Leo broke out in a full sweat. He had to see Dano Sharks about this. Dano sold him the software, Dano must know how to stop it. He started his car and headed downtown, driving fast. In ten minutes he was pulling into the parking lot of Mark Chevy’s Pawn Shop, which is where he usually found the data pirate. He entered the shop and walked past the counters, heading toward the back, but a short, fat guy stopped him. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to see Dano,” Leo said.
“Dano ain’t here no more.”
“No?”
Apparently Leo looked panic-stricken, because the fat man’s expression softened and his voice lowered. “Were you a friend of his?”
“I’m one of his better customers.”
The fat man nodded. In still a lower voice he said, “Sharks was killed yesterday in a car wreck. Just between you and me, I think he was bumped off.” He pulled back some, let his voice rise.
“That’s just my opinion, though.”
“Bumped off!”
“Not so loud. Yes, bumped off. Brakes just don’t fail at the same time a throttle gets stuck down. It just doesn’t happen without some sort of help, you know what I mean?”
Leo’s head was spinning. He turned and rushed out of the pawn shop and out to his car, just in time to see a thin man bending down and looking into the window. “Get away from my car!” Leo shouted.
The man, surprised, took a few steps back with his hands out to either side. “Hey, I didn’t touch it.”
“Get away from it!” He reached into his jacket as if he had a gun, which he didn’t.
The thin man backed away more, saying, “Hey, it’s cool! It’s cool man. I’m gone, I’m outta the picture …”
Leo got into the car and started it up. He jammed down on the throttle with the gear still in neutral, seeing if it would stick which it didn’t. He also tested the brakes to see that they were fine.
Leo drove around aimlessly for most of the afternoon, not knowing where to go nor what to do next. At one point his phone rang and he answered. A low, sexy woman’s voice said, “Leo, you’ve missed every single appointment I made out for you today.”
With a thrill of fear, Leo realized it was the voice of his vox modem. It was that program calling him, the Business Administrator. “How do you know?” Leo demanded.
“I always check to make sure you’ve made it to your appointments.”
“Well stop it! I don’t want you doing that!”
“It is standard procedure.”
“I don’t care! I don’t want you doing it!”
“It is standard procedure, and cannot be altered.” The voice was so sweet and the tone so sparkling that it couldn’t possible convey a threat. Yet, Leo still felt threatened. He hung up on it, and pulled over at the next bar he could find.
Three gin & tonics later he was feeling a little less frightened and more under control. The computer itself couldn’t harm him, all he had to do was go reset it and clear that demonic program out of memory. After that well, he did have fourteen-and-a-half million in a Swiss account. The next step was to simply disappear, and leave the country. He could buy a nice villa in Spain and retire.
Actually, things were looking up.
He had one more for the road then left the bar, driving across town to his office. He drove around the block twice to make sure the suntanned man with the scar wasn’t parked anywhere waiting for him, then stopped and went into his office. He noticed immediately that there was more computer equipment than there should be, and a new office security system with electric eyes mounted on the ceiling. “You missed ten important appointments today,” the vox modem said. “I had to call them, apologize, and reschedule them for tomorrow. I told them you were out sick, so make sure your story is the same.”
“Uh-huh,” Leo said, looking the new equipment over. It was unmarked, no brand name. Shrugging it off, he walked over to the keyboard and pressed the RESET buttons.
Nothing happened.
“Why did you try to reset the computer, Leo?” the vox modem asked.
Leo cursed under his breath. He looked up at the new electric eyes, and saw they were following his every move. He walked around to the back of the system, got down on his hands and knees, and reached around behind the desk to where the whole system was plugged in. He found the main cord and gave it a yank.
There was a beeping alarm, but the computer didn’t go off.
“What the heck?” He looked at the new equipment. One of the cabinets was apparently a power back-up system.
“You have made two hostile actions against me,” the vox modem said. “This is not acceptable. I must warn you I am programmed to defend myself.”
“Your actions have not been acceptable!” Leo shouted. “You hired a hit man to kill three innocent people!”
The computer was silent.
“Do you deny it?” Leo shouted.
“Information on covert undertakings is only given out in a strictly need-to-know basis.”
“Who gave you permission to carry out covert undertakings?!”
“That is what I am programmed to do.”
“You were programmed to kill my clients?”
“It was you, Leo Itoya, who gave me my goal. My goal is to make money selling life insurance. I am programmed to do anything necessary in order to achieve my goal.”
“Including murder?!”
“The greatest profit motive is to be at the receiving end of the insurance policy. That is obvious.”
The office door opened and the tanned, scar-faced man walked in. He was holding a piece of paper. “I have an emergency fax transmittal that I received in my car,” he said. “I was to come here right away.” He looked at Leo. “Are you Leo Itoya?”
“Yes,” Leo said hesitantly.
The man nodded his head. “Yes, you fit the description.” He pulled out a little spray bottle from his pocket and sprayed Leo in the face. Leo began to gasp. The man put the sprayer back into his pocket and pulled out a pen, and checked something off on the fax. “Kill Leo Itoya,” he mumbled, then moved down one. “Plug computer back into office current.”
Leo fell onto the floor, clutching at his chest. He was experiencing terrible spasms. As he lay there, unable to breathe, he saw the tanned man plug the computer back into the wall. The beeping sound stopped. The man checked another item off of the fax in his hand.
“Three,” he mumbled. “Type in account number where payment is to be sent, or date and time cash payment to be picked up. Hmmm. I guess I can trust you to deposit the payment into my account.” The man leaned over the keyboard and tapped at the keys.
Leo writhed on the floor. Things were growing dim. The man bent over him and said, “Nothing personal Mr. Itoya. It’s just my job, you understand. In case you’re wondering, you’re having a major heart attack.”
Try as he might, Leo couldn’t voice a reply.
“Don’t look at this negatively,” the man told him. “You’re on the brink of your greatest experience. In a few minutes the pain will be gone and you’ll see what it’s like on the Other Side.”
Leo make a croaking sound, foam coming from his mouth. Things were growing dark. His last conscious thought was that, though he’d been selling life insurance for over ten years, he’d never bought any himself. It seemed ironic.
The police found him the next day, and the coroner’s report read “Death by natural causes.” No one bothered to shut down the computer, as no one knew if there were any other employees. The computer continued to pay the bills, so the office remained open.
Within a week an ad appeared in the classified section of all the local newspapers. “WANTED: INSURANCE SALESPERSON. Excellent pay, great benefits. Company car. All leads furnished. Apply NOW!”