It Looks Like You're Writing a Letter
Chapter 13

Tanner Griffen left the Church of theDivine the same way he'd gone in, turned the corner and was soon back on Route40. He scrolled through his personal playlist and selected a particularlyabrasive track by Shovel Bastard. A graphic EQ bounced as the sound ofamplified wood and steel being tortured played at maximum volume.

He travelled at 90mph until hisgeographical position became meaningless, unattached to his recent activity orhis connections, until it just became longitude and latitude and nothing else.He didn't stop for toll roads, traffic, pedestrians, roadblocks, or stoplights. In fact, none of these things would ever stop him again.

In time, he reconnected with his oldcompatriots on the hacker scene, who were delighted to have him back in thefold. They read the truth, such that it was, about his recent activities andstudied the data, pored over the crisscrossing happenings that made up his lossof himself and subsequent rediscovery.

The underground criminal scene soon got towork giving Tanner Griffen jobs to do. Kidnapping of CEOs children, heists oflarge amounts of digital currencies and daring penetrations of large-scale datacentres, including one particularly spectacular raid in which Griffen caused anentire server farm to physically melt into a pool of stinking, poisonousplastic.

He was all over the Grid, attached to avast array of criminal activity, to the point where the words Tanner Griffenbecame a byword for disruption, hailed by those on the wrong side of the law,and playing the role of boogeyman for trainee OraCorp Security officers. Hewould never age, never get caught, and never die ever again.

Tanner Griffen was still not a very niceman.

Henry Thorner crouched in the drizzle of acrisp February morning. Before him lay the headstone of Martha Thorner. Heplaced the fresh flowers into the vase, as he always did at the beginning ofthe month, and sighed deeply.

"I'm retiring, sweetheart," hesaid to the flowers, and the stone, and the dew on the grass around him, allthe places that Martha lived now. "The work just dried up, I guesseveryone who's lost has now been found. Or the people who are lost just like itthat way. Either way, there's no point keeping up the rent on the office. Theguy from downstairs is expanding his operation anyway, so he'll take it on."

He rubbed his gloved hands together. "Youknow I told you about that Griffen case a few months back? Funny thing. Thesister, the one who hired me? I can't get in touch with her. I wanted to tellher what happened to her brother, I thought she deserved the truth. I spoke tosome of her friends, they say her brother came and took her with him. I didn'tknow what to make of that."

"Come on dad. It's freezing!"came a voice from the end of the path.

"Listen, I've got to go. Linda ishere, she says 'hi' but she hates cemeteries. We're going to get coffee. I wishyou were with us. I love you."

He stood, buttoned his coat and turnedslowly away, picking up the pace as he met his daughter on the path. Theylinked arms and strolled into the February mist.

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