Authors: L.L. Fine
"What's their thing, what do they want from us?"
"I don’t think they know exactly," replied Zomy
after a few seconds of thought. "They’re just looking, trying to see what
we are doing."
"Let them look. They'll never find anything."
Zomy smiled for a split second.
"What were you thinking there, eh? Behind your oxygen
tubes?"
"Whatever."
"Say it."
"Forget it, it's just nonsense."
"Speak or I'll shoot!"
"I thought to myself," Zomy began slowly,
breathing deeply, "if they find a reason, they'll stop looking for
it."
"So?" asked Lia, and immediately understood.
"So."
"I told you, this is just nonsense. I…"
But her lips blocked any ability he had to speak, and her
tongue, hot and demanding, quieted him for the rest of the night.
*
Looking for a challenge: An actual James Bond, you are.
Stronger than you: Do I hear contempt?
Looking for a challenge: No ... but it sounds so much like
cheap detective films ... Come on. Car chase in Ayalon, GSS agents you get rid
of too easily, it’s a bit much, isn’t it?
Stronger than you: You upset me.
Looking for a challenge: Now what did I say? You asked me to
be true? So I'm true. I drink your stuff like a good wine, but sometimes it's a
bit overdone. Really.
Stronger than you: Well, that's how it was, all right?
Stronger than you: And perhaps I only imagined the GSS
agent, but we were followed, I’m certain. I saw the order, and you can’t deny
that!
Looking for a challenge: Not trying to take anything from
you…
Stronger than you: You do! Challenge my credibility!
Looking for a challenge: No, no ... I didn’t explain myself
well.
Looking for a challenge: You know what? You’re right.
Looking for a challenge: And I apologize.
Looking for a challenge: Are you there?
Looking for a challenge: ?
Stronger than you: OK, leave it.
Looking for a challenge: I mean it. I won’t doubt you in the
future.
Stronger than you: Leave it. I really understand how it can
sound to someone who isn't where I'm standing, seeing what I see.
Looking for a challenge: Because of this you want me to
write from an imaginary standpoint?
Stronger than you: Yes, this is one reason
Looking for a challenge: So to put the piece with the chase
in Ayalon in the book?
Stronger than you: Yes!
Stronger than you: You know what…? No. You’re right.
Looking for a challenge: ?
Stronger than you: It's really just a bit of James Bond.
People will see it’s not factual.
Looking for a challenge: Look, all that happened is you were
followed by a car. They do it all the time in the police.
Stronger than you: Forget it, you're right. It seems
incredible.
Looking for a challenge: But if it happened, it happened.
Yes?
Stronger than you: No, no. Leave it. Don’t put this piece in
the book.
Looking for a challenge: Are you sure?
Stronger than you: Yes, I'm sure.
Looking for a challenge: ‘K.
Looking for a challenge: OK
Stronger than you: Thank you. We'll talk.
Looking for a challenge: Bye -
Dear Liron,
I’m laughing, it’s so funny, but my James Bond thing worked!
This morning I got their detailed report on Lia and me, and
it was very funny. By the way, they didn’t mention the car chase in Ayalon, so
apparently it really was my imagination. But they also kept watch on my house
and Lia’s, and they saw us kissing and that. The bastards even made a movie of
it, from the neighbor’s window.
My office and my house and my car didn’t give them anything
– and they don’t understand how all transcripts have been deleted. Ha ha ha!
Tell ‘em who to mess with next time!
I just wanted you to know,
My God
La la la
Etc.
Keshny was not pleased with the report.
To say the least.
This report did not cause his abdominal pain to pass.
Absolutely not. On the contrary, it aggravated the burning sensation, just made
it even worse. The entire story was too easy, too simple. The clowns just fell
in love, clear and simple? And, right, he could see his Computerman falling for
the beautiful scientist, people speculated about her in the cafeteria all the
time. But she? For him?
In his very, very realistic eyes, such an equation didn’t
equate. Lia was, by all definitions of masculinity, a beautiful cold glacier.
From all perspectives. From her green eyes, real emeralds, to her rather
slender ankles, which were usually her only exposed body part.
But those tight pants, the effortless way the lab coat hung
on her, the highlighted, soft bumps of her chest, everything radiated heat.
Warmth, softness, and invitation. Of course her voice, thin, metallic, and
obviously unsexy accent, was quite the opposite. To the point - cold. A voice
like that cannot come forth from someone who can fall in love.
And certainly not Zomy, God forbid.
Yet, he argued with burning in the stomach, the pictures do
not lie. Black and white, with an oxygen tank at his side, Zomy was filmed with
her in a way too many men wanted to be. Keshny looked at the pictures again and
again, hard to believe, hard to stop. He erased from his heart other thoughts
that threatened to float in. No, he repeated to himself, my judgement here will
be professional and professional only.
And as a professional, he faced the most obvious reason for
their unplanned (oh, come on!) meeting in New York. And maybe it really was an
unrecognized acute inflammation that consumed almost all of the Computerman's
lungs, and not a virus filched from the lab where he went every day for years
...
Who was he kidding, shouted the burning stomach. Ockham's
razor, my friend. Ockham's razor. If there is an obvious explanation for a
certain problem - Ockham's razor suggests that this is also a true and correct
explanation for it. So, what's simpler than that? And Zomy worked in close
proximity to the most deadly viruses in the world. Zomy infected with an
unknown deadly virus. One plus one, that's two.
How likely it was really was an accident? Zero!
Keshny knew he was right. Things happened, things happened.
But at least he now had a reason to be calm. They happened
for a reasonable and logical, humane, sharp as a razor reason. Zomy had been
infected just as people used to be infected with viruses, certainly in recent
years. In the most pleasant way there is.
And again the ulcer flashed. And without thinking Keshny
tried to bring up his computer lie-detector results of that conversation... but
a split second later, he recalled, with a bitter smile, there were no such
results. He had deleted them, the test, and all its backups.
He tried to remember the results. But could not. But yes, he
was almost sure they had lied to him about what happened between them in New
York. Guessed that was it. They lay together there for the first time, and
that's the whole story. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with a girl, they
sleep together and he almost dies.
But, why the hell in New York?
The abdominal pain hurt him again. Warned him again. But
Keshny did not trust it anymore. Did not want to trust it. New York was a
mystery. So what? They met in New York, probably for the same reason that no
one at the facility knew there was an affair between Computerman and Lia.
It was so simple in the end. Lia was probably ashamed of it,
or something. One could understand it. After all, Computerman was not the type
girls loved to love, Keshny concluded. Or - it could also be, certainly could
be - they just wanted to maintain a healthy discretion. Maintain a normal
working relationship within the closed space of this institute, typecast in the
crowd, full of great diversity.
Yes.
He began to lock the investigation case in the drawer, using
a physical key, a large, old and safe one. Yes, yes, yes. This is probably the
reason for all the fuss. Hidden are the ways of the heart, he thought again.
Let them love one another, the children, why not? But they should use
contraception. So Zomy wouldn’t get another unknown virus.
He would have to mention it to Computerman at the earliest
opportunity. Also show him that he knew everything, and that now was not the
right time for him to die.
With the easy blink of an eye he moved on to the next
problem - to report the failure of the experiment, which had flagged up a big
warning sign. Something wrong had been entered in and Keshny needed the Computerman
on top form. Do not die now, please, Mr. Zomy. It would be very inconvenient.
And it's about time he went to the doctor about this ulcer.
How much can a person tolerate?
Dana banana: Welcome.
Looking for a challenge: Welcome. How are you?
Dana Banana: Still breathing. Barely, but breathing.
Looking for a challenge: That bad?
Dana Banana: Actually, there is no change. What functions
functions, what’s not functioning – isn't.
Looking for a challenge: The main thing is Lia isn't
complaining.
Dana Banana: Oh, you meant ... no ... we're not really
together since…
Looking for a challenge: :-(
Dana Banana: Don’t be so sad. It isn't like we broke up or
anything. It's simply ... these one-night-stands, you know?
Looking for a challenge: I know, I know.
Looking for a challenge: That’s too bad, it actually sounded
like you had something going there.
Dana banana: Maybe. I don’t know. Suddenly it all went
wrong.
Looking for a challenge: How?
Dana Banana: Don’t know. It’s as if we now have something a
little disturbing.
Looking for a challenge: Have you tried talking to her?
Dana Banana: It's not so simple. I'm busy at work, I have no
time for anything.
Looking for a challenge: You have to talk to her. Something
grew between you, I know it.
Dana Banana: And how do you know so much? Do you follow me?
LOL!
Looking for a challenge: I follow what you write to me.
That's enough.
Dana Banana: You’re a mate. Thanks.
Looking for a challenge: My pleasure.
Dana Banana: I'm glad I chose you.
Looking for a challenge: Mutual joy. Do you have anything
new for me?
Dana Banana: Nothing really. We have problems with Omri 19.
Looking for a challenge: Omri what?
Dana Banana: Omri 19. The current run of the genome we're working
on. Something flipped the computer simulation.
Looking for a challenge: Well, you’ll probably fix it in a
second.
Dana Banana: I haven't slept for 3 days straight because of
it.
Looking for a challenge: Give your computer a kick, it’ll
work.
Dana Banana: There are several millions of computers working
on it.
Looking for a challenge: Lots of kicking!
Dana banana: Exactly.
Looking for a challenge: So what's wrong?
Dana Banana: It works great, but doesn’t continue beyond the
second stage of meiosis.
Looking for a challenge: Stage of what?
Dana Banana: Cell division. After all, we’re doing a
genosimulation of Omri.
Looking for a challenge: Omri? What’s Omri?
Dana Banana: One guess.
Looking for a challenge: Come on…
Dana Banana: Seriously. You can do it.
Looking for a challenge: What would I know about Omri?
Dana Banana: Remember I told you the DNA given to us, they
said it was a dead prisoner's? But actually it's someone else's completely?
Looking for a challenge: ?
Looking for a challenge: Wait.
Looking for a challenge: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait.
Looking for a challenge: Go fuck yourself.
Looking for a challenge: Omri Sharon?!?!!? Son of….?!?!!?
Dana Banana: Exactly!
Looking for a challenge: LOL!
Dana Banana: Yeah, that makes me laugh, too.
Looking for a challenge: I can't believe it!
Looking for a challenge: So Omri Sharon is screwing up your
computer?
Dana Banana: Indeed.
Dana Banana: Omri 19, actually.
Looking for a challenge: Ask his dad for a bigger budget.
Dana Banana: Don’t worry, it’s in hand. But it doesn’t
matter.
Dana Banana: So it seems.
Looking for a challenge: What's the matter with it then?
Dana Banana: Everything runs fine, as usual. But there’s
simply no cell division.
Dana Banana: Something went nuts there, I tell you.
Looking for a challenge: Perhaps try his second son? What's
his name?
Dana Banana: Gilad
Looking for a challenge: Yes (probably).
Dana Banana: So Gilad’s works without problems.
Looking for a challenge: LOLOLOLOL!
Looking for a challenge: Have you really tried this?
Dana Banana: Lia's idea. Gilad went at least until the
one-year-old stage, even Gilad 2.
Looking for a challenge: At the moment, these numbers are
for a number of runs?
Dana Banana: Yes. Omri 19. This time - the 19th - we ran
genosimulation on the DNA of Omri.
Looking for a challenge: And the rest of the time it was OK?
Dana Banana: Yes. Again, there should be no problem. As I've
said, I just don’t get it.
Looking for a challenge: So just Omri is the problem, eh?
Dana Banana: Go figure…
Looking for a challenge: I'd rather you go figure.
Dana Banana: Tricky, this story. Finding out what's not
there.
Looking for a challenge: So what’re you doing chatting with
me now?
Dana Banana: Letting off some steam. Hitting on some girls.
Looking for a challenge: I look like a girl to you?
Looking for a challenge: Don’t answer that!
Dana Banana: Yes…
Dana banana: LOL!
Looking for a challenge: So you’re looking for girls, eh?
Dana banana: Just joking, I don't hit on anyone. I’ve told
you I don’t have time for that, I don't have the heart for it.
Looking for a challenge: Still Lia?
Dana Banana: I'm sorry to say.
Looking for a challenge: I’m sorry. Since then you haven’t
...?
Dana Banana: Nothing. We barely speak.
Looking for a challenge: Again, sounds strange to me. You
had a good thing together.
Dana Banana: Had.
Looking for a challenge: I don't buy it. Things don’t end
like that. Have you tried talking to her?
Dana Banana: Yes ... kind of.
Looking for a challenge: Kind of? You mean that letter you
sent me?
Looking for a challenge: It was beautiful.
Dana Banana: God forbid. It was only for you, I wouldn’t
dare send her such things.
Looking for a challenge: Too bad, it was lovely. Song-y.
Dana Banana: I tried an approach, but she kept it
businesslike. Distant.
Looking for a challenge: What did you try?
Dana Banana: Talking - I sent her an email.
Looking for a challenge: That's it? Did you try to send her
flowers?
Dana Banana: At work???
Looking for a challenge: To her home.
Dana banana: That’d work?
Looking for a challenge: Boy, you idiot!
Dana Banana: Answer.
Looking for a challenge: Look, no promises. But it should
work.
Dana Banana: You don’t know her, she's an iceberg …
Looking for a challenge: Not from what you told me!
Dana Banana: So - flowers? This is the whole story?
Looking for a challenge: Let's put it this way: what do you
have to lose?
Dana Banana: 50 Shekels
Looking for a challenge: Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dana Banana:?
Looking for a challenge: I’m not talking about flowers you
send for your mother for shabbat. I'm talking flowers. A real bouquet that will
make an impression.
Dana Banana: I don’t understand.
Looking for a challenge: 300 Shekels minimum.
Dana Banana: That's what a girl's heart’s worth today? Too
cheap.
Looking for a challenge: Don’t piss me about. It's not the
money, it's about the effort.
Dana Banana: Just a phone call to a flower shop?
Looking for a challenge: Now you're thinking like a man.
Practical.
Dana Banana: Is that good or bad?
Looking for a challenge: What do you care, so long as it
works on girls?
Dana Banana: You're the expert.
Looking for a challenge: Answer: Yes. Pick…up…the…phone.
Looking for a challenge: What do you have to lose?
*
In the enchanted paradise, time was running on.
Many months had passed for the old spider. Months in Eden
time, of course. On a human scale it was only a few tenths of a second, but for
the spider, the last structure he infiltrated was already cataloged. A real
historical event had passed.
Again and again, with endless devotion, he scanned the
limits of his assigned territory. Stalk after stalk, root after root, he
climbed them all, checked changes, registered, cataloged. He had long since
ceased to hope for great discoveries. This was a particularly neglected piece
of the garden, undeveloped, far from the spotlight – including far, hidden
swamps. Just space, arms of weeds and sparse traffic.
But someone had to check the area there. And it was his job,
boring as it may be.
In a way only spiders of his kind could understand, he was
lost in memories. Longing for his glory days, when he occupied this area for
the first time. Days more pristine, more innocent. Days in which he was
considered the peak of technology, the last word. Between peering into flowers
and climbing over a fallen twig, he found time to reminisce over beautiful
memories from the protocol.
In a virtual spider smile, he remembered the soldier ants
overrunning the same side chain, the castles secretly infiltrated by them.
Those were dangerous times in his world. But now the perfected walls had
multiplied protection. New protocols, modern infiltrators like him, ambushed
them. Only once, for a hundredth of a second, he had to play dead, when a storm
of rampant worms filled all the garden paths.
Once, used them in his favor, and even offset some. Today he
preferred to wait, to wait until the ground stopped shaking. He did not want to
become a target. He was quite ashamed, really.
But he had no choice but to accept his fate. And he fell,
from being the finest creation, to being a scout soldier, scanning IP addresses
of the lowest order. Everything important, big, was too much for him. And
everything that was still within his capabilities, was unimportant.
And suddenly, a surprise.
A single castle, beautiful, grew just beyond the mound.
An unprotected castle. Newly built and uninhabited.
Could it be?
He circled it from all sides, suddenly suspicious. Examined
the height of the walls in front of him, checked the doors, automatically
marking where the standard-looking guard wasps set up ambushes. Yes, it was
definitely a task for a spider like him, and he could chalk up several dozen
imprisoned ants to the task force, to his credit.
Yes, there was some use for him after all, and that tiny
intelligence rejoiced in it.
With measured steps, cautiously, he approached the walls.
Stalk after stalk, grain after grain. He had time. The secret about a
successful sneak-in was doing it very slowly - or very, very fast. And each
pace was fit for a different situation.
He progressed. Slowly, then rushed. With eight eyes, and
built-in caution, he stepped from shadow to shadow, hiding among the angles
that existed in the structure which he was to penetrate. A few steps up - and a
hop - the window he hoped would be there was open. Barred, true, but what bars
are for a spider?
With a light jump he entered the new complex. Looked around.
Nothing surprising, just a few ants in a circle, carrying packets up and down
the various steps. Also the source, the well from which they drank
occasionally, was visible in the center of the courtyard. He identified such
structures very well. They were old as he was - in fact, he was designed to
penetrate exactly this kind of fortification.
Again he wondered. The structure, gleaming so modern and
shiny from outside, did not match the interior domain. Funny. The vast steps
were full of strange different buildings, combinations of old and new, genius
and childish. Often (although not recently) he had met ant colonies, hundreds
of thousands of ants, without even a proper protective virus. And sometimes
impenetrable bunkers did not yield any valuable treasure.
All right. Modern spiders will face up to modern buildings,
and he, in turn, would deal with the old buildings. Sure-footed but still
cautious, he made his way to the central courtyard, planning to implant a
capsule of irresistible beery nectar, disguising well-wrapped silk, to clasp
each ant as it came to drink from the well. Within a short time, he knew it
would catch them all with its flexible webs.
No one bothered him. In fact, his registered what he
identified as either a temporary, small failure in the maintenance, or a large
systematic failure in the design. The building was just wide open. Even the
ants who inhabited the yard weren’t much in evidence.
To the spider that did not matter. He carefully crawled
forward, preparing to plant the capsule fast and retreat quickly. Just a little
further, and he was there. Last look around, alertness at its peak, the
preparation of the self-destruction - everything by the book - and the capsule
sank in the central water reservoir structure.
The spider retreated quickly, satisfied by the successful
execution of the task. He could not feel, no matter how alert he was, the tiny
spore, from somewhere near the pool, now clinging to the edge of his foot.