What's wrong with me?

It's June 04, 22:26. I should be on my way to Chika-Kurabu right now to meet with Anonymous13810 and deliver the program. It's a 17 minute walk, the average lineup is at this time is 13 minutes, and I always try to arrive at the meeting location before the agreed upon time, so I am there before my clients, plus I planned to get there even earlier today in case anything goes wrong with my fake ID and I have to find a way through the back entrance. I should have left at 22:20. Instead, I'm lying on my floor using my hoodie as a pillow and somehow doing the mental part of crying without the actual tears.

Oh, teenage mood swings, how I hate you.

So, the story, well, the simplified version, anyway:

I was ready to leave, had my dark clothes and mask and flash drive with the program and my hair tied back. Then, as I was opening my bedroom window, as I always do, it once again got stuck halfway up. My mother was sleeping in her room across the hall, and, knowing she wouldn't wake up and even if she did, wouldn't notice me moving around the house, I figured, why not just go out the front door. I mean, this whole sneaking-out-the-window business is a little excessive, no? Not gonna lie, I kinda feel like a character in a cliché teen film. But, well, as I was walking toward the doorway out of my room, some part of my brain insisted on replaying the thoughts that lead to this decision. My mother wouldn't wake up. She wouldn't notice me moving around the house. Wouldn't notice the door open, and, like always, wouldn't notice I was gone. Because, well, she just doesn't notice me. Then I over-thought about that for several minutes and, long story short, that's why I'm currently not-crying on my bedroom floor with my face buried in a hoodie.

Wow, go me.

From across the room, I hear the telltale buzz-chime of a notification from Viewport, Pictograph, Inc.'s news network. I probably wouldn't bother to check it if it weren't for the fact that the vibration from the phone knocked it off the shelf in my closet. So, forcing myself to get up, I clamber over my bed to where it landed and skim the headline and TL;DR.

[Science Sector] Dr. Rovart Blayne Proceeds with Animal Trials for Controversial Study, Corporate Sponsors Reveal Little

It's not all that interesting, really — just a short piece about how the corporation Dr. Blayne is now working for is being pretty secretive about the experiments. If you ask me, the journalist — I think A. Nelson was the name on the byline — is just trying to spin a conspiracy out of some basic news.

Well, I'd better be going, anyway, or I'll be late. To be safe, I run through my checklist one last time in my head.

Mask on? Check.

Blue streaks tucked back? Check.

Tracker wristband off, plugged into computer, and set to loop heart rate? Check, check, and check.

After picking the flash drive up off the floor, I head out the door and start jogging toward the club.

* * *

It's chaotic in here. Lights flashing, music blaring, and so, so many people.

—Which, of course, is the point. If the UNBI somehow got word that I'd be here, they'd have a pretty hard time finding me in this place. I'm also not in view of the security cameras because of everyone around me.

"Woah— Sorry!"

Downside to the chaos? Constantly being accidentally shoved or tripped by drunk partygoers. And, of course, the difficulty in finding Anonymous13810.

Gathering my composure, I start to walk around the room, trying to pick out individual conversations over the chatter and music. When planning the meeting, I gave the client a codeword to say, so when I heard it I could find him in the crowd. I told him to pretend to be talking on the phone, telling someone about the myth of—

"Perseus and Athena. It reminds me of these places, the chaos, inability to see where you're going... You remember that one, right? She gave him bronze sword to fight Medusa, and—"

While trying to remain inconspicuous, walk toward the voice, grabbing his hand as I brush past him. I'm wearing gloves, of course, in case he's caught and the UNBI tests everything he's wearing for DNA, though it's probably not necessary — I don't think I touched his clothing.

He follows me through the crowd to the middle of the club, where we're completely surrounded by people and hidden from the cameras. I hold up the flash drive with his program in one hand, and he passes me a temporary payment transfer card. Normally, I'd accept payment with the Xaria Clarke pCard, but the UNBI found out about that, and will see if I receive any payments on that account. For now, temp cards are the only safe choice. Pulling the scanner from my pocket, I tap it against the card, and it confirms the amount — 25 000 credits.

I nod, hand him the flash drive, and slip away through the crowd and toward the back entrance.

* * *

Eventually, I'll need a pCard, but with the Xaria Clarke one having just been found, I'm not planning on setting up a new one just yet. It's not like I can just transfer Xaria's funds to a new one — somebody's monitoring the transactions, and that would lead them straight to the new account. Instead, I'll store the funds on temporary cards, like the one the client gave me, for now. Good thing I decided to keep a few extra ones stashed away in case I needed them.

Unfortunately, I can't just move credits from Xaria's card to the temp cards, either — that would also leave a trail. The UNBI would probably put out a warning or something to stores, telling them to watch for anyone using any of the cards that have been transferred to. I tried hacking the payment history to see if I could delete, or at least corrupt, the recorded transactions, but I haven't been able to access it yet, and I need a solution more quickly.

Well, quickly is relative, I guess. Long story short, one fake stock-market investment portfolio, three offshore bank accounts and a shell corporation later, I think I've successfully broken any trail connecting Xaria Clarke to the stack of temporary payment cards now lying on my desk.

Oh, and also, it's 2 in the frickin' morning. But hey, what else am I supposed to do? I'm not feeling the whole "sleep" thing, there are no new episodes of the shows I like and I've rewatched Timeskip too many times to count, and OutlawResolve must be too busy to reply to my messages. So, it's 2 o'clock crime-time, I guess.

Anyways, at least now, it's time for the fun part: sending those UNBI agents on a wild goose chase.

pCards all have a built-in location tracker, in case they ever get lost. The authorities can't get access to the location data without a warrant, but, knowing there was a possibility of my alias's card somehow being found out, I've kept it in a wallet with a location-blocking insert. As for why I didn't just cut the chip out, well... Here's why.

The UNBI knows the fake pCard exists, and that it belongs to xCodebreaker01, but what they don't know, is that I know they know. So, if the location were to somehow, accidentally come back online...

Well, let's just say Xaria's thinking of taking a long trip down the Japanese Inter-Prefecture Hovertruck Route.

* * *

It was a bronze shield.

In the myth, the one I told my client to use as a code, to help me find him in the crowd. Athena gave Perseus a bronze shield, but that's not what A said. When he was pretending to talk on the phone, he said it was a sword.

For some reason, that's been bothering me since I realized the mistake last night, when I got back from Chika-Kurabu. Didn't help that OutlawResolve was nowhere to be found, either. Not that this has anything to do with him, and of course I couldn't even tell him about the meeting, but... still. He understands about sketchy clients and bad feelings.

It especially didn't help that when I checked 1NT-C0M this morning, I saw new messages between Outlaw and a few other users in the group chat from around 6:15, my time. So, he was online... He just didn't respond to me.

Is this what being "left on 'read'" is like? Because it's yet another thing for me to overthink about, and I have quite enough of those.

But, it's probably nothing, so, y'know, back to the sword thing.

I don't even care much for mythology. I mean, the stories are interesting, of course, but I'm by no means an expert, not like the students in the school's Classics Club or anything. But, this one I know I'm right about, because I know the rest of the story. Perseus used the polished surface of the shield as a mirror so he could see Medusa, so he wouldn't have to look directly at her and be turned to stone.

Point is, I remember it was a shield. As for why the client's mistake has been bothering me, I really couldn't say for certain. The only guess I have leads down quite the metaphorical rabbit hole.

You see, so much could've gone wrong when Perseus fought the gorgon Medusa. He could've lost so easily. Just one accidental glance at her, and he's dead. Really, that reflective shield was instrumental in his success. If he had been given a sword, instead, he likely would've lost the battle. After all, how do you fight someone with no way of seeing them?

One variable, and the whole outcome is changed. And I'm a little worried Anonymous13810 is that variable.

The smart move — the Goddess of Wisdom's shield, so to speak — would've been for me to ignore the mysterious client's messages after I told him the first time that I wouldn't meet with him. Instead, I let my curiosity get the better of me, and broke not one but two of my rules — the equivalent of charging into battle with a shiny sword, overconfidence and no real strategy.

What on Earth was I thinking?

"Kalix? Hello?" Roxy waves a hand in front of my face. It's a good thing she did, too, or I would've walked right into the recycler port sticking out of the wall of the school cafeteria. What can I say, I guess that's one of the risks of walking through the hall preoccupied with Greek mythological metaphors for international felonies due to overthinking about the nonexistent deeper meaning of a total stranger's minor slip-up.

"Oh— Sorry! Temporarily distracted." I turn back to her and, noticing that I'm fidgeting again, release the pendant of my necklace from my grasp.

Roxy laughs. "You ICSNTs really do get lost in your thoughts, don't you?"

"Guilty as charged," I joke.

By 'ICSNT', she's of course referring to my UPA, or Updated Personality and Aptitude result. In Careers class yesterday we all took the test, and it seems like no one can stop talking about their personal 'codes' and the various traits we've been reading about them.

Each letter in the acronym supposedly represents an aspect of your personality. The first is I vs. E, meaning Introverted/Extroverted, then Cerebral/Physical, Sciences/Humanities/Arts, aNalyse/eMpathize, and Thinking/Feeling. Oh, and if a score is right in the middle between the options, the letter will just be X, meaning a mix of them. Roxy's score has one of those, she's an ECAMX, the X meaning her decision-making is based on a mix of Thinking and Feeling.

As for Roxy's comment, apparently it's a common trait of ICSNTs to overthink things and get lost in their own thoughts. I can't exactly disagree with that one.

"Anyway, what were you saying?"

"Cayden was wondering if you could help him with his compsci project after school. Remember, you offered before?"

"Right, yeah, of course I can. It's the 'design a game' thing, right?"

"Yep, that one. Oh, speaking of compsci, did you see the news? Somebody leaked information from the UNBI about xCodebreaker01. Apparently they almost found her."

"Really? What happened?" Is this about the pCard, maybe? I checked the news this morning, and there was nothing new... I wonder why Roxy's more up-to-date than me.

"They found a suspicious pCard that they thought was hers. It belonged to a girl named Xaria Clarke. Unfortunately, that's not a real person, just an alias or something, and the trail went dead."

She continues telling me about the story, while I'm more concerned with how it got leaked in the first place... The UNBI is super secretive, and they do thorough background checks on all their agents, so there's unlikely to be a mole... As for hacking, there's no way. The Identity Database was hard enough, and the information storage for the organisation itself — notes on live cases, etc. — is practically impenetrable. Trust me, I've tried. So, either there is a mole, despite all the precautions, or someone, I don't know, broke into the building or something. Maybe they stole an agent's ID card?

I notice Roxy's been quiet for a few seconds, and look over. She laughs.

"Distracted again? I get the feeling you didn't hear any of that."

"Sorry, you're right, my mind just wandered a bit. I was wondering how the UNBI could've gotten a leak."

"Yeah, that does seem weird. I'm sure it's nothing big, though."

"Oh also, just curious, why do you know so much about the Codebreaker case anyway? You just seem very, you know, up to date. I thought you thought the news was boring."

"Sure, all that 'corporation 1 bought another subsidiary and now has a higher net worth than corp 2' stuff you see on the feeds is dead boring, but this is different. Codebreaker is like a character from a movie or something, she's actually interesting, unlike your usual run-of-the-mill petty criminal. And she's smart enough to stay ahead of the UNBI, which makes the case exciting to follow."

"You think she's smart? I mean, she could just be, y'know, really cautious."

"Are you kidding? That fake pCard with the disappearing photo program was super clever. She must've also managed to somehow disable the location tracking chip on the card, too, or they would've found her that way. Besides, her hacking skills? Getting a Level 10 in compsci makes you 'smart'. Hacking into a corrupt politician's personal computer remotely, without ever going near it physically and releasing his darkest secrets to the world without leaving a speck of a trail? That makes her a genius."

Genius?

Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly, but the Governor Lampton hack was pretty tricky. I can't help but smile at the memory of that particular job. It was a political rival who hired me to do it, but I was tempted to mess up his life somehow even before that. The dickhead totally deserved it.

Instantly picking up on my facial expressions in the way only Roxanna can, she added,

"I agree, Rudd Lampton really got what he deserved with that one."

There's a short pause before Roxy speaks up again, seeming a little nervous.

"Speaking of really smart people who got a Level 10 in compsci... I had this idea and I was wondering if you could help me with it."

"Sure, a project or something?"

"Not exactly..."

"Oh come on, just tell me! You know my curiosity is killing me."

"OK, so you know those books we used to read as kids? Jeni and Joy's Detective Club?"

"Yeah..." I'm getting a bad feeling about this. What's she planning?

"We used to talk about how fun it would be to team up and solve a mystery like them, and I was just thinking, why can't we? Why don't we try to find out who Codebreaker is? I mean, sure, we're not professionals or anything, but how much smarter than us could the UNBI be? I mean, you said it yourself, they couldn't even stop their own info from being leaked. Seriously, we could do it! She lives right here, in Tokyo, for all we know we could have met her! She could've been standing right next to me in a café line, and I'd have no idea. If they're right about her age, she might be a student! Wouldn't that be crazy, if this whole time, she was sitting next to me in class?"

"Oh— uh, yeah. Real crazy."

"So? Will you help me look for her? Kalix and Roxy's Detective Club?"

"Umm... Hm, so, about that..."

"Oh come on, we could really do it! Plus, I know how bored you get in the summer, and school's almost over, so now we'd have something to do."

"I know, I'm just thinking, maybe we should leave it to the professionals? I'm sure they have everything under control, they'll find her in no time. I just don't think there'd be a point to us getting involved. Besides, what if we get hurt or something?"

"She's a computer nerd, Kal, how dangerous could she really be?"

"OK, fair point there."

"Besides, sure, maybe we wouldn't actually catch her, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. The worst that could happen is we just don't figure it out. No big deal."

Dammit, why does she keep making actually good points? And it's not like I can just tell her 'no, actually, the worst that could happen is you do find her and I get arrested for all the stupid crimes I did'.

Then again, if the UNBI hasn't found me yet, Roxanna probably can't either, right? And if I agreed to 'help' her, I could make sure she stays off the real trail. But then I'd be lying to my best friend. Y'know, even more than I already am...

Then, of course, Roxy and her people-reading superpower take note of my concerned face.

"Kalix... is something else going on here? I understand being hesitant, but you seem to really not want to do this..."

"It's nothing, don't worry, I just think maybe— I don't know if— umm..." Why can't I think of a good reason not to do this?

"Do you... know something? Please, just be honest."

"It's nothing, I promise."

"Then? Let's do it. Let's find her."

"We can't, it's just—"

"Of course we can! Why not? The two of us would make an unstoppable team, and you'd be a great detective! Come on, your aptitude even recommended UNBI agent as a job. Techy computer stuff and figuring things out are like your two biggest skills, and this combines both of them!"

"Roxy..."

"Besides, wouldn't you kinda like to meet her? I mean, she's like the real-world equivalent of that badass hacker chick from the really old sci-fi movie you're obsessed with."

Hold on, did she just compare me to Trinity? As in, from The Matrix? Awesome! That's awesome and she's awesome and everything is frickin' awesome—

Not the point, Kalix! Focus on the problem, here.

Oh, right, she's trying to figure out my secret identity and therefore get me arrested. Not awesome.

"Look, I get that it would be exciting and all, but—"

"But what? If there's some real reason you don't want to help me, I get it, but I can't help but feel like you're holding something back."

"It's not that, I just... um..."

"If you're just scared or something, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Roxy—"

"We wouldn't be getting in the UNBI's way or anything, there's nothing we could get in trouble for, I doubt she's dangerous and besides, we'll call the cops if we actually find her, so—"

"Roxy, wait, I— I have to tell you something."