Page 125 of Coldwire
iii) LIA WARD
Chung’s last text exchange with Sullivan asked, “Do you never want to see Eirale’s face again?” Days later, Chung disappeared, and Operation Coldwire began self-destructing across the Medan data centers. What little remnants Chung left behind were stamped with a partial signature. Our system scans have indisputably acquired an owner to the signature: Lia Ward. There is no evidence to say that Sullivan sent Ward to wipe the program and assassinate Chung. There is also no evidence that Ward isuninvolved.
I have to take a breath, physically sick from reading. I don’t dare close the display in case it does something to trigger my access, but I lean my head down, trying to ease the nausea.
They thinkIwent in like some assassin of the night? I’m acadet. I can’t hack myself across servers upcountry. I don’t even leave my housedowncountry. How could I possibly delete a top secret program and then cause a grown man to gomissing? It’s so beyond absurd that I can’t believe someone at NileCorp wrote this brief, that the academy board approved it, that Kieren proceeded to read it and take it seriously.
Then it gets worse.
iv) EIRALE SULLIVAN
To consider all possibilities, it should be noted that at one point in the StrangeLoom database, logged from birth as a method of recordkeeping, Eirale Sullivan was assigned the digital signature that has now been given to Lia Ward.
Our records show Eirale Sullivan as deceased. She passed away before she could receive StrangeLoom credentials.
3. OBJECTIVES:
Primarily, we must understand what role Henry Sullivan plays in Chung Yin’s Operation Coldwire. Our acquisition of Coldwire is paramount, yet just as NileCorp’s ground team were closing in on it, the program—and Chung himself—disappeared. Did Sullivan offer Chung a warning? Is a third party involved? Either prove Henry Sullivan is working as a foreign agent for Medaluo and has contributed to their research, or acquire an explanation otherwise.
To achieve this, your role is to gather any evidence that Lia Ward possesses.She will be detained upon entry back into Atahua.
I can’t keep reading. The briefing goes on to ask further questions, like why Chung needed me and to what extent am I aware of my father’s treason, and I can’t digest a single word more. I’ve surpassed nausea and sunk into numbness.
All this time, Kieren has been spying on me. Even if he didn’t have the full context until this addendum, he must have known enough to recognize which topics to avoid.Earn the secret assignment.What did his father tell him? That I would lead Kieren to something, and he only needed not to tip me off until they told him what he was looking for?
I lurch to my feet, needing to get up, get away. The bus is driving at high speed, so it’s not as though I can leave, but I stagger to the front, standing next to the bot. Twelve is quiet company, its hands planted neatly on the wheel while I heave in, heave out, each breath a rattle. I close out of the file and disconnect from Kieren’s display.
The clock on the dashboard ticks forward another minute. It’s afternoon in Atahua. Dad will be at work. Any communication I make to him will be monitored on his end—and that’s if Kieren isn’t already somehow eavesdropping on my every word here.
“Any chance you could stop for gas soon so that we can stretch our legs?” I ask Twelve.
It doesn’t say anything in response. The light on its chest flickers once, and I have to take that as enough of an answer.
“Thank you,” I say. I stay at the front.
It turns out Twelve did receive my instruction.
After a while, the dreary surroundings put me in a near-hypnotic state, and I only break from my reverie when the tour bus activates its turn signal, a loudclick-clack-clicksounding from the dashboard. The flat road offers a small approaching oasis in the form of a gas station, a structure that resembles a bus stop on first glance. Its signs readFUEL, but I can’t figure out what the strange objects protruding from the overhead shelter are until the tour bus stops and I follow the tubes running down the inner wall. Ah. They’re nozzles—on the ceiling.
Twelve silently cuts the engine. In the abrupt stillness, the others stirbehind me, woken by the change in environment. Blearily, Rayna asks, “Where are we?” and I watch one of the nozzles start to lower from the overhead line, automatically syncing with the fuel opening on the side of the bus.
“Refueling,” I say shortly. “I’ll go check on it. You all stay here.”
As soon as I step out, I close the doors after myself by force, waiting until I hear the mechanism lock. The rain is coming harder than I thought, getting into my eyes. I barely pay it any heed, trudging to the other side of the bus. Here, at least, the overhead shelter provides some respite from the downpour.
I open my display. Unless Dad is having a late night, he ought to be at the Melnova apartment now, bringing his work back. He isn’t fully off until he goes to sleep, but he’ll be in his home office instead.
I don’t dial him. Nor the house line. I skip right to Tamera.
“Didn’t think I’d be hearing from you so soon,” she answers cheerily. Water is running in the background. She’s in the kitchen. “You’re finishing up your posting?”
“Not quite,” I say. I keep my voice hushed. “Is Dad home?”
Tamera takes a beat. She’s spent enough time with me growing up that she knows when I’m lying and when I’m saying that I had a good day to indicate I actually had a horrible day.
“Sure, he’s here. He just got in.”
NileCorp is monitoring his communications actively, but maybe they’re on a delay with me. They’ve got Kieren here in the field already. I have to hope that means there’s no soldier with a headset listening to every call I make.
