Fiction Victim: Power Source - Chapter 3

Power Source - Chapter 3

There was big empty space on the desk where Max's PC always was. He never moves it, never takes it to work, but I know how important it is to him. He doesn't trust the communal storage at work, so he routes all his data here, to his PC. Oh, God, we should have been so much more careful with our security here!

I dreaded it, but I had to call Max. He will flip when he hears this. I hope he's not driving when I talk to him. I'll ask him to pull over. Better that than him being in the office, though, where they'll be monitoring all calls.

But there is no answer when I call Max, and that is pretty much impossible. He always answers my calls, even if just to tell me he can't talk right now. Once in a while, I call him through the work number — I did once when he left his phone here. So I tried that.

“Hi, please connect me with Max Green”

The voice came back: “I'm sorry Mr Place is not in now.”

“Has he been in?”

“Mr Green has not reported yet today”

Okay, now I'm getting worried. Freaky worried. If he weren't there he would certainly be answering his phone. And he really should have been there by now. What to do? I couldn't call the company — the data on the missing computer was surely a first class violation. The police... well, you never know exactly who they are working for, but in a case like this, you can be damn sure it's not you.

What could have happened? Maybe a crash, though crashes rarely happened, all cars being equipped with crash control. Still, I'll check. The net has no record of any accidents between Stinson Beach and The City. A breakdown? He'd have called. Out of fuel? Not expected for another two weeks, but there's only one power station between here and the city, by Sausalito. Calling them shows no use by Max, no service calls at all. Oh, my god; I suddenly feel so alone. I shiver and K-9 trots over. I let him up on my lap and he turns his heating element up a notch. It feels good.