Authors: L.L. Fine
I got a virus.
Not health virus, not something from the laboratory. I’m
talking about a computer virus, that I can't believe I got. That we got, all the
Institute. We had a system penetration, a batshit-crazy penetration, and we got
it without Vaseline. I got it - I, of all people. I built a system that was
impenetrable – but it wasn’t.
I was fucked in the ass! In the ass!
And they mocked me, and humiliated me. You have no idea how
I felt, how I was boiling. Even now it’s hard to make you see I’m still fuming.
Cold fury! I’ve only killed twice in my life, and when I did, when I dished it
out, people suffered greatly. People died. And I'm not kidding.
And I’m so vengeful. You have no idea, Lir, how vindictive I
am. And how I can strike back. I can go days without sleep and not feel tired.
This virus defiled the whole system. Do you know, Lir, they’d followed us for a
long time. A virus, did I tell you? It reminds me of a fungus that spreads on
the skin and penetrates inside.
So we got a deluxe fungus. The best of the best. From
Satan's dirty feet. And it merged into the system, spun its web in all the
files, in the operating system, the personal computers, all the bots. An
incredible pollution. It took me a while to recognize the extent, more time
writing software pesticides, and start cleaning up the mess. We physically
exchanged almost all our computers, everything else we could, and burned them.
Would you believe it?
We simply burned and crunched them. The infection was so
bad, even a system format didn’t help. So we decided not to take the risk. Like
the plague, we burned and crunched. There was a budget for it, thank God.
After that we had to rebuild all the bots, and replace the
whole system, in short- a nightmare. And all that time I’ve worked on it
because I’ve had to but I’ve been gnawing my nails, my heart red from the
desire to avenge, my ass clenching and burning. The high-ups, they just sit there
and do nothing. I tell you, Lir, I'm going to find the bastard who did it, and
rip off his skin. Literally. I'm going to find him, and burn his system. He
doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He’ll regret the day he was born.
You'll see, Lir. The person responsible for it will die in
agony, after I chop all his systems. I swear. Or my name is not my name.
Now I’m just going to “send”. Here.
Flaming sword: I've set up an email for you.
Looking for a challenge: Hmmm ...is this who I think it is?
Flaming sword: Zomy, yes. You’re getting used to me.
Looking for a challenge: It’s difficult to get used to when
you're like this all the time. Everything all right?
Flaming sword: No, but continue.
Looking for a challenge: Cool nick you chose. In general,
your monikers are becoming quite symbolic.
Flaming sword: You know where it’s from?
Looking for a challenge: A flaming sword flashing back and
forth. I always liked that.
Flaming sword: And you know what that means?
Looking for a challenge: Enlighten me.
Flaming sword: There are several interpretations. The most
common is the interpretation of hell.
Looking for a challenge: This flaming sword is a synonym for
hell?
Flaming sword: Yep.
Flaming sword: A hell could be villains turning like meat on
a spit.
Looking for a challenge: All that for you to gain entrance
to Heaven?
Flaming sword: Which means that in order to enter Heaven you
have to go through hell.
Looking for a challenge: Is it worth it?
Flaming sword: When I get there I'll tell you.
Looking for a challenge: If you reach it.
Flaming sword: I'm sure I'll get to hell, I'm already there
... I wonder if I'll stay here or go on?
Looking for a challenge: Don’t let a little liquid fire stop
you.
Flaming sword: There is another interpretation.
Looking for a challenge: What is it?
Flaming sword: That the heat of the sword is a passion,
something you see - but it’s just an illusion.
Flaming sword: That is, there is no real barrier to the entrance
to Heaven, only the illusion of a flaming sword.
Looking for a challenge: I think it's just a biblical
description of the Jedi knights’ light saber.
Flaming sword: LOL
Flaming sword: May the Swartz be with you.
Looking for a challenge: That's Mel Brooks, isn't it?
Flaming sword: Spaceballs, and I think I’ve made my point.
Looking for a challenge: Indeed. I've realized that I'd
rather be liked by you than upset you.
Flaming sword: to upset is one thing and… you know what is
another thing.
Looking for a challenge: Was it that bad?
Flaming sword: You have no idea. It wasn’t a virus, you
know. It was a successful attempt to infiltrate the system, by some
intelligence agency or something.
Looking for a challenge: What were they able to take from
you?
Flaming sword: It's worse than that - we don’t know.
Flaming sword: It’s clear they’d been in place a long time.
But what were they really able to get out? I want to believe we managed to kill
it straight away.
Looking for a challenge: Want to believe?
Flaming sword: But our preparation for the attack left us
vulnerable as a newborn.
Flaming sword: Completely exposed.
Looking for a challenge: Do you suspect anyone?
Flaming sword: We suspect everyone. Don’t know who…
Looking for a challenge: The Americans?
Flaming sword: I’d be surprised. They have methods and I
follow them all the time and know what they’re developing.
Flaming sword: Not American.
Flaming sword: This technology is something I’ve never seen.
Flaming sword: Pretty ingenious, to tell the truth.
Flaming sword: Very ingenious.
Flaming sword: Perhaps Russian, perhaps Indian. I don’t
know.
Flaming sword: Anyway, it's behind us.
Flaming sword: I took a risk sending you an email.
Looking for a challenge: How can we write to each other
then?
Flaming sword: Oh, you don’t need to put yourself out. Take
a look at your desktop.
Looking for a challenge: ???
Looking for a challenge: ????????????? What's this????
Flaming sword: This algorithm randomly sends an email to the
mail server network. All you need is to write a text document and drag it
there, and it’ll send it somewhere and I will know.
Flaming sword: Now, if someone illegally tries to open the
algorithm it’ll destroy itself, and I warn you, it’ll send electrical pulses to
the screen and disc, so there’s a chance that the screen will explode in their
face and burn out their discs.
Looking for a challenge: You know to keep yourself safe.
What can I say?
Flaming sword: I was burned once.
Looking for a challenge: So, what next? For the book?
Flaming sword: The truth is there's not much to update. I’ve
been busy rebuilding the ruins.
Looking for a challenge: By the way, I realized what
software you use and erased it.
Flaming sword: Yes, I noticed. Don’t worry, I reinstalled
it.
Looking for a challenge: What!?!?!?
Looking for a challenge: I don’t believe it.
Looking for a challenge: I'll erase it again.
Flaming sword: And I'll install it again. Anyway, this is no
longer the only software that works like this, so you may as well leave it
alone.
Looking for a challenge: I despair of you.
Looking for a challenge: How lucky that in 400 years you
won't reproduce anymore.
Flaming sword: You too.
Looking for a challenge: Nor Omri Sharon - this is
definitely an achievement.
Flaming sword: Nothing positive in it.
Looking for a challenge: I'm being sarcastic, leave me
alone, ok?
Flaming sword: There are those who are sarcastic, and those
who try to do something.
Looking for a challenge: Ohhhhhhh…
Looking for a challenge: What do I hear now?
Flaming sword: I'll tell you when I have something to say.
Meanwhile, have a nice day, and enjoy our book content.
Flaming sword: I put in a lot of time on it!
Flaming sword: Bye.
Looking for a challenge: Bye from me.
Looking for a challenge: Good luck!
*
"Don’t do this to me again."
Since the attack on the Institute they couldn't find a
moment to themselves. Zomy's days became a thick swirl of lines of code,
computer monitors, frustration and anger. Lia, for her part, 'won' a forced
vacation, while her tools unavailable to her, along with the practical means to
advance her (official and unofficial) research lines.
During these weeks she tried to appeal to Zomy several
times, but his face was desperate too, his eyes bloodshot with the burden of
long working hours. They saw each other, occasionally, at mealtimes but then it
was with too many people around and too few minutes.
And now, finally, they were alone.
Again, in the grass. Zomy left her message, earlier, about
his desire to breathe fresh air. She thought it was more than just a simple
statement, and initially sought him out in the medical warehouse, among the
oxygen tanks.
The second option was real fresh air - and so she went
upstairs, elegantly rejecting the offer of company from two Institute redneck
assholes. After a short walk in the grass, she found him sitting against a palm
tree, listening to something on his headphones, breathing freely, oxygen mask
dangling from his neck. She touched his face.
"How do you feel?"
"Better. I'm glad you came."
She sat down heavily beside him, sighing.
"Breathing, this is an invitation always I'll gladly
accept. I don't like air conditioners."
"I actually feel like I ran a marathon. But yes, it's
worth it."
"You need to decrease the workload on your lungs. They
won’t recover so quickly. Put your mask on."
"Decreasing the load? Am I?" He tried to laugh,
but it deteriorated to a dry cough. His face went a purplish color, and finally
he returned the mask to his face.
"Zomy ... promise me you won’t do this to me
again."
"What, meet with you here and cough?"
"No. Attempt suicide."
He knew, of course, what she was talking about. They told
him everything. Told what happened in the hours after his assault on the
computer room. They told him that he became almost completely gray, the result of
a severe shortage of oxygen. They told him he almost died - his heart went into
atrial fibrillation, or something similar, then stopped working.
They told him how Lia ran to the computer room, dragging his
oxygen tank. And how she connected him up, and performed CPR on him for several
minutes. And how she did not give up, never stopped for a moment, until he
started to breathe spontaneously.
She was able to stabilize his condition, but feared brain
damage.
Saul Keshny came to visit him later. He expressed his
(reluctant) delight that Zomy was still alive, and rather more hearty joy over
his actions to thwart the break-in.
Surprisingly, Zomy identified with this approach - but was
angry at Keshny who dared to direct a blaming finger at him.
"You didn’t foresee this threat," he snapped,
"and that was precisely your job. You know why - because you're just not
concentrating on work. You've lost it.”
This was an unexpected slap in the face. Insulting and
infuriating.
And he was angry because his performance was - in his
opinion - flawless. And he was offended that Keshny was cold and lacking in
sympathy – not a trace of gratitude or appreciation.
And he was even more angry, because he knew Keshny was
right.
Yes, he was right! Zomy knew he was right. He fell from
being the genius who developed the most amazing computer system ever, to -
'normal'. One person, just one person. Like everyone else. An ordinary man, who
has a tiny affair on the side, who thinks of himself, who is afraid to die. One
person.
Keshny was right, and that was the end of the matter.
But his rightness was so infuriating. Keshny, that cheap
administrative creature, who couldn’t even see as far as his feet. What right
had he to be so - right? Who gave him the authority to criticize?
And his “private” studies were so groundbreaking! On an
entirely different level, higher, more innovative, more daring, from anything
known in his field. He deserved a Nobel Prize! But Keshny, the officious
rule-maker, could not see it. He was not allowed to see it.
He looked again at Lia, trying not to betray his train of
thought.
"I'm not trying to commit suicide on purpose, you know.
It was an accident."
"I’ve already told you, chance has its own rules."
"I live in interesting times."
"Do not swear in Chinese."
They looked at each other - and suddenly burst out laughing.
Releasing, healthy merriment. Their first laugh, for many days. They roared
with laughter, bursting, without even knowing what the joke was. Zomy coughed
and sucked in oxygen and coughed again, which only increased the laughter. And
suddenly the world seemed a little brighter.
"I needed that," he said when they finished.
"Me too."
"So you’ve picked up... continuing the tests?"
"I didn't have so much to do. You know ..."
"Obviously. But in a bit we can go back to
normal."
"Zomy ... it won't be normal anymore."
Her face became pensive, almost sad. He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm pregnant."
Looking for a challenge: Yours??????
Zomy 17: That's what she said.
Looking for a challenge: And ... how do you feel about it?
Zomy 17: It's not that I have much choice, you know.
Looking for a challenge: Well, you know what I mean.
Zomy 17: I think I can accept it. Yes.
Looking for a challenge: Children are ... what can I say?
They’re happiness at levels you can't understand.
Zomy 17: It's not that I had a lot of happiness in life, you
know.
Looking for a challenge: And yet.
Zomy 17: How many children do you have?
Looking for a challenge: One. Charming.
Zomy 17: Planning more?
Looking for a challenge: When it happens it happens. I won’t
say no.
Zomy 17: It complicates things, a pregnancy.
Looking for a challenge: Pregnancy always complicates
matters. But looking back, it makes things sharper, clearer. Forcing decisions,
in my opinion. Whether there should be an abortion, or to leave it as it is.
Decisions that have to be correct.
Zomy 17: But here, at the Institute? With all these people
knowing about it?
Looking for a challenge: If you have a love story, I see no
reason to hide it.
Zomy 17: And what kind of parents will this child have?
Zomy 17: One handicapped former Haredi, and one who is
uncertain about it all. With such unusual work, we’re not parent material.
Looking for a challenge: I wasn’t built to be a father until
I became a father. You’ll be wonderful parents. Am I invited to the
wedding?
*
"And I'm not sure I want to marry at all," she
added.
Zomy was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Pregnancy!
He did not expect it at all. Of all things, he did not foresee this twist in
reality. And it explained everything, then! Pregnancy ... what do we do about
it?
"I agree that a wedding is problematic. My family will
not let a non-Haredi into the family business.”
He tried to keep it light, nonchalant, but his face broke
into thousands of different feelings, some of them contradictory. Children?
Wedding? Him? He did not know what would happen to him tomorrow! Not to mention
his chaotic bachelor apartment, the fact that he actually did not visit it
because he lived at work, the secrecy that destroyed any chance of happiness
worthy of the name, the fact that a soft little baby would be a responsibility
...
Or would it? After all, she could decide to raise him alone,
without the father's participation. Would that be better? No, he decided. It
would be much worse.
"Maybe I'll go it alone as a single mother," she
answered his thoughts, without a trace of a smile.
"Over my dead body," he said. "This is my child
as well."
She just looked at him.
"Oh. You don’t want me in the picture," he said
dryly.
"It's not that," she sighed. "You see, if
there was anyone in the world I’d want in the picture, it's you. But
..."
*
Zomy 17: But how could anyone marry me?
Zomy 17: And don’t forget, this is someone who knows all my
genetic history, my future. It’d be fraught with problems to bring up a child
with me.
Looking for a challenge: But she’s considering it???
Zomy 17: It's a shared problem. Personally, I see little
point in bringing children into the world.
Zomy 17: You probably understand why.
Looking for a challenge: Sure, the reason’s clear.
Looking for a challenge: And that is: that you are an idiot
and a moron and screwed up and stupid. That's why. A piece of crap, you’re
setting yourself up for it, and you were right. You're garbage.
Zomy 17: ???
Looking for a challenge: Stop playing God and live your
life!!!
Zomy 17: What kind of life, when there's no future?
Looking for a challenge: You say that? You?
Zomy 17: Oh, come on. I'm not just a number 17.
Looking for a challenge: And I'm sure I'm the same.
Zomy 17: My son will be 16.
Zomy 17: After him 15.
Zomy 17: Soon it’ll all be over.
Zomy 17: How could I look at him knowing that his life’s all
accounted for?
Looking for a challenge: His life or humanity's?
Zomy 17: Both. It goes together. My cancer will pass to him.
Looking for a challenge: And you solved it for you!!!
Zomy 17: But at what price, goddammit? What price?
Zomy 17: And it’s clear that I won’t infect him with the
fucking virus that destroyed my lungs!
Zomy 17: I'm not going to raise my son to be
sacrificed.
*
"What about an abortion?"
Lia did not answer him. She just took his hand and gently
placed it on her stomach. Zomy felt her gently. She was slightly larger than he
remembered. Only slightly.
"You feel it?" she asked.
He spread his fingers, trying to feel something beyond the
skin soft. Stroked her lower belly, increasing his concentration in his
fingers, trying to feel any trembling of the fetus.
"I think so. At least, I like to think I feel it."
"It’s the size of a small nut just now."
"Cute."
They were silent for another few minutes, listening to the
breeze blow over the grass and the leaves rustling. Zomy stroked Lia's stomach
again and again, and she guided him slowly with her hands.
"What kind of world am I bringing him into, Zomy?"
she asked finally.
*
Looking for a challenge: You can't know!
Zomy 17: But I do know, that's the problem.
Looking for a challenge: No, you don’t know. You can only
guess. It’s true you have a better guess than most people, but you can still
only guess.
Zomy 17: I wish I felt that way.
Looking for a challenge: Listen.
Looking for a challenge: Dear Friend.
Looking for a challenge: You just think too much.
Looking for a challenge: The world’s not there to be thought
about but to be lived.
Zomy 17: Maybe you're right, maybe I think too much.
Zomy 17: But I can’t do anything about being what I am… and
knowing what I know.
Looking for a challenge: Correction: you only think you
know.
Looking for a challenge: Don't dare to presume to be God.
Zomy 17: I don’t think of myself like that. But ... I have
the tools to.
Looking for a challenge: You have to know a little more than
tools. Much more.
Looking for a challenge. But you still don't know it all,
Zomy.
Looking for a challenge: You know that? You don’t know
everything.
*
"You’re clearly bringing him into a shitty world,"
he said firmly.
"Still, I will not have an abortion."