Page 5 of Deep Fake

“What have you done so far? I’m assuming you have in-house coders and other programming staff who handle any issues? And there are services who can get in and find out what’s wrong or deal?” Really, this was going to be a simple job, and not one they needed me for.

“We do, and they’ve tried, but whoever did this had skills beyond our people. And as to outside services? With our particular type of service, we have to be particular about who we let into our files. This is why I want to be sure you are comfortable working with shifters. Or, if you’d rather not, we understand and hope you can refer us to someone else. Because if this is not dealt with, we’re out of business.”

“Let me put your minds at rest. I often work for shifters.” And that was all they needed to know. I had no shame about my own status or heritage, but the work I did compelled me to release as little information as possible. “Now, I’ll need access to everything.”

“But we cannot release our clients’ information…”

“If you want me to find where these people or possibly even an AI source are climbing into your system, I am requiring your permission to dive into every dark corner. I could do it now without, but what would be the point of working for you and doing it behind your back?”

In the end, of course, they allowed me to do what I needed. They’d already tried the other resources available to them with no results. Before I even got in, I had some ideas about where the hack came from, but assuming could send me down the wrong path, so I had some long nights ahead of me, most likely. Not that I minded at all. I loved a puzzle.

After working for a few hours, I was starting to make real progress. Even beginning to wonder why the in-house staff at the dating service had such trouble. Could this be a red herring? A talented operator would definitely insert some of those.

And then it happened.

A private message via a forum I had up on one of my screens.

“I need help. I’m being stalked.”

“I’m not—”

“Please, I don’t know who else to ask.”

Lost in the work, I didn’t know what to do, but I didn’t take random jobs. I had made too many enemies for that, and after a few more polite attempts to discourage them, I said, “You can’t afford me.” I blocked them and returned to my job. Enemy in disguise or just foolish amateur, I didn’t have time for them.

Chapter Five

Malone

I surrendered to the fear sometime after getting on the web and being absolutely shut down by the one person I felt might be able to unscramble this mess I was in.

A man with a name like Sketch said I couldn’t afford him.

Then he blocked me.

A man named Sketch thought I was a gamble and said I couldn’t pay before telling me how much he cost. Honestly, I’d considered selling an organ to get this shadow off my back.

My phone stayed on silent now. I was well aware that the messages and now phone calls poured in by the second, but if it was on silent, well, an omega could pretend.

At least I was feeding myself again and walking, if only to the market.

“Morning, Malone,” the cashier said as the bell above the door rang. The place was local, run by an older couple. Could I walk a little farther and get more variety and save a bit of money at the corporate store? Yes. Would I? Not unless I had to.

“Good morning.”

Another thing. I was up before noon. Funny how eating and moving and actually getting some sleep improved your life. I had to take a pill to help me get said sleep, but it was working.

After filling my cart with what I needed but no more than I could carry, I checked out and went on my way.

I had one bag in each hand when a scampering noise stopped me in my tracks. Tiny nails scraping on the concrete below. The chittering of teeth. A little noise that sounded like a rat. I’d once lived in the city, and those things could get as big as a housecat. “What in the world?”

I put my bags on the ground at my sides and bent down to see not a rat but also not any animal I recognized immediately. Its fur was white and looked soft. The eyes were black and beady, outlined by a light-brown mask.

A mask.

“Oh, you must be a raccoon. You’re very skinny for a racoon and long.” Jeez, maybe I needed to get out more. Hiking or something that involved basic animal recognition. “What are you?”

Crouching to get lower, I reached out to touch him but then thought better. What if the little guy had rabies or something else?