A Single Source of Truth by Stewart McDonald

Author:Stewart McDonald [McDonald, Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FIVE

Beckford leaned in closer to the screen, the blaring football match and general ambience of the kebab shop fading away around him.

[11:01] *Anon27 has joined #PunkSmiley

[11:01] you hav to stop…

[11:01] theres no way to beat them, they no ur every move.

The user hadn’t said anymore but had remained in the channel. Beckford’s fingers rattled the keys.

[22:34]<Anon199> hello?!!!!

Going by the timestamps of the chat, nearly 12 hours had passed since his mysterious helper had responded. Beckford typed ‘/whois Anon27’ into the chat box, hit enter and information spilled into the main window:

Anon27 is [email protected] * Anon27

Anon27 on #PunkSmiley

Anon27 using *.TTM [www.tork2me.com/]

Anon27 has been idle 14mins 42secs

Anon27 End of WHOIS list

The idle time gave a more accurate reading, showing the last time Anon27 had been active. The other information told Beckford that the website www.tork2me.com wasn’t just a place to host a chat application, but appeared to be an all encompassing server and one that Anon27 was hiding behind. Beckford’s fingers rattled the keys again.

/msg Anon27 WTF? HEY!!!!

The command would send a direct message to Anon27, popping open a new window on their screen and hopefully making a notification sound at the same time, alerting whoever it was to the fact that Beckford was there, waiting impatiently and desperate for answers.

And wait he did. He filled the drawn-out minutes that followed by chewing the skin around his nails and picking the leftover kebab meat out of the tray, which he rinsed down with the rest of his Sprite. Every now and then he’d type “/ping Anon27” that sent a transmission between the two clients to see if a reply bounced back. It did, which meant Anon27 was still online.

When the hoarse voice repeated the question for a second time, Beckford realised it was directed at him and he tilted his head up to the young lads at the counter.

‘Bit late to be doing work, innit pal?’ said one of them. He was young, maybe early twenties. Much too young to be having such a gravelly, worn-out voice. Must be a smoker, Beckford thought. The lad had shoulder-length hair and when he grinned he revealed a missing incisor. He was swaying too, and as he turned to his other two drunken friends they burst into fits of hysterics. About what Beckford had no idea. When he looked back down at his cracked screen his heart leapt into his mouth.

[22:36] <Anon27> hello

Beckford rapidly bashed the keys.

[22:36] <Anon199> who are you?

He sat and waited, oblivious to the fact the long-haired lad at the counter was still looking in his direction.

[22:37] <Anon27> I knew Nikolai

Seeing the name in text like that did all sorts of strange things to Beckford. His emotions flared with delight, but his stomach twisted in fear. Would their text crawlers pick that up?

He quickly minimised his Florida desktop and checked the incoming and outgoing traffic activity on the laptop. It was minimal, with no spikes. Maybe the Tork2Me server was encrypted. He maximised the Florida desktop again.

‘Mate, what are you doin’?’ said the long-haired lad taking a seat opposite him.

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