Out
"Michael, you have been one of the most loyal staff I have ever had. You have proved yourself time and time again, going far beyond what anyone could have expected of you or asked of you. But, as I said before, we were at a crossroads, we made a decision, took a path. Now we are in a unique situation. So I have made a decision. I will lift the collar. Hattori has found you a small apartment not too far away, the STNJ will pay your rent for one month, so you can take some time if you want. In that time, we will also sort out a regular salary if you want to continue working here. I know this has not been easy, I hope that this will help. If you pack your things up, Hattori and Sakaki will help you move today. Any questions?"
Michael shrugged, shell shocked. The only thing he could think of was
"can I take my laptop with me?"
Kosaka looked vaguely surprised. His face betrayed his "is that all you care about?" thought, but he nodded
"Yes, that shouldn't be a problem. Now, you've got lots to get on with. Dismissed"
Michael rose to leave, his mind reeling. Freedom, a place to live, a choice. More than he had expected, everything he had dreamt of, everything he was terrified of
In his small room, he began packing his few possessions into spare carrier bags. The laptop, his clothes, his small DVD collection, a couple of posters, his copy of the Hacker's Manifesto. Finally, he bundled his collection of CD's, source code for his own projects and his few books, then, reaching up to the wall, he took the note. It was framed in a cheap click frame, one of those ones that holds certificates, that had been lying around a storeroom. He wrapped it carefully in a t shirt and stuffed it in his bag.
When Hattori and Sakaki came to help him, they were both slightly horrified to see his possessions, everything he had accumulated over nearly three years, bundled into four small carrier bags. Silently, though, Sakaki gathered up two, leaving Michael to take the others whilst Hattori led the way to the car park. He drove a short way before stopping
"here we are" he chirped cheerfully.
Michael and Sakaki dutifully climbed out of the battered old automobile, grabbing the bags as Hattori let them into the block. Four flights of stairs later and they stood outside a domestic door, in a corridor lined with identical doors. Only the different numbers distinguished them from each other. Producing another key, Hattori opened the door, letting the three into a sparse one room apartment with a futon in one corner, a kitchen area in another and a TV on a desk by a grimy window. The clerk shrugged apologetically, but handed the keys over with a smile
"welcome home" he said, edging towards the front door. Sakaki followed, touching Michael on the shoulder
"Congratulations" he smiled. He was genuinely pleased to see his friend, the man who saved his life, embarking on a new life himself. Had he looked up at his friend's face, he would have seen a different story, seen fear, apprehension and unwillingness. But he did not. Sakaki was content in his dream that Michael was happy with this new order, because the alternative, that Michael was frightened of freedom, bore too many implications for him as well.
Michael was scared, however. He unpacked automatically, not knowing what else to do. He put his note back up on the wall, arranged his laptop neatly on the desk, making a mental note to dispose of the TV. He did not need it, it was just a brain-numbing distraction. He carefully arranged his CD's and source code printouts, gently stroking the dust off his one textbook, a thick computer security tome, a present from Kate. There was food already in the kitchen area, his bathroom stuff took up very little space and even though the wardrobe was small, his clothes filled less than half of it. Finally, he put some music on and stretched out on the futon, staring up at the ceiling. So this is freedom. He lay for a long time, assimilating, adjusting, thinking. Finally he fell asleep, hit by the sudden exhaustion of change.
The next day Michael awoke, disorientated and confused. Where the hell was he? The disorientation actually produced a sensation similar to seasickness, and he had to lie still until the nausea subsided and he could think straight. The events of the day before hit him suddenly and he remembered.
"now what?" he thought to himself. The thought continued as he showered, dressed and made coffee. He had the day off, that in itself was an unsettling thought, he had not had a day off in so long.
"I should be doing something" he thought, then suddenly realised. He was sitting in front of the laptop, booting it up without thinking. Yes, he could use the Internet, he could do what he had always done, it was there, right in front of him. His safe world, the world where he was powerful, where he knew his way around. His fingers danced unconsciously over keys, setting up connections, configuring hardware, relaxing. They knew this dance, the steps were familiar and they were good at it. But, one thing nagged. A promise made on a cold night, long ago. The kind of promise that results from those conversations that only happen at night, whispered, full of urgency and fear.