her narrow bed and wept out her frustration and worry. Nat had seemed to be doing so well; she’d seemed happy . And her art had gotten even better! A gallery in LA was interested in showing her work. But clearly she wasn’t actually happy...or something bad had happened.
Kamerynne booted up Nat’s computer, composed a short, polite letter to let Nat’s instructors know that she was in the hospital, and got into her email to start sending out messages.
In Nat’s inbox was a message from someone named Dr. Helene Arcanjo:
Natalya,
It’s very nice that the gallery is interested in your drawings, but remember that you must not focus on such trivial things. The Goddess has her plan for you, and you must dedicate yourself to her fully. Do not disappoint us after everything we’ve done for you.
-Helene
Who the hell was this Arcanjo woman? And what had she been doing for Nat? If Nat had confided in Arcanjo about her earlier suicide attempt, this email was as good as handing Nat a loaded pistol. A quick Web search revealed that Arcanjo had a PhD in divinity from the Innsmouth Theological Seminary in Rhode Island and she was the minister for the Temple of the Deep Mother in Oxnard. As far as Kamerynne knew, Nat had never been to the church...but she couldn’t be sure.
Not knowing made her sick to her stomach. What was going on in Nat’s life? Kamerynne dug through Nat’s email, looking for messages to or from Arcanjo. And there was nothing, no messages from other church members, not even any messages referring to the Goddess. If she was deleting the emails, Nat had to believe they contained something incriminating...and that there was a risk of someone looking for them.
Suddenly worried about leaving a search engine history on Nat’s computer, Kamerynne went to her own computer. Another query on Temple of the Deep Mother led to an older version of the church page in archive.org that contained a list of members. Searches on those names led her to a church member’s personal website, which contained a lot of poetry about the Goddess and links to several Cthylla fan pages, a couple of which mentioned Charybdis Studios. Whose representatives Kamerynne’s mother and father had been meeting with the night they died.
*
The next morning, Kamerynne made some phone calls to former associates of her father’s. When she told them what she wanted to know, most of them claimed ignorance or blew her off. Finally, she got in touch with a senior programmer who offered to call her back on another line. He gave her a name, and a campus address.
Kamerynne walked to Boelter Hall and found a small, windowless office on the third floor. The door was open a crack. Inside were two pale computer science students huddled around a Sun Microsystems computer. Their desks were piled high with diskettes, computer cables, and empty Mountain Dew cans.
She rapped on the door frame to get their attention. “Hi, is Chad Barnes in here?”
“Can we help you?” one of them asked, barely looking away from the code on the monitor.
“I hope so. My name’s Kamerynne Craigie, and—”
“Are you Cameron Craigie’s daughter?” His eyes focused on her like lasers.
Nat had the same star-struck expression when she found out she was standing in Grayce Aberdine’s house.
“I am, in fact.” She smiled at them, and suddenly they were both on their feet, talking over each other.
“Wow, it’s an honor—”
“I was so bummed to hear about your dad, it was terrible—”
“I was hoping one of you guys could help me with a project,” she said.
“Sure, what?” the first asked.
“I need everything you can tell me about keyloggers....”
*
Kamerynne disappeared into the computer science underworld at her college. She emerged long enough each day to visit Nat at the hospital, but beyond that she was in the computer lab learning what she could from Chad and his friends or at her own machine. She burrowed into cracking like a larvae in a
Kamerynne booted up Nat’s computer, composed a short, polite letter to let Nat’s instructors know that she was in the hospital, and got into her email to start sending out messages.
In Nat’s inbox was a message from someone named Dr. Helene Arcanjo:
Natalya,
It’s very nice that the gallery is interested in your drawings, but remember that you must not focus on such trivial things. The Goddess has her plan for you, and you must dedicate yourself to her fully. Do not disappoint us after everything we’ve done for you.
-Helene
Who the hell was this Arcanjo woman? And what had she been doing for Nat? If Nat had confided in Arcanjo about her earlier suicide attempt, this email was as good as handing Nat a loaded pistol. A quick Web search revealed that Arcanjo had a PhD in divinity from the Innsmouth Theological Seminary in Rhode Island and she was the minister for the Temple of the Deep Mother in Oxnard. As far as Kamerynne knew, Nat had never been to the church...but she couldn’t be sure.
Not knowing made her sick to her stomach. What was going on in Nat’s life? Kamerynne dug through Nat’s email, looking for messages to or from Arcanjo. And there was nothing, no messages from other church members, not even any messages referring to the Goddess. If she was deleting the emails, Nat had to believe they contained something incriminating...and that there was a risk of someone looking for them.
Suddenly worried about leaving a search engine history on Nat’s computer, Kamerynne went to her own computer. Another query on Temple of the Deep Mother led to an older version of the church page in archive.org that contained a list of members. Searches on those names led her to a church member’s personal website, which contained a lot of poetry about the Goddess and links to several Cthylla fan pages, a couple of which mentioned Charybdis Studios. Whose representatives Kamerynne’s mother and father had been meeting with the night they died.
*
The next morning, Kamerynne made some phone calls to former associates of her father’s. When she told them what she wanted to know, most of them claimed ignorance or blew her off. Finally, she got in touch with a senior programmer who offered to call her back on another line. He gave her a name, and a campus address.
Kamerynne walked to Boelter Hall and found a small, windowless office on the third floor. The door was open a crack. Inside were two pale computer science students huddled around a Sun Microsystems computer. Their desks were piled high with diskettes, computer cables, and empty Mountain Dew cans.
She rapped on the door frame to get their attention. “Hi, is Chad Barnes in here?”
“Can we help you?” one of them asked, barely looking away from the code on the monitor.
“I hope so. My name’s Kamerynne Craigie, and—”
“Are you Cameron Craigie’s daughter?” His eyes focused on her like lasers.
Nat had the same star-struck expression when she found out she was standing in Grayce Aberdine’s house.
“I am, in fact.” She smiled at them, and suddenly they were both on their feet, talking over each other.
“Wow, it’s an honor—”
“I was so bummed to hear about your dad, it was terrible—”
“I was hoping one of you guys could help me with a project,” she said.
“Sure, what?” the first asked.
“I need everything you can tell me about keyloggers....”
*
Kamerynne disappeared into the computer science underworld at her college. She emerged long enough each day to visit Nat at the hospital, but beyond that she was in the computer lab learning what she could from Chad and his friends or at her own machine. She burrowed into cracking like a larvae in a
Similar Books
