by Eric Flint
"Not tonight, Rolf, I have a lot to do. Please." She stepped past him and through the door, which he closed and locked behind her, as usual. She went in to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and started to clean it very quickly. While wiping off the mirror, her reflection caught her eye. Any other night, she would have ignored it. Tonight, she stopped and stared. The harsh fluorescent lighting in the white bathroom gave her face a hard and worn look. Her plain brown eyes had lines under them, and crow's feet at the edges. There were dark circles under her eyes, a too large jaw and a too large nose for her face. Her hair was pulled back with a scarf tied around the back of her head. It surprised her how old she looked. She spent several moments mesmerized by her face. Her expression then began to go from neutral to hardened. Her expression made her uncomfortable. Resolutely, she embraced the discomfort, turned, and headed out the door of the bathroom flipping off the lights as she went.
She immediately went to the next to last office at the end of the hallway, and closed the door behind her. She then pulled up her dress, and began to bring objects out of the shift beneath. The first was a small flashlight, that she held in her mouth, the others she placed on the table. She then unwound two cables from beneath her shirt, a tiny one and a larger, thicker one. She crawled under the table where the tall box for the computer sat, then pulled the computer away from the wall to access the back. She unscrewed one of the thicker cables, and then inserted her own, routing it to the top of the table. The other cable, the extension cord, was plugged into a power strip, and into that cable, she inserted a fist-sized black box she knew was a power supply. That cord she quickly routed to the table top.
She scanned the tabletop with the small flashlight for the next items. A small flat blue box, with a slot in the front, and a small floppy disk. Into the blue box she plugged the cords. A light lit up on the blue box. She inserted the floppy into the computer on the floor, and turned on the power. The machine cranked slowly to life. She held her breath for a moment, and waited for the old one hundred megahertz machine to recognize the floppy, and start to boot from it.
It did. She started to breathe. She was focused, she had practiced long hours to understand all of the components, to be able to connect them in the dark.
She reached under her skirt again, and pulled four small square plastic boxes, removed the one hundred megabyte Zip disk (she remembered how she smiled at the funny name the first time she heard it) and placed it into the blue Zip drive where she had already connected the cables. She then removed the floppy from the computer, and restarted it.
While the machine slowly rebooted, she went to adjacent offices and began to quickly dump the trash cans into her cart. It would not do to not have the office at least partially clean, anything else she could blame on the fact Margit was not in tonight. She completed six offices by the time the computer was ready to be used. She glanced at the locked door, where Rolf sat outside. Up to this point, she had been too busy to be frightened. Now came the hard part. Sitting in front of the computer and copying files to the external Zip drive.
Since the security to the machine was bypassed with her floppy, she was able to access the files. But it took time. Time to locate the right files, time to copy the files to the discs, and time to remove any evidence of her being there. Sitting and looking at the screen, with little else to do than wait for the process, her nervousness began to build.
She scanned the file tree for the files labeled "NSICSH," and copied them to the zip drive. Nasi Cash, is what that stood for, she knew. It was a slow transfer. While other files were transferring, she dashed out and grabbed waste cans from three other offices and emptied them. She copied other files onto the disks, swapping them out until they were full. She knew it was taking too much time. She would be in the security area longer than normal. And that could raise suspicions if someone reviewed the logbook. But there was little she could do, except wait for the files to copy, excruciatingly slow, to the external drive.
The contents of the computer looked like mostly spreadsheet files filled with financial data. When the last Zip disk filled, she began to disassemble the devices and reconnect the system to the original configuration. She placed the disks, power supply and the blue Zip drive into the pockets sewn into her shift. She shut the computer down, and then restarted it. She only had to wait for it to boot up again, and then shut it down for the last time, understanding this action would erase evidence of her presence.
While the machine was rebooting, she emptied the last of the trash cans, and was in the hallway on her way back to the open office, when Ursula heard the key turn in the lock of the hallway door. She suddenly stopped, halfway back to the computer, her back to the door. She heard the hallway door open, and Rolf called to her. "Ursula? Miss Volz? What are you doing in there tonight, my beautiful girl? You are ten minutes longer than usual."
Her heart, which was finally beginning to settle down, started beating wildly again. "I-I'm just about finished Rolf, I will be right there."
"You are done in here for tonight, and don't argue with me. You have been working too hard young lady, and you need to go home." He walked into the hallway to her cart, and began to drag it out of the room. "Wait until Margit comes back here, I am going to give her a piece of my mind, leaving you to do all the work. Let's go. Now."
She stayed still, trying to figure out how to get back to the office where the computer was still on. She had to turn it off, and she had to do it without raising Rolf's suspicions. She turned to Rolf. "I just have the one office to finish, Rolf. Let me finish that one." She pointed to the open door.
"Okay, young lady. But hurry it up. If you are in here longer than normal, I need to write a report. And I hate paperwork."
"Oh. I d-didn't know!"
He grabbed her cart and began pushing it toward the door. "Close that door and come along."
She swallowed and rushed into the office, grabbed the computer mouse and clicked the on-screen buttons to start the minute-long shutdown sequence on the machine. She quickly turned and backed through the door, trying to make sure the computer was really going to shut down. It seemed to be. She turned around and bumped into Rolf.
"Ursula, is everything okay with you tonight? You don't seem like yourself."
Her heart started to race again, and she could feel herself trembling. Rolf's eyes looked her over, and then went to the office door behind her. He got a questioning look in his eye, and moved her to the side. His hand went to the knob of the still open door.
"You are right Rolf, I haven't been feeling very well lately. Maybe I've got what Margit has. Not been sleeping well, either."
His hand still on the doorknob, he looked at her with a question in his eyes. She could see the light from the monitor inside the dark office, as the slow computer went through its shutdown sequence. Her mind was racing, and her tension was building to a panic. Oh, God. He is going to see the computer on, and that will be the end of me. She stepped back slightly and her knees felt weak.
"What is the matter Ursula? Are you ill?" Rolf stepped away from the door and went to her. She took another involuntary step back.
"I-I don't feel well, nervous or something, I guess. I think I need to sit-yes, sit down, and some water please?"
He took her hand. "Lord, girl. You are trembling. Come. Sit in my chair. Out there on the landing. Can you make it?"
"I think so." She glanced over her shoulder at the open door, where the computer was still shutting down. She could see the glowing light in the office from the monitor. "Yes. Let me sit in your chair." He led her down the hall to his chair behind the tiny desk. She eased herself into the chair, still trembling slightly, forcing herself to breathe normally.
Rolf looked at her with kindness. "You have been working way too hard. A pretty young lady like you should not have to work so hard. It leads to a shorter life, let me tell you. My brother worked very hard, and he didn't live to see fifty. Simply dropped dead in his shop one day. That's what his widow
told me. Me, I don't plan to have that problem, and so far it's working." He chuckled and then smiled at her. "Can I get you something to drink? Water maybe? I have a little coffee left?"
She looked past him in the hall, trying to see if the glow from the monitor was still dully illuminating the office. "Yes. Water, please."
"Okay, coming right up." He went into the bathroom with an empty coffee mug. "I need to rinse this out…" He disappeared into the bathroom. She could hear the water running. She looked down the hallway and could tell the monitor was still on. The distance was too far for her to get up and close the door before Rolf returned. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Rolf emerged with the mug of water. "Here, drink this."
She took the water from him with both hands and drank greedily, draining the mug. She gave it back to him with both hands, so he would not see her trembling. "Thank you, Rolf."
"You are welcome. Stay here, I will get your cart and close the doors." Ursula watched helplessly as he turned and strode down the hallway to the slightly open office door, looked briefly inside, and closed the door. Ursula gave an inward sigh of relief. The computer had shut off. Rolf then pushed her janitor cart with the trash out of the corridor, and locked the door behind him.
Rolf looked at her with a scornful expression. "Young lady, you are done working for tonight. I'll take the trash and the cart down later. Go home and get some rest. Old Rolf knows the dangers of working too hard. One uncle on my wife's side worked too hard, and he didn't even make it to forty. Of course, Tilly's army burning his village and killing him might have had something to do with it. But still-he worked too hard before that." He looked at her with a concerned expression.
Ursula acknowledged his concern, and managed to return a small friendly smile. "Thank you, Rolf. I think I will go home now."
"Do you need help going down the stairs? Don't worry about signing out, I'll take care of it. I can't leave the floor, but I can call Marcus up here to help."
"No. No. That's not necessary. I can make it down. The water and just sitting for a moment helped. Thanks, Rolf."
"And don't work so hard. When you're well and return, I will tell you about my cousin-"
"-Thank you, Rolf." Ursula turned and eased down the stairs, increasing her speed to a quiet scurry as she distanced herself from Rolf. She felt one of the cables around her waist working loose. She slowed to snug it under her clothes. At the top of the first floor landing, she nearly ran head long into Dennis Grady, while she was tugging at her shirt.
"Easy there, Ursula. It's Ursula, isn't it?"
Ursula's hand went to the top of her blouse and clenched the neck. She looked at the floor. "Y-yes, Mr. Grady." Her other hand went to her lower back, where she could feel the cable coming loose. Part of it was hanging out of the back of her shirt. "I am sorry, sir. I don't feel well tonight, and my partner did not show up for work." At least it was easier to take a deep breath without the tightness of the cables.
"I hate it when that happens. Is old Rolf awake up there? I don't want to scare him too much. I came to get some paperwork out of my office for a meeting tomorrow."
"Rolf, sir, is very conscientious. He doesn't sleep on the job."
"Ursula, look at me please." She slowly looked up to meet his eyes. She thought he must certainly hear her heart beating. His gaze was penetrating, his face was analytical.
"He knows!" her brain shouted. He knows something is wrong. I can't keep looking at those eyes. They have to know. He must know. She dropped her eyes to the floor to escape the scrutiny.
He looked at her in silence a moment longer. "You're right. I don't think you look at all well. Are you done for the night?"
"Yes, Mr. Grady, sir."
"Please call me Dennis."
"Yes, Mr. Dennis, sir."
He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Just Dennis, Ursula. Just Dennis. Okay?"
"Okay. D-Dennis. I'm done mostly for this evening. I didn't do much on the second floor, that's Margit's."
"Then go home. Now." He put his hand to her forehead. "You're warm. And trembling. Get out of here before you infect all of us."
"Yes, sir. I was just going." She backed away from him on the stairs. "Thank you-Dennis." She continued backing away, and he continued to watch her. Still observing, still analytical. She smiled at him a last time as he abruptly broke his gaze. He then turned and trotted up the stairs.
She quickly adjusted the dangling cables under her shirt, and went down the last stairs to where Marcus sat with his logbook. She quickly signed out, noting the time, and left the building by the back door.
She had done it. She was out of the mansion. Free and clear. She felt pride about what she had just done, and at the same time ashamed. I have lied to everyone who has been nice to me since I came here. I have lied to my parents, my friends. She had reached the end of the sidewalk, and started down the street. Tears welled up in her, and she fought to keep the feelings under control. Pride. Grief. Passion. Betrayal. They all started to boil and conflict like a toxic soup, as she increased her distance from the mansion.
"URSULA! STOP! STOP RIGHT THERE! It sounded like Marcus, the downstairs guard. She stopped in mid-stride. She fought with the emotions already there, as they mixed with the overwhelming re-occurrence of fear. She felt physically sick. She swallowed bile in her throat. She slowly turned around and could see Marcus and Dennis Grady walking quickly toward her. She involuntarily reached for her waist, to check the cables wrapped there. She felt one dangling out.
She felt an odd sense of relief sweeping over her, pushing every other emotion aside. I am caught. Finally, it can be over. She strangely welcomed the capture. They trotted up to her, and Marcus grabbed her by the upper arm. She drew away, but could not break away. She pulled her hands to her chest. She was unable to say anything.
"Hold on a moment, Ursula. You're not going anywhere." It was Dennis Grady, and he was-was smiling at her? "You're not going anywhere without this sweater. It's getting cold out here. Feels like fall. Take this, you are sick enough. Okay? It is too big for you I'm sure, it's mine."
Somehow, she wasn't sure how, she managed to say "Thank you, Dennis. This is very nice of you." She choked back a confused half sob. She saw the two men look at her, and then smile a "we-did-the-right-thing" smile at each other. She put the sweater on. It was almost the size of a nightshirt, and hid the dangling cable. She gave them a damp, teary smile. "I must go. Th-thank you."
When she was out of sight of the mansion, and alone on the dark street, she started to sob quietly to herself. To anyone walking by, it sounded like a cry of grief.
***
Ursula walked up to the door of the small house her three foreign friends were renting, and rapped on the door. Pitor, the one from Poland who was her computer "guru" as Ian called him, answered the door. She went into the living room where the curtains were drawn, and went to the table where Ian and Francois were already sitting. Ian's eyes were bright with anticipation. "Did you get them for me, my love?"
"Of course, I did. Did you doubt me?"
Ian turned to Pitor. "How did she do?"
Pitor smiled. "She was amazing. I thought she was going to be captured by the guards, they told her to stop outside the mansion. But she kept her cool, because they just gave her a sweater, didn't they Ursula?" She nodded. "This is a brave woman."
She smiled at Pitor. "Thank you. It was nice to know you were nearby."
"You're welcome. May I have the things? We need to look at them to know if they are valid or not."
"If you don't mind, I will excuse myself and remove all of this hardware." She went down a hallway, and quickly removed the cables, drives and the valuable disks from their hiding places in her clothing. She went next door to the bedroom, where a computer was set up on a desk. Pitor took the items from her, and started to reconnect it to the system.
"You were right, Pitor. The system there was very slow, compared to yours. It almost got me caught upstairs by old Rolf. B
ut the boot disc worked perfectly. You really are amazing, Pitor."
"I have been doing little else than studying the technology for the last six months. It is complex, and I certainly don't know everything about how it works, but I have learned enough to get by."
Pitor was starting his computer, and he eagerly put in the first disc.
Ursula cleared her throat to get their attention. "How is Margit?"
"How is she, Francois?" asked Ian.
Francois looked and smelled like he had been drinking before he arrived. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. "She'll be sleeping this one off for a while yet. We were drinking Haygood Redeye. She matched me shot for shot, until she passed out. Margit could never resist a drinking challenge. But one thing about that kind of alcohol. It can be cut with water, and you never know it." He smiled mischievously. "Mine was watered, hers wasn't. Still, I have a headache. And I'm not looking forward to riding hard in the morning. I will miss the little fireball, even though I never got into her knickers. Damn!"
Ian turned to the other two men. "Gentlemen. I believe we agreed once we had possession of the information, we would never be apart. Not that we are dishonest men, understand, but while we are together it removes any… temptation." He looked at his partners, and they looked back with smiles and nods.
Pitor grinned as his computer started. "It looks like it is here. This is amazing. We are rich! Here is the file, just as promised."
Both of the men stepped forward eagerly. "Open the file. Open it!" They waited as the computer buzzed and the file started to open. It then stopped.
"It requires a password to access the file," groaned Pitor. "This was not supposed to be there."
Ursula cleared her throat at the men. "Ahem." The three turned from the computer screen and looked at her. "Go to the last zip disc. There are a couple of text files I found, with lists of passwords in them. I think they are called 'PSSWRD dot Text.' Not very clever if you ask me." She smiled at Ian. He turned and embraced her.