The tricky medicine (part II)

***

Adrian couldn't find sleep until the early hours of the morning. His head was operating like a giant supercomputer, compulsively processing facts, events, and images pulled from different times and corners of space. All these scattered memories were struggling to settle into a logical structure, seeking an order that remained just out of reach. He had worked his way through the last of his ales, but the intoxicating feeling of something vast, mysterious, and unknown was far more potent than the finest ale.

Eventually, the sheer weight of fatigue and the ale did their job, forcing his overheated brain into a restless slumber. He slept through the entire morning. Yet, the long rest did nothing to quiet the stream of calculations running in the back of his mind; the sleep had been a mere pause, not a stop.

When he finally woke, all his mental processes resumed exactly where they had left off, as if he were simply in a stand-by mode. A dull headache began to throb behind his eyes -- a minor, but annoying issue -- but it wasn't enough to halt his momentum. The curiosity was already pulling him back in.

Adrian was well known for his particular talent -- or as many others called it, simple and very his own 'magic'. It was the ability to weave disparate events and scattered facts into a coherent structure built entirely on logic. This talent was useful in many domains, but it was indispensable in investigations. Whenever something broke, Adrian could restore the chain of events, link the facts, identify the root cause, and provide the full story as if he had been standing there to witness it.

However, this time, something felt fundamentally wrong. The pieces refused to fit together. There was no clear plane of events, no clean alignment of causes, places, or timings. For the first time in his career, the logic was failing him, leaving him staring at a ghost that refused to take a solid shape.

The victim was a person of immense importance, well known to the Board for years. Even if the Board itself were the assassin in this case, the logic simply didn't hold up; there were too many unknown consequences. A fifteen percent stake is a massive share of power -- too large to destabilise on a whim. Yet, the Board remained silent, and more than that, they seemed to have viewed the event as predictable.

Without understanding the internal workflow of the Cluster’s Board, one might stick to the simple theory of a corporate hit, but every other detail pointed elsewhere. The German agents had been nervous, hurried, and almost desperate to grab the body. That haste usually suggested direct involvement, but again, it didn't align with the Board’s typical, calculated behaviour.

Then, another link forced its way into the chain of events: the 'incident' on the habitat had occurred on the exact same day. It looked like a specific, coordinated attack on the German Cluster -- one the Board was already aware of, or perhaps one that someone on the Board was actively fighting. This mysterious entity would have to be incredibly powerful. And finally, the question that refused to be answered: even if this were a corporate war or a sophisticated sabotage ... what was it actually about?

The first thing he did was check his messages. It was a habit that always yielded something -- be it boring, exciting, or just... something. One of the new notifications was from John Berg. At first glance, it seemed entirely unrelated to the case.

Adrian's mind quickly pulled up the 'frames' and content of his last conversation with the man. To Adrian, John was a rare find: a man who truly understood the nuances of fine ales, pubs and, not less importantly, a man who would listen until the very end of a sentence before starting to argue -- or, on some occasions, agree.

His initial instinct was to ignore the message for a while to stay focused on the current case, but being loyal to a friendship, Adrian decided to read the first passage, just in case.

The message began quite simply:

"Hi Adrian, I've been assigned to a case that might be of interest to you. I hope this finds you well. Regards, John."

Despite being deeply immersed in his own thoughts, Adrian decided to perform a quick review of the incoming message's attached data. The case highlighted in the John's message was utterly fresh -- less than forty hours old. The more intriguing part, however, was the core of the incident: the erratic, near-predatory behaviour of a space vessel during the cargo unloading process.

The implications hit him with enough force to knock anyone else back. He immediately tagged the message with the highest priority. His consciousness had already forged a thin, flickering link between this space vessel anomaly and the on-going investigation came from the road. Yet, to properly digest all incoming information and events, Adrian knew he needed more than a hunch. He needed the granular details of the car accident -- and because of the draconian privacy protocols, the window of time was rapidly closing.

Furthermore, Adrian understood that technical logs alone were insufficient; he needed a complete profile of the deceased, her intended route, and her precise timing. By law, every autonomous vehicle was required to broadcast its trajectory, destination, and several specific identification keys to the insurance database registries. A vast, global network of control and monitoring nodes blanketed the Earth to ensure that autonomous driving remained safe, regulated, and -- most importantly -- underwritten.

The only barrier was the privacy protocols.

Only a fragment of the data remained accessible to the investigation process. Crucial details -- the route's final destination, the victim's full biography, and even the identity of the primary insurance carrier -- were strictly shielded. Once these protocols were activated, bypassing them was not merely a violation of law; it was often a technical impossibility, a cryptographic dead end.

Adrian had already extrapolated every potential destination based on the legally available data, but to reach a definitive conclusion, he needed to know the woman's schedule beside the other data. The map and timeline pointed toward several research centres and at least two technology conferences, but under these mounting time constraints, he couldn't afford to investigate them one by one.

To make the violation of privacy protocols technically impossible, the system was designed to wipe all original local storage. However, under the global safety regulations, a narrow grace period existed: the data had to remain on the original hardware for a short window of time before the final purge.

Adrian rapidly calculated the possible outcomes and realised he was trapped in a losing race. He would never reach the physical locations in time to secure the data through legal channels. The only way to win was to intercept the data directly from the control node's storage before the wipe-cycle completed.

"Damn bloody privacy protocols... I'll have to pull the data illegally," the thought sparked in his mind, "but I'll have to move freaking fast."

His fingers flew across the keyboard, navigating the common command-line interface to pull a summary of the accident. He needed two things: the specific address of the sector's control node and the identity of the dispatcher who had been on shift during the impact. He was in luck. The same man was scheduled for the next eight hours. His name was Nick Etalainen.

Adrian locked his array of dull, gray terminals, the screens fading to black like dying embers. He threw on his heavy outdoor gear, calculated journey time one more, and moved toward the exit with practised speed.

"Only three damn hours between me and that information," his mind whispered as he pulled the door shut. "Let's see what you're hiding."

***

Mikko and Virta lay naked in their bed, their breathing finally falling into a flat, rhythmic calm in the aftermath of their intimacy. On the bedside table, two full glasses of wine caught the glow of the room's only lamp -- a low, amber light that cast long shadows into the corners and turned the far walls into a dark void. The air was heavy and warm, thick with the primal scent of human skin and the sharp, slightly sour tang of the wine.

The house hummed faintly around them, the nearly silent vibration of the air conditioning system a reminder of the controlled environment that allowed them to ignore the freezing world outside. Despite the absolute stillness and the exhaustion of the day, sleep remained elusive. Both were wide awake, their minds still tethered to the complexities of their separate worlds.

"Who goes first? Who has the most to share?" Virta asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

Mikko shifted into a reclining position and reached for his wine glass. After a long, thoughtful sip, he said, "I suppose I should start with the incident that has Adrian's mind in a vice. It's a fatality -- literally deadly."

"Those are vanishingly rare these days," Virta noted, her voice dropping an octave.

"Ha! I'd bet your obsessed colleague has already closed the case in his head," she added with a faint smile. "Or, knowing him, he's already found an answer that the rest of us aren't ready to hear." Virta concluded.

Mikko took another sip of wine, then handed the second glass to her.

"No, you’re wrong this time. The case is a mess. From a technical standpoint, the logs are full of anomalies -- I spent hours digging through them without making any real progress. It's a terrifying thing in the machine."

He leaned back, his voice dropping into a calm, steady rhythm.

"The other strange part is the German Cluster's involvement. Their agents appeared at the crash site almost instantly. I'm not ready to accuse them yet, but the timing was ... suspiciously precise. And the victim herself was one of theirs -- a woman, looking remarkably young."

"The road was almost empty," Mikko continued, his voice tight with professional disbelief.

"Every damn sensor on that highway is in perfect condition. The surface is decent -- no slopes, no sharp turns. There was no reason for a failure. But somehow, the automated pilot just ... collapsed. It smashed that vehicle into a concrete fence pillar at full speed."

He stopped, taking another long sip of wine as if trying to wash away the illogic of the event.

Virta took a sip from her own glass, her head tilting slightly as she processed his words.

"Well, I have something for you," she said, her voice quickening, wrapping around the quiet space of the room like a tether.

"I've been stuck with the Germans almost all the time during the last summit. And they're behaving errantly because of yet another incident -- another one that was literally deadly, too." she continued.

Mikko was not a man of outward expression; usually, his face remained a mask of professional stoicism regardless of the circumstances. But this time, his composure cracked. His jaw tightened, and a look of genuine shock flickered in his eyes.

"Oh, it wasn't quite as dramatic as your case," Virta said softly, leaning in to give him a light, reassuring kiss.

"It was a heart attack. One of the lead M.D.s working on the advanced life-extension program. He'd likely been feeling unwell for days leading up to it... but the timing is what haunts me now. He only managed to deliver one presentation from his research. The second one -- the main one as I understood -- he suddenly cancelled the very day before he died." she said, taking a short, deep breath.

Mikko's expression was a rare knot of confusion and intense interest. He tilted his glass to take a sip, only to find it was already empty.

"Damn, it's completely empty. I'd better bring the bottle," he said, moving quickly as he slid out from under the covers.

He walked to the kitchen, his bare feet silent on the temperature-regulated floor. As he searched for the wine, the subtle hum of the house felt louder in the absence of their conversation.

"Let me guess," his voice echoed back from the kitchen, sharp and resonant.

"He was a German Cluster man too, wasn't he?" Mikko asked.

"Actually, that's where you're wrong," Virta called out, projecting her voice to ensure every word reached the kitchen.

"He was French Cluster man -- his name was Hugo Moreau. But in a sense, you're still right; he was working on behalf of a German Cluster laboratory under a specialised research contract."

Mikko returned from the kitchen, the dark green bottle in hand. He refilled his own glass and then topped off Virta's, the sound of the liquid pouring being the only noise in the quiet room.

"Hmm. So at least there isn't a mystery there," Mikko said, his shoulders dropping as he tried to relax back into the pillows. "A standard inter-Cluster talent partnership."

Virta took a slow sip of the fresh wine, then set her glass back on the bedside table with a soft clack.

"No, Mikko. You're wrong again... and again," she said, a small, knowing giggle escaping her lips.

"Because of that specific contract, the German Cluster agents are officially responsible for investigating the root cause of his death. At least, that's the public line," Virta continued.

She leaned back against the headboard. "And there's one more thing -- they announced a high-level figure from the German directorate who had been personally overseeing his research. It was a strange, almost antique and rare name... Lizzie..." she said, her voice carrying the quiet weight of a detail she guess was very important.

"Lizzie fucking Wolters!" Mikko shouted, his voice cracking the silence of the room like a gunshot as he cut her off.

Virta jumped slightly, her eyes wide with genuine shock. "How do you know that name?"

"Oh my... that's her. That’s our victim. The one who smashed into the concrete fence pillar at full speed," Mikko stammered, his calm facade finally shattering. "Shite, I have to inform Adrian immediately!"

He barked the words as he scrambled out of bed, the sudden movement nearly knocking his wine glass over. The intimate warmth of the room vanished, replaced by the electric, panicked energy of a man who realised he was standing in the middle of an events chain that spanned from the Earth's highways to the depths of a German Cluster research projects.