Re: Zephyr


Herr D

[continuation of Chapter 9]

Jennifer and Young Mike stood at the window, she just staring, him recording, as the peculiar hexagons of smoke mixed with the air and were no more. Young Mike panned the camera around, zoomed at a couple of windows, turned it off. “So what are you working on?”
“What? Oh. I think I’m done, finally.” She reached up and shut the window. They both jumped as they heard a loud smacking sound. #*(!@#$!? Young Mike looked up from the cord he was coiling. “What the–” He froze.
“What?” said Jennifer. Young Mike reached around her, picked up the cardboard box, and showed her the 35mm camera without a word. Her eyes bulged. They both as one looked up at the ceiling to see–nothing. Their eyes met.
“We should be going, then.” His face was wooden, eyes darting around, “Slowly.” Jennifer caught her breath. She began trying to cane quietly past her computer. She glanced at the screen, frowned, and powered it down. Young Mike left everything but the 35mm camera right where it was and walked right beside her. He walked her to the freight elevator, pushed the button, and was silent until they got inside and the door closed. “What was that, Jennifer?”
She gaped at him. “What do you mean? How would I know?”
“You frowned at your computer. You usually have no expression when you’re powering down.”
SOMEbody’s been watching. “That? That was nothing. I must have saved all the final copies without remembering. I only remember saving the one working copy, but the file list said they were all saved.”
Young Mike nodded. “You’ve been helped. Just like I was just now. With the camera.”
“Think about it,” he said, “Think hard. DID you save just once? Or did you save how ever many that was?”
As the freight elevator door opened, Jennifer jabbed her finger on the ‘close door’ button and pushed ‘2.’ “There were FIVE copies. I need to look at them.”
Young Mike pushed ‘1,’ waited for the doors to open, and held the ‘open door’ button. “Are you sure you want to go back there right now?”
Jennifer cringed. “No. But I have to. How can I be sure she HELPED me? What if she erased all my work and saved five BLANK copies? I won’t have time to do this again tomorrow. I promised it would be DONE. I HAVE to check. There doesn’t even need to be five! Why the extra?”
Young Mike frowned deeper. He pulled his finger off the button. “Well–” he said as the door closed, “How many copies do you need?”

[Continued Next Block]