Just as he was passing out or dying in some hidden cave, Milo flicked his tail and logged out of the game. He had too much to do in the real world to be wasting time lying in a dusty cot. He did enjoy sleeping in the game now and then, especially when that would be what he was doing in the real world, but he'd pass on dying from poison or having horrible dreams for a day. He was either dead, or he wasn't. Dead was going to be real pain and dealing with spiders to get back some of his gear. Of course, living might also have some problems associated with it, like being stuck in an unknown cave with a dead body and angry spiders knocking at his door.
But that was tomorrow’s problems. Today he needed to get a different set of gear ready in case he actually did decide to go to some big swap-meet/party that some rich person was holding in Section H.
That thought made him pause. Was he a rich person now? He wasn't sure if stolen money counted. But logically, it had to, since governments and corporations seemed to steal so much it all the time, and it counted for them. Another decision made: stolen money counted for determining if you were rich. He would figure out all this social stuff eventually.
Of course, Milo would have trouble doing a lot with his stolen money. Unlike the people rebuilding Section H, he couldn't just put new solar panels on the roof of Section E. First, they'd get stolen. Second, they were too damn obvious. The ones in Section H didn't get stolen because they were under surveillance constantly, with guards and maintenance workers. It was too bad he couldn't just put an array of his panels in Section H and let them guard them for him.
Was there any reason he couldn't? He would have to mimic the email trail for all the requests, invoices, installation and a dozen other things. Once they were installed, he could wire them into his own system by running new cable through an unused crawlspace. He could even have his panels designated for future use and high energy needs. If they fed power to Section H only as needed, it would camouflage that most of the power was being used in Section E, rather than being wasted. Section H would benefit from having their storage at 100% all the time, and he could greatly upgrade the energy system in Section E. Even if someone questioned having extra panels, it would be a huge mess of complex orders to untangle why they were there. He'd make sure of that.
And he was safe because an engineer or technician looked for problems and things to fix. Extra power wasn't a problem. Bonus solar panels didn't need to be fixed. Move on citizen, nothing to see here.
He began working on the idea immediately. Thoughts of poison and spiders pushed to the back of his head. After an hour, an alarm went off. The alarm was connected to a message to himself: 'Remember to order the following: 196 graphene panels made according to the schematics we just set up. We also need 2000 titanium/iridium micromotors, two miles of the ultrathin graphene cable coated and uncoated, the new micro-waldos from Lang Enterprises and the micro-processing 'Factory in a box' that Dr. Ignition is trying to sell prototypes of. Leather coat, the kind we saw with 100 pockets. That pitiful looking prosthetic leg with the fake foot on the end. And bread, the long kind. A dozen loaves. Ten pounds of butter. A pound of ground Parmesan. That should do for now. Do it before you go back to the other project.'
He almost ignored himself, but was reminded of how good the bread had tasted that the Cheese-Master had made. It took him a half hour and then he got back to work creating several months’ worth of fake emails, and inserting them into the archives, and spam folders or saved mail of the right people. Ordering the panels was the easy part, even routing it into and back out of the accounts of the people that ran Section H. That had been a piece of cake. These people really sucked at basic accounting. They had money coming in, getting tangled up with other money, and going all over the place. Maybe he wasn't the only person trying to hide something?
The only problem he had was dealing with their engineering firm. It was locked tight. Much tighter than he would have expected. Any time he started to get in, their security began to notice and he was forced to back off. In the end, he simply created the emails from them on this side of the fence. It was a small clue that something was off, but not one anyone would ever notice. Like anyone else, they weren't going to care about something that didn't cause a problem.
Some few weeks later...
Onyx: This is driving me crazy. How stupid can these people be. They thank me for the superb job we did on the second solar array. We had nothing to do with a second solar array!
Nina: They thanked you?
Onyx: Not me, personally. They thanked our fictitious talking head that they think runs things.
Zander: Was a second solar array installed? I recommended it because projections showed they would need it in 30 months, plus or minus 4 months. They turned down the proposal because of cashflow considerations.
Onyx: No, we had nothing to do with it. I mean, we could have, but they didn't ask. But they have a second array, and they thanked me for my insight and work in making sure it was done correctly. I didn't do anything!!
Bork: Is that a problem? They did something on their own for a change. Probably someone said "Screw this, we need it, go do it. And if anyone asks, tell them that the wonderful engineering firm said to do it and helped." Done, move on.
Algernon: Now, if they paid us for our help, that would be something. Money for nothing.
Onyx: I checked. They paid us. It was part of last quarter's accounting.
Algernon: How did that tune go? Money for nothing and the chicks for free? I demand women!
Nina: What would you do with them?
Algernon: Make them play games with me, of course, you people are always too busy.
Nina: Ugh, enough games for me. Never going back to that horrible trap of a fantasy world.
Onyx: I think that...No. Never mind. So, we got paid. What now. I want to go sort through this, dig some in their systems. It bothers me.
Nina: You went back in, didn't you!
Onyx: I dig in their systems all the time. Their accounting is so funny. They barely hide the money laundering at all.
Nina: The game. You went in the game. I told you not to!
Onyx: And I told you not to download all those cat photos and fall in love with them. Now you own seven cat shelters!
Nina: Full of cute ones!
Bork: I'm not seeing problems here people!
Algernon: I want my MTV...
Zander: I wish I was an only child sometimes.
Bork: Wouldn't work. You'd be insane by the time you were twelve. Any of us would be. We have to have a group to bounce ideas off of us or we go feral and then insane. Hard coded in our genetics.
Onyx: That's troubling on many levels. But I may disagree with you at some point.
Nina: NO! It wasn't him. You aren't going back in. That's crazy talk. We don't need more crazy. We need time with each other.
Onyx: I suppose. What are we doing tonight then? Another group project for someone?
Nina: No. Done with this. Going to watch 'Politician Grudge Match'. The ex-Governor of Nebraska challenged the current Prime Minister of Alaska. They're doing a cage match tonight for the title.
Bork: I'm in. Everyone?
Onyx: I suppose. You're right. This is a waste of time. Just morons getting things mixed up.
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