be a number of reasons," Louis said. "Usually it's because the user forgets the assigned name."
"I checked my directory," Victor said. "They weren't there."
"Maybe they got in someone else's directory," Louis said.
"I never thought of that," Victor admitted. "But I can remember using them, and I never had to designate another path to call them up."
"Well, I can't say unless I look into it," Louis said. "What were the names you gave the files?"
"I want this to remain confidential," Victor emphasized.
"Of course."
Victor gave Louis the names and Louis sat down at the terminal himself.
"No luck?" asked Victor after a few minutes when the screen remained blank.
"Doesn't seem so. But back in my office I can look into it by using the computer to search through the logs. Are you sure these were the designated file names?"
"Quite sure," Victor said.
"I'll get right on it if it's important," Louis said.
"It's important."
After Louis left, Victor stayed by the computer terminal. He had an idea. Carefully he typed onto the screen the name of another file: BABY-FRANK. For a moment he hesitated, afraid of what might turn up-or what might not. Finally he pushed Execute and held his breath. Unfortunately his fears were answered: VJ's file was gone!
Sitting back in his chair, Victor began to sweat. Three related but uncrossreferenced files could not disappear by coincidence. Suddenly Victor saw Hurst's engorged face and remembered his threat: "You're not the white knight you want us to believe . . . . You're not immune."
Victor got up from the terminal and went to the window. Clouds were blowing in from the east. It was either going to rain or snow. He stood there for a few moments, wondering if Hurst had anything to do with the missing files. Could he possibly suspect? If he did, that might have been the basis for his vague threat. Victor shook his head. There was no way Hurst could have known about the files. No one knew about them. No one!
5. Monday Evening
Marsha looked across the dinner table at her husband and son. VJ was absorbed in reading a book on black holes, barely looking up to eat. She would have told him to put the book away, but Victor had come home in such a bad mood she didn't want to say anything that would make it worse. And she herself was still troubled about VJ. She loved him so much she couldn't bear the thought that he might be disturbed, but she also knew she couldn't help him if she didn't face the truth. Apparently he'd spent the whole day at Chimera, seemingly by himself because Victor admitted, when she'd specifically asked, that he'd not seen VJ since morning.
As if sensing her gaze, VJ abruptly put down his book and took his plate over to the dishwasher. As he rose, his intense blue eyes caught Marsha's. There was no warmth, no feeling, just a brilliant turquoise light that made Marsha feel as if she were under a microscope. "Thank you for the dinner," VJ said mechanically.
Marsha listened to the sound of VJ's footsteps as he ran up the back stairs. Outside the wind suddenly whistled, and she looked out the window. In the beam of light from over the garage she could see that the rain had changed to snow. She shivered, but it wasn't from the wintry landscape.
"I guess I'm not too hungry tonight," Victor offered. As far as Marsha remembered, it was the first time he'd initiated conversation since she'd gotten home from making her hospital rounds.
"Something troubling you?" Marsha asked. "Want to talk about it?"
"I don't need you to play psychiatrist," Victor said harshly.
Marsha knew that she could have taken offense. She wasn't playing psychiatrist. But she thought that she'd play the adult, and not push things. Victor would tell her soon enough what was on his
"I checked my directory," Victor said. "They weren't there."
"Maybe they got in someone else's directory," Louis said.
"I never thought of that," Victor admitted. "But I can remember using them, and I never had to designate another path to call them up."
"Well, I can't say unless I look into it," Louis said. "What were the names you gave the files?"
"I want this to remain confidential," Victor emphasized.
"Of course."
Victor gave Louis the names and Louis sat down at the terminal himself.
"No luck?" asked Victor after a few minutes when the screen remained blank.
"Doesn't seem so. But back in my office I can look into it by using the computer to search through the logs. Are you sure these were the designated file names?"
"Quite sure," Victor said.
"I'll get right on it if it's important," Louis said.
"It's important."
After Louis left, Victor stayed by the computer terminal. He had an idea. Carefully he typed onto the screen the name of another file: BABY-FRANK. For a moment he hesitated, afraid of what might turn up-or what might not. Finally he pushed Execute and held his breath. Unfortunately his fears were answered: VJ's file was gone!
Sitting back in his chair, Victor began to sweat. Three related but uncrossreferenced files could not disappear by coincidence. Suddenly Victor saw Hurst's engorged face and remembered his threat: "You're not the white knight you want us to believe . . . . You're not immune."
Victor got up from the terminal and went to the window. Clouds were blowing in from the east. It was either going to rain or snow. He stood there for a few moments, wondering if Hurst had anything to do with the missing files. Could he possibly suspect? If he did, that might have been the basis for his vague threat. Victor shook his head. There was no way Hurst could have known about the files. No one knew about them. No one!
5. Monday Evening
Marsha looked across the dinner table at her husband and son. VJ was absorbed in reading a book on black holes, barely looking up to eat. She would have told him to put the book away, but Victor had come home in such a bad mood she didn't want to say anything that would make it worse. And she herself was still troubled about VJ. She loved him so much she couldn't bear the thought that he might be disturbed, but she also knew she couldn't help him if she didn't face the truth. Apparently he'd spent the whole day at Chimera, seemingly by himself because Victor admitted, when she'd specifically asked, that he'd not seen VJ since morning.
As if sensing her gaze, VJ abruptly put down his book and took his plate over to the dishwasher. As he rose, his intense blue eyes caught Marsha's. There was no warmth, no feeling, just a brilliant turquoise light that made Marsha feel as if she were under a microscope. "Thank you for the dinner," VJ said mechanically.
Marsha listened to the sound of VJ's footsteps as he ran up the back stairs. Outside the wind suddenly whistled, and she looked out the window. In the beam of light from over the garage she could see that the rain had changed to snow. She shivered, but it wasn't from the wintry landscape.
"I guess I'm not too hungry tonight," Victor offered. As far as Marsha remembered, it was the first time he'd initiated conversation since she'd gotten home from making her hospital rounds.
"Something troubling you?" Marsha asked. "Want to talk about it?"
"I don't need you to play psychiatrist," Victor said harshly.
Marsha knew that she could have taken offense. She wasn't playing psychiatrist. But she thought that she'd play the adult, and not push things. Victor would tell her soon enough what was on his