“Excuse me? I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” But his eyes said otherwise.
Jo put her palm on the door, stopping him from closing it. They had never finished the wish. Which meant it would still be outstanding. At least, she speculated that’s what it would mean. She looked him dead in the eyes and spoke.
“I know that inside your house you have a terminal, first floor, down the hall to the left.”
His eyes widened. It was a good start. “I don’t know what kind of stalker you are but—”
“I know about Primus Sanguis.”
Charlie froze. In a blink, he turned from concerned homeowner to deadly android who would murder for his secrets.
“I know what you do with bones.”
“What do you want?” he whispered.
“Do you really want to have this conversation here?” Jo motioned to the front porch. “Let me inside.”
He debated this for a long moment, eyes darting about.
“Do I really look like someone who’d be associating with the cops?” Jo motioned to her strange garb, “I’m here alone.”
“Come in, then.” He stepped aside.
“Thank you, Charlie.” Jo used his name for emphasis, and to underscore her certainty that they’d met before.
He closed the door behind her, locked it, and folded his arms. “You’re welcome, Josephina.”
Jo stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turned her attention to Charlie. He had yet to move, even though she’d taken five bold steps into his home.
“You do remember,” she whispered.
“Not quite.” He finally stepped forward, brushing past her as he walked toward the back hall. “Come, it’ll be easier to show you.”
She followed behind him, into the back hall, down to the end, and back into a familiar server room. By her count, it had only been two days since she’d last stood in the same spot with Takako. Jo couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d been for Charlie.
“Close the door behind you, so you don’t let out the chill.”
What a blissful chill it was. Jo felt every sensation of cold prickling her skin, puckering it into goosebumps. She happily obliged him, shutting them into the dimly lit room. It felt like a safe haven, the hum of computers like a familiar blanket. Even though Jo had every right to be off-kilter, afraid, and keenly aware of the fact that she was in a small room with a serial killer—she didn’t feel the least bit scared.
If anything, Jo felt oddly jubilant. Though she worked to curb the emotion. There were still too many important things yet to confirm.
Charlie sat down at his terminal, not hesitating to lift his shirt and plug himself in. Jo didn’t even bat an eye at the sight. At least they weren’t going to waste time playing dumb with each other.
“Look, here,” he pointed to the screen.
Jo walked over to the file he’d opened. It was a long string of code—server data. Something had been stored, tagged, yet. . .
“It’s corrupted.”
“Not corrupted.” Charlie shook his head. “Fragmented.”
“How do you mean?”
“Ever since I was born—” Jo couldn’t help but note the fact that he specifiedborn, and notmade. “I have possessed this data. It is on a file, hard-coded into me, that no one else seemed to be able to see—not even my core programmers.”
Jo looked back at the data, but her ability to make sense of any language seemed to have left with the Society. That, or it was far too broken for even the demigod of destruction to decipher.
“What is it?” she finally asked.
