Chapter 14 #2
“I need to stay,” she’d explained during hour fifteen, when I’d suggested she needed real rest. “I’m too close to a breakthrough to stop now. If I leave, I’ll lose the thread of what I’m working on.”
So we stayed.
I’d been trying to give her space to work while keeping watch. The lab had emptied and refilled and emptied again—normal people with normal jobs and normal lives going home to dinners and families and beds that didn’t require constant vigilance.
But something about this place had changed over the past thirty hours.
The feeling of being watched had intensified since Charlotte had started working alone.
Security cameras were expected in a place like this—I’d cataloged them all my first week here.
But this felt different now. More personal.
More targeted. Like someone was specifically monitoring us, waiting for something.
I stood, stretching muscles that protested thirty hours of mostly sitting, and made my way to Charlotte’s janitor’s closet. The door was cracked open, and I could hear her talking to herself—or to the code, more likely.
“If I adjust the recursive function here… No, that breaks the stability matrix. But what if…”
I knocked gently and pushed the door open.
She sat surrounded by monitors balanced on boxes, cables running everywhere like digital vines.
Empty food containers from the meals I’d brought her throughout the day littered the floor.
Her hair had escaped its braid almost entirely, auburn waves falling around her face as she hunched over her keyboard.
She looked exhausted. Beautiful, but exhausted.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How’s it going?”
She didn’t respond, fingers flying across keys, eyes locked on scrolling code.
“Charlotte.”
Nothing. She was completely gone, absorbed in whatever quantum realm her brain was navigating. I’d seen this before—that total focus that blocked out everything else. But thirty hours of it was taking its toll.
I stepped into the cramped space, careful not to trip over cables, and touched her shoulder gently.
She jerked like I’d shocked her, spinning in her chair with wide, unfocused eyes.
“What? I’m… What?”
“Just checking on you,” I said. “You’ve been at this for thirty hours straight.”
She blinked at me like she was trying to remember who I was. “I’m close. So close. The recursive loops are stabilizing, but the error rate is still too high for implementation. If I can get it below point-zero-three percent—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her whole body going rigid. Her eyes went wide, focused on something I couldn’t see.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” I tensed, ready for trouble.
“Oh my God, that’s it. That’s—” She spun back to her keyboard, fingers flying across keys faster than before. “If I inverse the quantum state at the third junction and reroute through the auxiliary stabilizer—”
Code flew across her screens, lines appearing and disappearing faster than I could track. She was talking to herself again, a rapid-fire stream of technical terms that might as well have been another language.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She pushed back from the desk, spinning her chair in a complete circle. “That’s it! I figured it out!”
The joy on her face was radiant, transforming exhaustion into pure triumph. Before I could respond, she launched herself at me, arms wrapping around my neck in a fierce hug.
“You finished the stabilizer code?”
“No, there’s still more to do. But this was a big part of the problem, and now I know how to fix it,” she said against my shoulder. “The error rate issue—if I inverse the quantum state at the third junction and reroute through the auxiliary stabilizer, it should work. The math checks out!”
I chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.” I held her for a moment, feeling the tremors running through her body—exhaustion, adrenaline, victory, all mixed together.
She pulled back slightly, and I saw tears in her eyes. Happy tears, but still. After thirty hours of grinding work, she’d done it.
I steadied her with hands on her shoulders. “We should get you home. You need real sleep in a real bed.”
“But there’s still more…”
“And it will still be here tomorrow.” I kept my voice firm. “You’ve been at this for thirty hours straight. You’re done for today. Real food. Real sleep. Then come back.”
She nodded. “Okay. Just…let me save everything properly.”
I watched her go through what was clearly a careful routine—multiple saves, backup protocols, encryption sequences.
An idea formed as I watched from the doorway. Time to give the mole an opportunity they couldn’t resist. Draw them out.
“You should take the countermeasure drive home with you,” I said, loud enough to carry if anyone was listening. “In case you get inspiration in the middle of the night. Plus, we should make sure there aren’t any malfunctions with the new approach you figured out.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “But Raymond already— I mean, Alex might— Taking company property without authorization again—”
I could see the panic building in her whispered words, the fear of getting in trouble overwhelming her exhausted brain. I pressed her against the wall and kissed her, cutting off her questions.
Against her mouth, I kept my voice below a whisper that no surveillance could pick up. “Remember, we could be surveilled right now. Just go with me on what I’m saying. Trust me.”
She tensed for a second, then nodded against my lips. “Yeah, taking it home is a good idea.”
I didn’t know if she fully understood my plan or just trusted me. Either way worked.
“Okay, I’ll take you home then I’ll head back to my hotel. We both need some sleep.” Again, I spoke just loud enough that any human or mechanical listening device could hear. Let them think she’d be home alone.
It was time to see who would take the bait.