Bher

The response came in from IT. It was odd. It said: "You yourself requested these changes last night. Please let us know if that was in error."

Javan read the message and wondered why Vadstalle would choose to limit his own access, especially in the middle of an investigation that was promising to be larger than anything he and Javan had ever worked on.

She read the message one more time, but as she read it, it started to crackle and fall apart. The words flickered out, being replaced by garbled gibberish. 

Then it all came back to her. She had requested the permission changes on behalf of Vadstalle. It made perfect sense now. She had to do it, after all, because Vadstalle was getting closer and closer to unearthing the monster. That tip from JC was enough to get him digging in places better left alone, and she had to put a stop to it.

After watching him compile a stronger and stronger case all last night, she had to act. She'd sent the correct requests to limit his access to all of the cases he'd been searching and annotating. She'd wiped his annotations, and corrupted the file he'd built for good measure.

She had to stop him from tracing it back to its origin. She had to keep him from discovering the deadly pattern. She had to enforce the White Noise Protocol.

The world hissed with static around her. The response was gone. In its place, she constructed a fake response. "We're looking into it. We'll get back to you by tomorrow." She found that with the White Noise Protocol, she could access parts of the precinct's system she couldn't previously access. She was able to digitally sign the message so it looked legitimate. Not even one of the nerds in IT would have been able to prove it as a false document.

The power flowed through her, and she thought she'd take steps further to help thwart a recreation of Vadstalle's notes.

"Hello, Lockie," she said.

"Hello, Detective Javan," said Lockie. "I see you're visiting me in digital space. What can I help you with today?"

She beamed a list of case numbers to him. "Please, dispose of all the evidence you currently have on file for all of these cases."

"I'm going to need sufficient clearance to execute this order," Lockie said.

Though the space was digital, Javan manifested a door and several windows within it. Each one popped open with a loud bang. Snow blew in from outside, carried on a violent gale. The room filled with the hiss of snow and static.

"YOU DO NOT NEED CLEARANCE," Javan said with a voice that was not her own.

Lockie nodded. "Of course, Detective Javan." He waved his hand, and behind him, the icons representing several evidence lockers flickered out of existence. "Will that be all?"

"I WAS NEVER HERE," she said, again with a voice not her own.

Lockie nodded.

Javan disappeared from the digital space in a tornado of snow. When it was gone, so was she, and Lockie just sat there, trying to wonder why he was running a few minutes late on one of his automated tasks.

Returning back to her own realm, she went down the open investigations and began to close them, one after another, giving each one reasonable dates in the past, avoiding any sort of pattern that might be discoverable by forensic analysis.

She leaned back and admired her work. Almost as if these crimes never happened.

"Case closed," she said with a virtual smile.

Then the static faded. She had the faint feeling that she was supposed to be doing something. She looked at the clock. Where had the time gone? 

She saw that there was a new message from IT. She frowned when she read it. "Rick's not going to like this," she said. Still, she had to let him know. "Rick," she said. "I got word back from IT. They're looking into it."

Vadstalle swore. "I'm about to go down to their tech dungeon and ring their pencil necks." He tapped at his keyboard and swore again. "Now I can't even find the cases I couldn't access. What in the nine realms is going on?"

He got up from his desk and started marching toward the stairway.

"Rick, where are you going?" Javan asked.

"I'm going to get this worked out in person," he said. "Bypass all that garbage in the system." He opened the door to the stairwell and started hopping down the stairs two at a time. "By the time I get there, there'll be Hel to pay," he uttered.

The static hiss started to rise once more. Javan knew she had to stop Vadstalle.

"I can't let you do that, Rick," she said.

Vadstalle marched right up to the door to the IT room. He was oblivious to what she'd said. He pressed against the door handle. The border of the door glowed red, and it wouldn't budge.

"I've locked the door," said Javan. "You're getting too obsessed with this case. I'm worried about you, Rick. Your biometric data indicates that you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Please, consider taking some time off."

"What are you going on about, Bher?" he said. He started pounding on the door. "Hey, open up in there."

"You're leaving me with no other choice," Javan said. "Step away from the door this instant."

Vadstalle ignored her and kept pounding on the door. Javan peeked inside the room. All the nerds were wearing headphones, so she amplified the volume and increased the noise cancellation.

"Last chance, Rick," she said.

He gave the door one more pound and a kick and swore before collapsing to the floor in a spasm.

"I didn't want to do that, Rick," she said. "But you left me with no other choice."

Vadstalle was barely conscious. He gurgled something.

"You need a break," she said in response. "I've notified the infirmary, and they'll be here shortly. Now all we have to do is wait."

She felt Vadstalle slip into unconsciousness, and then she was alone.

A notification came in. It wasn't for Vadstalle. It was for her. It was from Vomisa.

"Detective Javan, we have completed repairs to your body. Aside from regrowing new skin, it's completely functional. Please let us know when you're ready for it."

Having nothing better to do while she waited for the medics to arrive, she sent a response. "ASAP," she wrote. And then the snow started to drift away.

"Rick?" she said. "What happened?" She went to page the infirmary, but saw that there was already an open request. Maybe things got jumbled when he fell to the floor. She hoped he didn't hit his head too hard when he fell.