The Hackers - Дарья Дмитриевна Роснина

he did not obtain a zero result – they were wrong. The contact did take place!”

“And where are the reports?” Atarva persisted.

“All the reports and documents were taken away. There is no longer any lab, the room is empty. The father’s apartment was raked through. So now not a single note is left.”

“That’s quite interesting! Let’s go and have breakfast now, tell us everything in the lab.”

Upon hearing the news, their good mood left them at once, and the group headed silently towards the canteen building.

Meanwhile, a secretary-girl dressed in a beige sari entered the office of the Scientific Center’s Director. She bowed respectfully and stopped silently at the door.

The owner of the office was standing motionlessly with his hands behind his back beside a large window with tinted glass. That was a man over fifty, tall, well-knit, dressed in a well-tailored, light-gray woolen suit and a white shirt without tie.

 His upright posture and strict look showed he was accustomed to give orders and was well-aware of such concepts as will and responsibility.

“Sangeeta, I have additional instructions for the Chief Security Officer, you’ll find them in your computer,” the boss said slowly and pensively, “Atarva’s group has a special status now. There will be a separate instruction on them. That’s all for now.”

The secretary silently bowed and noiselessly went out. The director stood for a while, looking at squirrels running along thick branches of a giant shorea tree, growing opposite the administrative building.

The noble tree was enclosed with a beautiful low fence with a marble slab informing that the tree had been planted on the day of the Center’s opening and that the Center was intended to help people of science to pursue research and scientific studies. Now that was part of the Scientific Center’s history.

The entrance door opened behind his back. Only one person was allowed to enter his office unannounced – Jagdish Chandra, Head of Research and Development. Since their university days, they have known each other well, and that was the only person to whom the director could confide his thoughts.

“Hello, Rajesh,” Jagdish greeted him in a cheerful voice and quickly walked towards his friend, opening his arms for a hug. That was a highly energetic, skinny man of average height.

“Hello, my friend! The director’s look grew softer at once; he vigorously turned around to welcome the friend of his youth.

In the East, people usually take some time before getting down to business, first they demonstrate their attention and favor towards each other.

“Let’s come over to the lounge room. Now it’s tea time, and we’ll be more comfortable there.” The director pointed with his eyes to a small door and then put his hand on Jagdish’s shoulder, slightly pushing him towards that door. The latter instantly got the point and said out loud:

‘Over a cup of tea I’ll tell you about the cricket match.”

The director’s personal recreation room was hidden behind that small door. It was quite spacious and well-designed. In addition, it was equipped with the special protective field, preventing any possibility of eavesdropping. Having closed the door firmly, Jagdish habitually walked towards a large armchair opposite a tea table with an old chess set.

“Raj, tell me what is going on here. The Curators that were pressed on us by the customer are now acting highly bizarrely. They are virtually spending whole nights in our labs while their bus is always waiting for them near the gates.

Have you seen the roof of their bus? It is packed full of electronics!

Who is this customer? I feel anxious about all this and the closer we get to the end of the works, the more intense this feeling gets.”

Is this all about the quantum processor? Atarva’s group has completed its development and tests. The results are more than impressing!

You should be happy about that! But instead you are being stressed out all the time! You think I don’t see this state of yours!”

“Waite a minute, Jagdish,” Raj cut short his friend’s lengthy speech, settling himself in a large cosy armchair. “First of all, I have always taken seriously your intuition. But you are right: I do need a piece of advice. Let’s go over the facts that beg questions: the quantum processor used to be our own development up to the moment when the information about it leaked out into the outside world. Then came that odd and generous customer and offered to buy out everything related to that processor, namely the rights to the concept and the technologies. We rejected his offer at the time, do you remember our meeting? Alright, I will go on. Then we began to face persistent calls and pressure from the above, as well as promises of new orders and funding. And here in this room, we both decided to take on the job, encouraged by the amount in the customer’s check. Am I right? So these facts beg the question: how come the confidential information on the technology that is ahead of our time and destined to change the world ended up beyond the limits of the Center? All this raises a red flag, doesn’t it?”

Jagdish nodded his head, looking fixedly at Raj.

“And then, out of the blue, appeared that company with an offer to select an appropriate development team for us. The best of the best, as they put it. That way, we acquired a group that we jokingly called the “Juniors”. However, we ceased making fun of them as we got to know them better; you yourself read me those data, sitting here in this armchair.

And as far as the Juniors are concerned, they’ve got extraordinary abilities coupled with the cause-and-effect relationships of their lives that seem to be accidently linked to the subject of the development. And then again comes this odd company that finds these specialists for us and