Chapter Seven
--Evan--
Evan and Ienji exchanged farewells; Evan didn't know his hotel phone number, and he had seen his cell phone crushed between the car wheel with his own eyes--so he received Ienji's apartment phone number and promised to call the kid.
Before he left, he explained that he'd be taking care of a few things tonight but would be certain to give him a call the next day.
As Evan took the elevator down to the ground floor, his thoughts were troubled. The kid looked to be in middle school.... could he leave the kid alone in good conscience? He reflected that he, himself, had been comparable to Ienji's age when he'd been petitioned....
But it would be an understatement to categorize those years as 'rough', and although Ienji seemed unexpectedly mature, Evan knew that'd he would age well enough in the coming years.
Evan considered his plans. It was a Sunday and there was no school, but the school week began the next morning. He would need to prepare....
--Ienji--
Ienji gazed through the apartment windows and out into the night.
He had let his eyes focus on the space beyond the windows for hours now. In that time, he had seen--and felt, he somehow knew--the thunderclouds rolled in slowly and blanketed the city, as if from all sides. Eventually the light had faded and flashes of lightning had become visible upon the horizon.
A few minutes past, the rain had begun to fall.
Ienji's felt that he was different. More somber, maybe.... no, it wasn't that. It was a feeling he couldn't place. It was as if he was not where he was supposed to be. He felt that the world was somehow wrong.
His mother was his legal guardian, but she was never around. He'd didn't particularly mind; he liked having the apartment to himself.
Ienji hadn't spoken aloud since Evan's departure. He had made himself a simple meal, and then spent an hour studying from his mathematics textbook. After a while he had set the volume down and commenced staring out the window.... and he had been doing so ever since.
The rain thundered down. Ienji examined himself, and realized that he felt exceptionally.... solemn, 'mature'. He wondered if he had always been this way, and had simply not noticed until this moment.
No, he mused, I have taken care of myself, and been independent, for some time, but such things do not make a man. I have felt this way since.... since the collision yesterday. Oh, wait.... that happened this morning..
All of a sudden, Ienji felt a bit dizzy. He steadied himself and let it pass.
The clock said it was ten at night. He knew that he must be rested for school in the morning, so he prepared for sleep.
Ten minutes later, he had set his alarm for 7:30 A.M. and had fallen asleep.
--Evan--
His wristwatch read ten after ten, but Evan did not see it. He had been deep in conversation over the telephone for the better part of an hour.
"You can't find anything on the kid? Anything at all?" he said again. "Not even an age?"
He felt her hold back exasperation as she simply restated the explanation. "Siojaton public records are hard copy only--you know we can't leave a trail."
"I know, I know," he sighed. "I don't mean to snap. I just keep wishing I'd only asked the kid his age. It's bad enough that we can't run diagnostics...."
She didn't say anything. He could tell she was thinking.
"You know," she finally said. "I think I have an idea...."
"What's that?" he replied. He didn't need to tell himself to not get his hopes up; he had just spent the last forty-five minutes resigning himself to inaction.
She continued. "You tried to negate the data stream during the forging, right? But it threw off your GD and released a shock wave." He was nodding, even though she couldn't see him. "Well, maybe your digivice has some residual data that could tell us something about what happened."
He responded simply. "Probably, but I don't the means to analyze the data; I'm on another continent, far away from any GD'ed systems."
"Yes," she affirmed, "But maybe we could relay the data between our digivices."
He paused to think for a brief moment, then shook his head. "It's an interesting thought, but I don't see how it would be possible."
"Well, how are you talking me to me?" she replied.
"Wait, you're saying you want to use the phone system? There's no way it could support that. Maybe over cell phones--after all, they use an actual networking and communications protocol--but digivices are too complex. Computers are binary, base two, but digivices are any number of bases, real and non-real. You're the math whiz, you would know."
He sensed her, and felt as though she was making this up as she went along She spoke. "If you focused on delimiting the bases.... like a filter...."
She didn't have to finish; he was already ahead of her. "You know, that just might work. But the converted data would be immense. How could we hope to send it all over the telephone? And don't you think someone at the local telephone service provider might notice something?"
He felt her shrug. "We have time, don't we? And I'll give Rod a call, ask him to sabotage the call monitoring systems, make sure no one picks up on it. You know he's good at that kind of thing," she added.
Evan was nodding unconsciously in comprehension. "Hm.... that just might work. Why don't we give it a try right now?"
He materialized his GD and felt her materialize hers. "One moment," he said as he set the phone down on the floor of the hotel room. He rooted through his backpack until he came across the familiar wires, and hooked his ghost digivice up to the phone line. He picked it back up.
"You ready?" he said into the receiver.
"Of course," she answered.
He probed his digivice and found a few unrecognizable data segments which he identified as the residue of the earlier digital reaction in the library.
Then, he focused on designing a filter to transfer that data through the phone and relay it to Amelia's GD.
A few minutes later, his focus had deepened considerably, and his eyes had fallen closed in the process. He blinked, and noticed that the data was transferring successfully.
"It's working," he said into the phone, with an involuntary smile.
--Evan--
Evan and Ienji exchanged farewells; Evan didn't know his hotel phone number, and he had seen his cell phone crushed between the car wheel with his own eyes--so he received Ienji's apartment phone number and promised to call the kid.
Before he left, he explained that he'd be taking care of a few things tonight but would be certain to give him a call the next day.
As Evan took the elevator down to the ground floor, his thoughts were troubled. The kid looked to be in middle school.... could he leave the kid alone in good conscience? He reflected that he, himself, had been comparable to Ienji's age when he'd been petitioned....
But it would be an understatement to categorize those years as 'rough', and although Ienji seemed unexpectedly mature, Evan knew that'd he would age well enough in the coming years.
Evan considered his plans. It was a Sunday and there was no school, but the school week began the next morning. He would need to prepare....
--Ienji--
Ienji gazed through the apartment windows and out into the night.
He had let his eyes focus on the space beyond the windows for hours now. In that time, he had seen--and felt, he somehow knew--the thunderclouds rolled in slowly and blanketed the city, as if from all sides. Eventually the light had faded and flashes of lightning had become visible upon the horizon.
A few minutes past, the rain had begun to fall.
Ienji's felt that he was different. More somber, maybe.... no, it wasn't that. It was a feeling he couldn't place. It was as if he was not where he was supposed to be. He felt that the world was somehow wrong.
His mother was his legal guardian, but she was never around. He'd didn't particularly mind; he liked having the apartment to himself.
Ienji hadn't spoken aloud since Evan's departure. He had made himself a simple meal, and then spent an hour studying from his mathematics textbook. After a while he had set the volume down and commenced staring out the window.... and he had been doing so ever since.
The rain thundered down. Ienji examined himself, and realized that he felt exceptionally.... solemn, 'mature'. He wondered if he had always been this way, and had simply not noticed until this moment.
No, he mused, I have taken care of myself, and been independent, for some time, but such things do not make a man. I have felt this way since.... since the collision yesterday. Oh, wait.... that happened this morning..
All of a sudden, Ienji felt a bit dizzy. He steadied himself and let it pass.
The clock said it was ten at night. He knew that he must be rested for school in the morning, so he prepared for sleep.
Ten minutes later, he had set his alarm for 7:30 A.M. and had fallen asleep.
--Evan--
His wristwatch read ten after ten, but Evan did not see it. He had been deep in conversation over the telephone for the better part of an hour.
"You can't find anything on the kid? Anything at all?" he said again. "Not even an age?"
He felt her hold back exasperation as she simply restated the explanation. "Siojaton public records are hard copy only--you know we can't leave a trail."
"I know, I know," he sighed. "I don't mean to snap. I just keep wishing I'd only asked the kid his age. It's bad enough that we can't run diagnostics...."
She didn't say anything. He could tell she was thinking.
"You know," she finally said. "I think I have an idea...."
"What's that?" he replied. He didn't need to tell himself to not get his hopes up; he had just spent the last forty-five minutes resigning himself to inaction.
She continued. "You tried to negate the data stream during the forging, right? But it threw off your GD and released a shock wave." He was nodding, even though she couldn't see him. "Well, maybe your digivice has some residual data that could tell us something about what happened."
He responded simply. "Probably, but I don't the means to analyze the data; I'm on another continent, far away from any GD'ed systems."
"Yes," she affirmed, "But maybe we could relay the data between our digivices."
He paused to think for a brief moment, then shook his head. "It's an interesting thought, but I don't see how it would be possible."
"Well, how are you talking me to me?" she replied.
"Wait, you're saying you want to use the phone system? There's no way it could support that. Maybe over cell phones--after all, they use an actual networking and communications protocol--but digivices are too complex. Computers are binary, base two, but digivices are any number of bases, real and non-real. You're the math whiz, you would know."
He sensed her, and felt as though she was making this up as she went along She spoke. "If you focused on delimiting the bases.... like a filter...."
She didn't have to finish; he was already ahead of her. "You know, that just might work. But the converted data would be immense. How could we hope to send it all over the telephone? And don't you think someone at the local telephone service provider might notice something?"
He felt her shrug. "We have time, don't we? And I'll give Rod a call, ask him to sabotage the call monitoring systems, make sure no one picks up on it. You know he's good at that kind of thing," she added.
Evan was nodding unconsciously in comprehension. "Hm.... that just might work. Why don't we give it a try right now?"
He materialized his GD and felt her materialize hers. "One moment," he said as he set the phone down on the floor of the hotel room. He rooted through his backpack until he came across the familiar wires, and hooked his ghost digivice up to the phone line. He picked it back up.
"You ready?" he said into the receiver.
"Of course," she answered.
He probed his digivice and found a few unrecognizable data segments which he identified as the residue of the earlier digital reaction in the library.
Then, he focused on designing a filter to transfer that data through the phone and relay it to Amelia's GD.
A few minutes later, his focus had deepened considerably, and his eyes had fallen closed in the process. He blinked, and noticed that the data was transferring successfully.
"It's working," he said into the phone, with an involuntary smile.