Volume 1 – Chapter 6: The Visitor

[April 22 – 11:35 AM]

I was disconcerted by the man’s smile.

Too many teeth. Too little warmth.

It felt rehearsed, something he’d rehearsed in a mirror but never meant.

Like a mask stretched too thin across something else — something worse.

“You don’t mean…”

Rika sat straight up in bed, voice acid, cutting.

“Who the hell are you?”

The man bobbed his head slightly, as though entertained, as though all this was theater and not serious business.

“Just came out for a chat,” he replied, breezy, too breezy.

“You expect me to come in there?”

Everything in me screamed no.

Every instinct, every alarm bell ringing in the back of my head told me to close the door, to lock it, to act as if he had never knocked.

But something in him — his demeanor, his ease, his complete lack of concern — made me think it’d take something beyond just shutting the door.

That it might even make the situation worse.

So I stayed firm in the present doorway instead and left the air between us to be.

“What would you like to talk about?”

He squinted slightly, as though he’d thought I would do something different.

Then he raised one hand from his pocket, slow enough not to spook, purposeful in his action.

My muscles tensed, but he simply removed a small black USB stick from his pocket.

He rolled it between his fingers, watching the light glint off the metal almost languidly.

Like this wasn’t a big deal.

As if no one thing could put it all in perspective.

“You’re searching for something, aren’t you?”

His voice was smooth, even. Far too calm.

“Something about the meteor. A way to stop it.”

I faltered.

I paused for half a millisecond.

Rika had been listening closely, so she noticed it immediately.

In an instant her posture shifted from relaxed to defensive as she stood up from the bed taut.

“Who are you?” she said, once more, in a low, careful tone.

He shrugged, unconcerned.

“Just a guy who passes on information.

And… makes certain it winds up in the right hands.”

That wasn’t an answer.

Not really.

I was waiting to pounce; every fiber of me.

“And how much are you going to charge for that?”

The USB drive, which the man squeezed between his thumb and forefinger, he threw in my direction.

It tumbled through the air, a small black figure floating against the dull light of the hall.

I didn’t move to catch it.

It bounced off the ground with a dull plastic thwock.

He smiled — thin, unreadable, nothing like what would pass for sincerity.

“Just… keep being you,” he said plain.

I didn’t like that.

I really didn’t like that.

But if there was anything real on that drive — anything that could help — we needed it.

No matter where it came from.

The man must have interpreted silence as consensus, because he nodded slightly, as if mentally tick-marking something off.

"Hope it helps," he added.

After saying these words, he turned his back and upon the corridor outside the door, he walked slowly away, dragging his feet so slowly along the corridor that every step seemed to resonate with his unconcerned attitude as if he really did have all the time in the world.

When I returned inside, there lay the USB on the floor.

Neither of us had touched it.

We just stood there.

Staring at it.

Then at each other.

And we both had the same thought:

This is either a breakthrough or a trap.

[April 22 – 12:15 PM]

The USB drive remained on my desk, untouched.

I sat in my chair, looking at my laptop screen, fingers above the keyboard not moving.

Rika stood next to me, arms crossed, leaning back against the desk and watching.

“If you run it, we could be tracked,” she said.

"I know."

"It could be a virus."

"I know."

She inhaled loudly and shook her head.

“You’re gonna do it one way or another.”

I finally looked at her, meeting her gaze.

"Yeah."

A pause.

Then she pulled the chair closer, sitting beside me.

“Fine. But if we get hacked and the world ends even faster, I’m blaming you.”

I huffed a small laugh.

“Noted.”

I plugged it in.

The laptop screen flickered for half a second, just enough to make me doubt myself.

But then, a single folder popped up:

Project Eclipse.