Cliff spent the next thirty minutes trying to find matches for the number: *85122514-03012. He found out that it doesn’t match any pre-existing phone numbers and IP address formats. To Cliff, the source of the phone could be anything: a satphone, a surveillance computer, a satellite… anything.
Cliff heaved a sigh. “I give up. Whatever it is that’s messing with that phone’s connection must be extremely hi-tech. Someone must be very interested about your boss’s info. FBI, CIA, overzealous competitors… damn.”
“Then, I’ll be fucked.”
“Yeah. Ass-fucked. But then again, it’s not your fault.”
“He might charge that phone to my salary. It’s gonna cost me a month’s pay.”
“He can’t do that. That’s absurd!”
“You don’t know my boss.” Jeremy took the phone and started making a call that, of course, automatically connected to the mysterious number.
The ringback played through the loudspeaker.
He set the phone down to massage his temples.
“I guess we need to go to sleep now,” Jeremy said, yawning.
“No. I think you do. I have to reach level 165, remember? I’m only 61 levels short to unlocking my character’s ‘Dragon-riding Skill.’”
“Ah, yeah, yeah.” Jeremy took out his wallet. “Cliff, how much is your professional fee?”
“Aw, forget it, man. We’re friends. Besides. I didn’t do anything.”
“I insist, buddy. For your wasted time.”
“Well, keep the money. How about you just give me some… links to good online porn vids. I watch almost all kinds of genres.”
Jeremy laughed. “You want squirrel porn? I can give you some CD’s if you want,” he said jokingly.
“Squirrel porn? Wow. I’ve never seen anything like that before. Give me copies, Jer.”
Jeremy eyed him. “Are you serious?”
Clifford cocked his head. “Yeah.”
Jeremy tried another call. The ringback played.
“You really like that song, don’t you? It’s creepy, man,” Clifford muttered.
“I know. I just kind of liked it.”
“Creepy as fuck. Sounds like a ghost girl.”
“Must be a ghost.”
The ringback stopped. Jeremy was startled when an incoming call appeared on the screen. Celine Dion’s ‘To Love You More’ played as a ringtone.
On the screen is the number: **85122514-03012.
“Holy shit!” Jeremy exclaimed.
“Fuck. Celine Dion?!” Cliff exclaimed.
“My boss loves Celine Dion,” Jeremy explained.
“Gay. Go answer the phone, hurry!” Cliff ordered.
Jeremy’s shaking hands found purchase on the phone’s shiny protective casing. He answered the call.
“Hello?”
On the other end, he could hear small singing voices faintly echoing as if inside a massive grotto. Or a cave.
“Hello earthling. You should stop calling me,” a little girl’s voice answered.
“Uh. Hi, kid. Who are you?” Jeremy asked.
“I’m a seraphim. You shouldn’t be talking to me,” the voice said in a singsongy tune.
“Your name is ‘Seraphine’?”
“Seraphim. I’m an angel,” the voice replied cheerfully.
“Okay. So… your name is Angel Seraphim. Hello Angel. Where are you calling from?”
“My name is not ‘Angel’. I’m an angel. My name is Alizé. This is Heaven.”
“Okay, okay,” Jeremy said impatiently. “Alizé Seraphim. Can I talk to your mom or your dad?”
“You earthlings are funny. I’m a child of the light. I’m an angel.”
“Look, Alizé, I’ve got no time to play with you. I want to know…”
“You don’t want to play?” the voice interrupted, still sounding cheerful. “’Kay bye!”
“Hey…”
The call disconnected.
“SHIT!” Jeremy yelled.
Since the phone is on loudspeaker, Clifford heard all of it. ‘Jer. The voice… it’s the singing girl from the ringback.”
“I thought so.” Jeremy pressed call. “Where’s ‘Heaven’ anyway? Did she mean ‘Haven’ or something? Will you search ‘Alizé Seraphim’ on the net, Cliff?”
“Buddy. I think the kid actually meant ‘Heaven’ and she thinks she’s an angel. Aaand… ‘Seraphim’ is not an surname. It’s a type of angel – an angel of the highest order.”
“Really? I thought the angel reference is just an affectionate name from her parents, like that.”
“Nah. Little girl’s got some problems. Just keep on trying to call her.”
Jeremy tried calling the number several times. The time is 9:43 PM.
“She’s not answering anymore,” Jeremy said.
“Try and see if you could call other numbers,” cliff suggested. Jeremy did, but it still connects to *85122514-03012.
Jeremy redialled impatiently.
“C’mon, kid. Answer the phone.”
“Hand me that,” Clifford said. After taking the phone, he connected the phone to the computer’s processor.
“What are you going to do?”
“Illegal stuff,” Cliff replied, his hands gliding swiftly on the keyboard. “I’m hacking my way into NASA’s database to access satellite feed. Normally, this is risky business, but I’m heavily protected.”
“Wow, Cliff. Impressive. But wait… isn’t that ‘criminal-level’ illegal?”
Clifford winked. “It is when I’m caught.”
“What’s that for?”
“If that number calls again, or if it happens to answer your call, we’ll be able to trace it via satellite. By then, we’ll be able to trace its origin.”
“IF she would answer. Do you think she’d call again?”
“We’ll wait.”
YOU ARE READING
INTERFERENCE (A Short Novel)
FantasyFalsely accused for messing up his boss's cellphone, Jeremy Sanders -- a corporate man -- goes to his old friend, Clifford Crae -- a techno geek -- to try to solve the phone's problem. But the problem is, they can't figure out what the problem is...
