him earlier,' I said, earning a look of surprise from Wanda. 'There were...phone problems.'
'You did not tell me that,' she said, and her frown appeared hurt. 'Why did you not say anything? We could have helped.'
'I…' I made a face, rocked back on my heels and looked away. 'I guess I was scared. And maybe a little frustrated with you two. The argument and all. It was stupid. But this was the only way I knew how to solve the problem. And it worked, at least I think so. I don't think Peter can read Sokovian, though.'
'Peter?' Wanda and Pietro said at the same time. Wanda pointed at her brother, 'Not this one?'
I smiled a little, shaking my head. 'No, no, my cousin Peter. It's like the same name, I know. One of you is hard enough to deal with —' I got a proud grin from Pietro for that — 'Peter's practically my best friend. He's the only one I trust at home right now. I couldn't reach my mom, so… I told him I was here, in Sokovia. That I was still alive. I'm sure they're still looking for me at home. I hope they don't think I'm dead.'
'Hmm,' Wanda pursed her lips, glancing at Pietro before back at me. She held out her hand and took mine, squeezing reassuringly. 'They will not give up on you, Amelia. You have good family at home, yes? If they are anything like me and Pietro, they will not stop looking until they find you.'
I felt that spark again, against her skin. Not like the weird romantic spark you read about in books, but a literal spark of light, electricity. It was so weird, and the fact that it happened again made me think I wasn't just imagining it anymore. There was something seriously weird about these two, even if I couldn't figure out what it was.
For now, I was okay with that. 'Thanks, Wanda. It means a lot.'
'This is very sweet and gross and all,' Pietro interrupted, holding up his hands. That seemed to be his go-to gesture to get our attention. 'But I think we should go back now. Also, I am hungry.'
Wanda rolled her eyes. 'You are always hungry, Pietro.'
'So what?' Pietro just shrugged helplessly, although there was an impish smile on his face as he started to lead the way back. We stepped out onto the road, waiting for a few cars to pass before crossing. 'I need it! I am not fast without food.'
'No one is fast without food,' I said, but didn't put too much stock into those words. There was a strange lightness in my chest; I knew that the argument from last time wasn't quite over, and that there was still trouble out there — but I couldn't deny there wasn't some small joy in walking together, not alone, having someone to talk to, even if you didn't know them very well.
I took some solace in this. We were walking for maybe ten minutes, and I guess the library was farther from the theatre than I thought, because I had no idea where we were. But the twins seemed to know where they were going, and I trusted them to lead us.
So far, the way seemed clear, and the twins relaxed enough to even agree to get some food first. I wasn't as excited because, you know, that meant stealing, but at this point I didn't think I could convince them otherwise.
Luckily (or perhaps not so luckily), there was a bakery nearby, maybe a quarter mile down. We were in a mostly residential district, with businesses on the street level of buildings. Not wanting to take part in the whole stealing bit, I hung out two doors away from the bakery, back against the wall with my arms crossed. Technically, I was 'keeping watch' but right now I was pretending I wasn't totally letting them get away with this.
Ugh. It bothered me, but not as much as before. Maybe I was just getting desensitized or something — as stupid as that sounds, but I was getting annoyed with myself for spending so much time thinking and worrying about it. I decided, then and there as I was watching the street, that stealing would be a necessary evil for us. We stole because we had to, not because we wanted to.
There was also the fact that, you know I had worst problems to deal with. And I was also hungry. Serious, stomach-pinching hungry.
This didn't make me happy, but at least I was satisfied knowing this stealing wasn't done out of greed.
So I stood there. And I waited.
In actuality, the twins weren't gone very long. As Pietro boasted earlier, he was indeed fast, and the only thing I really had to entertain myself with was watching the pedestrians across the street. There were a few kids out playing, their laughter carrying over the general din of everyday traffic, passing a red ball between them, kicking it back and forth.
For the first time today, I spotted not one, but two of those roof guards, only now they were on the street. They looked all official, with uniforms and badges all out and ready to see. I kept an eye on them; the guards hadn't noticed me, but for some reason they had their guns out.
My attention was diverted by a tap on the shoulder. I turned my head, jumping a little at the twins suddenly standing right next to me. It was like they appeared out of thin air. 'Whoa, hey, you're back.'
'They did not even see us,' Wanda said with a smug look. She had a threadbare messenger bag slung over her shoulder, and she reached in it, pulling out two muffins, handing them both to me. Having settled my inner qualms, I took both without hesitance. Wanda raised a skeptical eyebrow, apparently gauging my reaction, and said, 'We have more, but eat this for now.'
I glanced back at the soldiers I saw earlier, still on alert; I just spotted the last one entering one of the apartment buildings, before vanishing from sight. I relaxed a little, just before I turned back to the twins again.
'We should get more before we go back,' Pietro said, who was already finishing his own pastry. There was fine dusting of sugar around his lips, a second mustache. 'This will only last a day.'
'Don't go back to the bakery,' I said right away, taking a bite into my muffin. 'They'll know you're up to something if they see you again and you didn't buy anything.'
The twins gave me startled looks. Around my mouthful, I asked, 'What? I don't want you to get caught.'
'Huh.' Pietro remarked, raising an eyebrow in the same manner as his sister, but there was a smirk on h
is face that said he approved of my advice. He nudged Wanda with his elbow. 'Well, you have funny way of thinking, Amelia. But I remember seeing small market a few blocks back…'
I didn't hear the rest of what Pietro said because my ears picked up on a commotion to my right. I glanced over to see that the soldiers coming out of the building again, this time with someone in tow; a young man, with his arms over his head. They were shouting aplenty, catching looks as the man argued, perhaps for his innocence.
The disturbance had the rest of the pedestrians shying away. The kids kept their heads bowed — other pedestrians made wide berths around them, some even crossing the street, all averting their eyes like there wasn't a soldier trying to bully some random people.
'What's going on?' I asked, interrupting Pietro while I was still looking at the scene. When they didn't answer right away, I swiveled my head to frown at them. 'Are they arresting him?'
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