by Emma Shortt
And the responsibility, that heavy weight of responsibility. Knowing what was possible but not wanting to make it so. It had driven Chance to the very edge back in those days. Was it any wonder he’d had to escape? Looking back, it was entirely possible that he’d been in the grips of some kind of depression. But then, uber-rich tech billionaires couldn’t be depressed, could they? They had everything.
Chance’s heart raced as he skipped past that folder. He almost paused to delete it. He didn’t know what stopped him. Maybe the pictures of the restaurant. He hadn’t lied to Meg when he’d told her that he’d spent a year in Japan working as a server. What he hadn’t said was that he’d loved every minute of it. They hadn’t recognized him over there. Not with his shaved head and the beginnings of a scruffy beard. He’d been Jack Chance, backpacker, not Jack Richards, genius.
That had been the start of it all. The beginning of a painful journey that saw Jack Richards being squeezed into the smallest part of his life, and Jack Chance given the rest. And yet…Jack Chance was fucking stupid. He was the one who had created the program, not Jack Richards. He’d created it because of the Golden Group. Because of all the things he didn’t want the world to know about.
He’d decided they weren’t ready.
He’d decided that he should hide the solutions away.
And he’d made a program designed to do just that.
A folder flashed up. It had a modified date of more than a week ago. Yes! He’d opened it then to crib a bit of the code for the search program that he’d planned to use on the senior management team. He’d barely given it a second glance at the time, pulling the code free and pasting it elsewhere. He hadn’t even opened the log history that he’d created to go with the program. It had never occurred to him that he needed to.
He needed to now.
He took a deep breath as he clicked the file open. It was called ERQ, an abbreviation of the Latin words et reditus quaerere. Search and return. That was the program’s primary function.
How could he have been so fucking stupid?
He pulled up the log history and navigated to where it kept a record of its movements. The horror Chance felt only increased when he saw what it had been up to, where it had been. There were thousands and thousands of entries on the log. They stretched back to the very day when Chance had created it.
He ran a search on the words “KIT,” “MARLOWE,” and “ANTS.” It returned several results. Chance let out a shaky breath as he scrolled down and read the lines of text in the log. The program had found its way into Meg’s computer. It had taken all of thirty-seven seconds to find the back door that Chance had spent a good few minutes navigating to. There were several documents listed in the log. The program had taken them all. Question was, where the fuck had it stored them?
In X-Tech. Chance knew the answer even as he frantically logged into the servers to confirm it. It took him a while, but eventually he found them, even with a whole bunch of new search terms to work off, but there they were. Not the whole documents. They’d been scrubbed clean and only certain parts of the information within them extracted. Information connected to the Golden Group. Information that was now seamlessly integrated into the X-Tech files like it had always been there.
“What have you done? What have you done?” Chance muttered as he searched through the extracted data.
There was no doubt that it was the information Meg had accused X-Tech of stealing from her. And she was right; they had stolen it. They’d stolen from dozens of developers by the looks of it.
How had this happened? How? Chance had designed the program to venture out into the Web—all of the Web—including the darkest parts, but it was only supposed to look through the forums there, to look through news articles, obscure posts; it was supposed to search for anything connected to the Golden Group. Chance wanted, no he’d needed, to know how close others were to solving the problems that he had hidden. Not because he wanted to release the solutions before they did, but because he didn’t want them to be released—ever.
He had toyed around with code that would trace the Golden Group throughout the Web and would then delete anything that it found. He had even gone so far as integrating that code into ERQ but had abandoned it at the last minute. He hid his own work, but was it right to do the same to others? Chance had never been able to make a decision on that. It hadn’t even been pressing because ERQ mailed him lists every day. None of them had suggested that anyone was close to solving the most world-changing problems in the Golden Group. Except, maybe Meg. She was close. A few years more and she’d probably crack it. Did ERQ know that? Was that why she’d stolen the information and added it to the work that X-Tech was doing? Had his command to return been followed too literally?
Chance dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t quite believe this and yet, the evidence was right in front of him. Somehow, and he didn’t even know how, he had designed the perfect weapon for industrial espionage. ERQ was making her way around the Web, finding the things Chance had asked her to find, tracing them back to the source, using what? The code he’d originally intended to integrate into her? Had a version with that in it survived?
Only, she wasn’t deleting what she found. She was stealing it, bringing it back to X-Tech, and then adding it to the work that X-Tech was doing. She was integrating it so perfectly that there was no trail left behind. That was why Chance’s searches hadn’t turned up anything. ERQ was simply too good. She was learning as she went.
Unregulated AI is dangerous.
Hadn’t that been what he’d told Meg? Only, ERQ wasn’t true AI. She was simply a very, very smart program.
He bolted upright. Dear God, had she found his files? His solutions? Had she stolen them, too? He logged out of all the servers he was connected to, logged out of ERQ, too, putting her into hibernation mode, and checked his Golden Group. He ran through every, single line in their history. It took him hours. The room darkened around him. Chance didn’t even notice.
His knees felt weak when he eventually stood up. Was it with relief? Chance didn’t know, but he found himself sending a heartfelt thank you down the years to his younger self, to the nerd who had somehow known to add a little line in ERQ’s code that had kept her out of his own files. He couldn’t even remember doing it. What else had he added into her that he couldn’t remember doing? All those nights, fingers flying over the keys, almost in a daze of creativity and precision…what had he done?
“You fucking idiot,” he whispered. “How bad is this?”
Chance did not know the answer. ERQ probably did. He eyed her program. She would stay in hibernation mode for now. In the meantime, he had no choice but to head to X-Tech. He needed to talk to Gabe.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Even in the last of the day’s light, X-Tech Towers looked a lot more impressive from the front than it did from behind a dumpster. Meg eyed it from her position across the street, hands on her hips, hair caught and tossed by the wind that had picked up over the last hour.
Was Jack Richards in there? It was late evening. That was purported to be when he arrived. But then, he hadn’t been here this time last week, had he? Last week…Meg shivered. How could it have been just a week ago since she’d snuck her way inside? It felt like it had been an awful lot longer. It was hard to believe that she’d met a man, ended up in bed with him, and was thinking about doing it on the regular, in so short a time.
Chance… Would Jack know who he was? Could he, in fact, be the person who had hired Chance in the first place? Meg had given it a lot of thought in the time it had taken to leave the coffee store, update Kate on what had happened, and head home to change. She’d messaged Chance several times over the course of the afternoon. He hadn’t answered a single one of her messages. Probably he was too busy hunting down whoever had left the stop sign calling card.
The thief.
Her thief.
Chance knew who he or she was, and she was betting that Jack Richards did, too. It
was the only thing that made any kind of sense, and Meg marveled that she hadn’t realized it before. It was the only reason Chance had for keeping her in the dark. That, or he was the thief, and Meg highly doubted that was the case.
Jack Richards…the man she had wanted to confront from the very beginning. Did he suspect that someone in his company was stealing from other developers? Had he hired Chance to track them down, probably giving Chance all the information he needed to do just that? Was that why Chance was so tight-lipped? Because his order came right from the top? Meg was going to find out. She was sick of all the lies. She was sick of the game. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.
She strode across to X-Tech, fists now clenched tight. The doors opened automatically for her, calling out a greeting. Meg shot them a filthy look. The lobby was deserted. It was close to seven o’clock. What time did the staff leave? Meg had no idea. Jimmy hadn’t been sure, seeing as he tended to spend most of his time in the bowels of the place.
One woman was behind the desk that ran the width of the building. She was so tiny that Meg only just saw her. She made a beeline for her, plastering a smile on her face as she walked. It was an effort to do so. Meg did not feel like smiling. She was confused. She was frustrated. Mostly, she was angry.
Angry at X-Tech.
Angry at Chance.
Angry at Jack-fucking-Richards.
“Can I help you?”
The woman looked vaguely familiar. Was it from a geek meet? A convention? Or something else entirely? Meg frantically scrambled through her memories. It wouldn’t be a bad thing at all if she did know this woman.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Meg asked.
“I don’t know,” the woman said. “You do look familiar. Are you part of the Magic: The Gathering group?”
Meg shook her head. “No. Not my thing.”
“Manga Madness?”
“Yesssss,” Meg said, drawing the word out. “Sailor Moon?”
“Absolutely.”
They shared a grin. Meg’s cheeks hurt.
“I’m here to see Jack Richards,” she said.
The woman actually laughed. “Sure, you are.”
“I really am,” Meg said.
The woman arched a brow. Meg only just saw it beneath her huge afro. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” she said. “Jack never has appointments. Not with anyone. He probably isn’t even in yet. He doesn’t generally tend to turn up until later in the evening. I won’t even know when he does. He has his own private elevator.”
“I can wait,” Meg said.
“You’ll probably be waiting forever,” the woman said. “Seriously, forever. He doesn’t see visitors. And, even if he did, I can’t call up to let him know you’re here. He doesn’t have an assistant, and he almost never answers his phone.”
“How do you get ahold of him if you need him, then?” Meg asked.
“I don’t,” the receptionist said. “No one does.”
“What if there’s an emergency?”
“What sort of emergency are we talking about?”
“Critical,” Meg said.
The receptionist shrugged. “We call Gabe.”
Gabe Mahon… He was Jack’s right-hand man. Meg had read up on him in the early days of her investigation. There was plenty to read. Gabe gave all the X-Tech interviews and unveilings. He was widely regarded as the face of the company. Meg had emailed him weeks ago with her complaints. He’d never replied.
“Gabe is in,” the other woman added.
“I’ll speak with him, then,” Meg said.
The receptionist sighed. “Gabe doesn’t generally meet people if they don’t have an appointment, either.” She sighed again. “You could be anyone. We get a lot of fan-geeks here, obviously. But we get a lot of protesters as well.”
“Protestors?”
“Anti-tech groups. Anti-data, that sort of thing. They’ve been a bit more vocal than usual lately. Too many high-profile data breaches.” She scowled. “Not that any of them were ours.”
“I’m not a fan-geek,” Meg said. “Not a protestor, either. But believe me, I do need to speak to Gabe, and he will come down to see me. If I didn’t think so, I’d have just snuck in again.”
The receptionists started. “Snuck in?”
“He’s Jack’s best friend,” Meg said slowly, almost to herself. “I read that. They started X-Tech together. Almost like me and Kate. If Jack hired Chance, then surely he’d have told Gabe? The only reason he wouldn’t is if…” She trailed off. There was only one possible reason.
“If what of what?”
Meg snapped her fingers. “Call him up and tell him that Chance’s friend is down here. Tell him that she needs to speak to him right now about the Ant Optimization Algorithm.”
“Who is Chance?” the receptionist asked. “What have ants got to do with anything?”
“Good questions,” Meg said. “Gabe might be able to answer them. Please make the call.”
“He won’t come down,” the receptionist said.
“He will if you repeat what I just said.”
“And who shall I even say it is?”
“Dr. Marlowe.”
The other woman shook her head, clearly thinking Meg was crazy—and at this point Meg was inclined to agree with her—but the receptionist pressed some keys on her laptop and put a call through. Meg stepped away from the desk, her mind racing, her heart thumping. It stayed like that for the next five minutes, until the doors opposite opened and Gabe Mahon, along with several minions, strode through.
Meg had Googled the head of development more than once. Unlike Jack Richards, there were numerous pictures and videos of him online. He was devilishly attractive. He was also frowning.
“Can I help you, Dr. Marlowe?” he asked, even as he gestured to a room off to the side.
It was what a place like X-Tech called a “breakout space.” There were motivational slogans on the wall. Meg gave them the evil eye.
“I hope so,” Meg said. “I wanted to see Jack but he’s not here, so you’ll have to do.”
Gabe’s frown turned into a smile at that. He gestured to the minions who had not followed them inside. One of them closed the door, leaving the two of them alone. Gabe took a seat, elbows on his thighs.
“I don’t mind subbing.” He tilted his head. The gesture was oddly appealing. Meg suspected it was practiced. She’d seen him doing it in more than one online vid. “We haven’t met before?”
“Nope.”
“I’ve heard of you, though,” he said.
Meg’s stomach clenched at that. “From Chance?”
“From your work with Dr. Andrews.”
“You know about that?”
“Something to do with ants,” Gabe said. “I remember reading an article on it. I had it in mind to give you a call and ask you in. We have a team working on the problem, though, and they assure me they’re close.”
“If they are, it’s not by their own doing,” Meg snapped as she took the seat opposite him.
That removed his smile. “You’re going to need to elaborate on that.”
“I’m about to,” Meg said. “First though, do you know Chance?”
“Of course, I do,” Gabe said slowly. “I’m intrigued to know how you do, though.”
“It’s a long story.”
“You want to tell it to me?”
“No,” Meg said. “I’m going to tell you another story instead.”
And so, she did. She told him about the email she’d received inviting her to the competition. She told him about the work that she’d pitched. She told him that she’d never heard from X-Tech after that. Then about the post she’d found on the obscure forum. The leak…how it matched her own work…how it was her work.
“Seems we’re in a bit of a pickle,” Gabe eventually said.
“A pickle?”
“One of many.” He sighed. “I know where the leak
came from. I dealt with that member of staff earlier today.”
“He stole my work?” Meg said quickly.
“No. He’s just not very good at keeping company secrets. Too young and too dumb, despite his huge IQ.”
“Then…”
“I have no idea who has stolen your work, Dr. Marlowe,” Gabe said. “But if someone from this company has, if we can prove that, they will be dealt with, and all your research returned.”
It was what Meg had wanted to hear for so long, and from the second-in-command, no less. All those weeks of investigation, the plan to sneak into the tower…all of it was for this. And yet…Meg did not feel at all like she imagined she would feel. There was no satisfaction. No sudden triumph. Her head ached. Her heart was still thumping harder than it should have been—she didn’t even want to look at her fitness tracker.
It was all because of Chance.
She knew that.
Because whatever the hell was happening between them was tangled up in this mess, and Meg did not know how they were going to untangle it. What she did know was that she did want to untangle it. No matter what happened here in X-Tech Towers, no matter where the tangle led, Meg wanted Chance to remain in her life. She wanted to play PS4 with him, eat Japanese food together, even go for those awful runs. And it wasn’t just because of the intense attraction; it was because she liked him. She had from the very first.
“What I want to know now, though, is how the hell does Chance fit into all of this?” Gabe asked.
Meg didn’t even know where to start. “Well, I—”
The door behind them opened. Meg turned, expecting it to be the receptionist.
“Ah, seems he’s here to answer that question himself,” Gabe said as he stood. His smile was different now, genuine, and it was directed at the shocked-looking man in the doorway. “I wondered when I’d be seeing you, Jack.”
