Nightlife: Hacker

         He slammed his fist onto the desk, "I am sick and fucking tired of this!" the glass top cracked, but the orvaflies within fluttered to it and the crack instantly repaired. "What part of 'watch all outgoing orders and incoming deposits' don't you get?"

         "Sir" the little bald man behind the desk stuttered, "This was unintentional. Ebon, we couldn't track it."

         "Couldn't track it?" Ebon scoffed, "How can you not track five hundred thousand credits and seven acolytes being withdrawn and shipped to Taerthin?" reaching into his pocket, Ebon pulled out a palm sized CD-RW. "Put the system base and all of our files on identical CDs. I want them labeled and hand delivered to me. I think you can manage that?"

         "Yes sir."

         "Good. I want to see it by tomorrow afternoon. If I don't, I'm coming back to see what the delay is." Ebon turned on his heel and left the room, forcing the doors open by will of mind. His personal acolyte, Fallen, joined him as he walked. She kept perfect stride with him as always, as she was programmed to do. "Fallen, when we get back I want a full base scan of the company files. We have a leak; one I plan to plug."

         "Yes, Ebon." Fallen, being an acolyte, was a robot in all senses, but looked as human as any of the ones still walking the streets. Aearth, the new center of all technology was populated by three major 'species'. Telepaths, like Ebon, acolytes, like Fallen, and Psyvers, or psychic vampires. Taerthin, on the other hand, was the only great city left with humans holding all high positions. The majorities of Aearth were the minorities of Taerthin.

         Stepping out onto a floating platform, Ebon visualized an identical platform near to his home. Feeling the distinct tingling of telepathic transportation on the forward most lobe of his brain, Ebon snapped his eyes open. He stood, along with fallen, on a familiar road about a mile west of his home; one of the last buildings still on the ground.

         "Welcome back, Master Ebon!" A cheery dispositioned human woman greeted. She was Ebon's personal slave. If you were human and lived in Aearth, you were most likely a slave.

         Ebon nodded, "Sol, is Laelin still about?"

Sol nodded, her chocolate colored curls bouncing around her ears, "Yes. She was finishing her tasks before I left. She should be well rested by now."

         Ebon rubbed his temples, "Good, my day has been stressful." Sol opened the door to the aerocraft and smiled as she shut the door. Climbing into the driver's seat, she started off towards Citadel Venompeak.

.::.::.::.

         Ebon sat on the side of the bed, casting a glance over his shoulder. Laelin still lay sprawled on the bed, sweat glistening in the moonlight on her taut muscled body. Her arms were pulled up above her head, bound to the bed posts by thick manacles.

         "I will have Sol up with the keys in due time." Ebon stood and pulled on a silken black robe and walked down the stairs into the living room, which had been an audience chamber in times long past. It was cool, the air chilled, just as he liked and as he walked Ebon closed his eyes, each candle that he passed lit up. Ebon sat on a plush couch and turned on the quadvis; a cube that each of the four faces could be turned to a different channel or used as volume optimizers.

         And in tonight's news... the Ashen Skull clan of Psyvers has once again challenged the Wilthain family, who holds joint ownership of Bio Corp. with Ashen Skull, to a battle over custody. This challenge will be the last, says Ashen Skull Patron, Rudian Ashen Skull. The Ashen Skull clan has threatened to assassinate Lady Olvatarm of Wilthain. In other news-

         Ebon snapped off the quadvis, he was tired of hearing about all the rivalries. All he was concerned about was when someone tried to take his company, Finalsight, with his consent or not. Actually, it occurred to him, it seemed that someone was trying to do just that.

.::.::.::.

         Fallen came in sometime later while Ebon dozed on the couch. She heeded every word, but had no real decision making capability, so she woke Ebon up. "Ebon, the scan is complete."

         Ebon growled and stirred, "What?"

         "Base system file scan complete. Unknown IP 143.67.990.33 scanned, tracked, and quarantined. IP profile: Kaeilin Wlori, 18. Current residency: We -"

         Ebon held out his hands and patted the air, "Wait! Wait, slow down! Can't I get a print out of all this?"

         "Yes, Ebon." Fallen walked to a thin black box and stuck her pointer finger into it. There was a low whirring sound and a paper slid out, resting in the tray below.

         A picture of a perfectly geeky boy was in the top left corner of the page. "Kaeilin Wlori, eh?" he read over the entire page several times. "Fallen, do a background check on this boy, if he's a good enough hacker to get into Finalsight, this isn't what he is."

         Fallen nodded and walked away, "Ebon, what format?"

         "If you get anything uncovered, put it on a data prose file and send it to my office."

         "Yes, Ebon."

.::.::.::.

         Sorting through the various files on his office mainframe, Ebon cursed. Yet another forty thousand credits were missing and a few more acolytes; same IP address. He quickly dialed up the bald man he had yelled at the previous night, "Balor, yeah, I'm calling about the files. I know I gave you till this afternoon, but I want them yesterday. Don't panic, we've got a leak and whoever this hacker is has a firm foothold in the hole." He pressed another button and dialed Fallen's com system, "In three hours I want you to download all files left behind and wipe the system."

         "Wipe the system?" Ebon could hear the low whir of mechanics under her voice, "Why?"

         Ebon sighed, "Don't make me explain, just do it."

         "Yes, Ebon."

         The mainframe went black and a little pop up sprang onto the screen, "What the hell?" the pop up had a little yellow smiley face on it and a message that read: having fun? I know I am. You have quite the rich system, but lots of loop holes. I've seen your acolyte prodding into my system, but she's awfully weak.

         Ebon pressed the escape key, but another pop up showed up. Oh, yeah, kudos on the new acolyte base. I'm quite fond of Finalsight's ingenuity. Impressive indeed.

         "Quite fond? Who is this bastard?" He called up Fallen, "Shut down the system, now!"

         "But, you said -"

         "Just shut it off!"

         "Yes, Ebon."

.::.::.::.

         In the basement of a burned out warehouse on the other side of Taerthin, a boy sat hunched before a computer monitor. His long, unkempt, black hair hung in oily strands about his face and a sly grin curled his lips. "Good," he whispered, "Exactly what I wanted him to do."

         An acolyte, shrouded in darkness, its eyes dimly illuminated, turned to face the boy. "What did you want him to do?"

         The boy sighed, these Finalsight acolytes were smart; maybe too smart. "Shut down his system."

         The acolyte, shaped as a curvatious redhead, leaned over the desk. "You received me from him, no? Why then do you want to harm him?"

         "I don't want to harm him, I want him to notice me." he tapped a few keys.

         "Torlalaine!" another of the thirteen stolen acolytes called. This one was a mousey, but attractive, brunette. "Torlalaine, he is sending!"

         "It's Tor, remember? Don't use Torlalaine anymore."

         "Yes, Torlalaine."

         Tor grimaced. The Finalsight models were good, but not great. He smiled and closed his eyes as the tingling of a telepathic sending filled the back of his brain, So, you're the one who has been fucking with my systems, The sending had the distinct feel of malice and despair that flowed behind all of Ebon's telepathic works. What the hell do you want?

         Tor wasn't adept at telepathic, in fact, he was probably in the atrocious range, he estimated. He was only human, after all. Concentrating until his temples ached, Tor sent a broken and fuzzy reply, Take...recruit...I wish...help.

         The confusion in Ebon's reply was almost palpable, What? You screw over my company, steal commodities and money, and expect me to hire you onto the crew?

         Tor laughed aloud, Yes.

         You'll stay my enemy if I don't, I presume.

         Of course. Just to prove his point he tapped a few more keys and deducted another ten thousand credits.

         Ebon's mental growl rattled through Tor's mind, Fine, Fallen will be there for you in an hour.

.::.::.::.

         Several hours later Tor sat in front of a new mainframe. This one had the gear-and-eye of the Finalsight company on the desktop. Tor was typing away, moving all of his files from his older computer and putting all the stolen money back. He hadn't intended to spend it unless Ebon refused his offer.

         The acolyte Fallen hovered behind Tor, literally. Its high pressure air jets lifting it several inches off the ground with nothing more then a constant hiss "Done!" Tor shouted in sync with the tap of the enter key.

         Ebon walked into the room, his silvery locks tucked behind his ears. His emerald green eyes were narrowed and he frowned as usual, "Good, now you can repair all the holes you put into my system."

         Tor grinned at the towering Telepath. The man's dress differed greatly from that of Taerthin. He wore a long, fan tailed trench coat, black in hue. His waist length silver-blond hair contrasted greatly with all the black leather he wore. On his right arm he wore a black glove with metal bands that ran all the way to the middle of his bicep. "Yessir." Tor mumbled, realizing he was staring.

         Ebon shook his head, what ever had possessed him to take in this rat of a boy?

End--> Nightlife: Hacker

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