Tales From Earth:ilovenatalie.exe

Natalie had been missing for days; everyone worried himself or herself sick for her, as they hadn’t seen heads or tails of her for three weeks. Ads in the paper, appearances on television, cash rewards for accurate help; nothing had worked. The entire Hilsenrod family was struck with anxiety and sadness. But nobody, not even Natalie’s own blood relatives, felt the pain that William felt.

William had supported Natalie’s decision to work for the Wexler Biotechnology Co., even if it meant only coming home on the major holidays. She would always write from her base, the specific lab where she and a few other scientists from around the world toiled night and day in search of various cures. It was definitely taxing on their marriage, but the distance only made their love stronger, helping to keep it alive.

But now, things had gone horribly wrong. Three weeks earlier, Base 9 had caught on fire, and all the staff that was working there, including Natalie, had gone missing. Once the fire had been put out and the damage assessed, no signs of any workers, nor a handful of research documents, could be found. But, one deduction was made very clear by the investigators: it was no accident that the compound went aflame.

William wrapped his arms in as comforting a hug as he could muster around Natalie’s mother as she continued on another fit of bawling. As much as he could sympathize with the rest of her family, the constant air of sadness was getting to him. All the memories, concerns, what-ifs, what-weres, what-could-have-beens; it was simply too much for William to bear for so long in one sitting.

He told the Hilsenrod family he was going to take a nice, long walk through Battery Park; perhaps the cool, autumn New York air could clear his mind and soothe his nerves. He donned his favorite brown jacket, left it unzipped, and meandered out of the apartment’s lobby in the park’s general direction, furrowed brow and panicking imagination in tow.

The light breeze blowing in his face was helping him relax. His shocks of dark brown hair swayed back ever so slightly, and William was lost in the moment. He had always loved New York City; the experience of being alone among so many people, and happy about it, would constant bring a light smile to his chapped lips. As the fall rainbow peered its way around the corner, he ambled along to the mouth of the nearest walkway, finally in the little safe haven he knew so well.

The state of affairs still weighed heavy on his mind, so he sat down on a convenient bench along the path. The wood creaked in welcome of William’s body, acclimating to his weight and holding him as he sat. He flung his head back, sighed, and took deep breaths of the chilled air around him; pragmatic meditation, one might say.

Minutes passed uneventfully, save for the occasional passerby, fantastically unconcerned with what William was doing. He was well relaxed, if not quite ready to return either to Natalie’s parent’s apartment, or his own. It was a blissful period of floating, detaching himself from the tethers of his chaos, if even just temporarily. At least that was the case until an older man sat down on the other end of the bench.

A fair period of silence passed between the two, until the man began studying William’s face intently. He was desperately trying to recall where he had seen William before, racking his brain and squinting thoughtfully. Then, it struck him very suddenly, prompting him to ask, “Sorry, but are you that guy whose wife got lost in that big Wexler fire?”

Grudgingly pulled from his makeshift zen, he rubbed his eyes and mumbled, “Yeah, why?”

“I saw you on television; hey, tough break, I hope things turn out alright.”

“So do I, believe me,” retorted William with a sliver of distaste in his tone.

“Well now, that’s no way to talk to well-wishers, kid.”

“No way to talk to twenty-something adults, old fart.”

“Cheek. Well, regardless, I think you might want this.”

The man opened a briefcase he had placed on the side opposite William, out of his view, and produced a piece of paper. It was a long string of three-digit numbers organized in a grid.

William took it, pondered over it, and then leered aghast as the meaning of the paper came to him. He recognized the pattern almost instantly as the emergency code he and Natalie shared, in case anything ever happened to one of them.

William glanced back and forth between the paper and the unknown man, his mind racing back to the present crisis at hand, and how crucial this paper was. Eventually he regained his senses enough to ask the gentleman, “Where the hell did you get this? How did you find me?”

At this, the mystery man leaned in and spoke very, very low. “I’m a colleague of your wife’s, the name’s Carter.”

“Carter Ford?”

“Yeah.”

“Natalie mentioned your name from time to time, aren’t you the supervisor of her base?”

“Bingo. I’m one of them, at least. I was off the work cycle that day when I received a fax from the lab. It was Natalie, she wrote that the guards in the lab staged a takeover and abducted most of the scientists. She was barely able to get the message to me before they got her and wrecked the base, I guess. I messaged her back with no response. That was all she sent, other than this grid and the clear instructions to find you in New York and make sure you got this.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Carter.”

“No problem. I know that the safety of my team is in danger, and I especially would hate to see Natalie in trouble, she’s one of the finest researchers we’ve got.”

“Alright, but I need the key. Did she give you that?”

“Nope,” Carter announced sternly.

“What?! You rotten bastard, what I am supposed to do?!”

“Wait for a while, I know you’ll get the key.”

With a sigh, William relented. “You’re right, sending a code and key at the same time is stupid, even in a panic, Natalie would know better.”

“Well, take care of yourself, kid.”

“You too, old fart.”

“Until we meet again.”

“When’s that?”

“Beats me,” Carter gleefully chirped.

With that, Carter shifted himself upright from the bench. As he closed and picked up his briefcase, the bench creaked its goodbye, and he walked quickly away. Will sat dumbfounded as he desperately tried to piece everything that just happened together with the situation. It sloshed about in his mind like a restless tide, each wave dredging different thoughts.

And then it all clicked in William’s mind: the code, the key, and the message were all before him. He jolted from the bench, folded the paper neatly in his pocket, and dashed for the subway entrance he passed on the way in, hoping to catch the soonest train home.

On arrival, William scrambled to his computer, booted up, and immediately scanned the numbers into an image and grafted the grid into type. From there, he dug deep into his file directory and pulled out what would open the way to an adventure the likes of which he was totally unprepared for.

ilovenatalie.exe.

He dragged the text into the window, entered the key, and watched the message unravel letter by letter before his eyes. The sheer immensity of what William now faced was so much that he was dumbstruck at what he read. Once he escaped the trance of his disbelief, he immediately booked the soonest possible coach flight out of JFK or LaGuardia, and began packing hastily for tomorrow night.

333	428	088	050	013	510	027	304	121	137	220	013	103	010	010	222
230	015	318	150	220	561	050	222	005	077	615	007	150	005	010	341
413	015	220	150	026	586	121	140	005	072	220	015	181	005	200	428
483	077	440	100	220	586	115	057	005	077	165	005	150	022	080	077
023	062	318	100	206	250	115	318	110	005	484	010	140	015	010	341
516	134	121	020	013	535	027	086	083	126	341	004	126	023	220	150
540	237	066	160	323	137	110	072	022	088	286	001	118	021	220	253
540	325	121	210	220	352	027	028	005	016	484	005	150	010	010	206
483	015	318	170	170	137	115	085	110	083	318	014	214	013	010	031
516	253	186	160	170	112	027	347	027	110	615	016	118	005	010	341
516	134	121	230	206	250	121	072	022	077	022	022	070	016	150	325
460	015	341	210	220	352	033	336	110	005	066	008	007	020	070	077
380	103	363	150	066	474	132	014	022	110	220	013	103	010	160	237
103	253	286	130	013	510	115	401	083	126	187	001	181	005	220	253
150	150	341	040	183	708	066	014	011	088	022	020	165	015	050	310
150	310	242	140	286	224	027	028	005	115	121	013	038	025	100	325
023	237	088	060	130	387	033	236	126	121	187	016	188	027	160	356
070	015	341	150	066	586	121	280	005	066	220	028	038	022	080	077
173	077	440	140	267	250	088	280	005	148	615	016	173	003	010	237
150	150	341	040	116	250	072	028	027	033	363	020	027	022	080	077
070	253	318	170	013	387	148	014	038	027	341	022	157	004	160	150
276	237	363	250	286	224	005	318	066	027	561	010	157	025	010	325
483	341	022	270	130	387	038	140	077	005	133	013	007	022	100	237
483	015	341	060	260	025	027	333	050	126	066	016	188	010	220	134
206	150	462	250	130	163	027	065	073	050	286	027	054	016	160	062
310	356	066	120	053	025	110	183	050	077	165	004	126	015	160	341
586	253	440	200	363	025	011	236	126	121	318	027	188	005	130	206
046	077	220	150	103	586	077	183	027	115	341	022	062	005	210	077
173	356	022	200	053	535	022	072	016	083	088	005	165	008	100	325
333	077	462	210	013	188	027	207	148	066	363	024	038	006	160	310
643	253	516	250	130	336	066	222	027	132	121	020	046	001	040	077
516	134	121	060	013	561	027	236	033	077	022	022	070	016	150	325
230	325	516	170	286	423	083	236	126	077	022	022	007	013	100	077

Where is William going tomorrow?

---

PLEASE NOTE: I got Scott on the code, and I'm re-drafting the few incorrect numbers at this very moment. Of course, they're fairly sporadic, so I doubt they'd hamper getting the message out... if you've got the chutzpah to take it on!