Most people think debugging software is about fixing a mistake, but that's bullshit. Debugging's actually all about finding the bug, about understanding why the bug was there to begin with, about knowing that its existence was no accident. I don't know why I'm saying this, maybe it's cause of what they've got me pumped up on or maybe it's because it is a bug flyting towards me, gumming up the works until I'm forced to make a call. Kill me or embrace me. Or maybe I'm just freaking out because I never thought I'd wake up to find these two women staring back at me. The fly lands on my hand and I twitch my fingers to get it to fly away. Tara and Krista are staring at me intently.
"Are you alright?" Tara asks, her voice shaking.
"I don't know," I tell her. "What are you doing here?"
"We talked a few hours ago. You don't remember telling them to call Krista?" She tries to explain, but I don't understand. "Well you can't leave until you talk to a psychiatrist, so I'll wait outside."
"Do you remember requesting me from the staff?" Krista asks. "You requested me because the police say-"
"-that I jumped," I interrupt her, it's starting to come back. I wave my hand dismissively. "By a bunch of kids. Not the end of the world."
"They wanted to do a full drug panel and you refused. May I ask why?"
I turn my head away. Never tell a doctor you're on drugs unless they gave you the prescription.
"Elliot," she threatens like a mother. "If we can't have a conversation about this…"
"I've been taking morphine," I admit.
"Why?" she presses.
The light hurts and I want to go back to sleep. "I don't have a good enough reason to give you. I wish I did but I don't."
"Maybe we should consider rehab," Krista suggests.
"I'm not a junkie," I protest.
"Then you need to prove it to me. Submit a bimonthly drug test voluntarily. That's the only way I'm going to recommend your release," she states her terms.
I just want Tara to take me home. Hospitals like this are almost too easy to hack. William Highsmith is the IT department here. He's also an idiot. Not that I blame him because the people that hired him are also idiots. He gets a budget of about 7000 bucks a year and he's supposed to protect their network from people like me? He never stood a chance. It's one of the reasons I made this place my primary care facility. I can make my health records look like every other obedient zombie out there.
"Okay, you don't have to worry, I'm not gonna do morphine again." The lie was the easiest one yet.
1010011010
I sign some papers and they finally let me leave with Tara. We stop at a convenience store after we get off the subway because I can't remember the last time I had eaten. I ask for some cigarettes and pick out a five-hour energy.
"That's your breakfast?" Tara crinkles her nose. She grabs a Clif bar from the shelves under the counter and hits me with it playfully. "You need food."
She puts it on the counter and before I can pull out my credit card, she's thrown a crumpled bill on the counter along with the food.
I eat as we walk, weaving in and out of people on the sidewalk. "Have you finished moving in yet or did you not have anything left at Ange's?" I ask. She never gave me an answer about officially moving in, but she was already practically my roommate.
"I brought over a pillow, a razor, and a box of tampons." She chuckles and I can't help but to smile. She did tell me it was different actually living with somebody instead of just sleeping over.
We run into Shayla at the top of the stairs and she looks like she's been tweaking. "She used to be my emergency contact until I started spending all my time with you," I feel the need to tell Tara.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" she stops us. "Did you have something to do with Vera getting busted? Shit, Elliot, you said you weren't gonna do anything. He's on murder charges," she tells us. "Did you know that his whole crew bounced? I don't know what I'm gonna do for money now. Just tell me, Elliot and don't lie: did you do something?"
"No," I lie. "Are-are you okay, from everything?"
"I'm fine," she brushes me off. "What happened to your door?"
She's right, the door had been broken into. Slowly, I push it open and see Darlene sitting on my couch reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette.
"You're not supposed to be here," I walk up to her, not even thinking about it as a confrontation. "I changed the locks for a reason."
She shows me a picture in the magazine. "Jessica Alba says she wants to join ," she laughs. "Jesus, what happened to your face?"
"What the fuck is going on?" Tara demands.
"You need to leave," I tell Darlene again.
She looks at Tara and sneers. "Babe, not to be mean, but we have a lot of serious shit to discuss so if you wouldn't mind-"
I step in front of Tara defensively. "Get out," I snarl.
Clearly pissed, she gets up and heads to the door. "I suggest you get a grip."
I'm relieved that she's gone and go to pick up my backpack. "I gotta get to work."
"Work?" Shayla's voice nearly cracks. "You can't go to work!"
"Elliot, you could have died," Tara feels the need to remind me.
"I have to go!" I tell them again and leave them standing in the middle of the room with Flipper yapping. A bug is never just a mistake. It represents something bigger, a manner of thinking that makes you who you are.
1010011010
Gideon calls me into his office with Lloyd, Ange, and Ollie. "It's not enough just to focus your attention on the log," he explains to us about the security breech. "We should also monitor social media traffic as well as IRC. Set up scripts and keep going 24/7. We might get lucky. They might get sloppy and make a mistake."
This is the world we live in, people relying on each other's mistakes; manipulate one another, use one another, to relate to one another: the warm, messy circle of humanity.
"Elliot!" Gideon interrupts. "I'm, uh inviting you guys to dinner. Morton's notwithstanding, I cook a mean steak." I look at him. "What? Can't a boss invite his favorite employees to dinner?"
"No, no, that's cool, but I have plans," I lie followed by awkward silence.
"Can you guys give us a minute?" he asks and the other three file out. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
"Not really," I answer truthfully.
"You're missing work. You come in looking like that and you expect me not to ask questions? Look, I don't know how much you want me asking about your personal life-"
"Not at all actually," I interrupt. "I don't mean to be rude. I'm just being honest." I leave his office. Mr. Robot may have found Evil Corp's bug, but he didn't find mine. That's the only way to protect myself; never show them my source code. Close myself off. Create my cold, perfect maze where no one can ever find me. There's a man sitting at my desk. Shit.
"Elliot!" he grins up at me. "I cannot believe you work here. This place is a shithole. Though I'd swing by, take you to lunch." One of my coworkers walks by in a tight pencil skirt. "Ooo that's nice," he comments. "I think she likes ya, bud. Fine," he keeps going even when I glare at him. It works on everybody else, why not him? "But let the record show, I was trying to be a good wingman."
I grab him by his collar and lift him out of my chair.
"Woah, calm down. I'm not that into redheads anyway," he laughs. "Whole nation of Ireland makes my dick go soft."
"Leave," I demand.
"Darlene said we need to talk," he explains.
"Leave now."
"You're right," he nods his head eagerly. "We probably shouldn't talk here. Let's go to that bar next door."
I set him down and let him go. "I'm not leaving."
"And I'm not going anywhere until you do. So, I can stay here and cause a scene or you can give me five minutes at the bar next door." He keeps getting closer as he speaks. "Either way I'm gonna have fun; dealer's choice."
I begrudgingly follow him to the bar. There's one other person there and I can't help but wonder what's wrong with him that he's having a liquid lunch. I glare at Mr. Robot.
"What?" he points to his green drink. "It's an appletini."
"I should kick your ass," I say.
"If that'll make us square, you have my blessing," he continues sipping his drink, unperturbed.
"I really want nothing to do with you." He doesn't seem to get it.
"What can I get for you?" the bartender asks.
I didn't want anything when he ordered, I don't want anything now. "Um, nothing?"
"I recommend this," the asshole says.
"Fine, I'll uh have an appletini." What the fuck.
I down the drink like a shot and even that gets a comment from the older man.
"I don't think you enjoyed it. You're supposed to sip it," he says with a stupid grin sideways on his face.
"What do you want?" I demand having lost all my patience.
"I'm sorry about what I did," he tries to apologize.
I push the glass away from me. "I don't buy it. More importantly, I don't give a shit."
"I never wanted to hurt you," he tried again. "Your dad probably felt shitty for what he did. Probably wanted to apologize too. Sometimes pushing a kid away is just easier. Don't stay mad at him too long, kiddo." He gets up and walks to the door.
"You're leaving?" I follow him.
"That's what you want isn't it?"
"What about your plan?" I have to ask.
"Plan? You're the key to the whole thing. Without you there is no plan," he explains.
There's no way that's it. "That's it?" I have to ask again. "It's over. You expect me to believe that."
"See you in another life." He puts his hat on and disappears.
Did you heart that? I can't believe it. Is this really happening? 's finally over. I'll never slip up like that again. I'm gonna be more normal now. I'll go see those stupid Marvel movies with Tara. I'll join a gym. I'll heart things on Instagram. I'll drink vanilla lattes. I'm gonna lead a bug free life from now on. Anything to protect my perfect maze.
I get back to the office and head straight for Gideon's office. "Hey Gideon, is that dinner still on for tonight?" I ask.
He's taken aback. "Um, yeah. Sure. You wanna come?"
"Yeah," I grin at him. "Can I bring my girlfriend?" That's what normal people do, right? Bring their significant others to functions.
"You have a girlfriend?" he raises his eyebrows.
"Well, kinda," I admit. I had never really thought about Tara as my girlfriend, but I wanted to bring her to this thing. But we kinda live together, we get high together, we've watch movies, we have sex. Isn't that what a relationship is?
"Yeah, sure, perfect," Gideon agrees.
I can do this. "Thanks."
1010011010
I get home and Tara is high as a kite, but Flipper hasn't shat anywhere so at least she remember to take him out. I sit down on the sofa and she leans on me. I notice her sketchbook on the table and pick it up.
"My boss invited me to a dinner party at his house tonight. I thought you could come," I tell her and open the book.
"Why did you say yes?" she sighs. I should have known she wouldn't want to go.
The most recent drawing is of me sleeping in the hospital. "I need you," I try to explain. "I'm not good in social situations like that."
"And you think I am?" she laughs.
I thumb backwards through the pages. A couple are of my back in front of my computer. I had never noticed her drawing me. All of the sketches were of people, some of Ange, some of random people on the subway. Others must have come into the library. They were beautiful and they all looked happy. Nobody looks that happy. I thought I had solved her maze, but these drawings suggested there was more. "You know how to talk to people, you just choose not to. I don't know how to and I need the support."
"Fine, for you," she sighs. "But I'm not dressing up."
1010011010
Ollie and Angela are already standing outside when Tara and I get to Gideon's. Lloyd appears shortly after, bouncing with excitement.
"What up guys! Did you just get here?" he grins.
"Nice suit," Ollie checks him out.
"What is up with you? You've been fidgeting all night," Ange says, but is ignored.
Ollie, clearly annoyed tried the doorbell again and then pounded on the door.
Gideon isn't the one who answers. This must be his boyfriend? Husband? "Hey guys, how long have you been standing out here? The doorbell is broken, I should have warned you. Come in! I'm Harry, by the way."
We are all served wine and form a circle around the counter in the kitchen. I stand behind Tara because there aren't enough barstools for everyone. What now? I don't know if I'm supposed to say something, but luckily Harry begins asking everyone questions.
"Ollie, how long have you guys been together?" Harry looks over towards the couple.
"About two and a half years," he answers.
"-two years," Ange answers at the same time.
They act like they didn't notice that they had different answers, but I noticed. We all did and the awkward level rose drastically.
"Elliot, how long have you and Tara been together?" he tries again with us.
Shit. I never even asked her out. "Well, uh," I begin fidgeting. Maybe Tara will pipe in, confirm whatever it is we are. "A little while," I mumble into my hands when she doesn't.
It was extremely tense now and I wasn't sure if I could stand it much longer. Tara reaches back and my fingers find hers. At least we're nervous together.
"Okay, enough grilling of the guests," Gideon saves us. "Let's check on the real grill; Elliot, I could you your help."
He pulled me away so he could talk to me about the hackers. I knew this before he even opens his mouth. "So Elliot, I have a confession. I had an assistant in Dallas check that server again. Of course there was nothing. I have no idea what there was even to be suspicious about and what possible motivation would you have to do anything."
He has to let this go. If he goes anywhere near this hornet's nest I'm not sure if I can save him from it. I have to kill any suspicion left.
"You've been nothing but a hard worker for Allsafe," he continues. "So I apologize."
"After the conversation on the plane I knew what was at stake, the company," I lie. "I was worried that the dat file I found wasn't the right one and I just didn't want to get your hopes up in case I was wrong. That's why I didn't tell you before the meeting." Shit, I'm gonna have to let him hug me, aren't I?
"You're a brilliant engineer, Elliot," he says after pulling away from an awkward embrace. "You should never doubt your skills no matter how much pressure I put on you and you certainly don't have to keep anything from me. I care about you."
But he doesn't even know me.
1010011010
Dinner ends and everyone goes into the living room to keep talking. I break away and sit by the window, looking at the brilliant view of the city. Ange comes over and joins me. Soon, we're reminiscing about being kids. Everything was so much simpler then.
"Remember when we thought we were going to The Met?" I asked. "Somehow we ended up at the Queen's museum. No google maps back then."
"You wanted to bring Tara, but I said she'd just slow us down," Ange laughs. "I loved running away with you. Somehow when you're eight running is always fun."
The normal life, smile. Dinner parties. Childhood stories. I could get used to this. Maybe even like it. But nothing good lasts. My phone buzzes and I look at a text from an unknown number. It tells me to turn on the news. I stand up quickly and do as it says, hitting the power button on Gideon's TV remote.
"What's wrong?" Ange asks, but I don't answer.
The news anchor is reporting on Colby about the security hacks. Apparently, he is one of three Evil Corp execs that covered up the toxic waste scandal that killed my dad and Tara and Ange's mother. That ruined families.
My perfect maze crumbling before my eyes. There's nothing to hide behind. I didn't think it existed, but there it was is. He finally found my bug. I turn around and everyone is silently staring at me. I look to Tara and then to Ange and run out. The bug forces the software to adapt, evolve into something new because of it, work around it or work through it, no matter what. It changes, becomes something new. The next version. The inevitable upgrade.
I have to get back to . It's still early enough that I'm not alone on the train, but there's no black suits in sight. Inside the arcade, Darlene is playing ski ball and Mr. Robot is reading, neither of them notice me at first, but soon they all turn and stare. Without a word, I pull my laptop out of my backpack. We plug it into the network and I sit down in front of it.
"Here's the plan," I tell them as they all stand to look over my shoulder at the screen.