"Rachel."

I stare at my cereal bowl, pushing a few flakes around aimlessly with my spoon. Ignoring the voice.

"Rachel, come on." The voice persists. I continue to ignore it. Oh, how interesting this cereal flake is...

The voice sighs. "We'll have to talk about this eventually."

"Oh, you want to talk about it?" I snap, looking up from my bowl to lock eyes with Becca. "Why the hell did you let my parents in? I told you—"

"You told me you had 'family problems'," she says, emphasizing the term with air quotes. "Clearly, there's more going on than that."

"That shouldn't matter! I told you we didn't get along, that should've been a good enough explanation for you! Instead, you, what, invite them in for dinner?"

"I didn't invite them, they just showed up at our door. What was I supposed to do, turn them away?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what you should've done."

"Well, I— Maybe I would have, if I actually knew what was going on. With everything. Working late, ignoring my messages, whatever this, this feud is with your parents?"

I've had enough cereal. While carrying my bowl to the dishwasher, I answer her in an annoyed monotone.

"I'm working late because I have a busy job. I wasn't ignoring your messages, I just forgot to check them. And, frankly, my parents are none of your business."

As I head upstairs to get dressed for work, I try to block it all from my mind — my parents, my conversation with Becca, everything but the day ahead. I don't want to think about the monsters in my family anymore, let alone talk about them. They've taken too much from me already, even invading what was supposed to be a restful sleep. Despite having tried to push the thoughts out of my headspace, last night I dreamt of dark closets, cold, icy rooftops and echoes of shouting in the dark.

I snatch my UNBI windbreaker off the back of my desk chair and throw it on, then march down the stairs and out the door, determined not to think about how today started. I'll feel better once I'm at work, I know it.

* * *

Upon arriving at the UNBI office building and scanning my ID on the check-in monitor, a message pops up telling me to meet Captain Rhonsen in five minutes. I hurry up the stairs and into his office, where he and Agent Grey are already waiting.

"Agent Cassanova." He nods in greeting as I walk in, and gestures to an empty chair.

"Captain. Did I miss anything?" I ask, sitting down, and Grey tells me that they were just waiting for me.

"I've read Agent Grey's report on your progress on the Codebreaker case so far, and I'm quite impressed," the captain says. "Your plan with Evan has been greenlit by the board, and in order to help you better run the operation, we'd like you both to travel to Tokyo and oversee it from there. If that's OK with you, of course."

A quick glance over at my partner tells me he's considering the possibility.

"It's OK with me," I say. For a second, my girlfriend comes to mind, but I dismiss the concern. I'll let her know after the meeting, and it's just one case, I'll be back as soon as it's done.

As if he was reading my mind, Grey asks,

"What about Becca? Shouldn't you ask her?"

"She'll be fine with it." Well, I can convince her, anyway. "This is more important. I mean— I don't mean more important than her, just, you know, this is urgent, and— uh, she'll be fine with it."

My partner eyes me suspiciously.

"Well, I'm in too, then."

"Great." The Captain nods. "I've sent you both a dossier with details pertaining to the flight, where you'll be staying, et cetera. And, while I know this is short notice..." He furrows his brow. "Let's just say I've been encouraged by my bosses to get this whole Codebreaker situation sorted as quickly as possible. If it's alright with the two of you, we'd like you to leave today."

I nod, tell him it's fine with me, and make a mental note to call Becca when I get the chance. Grey also agrees.

"Excellent. Check your messages, your tickets should be there. You'll be leaving from Copenhagen Airport at 19:30 and should arrive at Haneda by 2:45, 9:45 local time. Also, you have permission to leave work early today, at 16:00, to pack for your trip. If all goes as planned, you should be returning in 7 to 9 weeks."

After a few more minutes spent sorting out the details, I head to an empty office to get some work done, finding that as usual, the open-concept area where my desk is is too loud.

* * *

The sounds of an argument fill the hall, voices echoing just outside the door, which I foolishly left open. I push my rolly chair back from my desk and over to the door to close it, but it's as if my investigator-senses start up automatically, because I almost unwillingly listen in on the conversation. One of the voices is Agent Grey's, I recognize immediately. The other is a female voice that sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it.

"You don't understand!" The unnamed woman says, speaking with a hint of concern. "He's following the rules for now, but if — when — he accepts the sponsor, he'll be untouchable. All due respect, Agent, you don't know how much influence these corporations can have. Dr. Blayne, with corporate backing... the ethics committee doesn't stand a chance against that kind of power."

"Ms. Quarta, I wish I could be of help to you, but you know as well as I do that the UNBI can't interfere with corporate disputes."

So that's who it is! Azria Quarta, the CEO of Fourth Wall Technologies. I must've recognized her voice from the interview she did last week on A-News, after some scientist in Germany mentioned her in a speech. She had been asked about her opinion on his research, and said — what was the wording? — that she didn't condone what he was doing. I remember wondering if she knew something the rest of us didn't.

"This isn't a corporate dispute," she explains, "at least, not yet. Look, I'm not telling you to arrest him or anything, just keep an eye on him. I don't know everything he's up to, but I know what he's told me, and I know him. He's obsessed with his work, and if he doesn't get what he wants, he'll break the law, or get someone else to. One way or another, he will get his hands on the test subject, and it will end badly. The UNBI can't just sit back and let this happen!"

Still in my chair, I peek around the doorway. Azria Quarta and Agent Grey are talking by his desk, and he looks apologetic as he replies.

"I'm sorry, I really wish there was something I could do, but I can't. You could take this higher up the chain of command, but honestly, I don't think you'll get anywhere. Even in cases where it's technically still within our rights, the UNBI doesn't like to get involved in corporate matters."

Azria answers something that I can't hear, then starts to walk toward the exit. Just as the door slides open, she turns back around.

"He's going to kill her, you know that?"

"Wha— who?"

"The test subject. Some kid in Japan. He's going to experiment on and, in all likelihood, kill a teenage girl because even the one organization in the world that's supposed to maintain global safety and justice is afraid of a damn corporation!"

And with that, she leaves.

I shut the door and get back to my work.

* * *

Lines. I hate lines.

All you do is stand there, waiting to get to the end, unable to focus on anything else because you have to pay attention to the line moving, so you just end up mentally walking in circles, over analyzing the potted plant in the corner or thinking about how much you hate lines.

Well, I do, anyway. A few couples talk to each other in those annoying, sickly sweet tones, two children in front of me scream at their parents, and a middle-aged woman at the front of the line loudly complains to the check-in officer who is innocently trying to do her job at the boarding gate.

Ugh, I think I'm getting a headache.

"MOMMY!" The little girl screeches at the top of her tiny lungs. "I WANT it!"

"I told you, S, we already had a treat today."

"But that was before I knew there was ice cream! I want ICE CREAM!" She and her brother, who look around the same age, maybe 4 or 5, jump up and down.

I sip from my water bottle and close my eyes, trying to block out all the stimulus. Maybe if I don't look at the boy violently tugging his mother's arm in the direction of the ice cream stand, they'll all just disappear.

"Serenity, Aidan, that's enough!" The mother exclaims.

A laugh tries to break free from my lips and I nearly choke on my water.

"Serenity..." I chuckle dryly, "the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled." I glance up at the exasperated mother, stifling a laugh. "I think you may have missed the mark on that one."

She shoots me a glare, then turns to the man I assume is her husband. He talks on a phone and avoids eye contact, clearly unwilling to help with the unruly children.

My attention is pulled away by the complaining lady.

"I TOLD you," she shouts at the attendant, "I booked the ticket two weeks ago!"

"I know, Miss," she answers, surprisingly calmly — I could never be that calm in her situation. "But it hasn't been confirmed. Are you sure you answered the confirmation email?"

"Wha— Confirmation email? I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough confirmation for you?"

My partner, seemingly oblivious to the whole scene, effortlessly chats up the girl behind us.

I roll my eyes and pull my phone from my pocket, checking again for messages. I texted Becca about the trip hours ago, but she hasn't responded yet or answered any of my calls, and Grey refused to let me file a missing persons report. He even called the Cyber Crimes specialist who works on the floor below us and told them if I called and asked them to track her phone, to say no! Something about her "probably just being mad at me", and "giving me the silent treatment", and "take a chill pill, Cassie".

He's probably right. Why would she be mad, though? It's a work trip, what was I supposed to do?

The girl next to him giggles, pulling my attention away once again.

"So," she says, the grin evident in her voice, "aside from flirting with girls in airport lineups, what do you do all day?"

"I'm a UNBI agent, actually."

"Oh, really, wow... Do you have any exciting cases going on?"

"Well, I'm currently trying to solve quite an intriguing mystery..."

"Ooh, and what's that?"

"Well, you see, the girl in the airport lineup, you mentioned? I just can't seem to figure out how she got so beautiful," he answers with an obviously flirty smile.

For the second time in the past 10 minutes, I nearly choke on my water.

Miss Cutesy Giggle just then notices me.

"Who's your friend?"

"Oh, she's my partner at the bureau."

Her eyes flick over me suspiciously.

"Oh, chill, I'm a lesbian, in a long-term relationship, and can barely put up with him as a work colleague," I tell her.

Grey raises an eyebrow. "Can't argue with the lesbian thing, but whether or not you're currently in a relationship is somewhat debateable."

I glare at him. "Well look at that, he just demonstrated my third point."

"Next," the check-in officer calls, and I turn and notice the family in front of me has started to board.

Grey says goodbye to the girl and follows me to the desk, pulling out his pCard which contains his boarding pass.

"So," I start to ask as we board the plane, "any new leads from Agent Boring down in Financial Analytics?"

"His name is Dillman, Cassie. Agent George Dillman."

"Oh, come on, he's a snoozefest, Grey. Not to mention he chose possibly the most boring job in the UNBI. Seriously, it's barely a step up from being an accountant," I say, practically shivering at the thought of sitting in front of a monitor all day reading tax reports and bank transfer receipts.

My partner sighs audibly, but I think I detect a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Anyways," he says, "he did actually find something. Well, sort of. I was going to tell you about it while we waited in line, but—"

"But you were busy flirting with that girl?"

"Hey, I— Do you want to hear it or not?"

"OK, OK, tell me."

"So, you know how we started compiling the list of girls who match Evan Barcy's description of Codebreaker? Well, Dillman's been scanning them all for suspicious transfers. Y'know, mysterious deposits of credits that don't originate from a normal source. He hasn't found any, so far."

"I thought you said he did have a lead?" We've arrived at our seats, and I toss my carry-on into the overhead bin.

"After turning up nothing," Grey continues, tossing his bag next to mine, "Agent Not-So-Boring-Now had the idea that we could run a search to find all bank accounts with regular anonymous transfer payments originating in Tokyo, and cross-reference their photos with the Evan list, in case our hacker is using a fake identity to accept payments."

"Hmm, that actually sounds like a good idea," I respond, thinking it over. "Wouldn't we need some kind of warrant to access those bank accounts, though? Wait, how'd we even get the warrant for the list peoples' accounts?"

"You're right, a Tokyo-wide warrant would be nearly impossible to get. I've been trying to narrow down the search parameters by looking for accounts that have their users' names and basic info stored only in the pCard, and don't match up with real people in the Identity Database. Those will be easier to get warrants for, because for one thing, they're specific individuals, so it's not, y'know, a massive, city-wide invasion of privacy, and also, they've already done something mildly suspicious in creating a fake pCard. Oh, and as for the warrant for the people on the list, no idea. Captain Rhonsen told us he was in a hurry to solve the case, maybe it just went through the system faster."

"Hmm." I nod, not particularly caring — or knowing, honestly — how the warrant system works so long as I can do my job.

I lean back in my seat, staring at the ceiling and focussing on the sound of the air circulation system. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grey pull out his phone and load up an eBook. Even on a supersonic plane, the trip is over 7 hours. Mentally, I plan the time — I'll probably work on the case for part of it, and maybe watch a movie.

The plane starts to take off, and I look out the window as we begin to rise up over the airport, then the city, then disappear into the clouds before finally making it to the stratosphere where we'll be for most of the journey.

I pull my laptop from where I rested it in the seat pouch in front of me, and before flipping it open, turn toward Grey and say,

"One more thing?"

"Yeah?" My partner looks up from his eBook.

"Dillman's still boring."