“But then who’s gonna drive your bloody arse home?”Mac quips, trying to imitate my accent.“Hey Wes, think Nicole’s got a Band-Aid big enough?”
“Dunno. But she’s certainly the only one of us willing to kiss it better.”
“ThenIwill jump out,”Dimitri continues, dramatic with his threats in a way I don't think he fully appreciates.
“Tuck and roll,” I reply breezily.
“Yeah, and it’s afull moontonight, so at least you’ll be able to see to make your way back.”
“Mudak!” Dimitri hisses.
With a chuckle, I long-tap my earpieces to block out their bickering while I get to work. I plug in Alfano’s laptop, then fire it up and groan at the dreaded update screen. Brilliant. This is going to take ages.
But at least I’ve got a distraction.
A notification dings, and the corner of my screen blinks, flashing green and blue from her custom avatar in the IRC—internet relay chat—I set up for my spiders. She’s one of them, but she’s so much more than that, too.
My spiders fall into two broad categories—people who do things for me, and informants.
The task monkeys get the chores that I could do, or could create a program to do for me, but it’s easier if I pay them for their time. They review security footage when I’m up against a time crunch, manually sort through unsearchable data, or create databases from stolen records acquired elsewhere.
My informants range from enthusiastic amateur sleuths to professionals dealing in secrets that I can buy for the right price. Some of them are one-offs, when the right person was in the right place at the right time and learned something useful. Some of them have a passing interest in true crime, some fancy themselves detectives, and some have the right connections.
Sheis in a class of her own. I can only daydream about what I could do if I had a team of people like mermaidav at my disposal. We’d rule the world.
I know all my spiders by username, bank account info, who vouched for them, and not much else. Of course, I always perform an initial test to ensure a potential informant isn’t law enforcement, but otherwise I make it a point to encourage anonymity. A business that deals in secrets wouldn’t thrive if I didn’t let my informants have their own. I don’t ask personal questions; I don’t entertain any. But after almost two years of intriguing exchanges, I have to admit that I’ve done a bit (alot) of extracurricular digging on my favorite spider. Fat lot of good it did me.
In the past, it’s taken me as long as a few hours to get someone’s social security number and online passwords with nothing more than an IP address to start. But not mermaidav. Her IP is blocked, which isn’t normally a problem, but I couldn’t get around it—so whatever she’s using is as impressive as it is illegal. Perhaps even homemade.
And damn if all that futile digging didn’t just make me admire her even more. I love a challenge.
All I have to go on is that she is a woman, likely in her mid-to-late 20s based on the slang she uses, and is awake during hours that indicate we’re in roughly the same time zone. And that she can get pretty much whatever I want. It’s honestly mystifying. She’s either the best hacker I’ve never heard of, or she knows people on the inside.
As I pull up her chat window, I check the time and swallow down the urge to admonish her for her ridiculous sleep schedule. It’s 2 AM, which means she’s probably messaging me from bed. A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth.
SpyderMan: Can’t sleep?
mermaidav: You know me. I finished the short story collection you sent, too, so I’m fresh out of reading material that’ll put me to sleep.
I grin.
SpyderMan: Isaac Asimov isn’t for you, I take it.
mermaidav: I’m still not sure how the least boring person I know has the most boring taste in books.
SpyderMan: You say boring; I’d call it classic. Refined, even.
mermaidav: lol of course you would. Either way, the book is dry as hell.
SpyderMan: Well, it is hard sci-fi. Story-forward, character development takes a back seat…
mermaidav: That and a distinct lack of wieners. To its detriment, I’d argue.
That drags a laugh from deep in my chest, and I send her an amused reaction in the chat.
mermaidav: Nothing against sci-fi, but I prefer it in my books when the world’s ending, or the aliens are invading, or the machines are rising up… and someone’s getting railed. Preferably by the aliens or machines.
SpyderMan: Oh, I’m aware. Your picks for our little book club are always very… educational.
