The Millennial Box by Julie Steimle (snow like ashes .TXT) 📖

All the FBI agents in the room stared at the flippancy in that last part. But Zormna smothered a laugh and turned away.

Eric gently shook his head, amused, yet annoyed with Jeff's response.

"Besides," Jeff explained a little more seriously, "I thought James Sicamore with his expertise, could help. All of you can sit and watch if you like, but I need an inside view on this one." Then Jeff took a step back from Agent Sicamore to give him a place to sit at the computer. 

The FBI agent paled. He peeked back at the other agents, stiffening at the imminent probability that Jeff would expose him as a second generation Martian-blooded man. Yet, Jeff only smiled placidly, waiting.

"What do I need to do?" Sicamore asked in a low tone.

Turning back to face the computer, Jeff typed in a website and pressed Search. It flashed rather quickly to a clean blue screen and pulled up the icons and laid out the graphics, blazoning to their eyes the words 'Good Blood, Good Works, Service Society' over a revolving Earth. Smaller icons lined the bottom of the screen: one for registering, one for registered members, and one for information about the society for visitors. Jeff clicked on that one.

"Alright, I need you to help me register so we can get past the security," Jeff said, waiting. "I tried to break in the conventional way. Well, conventional for me, but I need a few details that you have that would make it easier."

Agent Sicamore stepped back. "What details?"

Jeff spun back in his swivel seat and smiled at him. "You know your contacts really well. I was hoping they told you personal things - details my people, my specific, yet very large group of people, might not get because your contacts are part of a smaller, more elite group."

The other agents looked at Sicamore, waiting to see what he would say. He never revealed much about his contacts to them. Agent Sicamore looked at the screen and then at Jeff. He then peered back at Zormna, who was sipping soda while thumbing through the papers Agent Keane had left on the table.

"Ok, what do you need?"

Nodding, Jeff swiveled back to the computer and clicked his mouse on the Return to Menu icon. He clicked on the Register icon and the screen passed to a new window. There on the screen was a list of questions. Most were the usual: name, address, email address, phone number. But the rest was like a test. It asked the person registering to complete a set of riddles.

What is sweeter than sugar?

Jeff looked up at Sicamore and waited.

The man blinked. "I don't know. What is this?"

Jeff shrugged and sighed. "I was just hoping on this one."

Zormna looked at it. Then she pushed her way to the computer. "The answer is blood."

They turned their eyes on her.

Jeff blinked. "Do you know this riddle?" he asked, surprised that she knew anything of this nature.

She shrugged. "I think it is a song."

Jeff glanced back at the screen. Pausing as his brow wrinkled, he said, "I don't think I'm familiar with this song."

Zormna smirked and leaned on the computer desk. "You wouldn't. It's an uppercity song. When I was forced to work in a restaurant during my court marshal, I heard this song the P.M.s liked to sing. I remember it because it annoyed me." Pointing, she said, "Look. The second one is also blood."

Jeff looked at it, reading:

What beats love greater for hearts?

She nodded. "And the third is lips."

Sicamore looked down at her. The question read:

What lesser thing is there to kiss?

"What is the higher thing to kiss?" Sicamore murmured at Zormna.

She frowned and stopped leaning on the desk, rising as she stepped back. "That's enemy's blood put to your own lips."

All the men in the room recoiled in disgust.

Jeff also made a face. "What about the fourth?"

Zormna read it aloud. "What defeats a warm embrace?" She thought, trying to recite the song. She swallowed when she came to it. Shaking her head, Zormna recited the line out loud. "It is the sight of cold on a Tarrn's dead face."

She glared at the computer as she walked away from it.

Jeff let out a breath as he shook his head. "Scrapes, this is sick."

He typed in the last answer and pressed enter. The screen went blank. It then asked for a drawing of their heart. Jeff looked up at Zormna, who was standing back next to Eric, to see if she knew that answer.

"I have no idea what that means," she said, not even stepping closer. She could see it well enough at that distance.

Agent Sicamore stared at it. It was an odd puzzle, and one he did not know either.

"Hey!" Agent Keane stepped up, "I know that one." Turning to Agent Sicamore, "Didn't you say that symbol on her arm," nudging towards Zormna, "was the heart of Mars? Isn't that it?"

Jeff glanced up at Keane thoughtfully. "It's worth a shot," Jeff tried, starting to draw up the symbol.

"No!" Zormna leapt to stop his hand.

He dropped his hand from the mouse and looked back at her. "What is it?"

"It isn't that. To draw that symbol would mean declaring allegiance to the old traditions and the people. The High Class wouldn't do that. They're more self-centered." Zormna peered at Sicamore. "I think it would be their specific symbol, the one for their family."

Jeff nodded and looked at Sicamore. "Do you remember what it looks like?"

Sicamore blinked at Jeff, feeling hot under his collar. "What?"

"Your, uh, contact's family crest. The tattoo they have on their left shoulder. Can you remember what it looks like?" Jeff asked again, waiting expectantly.

Agent Sicamore peeked back at the other agents. They peered at him with interest, but with no more curiosity than they had been during this entire exchange. He nodded. "I think so."

Jeff backed away from the computer and stood up. "Can you draw it?"

The FBI agent paled, but he sat down in Jeff's chair. He had to do this. This was the only way.

Agent Sicamore proceeded to move the mouse, drawing a filigreed image - a rather sketchy image at that, and off to the side of the fancy snaky doodle he attempted was a small symbol similar to the one Zormna had branded on her right shoulder. He stopped.

"I don't remember the rest," he said, turning back to Jeff.

Jeff nodded. "Let's just hope it is enough."

He pressed Enter and waited.

They waited for nearly five minutes. The screen told them that the information was processing. Zormna grabbed another sandwich. Even Sicamore took one, munching on it nervously. Only one lay on the plate after that, and that was soon gone, taken by Agent Hayworth who scarfed it down while shaking his head in wonder.

The screen cleared and a bright blue welcome sign flashed onto the screen. The rest was written in Arrassian characters and entirely unreadable to the agents.

"What's that?" Agent Simms exclaimed.

Jeff grinned. "We're in."

Nudging Agent Sicamore out of the seat, Jeff sat down and proceeded to type, expressing his thanks to finally meet men with sense - the usual nonsense the High Class liked to hear. The instant response sent him into a conference room where he could chat with other High Class members and be informed of club meetings.

"What does that say?" Steele pointed to the screen.

Murmurs of agreement came from the other agents in the room.

Jeff continued to type, ignoring them, but Zormna glanced at them and shrugged. She walked to the computer and read the screen, explaining what Jeff was writing.

"...They just asked him if he wanted to attend the last feast of...oh, I completely forgot that it was that time of the year. Jafarr, you don't happen to keep a home calendar with you?"

"Shhh. Don't talk to me. I'm thinking," Jeff replied irritably.

Zormna rolled her eyes and continued to translate. "Anyway, he just said no, that he was busy with business to travel right now. They just gave him his pass-code that we can use from now on. This will get us into their network. Ooh. That will be helpful. Ok, they just let Jafarr access the rest of the site. He's now out of the chat room."

Jeff then pulled out a peculiar flat, pronged card that looked somewhat like an old zip disk, except there were extensions on it that looked like a calculator. Once he shoved it into his zip drive, Jeff punched in a code, or something like it. The card lit up. Jeff typed madly on the computer. The screen itself had pulled up a little window that kept dragging up other windows with information in them. Zormna stared at them, waiting to see what came out of it. Half of the information was in English, including addresses and names from the registrar. The other half was in Arrassian. Jeff kept dragging that off to the side in small windows to watch.

"Zormna, keep an eye on that dialogue box and tell me if they catch on to what I am doing," he said, not looking up from his work.

She nodded, watching a window in the corner that exposed the chat room that he had been in earlier. There was constant dialogue going on there still. They were discussing the new person, yet nothing showed that they were suspicious.

"What is going on?" Agent Simms said, standing up.

Zormna did not take her eyes off the computer. "He's looking for a list of membership. There is a lot of security in this system, and it takes time to weed through."

Jeff would have smiled if he were not so involved in the machine. The printer next to the computer started to hum. Agent Sicamore walked over to it. It began to print up names in English, a whole slew of them, along with addresses and phone numbers. Eric snatched them up from his hands though, glaring at Sicamore as each sheet came.

Jeff then pulled through the files and typed something else on the keypad in the zip disk.

"Oh, Jafarr, I think they noticed that one," Zormna said, still watching the chat screen.

He nodded. "It can't be helped. What are they saying?"

He was still watching the other windows, dragging things to the side that he might want to print off.

She watched a moment. Translating, she said, "They saw a glitch. I think...no. One is going to check it out. Jafarr, you need to get off."

He nodded, but continued typing.

"I think they're searching for our line." Zormna paused. "They're tapping our line, Jafarr." A tone of panic came out in her voice. "They've got an experienced tech guy on their side...."

Jeff punched another button and ripped out the small card from the zip drive. The screen drew blank. They were instantly off the website and staring at a screen about emus.

He leaned back with a satisfied smile. The printer continued to print, giving sheets of addresses and names, ending with a last page that listed meetinghouses and related websites.

Agent Sicamore looked at him. "What was that?"

Eric smiled at him. "That was perfect. You couldn't have ended sooner."

Zormna looked more frazzled than the others. She shook her head as if fighting a headache and the urge to punch Jeff for stressing her out.

The printer stopped.

"That's the lot." Eric said.

Jeff rose from the seat and picked up the last sheet. He smiled at it and then handed it to Sicamore. "This is probably where your killers are."

Agent Simms stood up and snatched at the paper. He looked at it, reading the address. Then he peered at Jeff.

"This is a community club. How do you know the box is there?" he demanded.

Jeff took the paper back with a glare for him. "I don't know, if you come to it. It is only a guess, and a better lead than what you could come up with."

Agent Simms glared at him, but Sicamore pulled at the paper to take a look. It was a community club, but it was in Florida, back near Orlando.

Jeff then plucked up the lists