No Pills

You are Becoming Special

*Charlie's P.O.V*

The guards take me to Igor's office, where four other men, including Mr. Yeltsin, are. Igor summons me to his lap. I oblige despite their stares.

"Sir, not now -" one speaks.

"Is your software done checking?" Igor cuts him off, wrapping his hands around me. The man nods and hands Igor his laptop. Igor gives it to me.

"Their system might be complex for the boy, sir."

"So?" Igor starts scrolling anyway. My eyes gloss over what is on display only to realise the man is right; I am not even good with technology, and I am supposed to understand database system software.

I look up. Three pairs of eyes are on me. I look down and gulp.

OK, what now, Charlie?... Should we just click... let's click something.

I click somewhere, and another window opens an account.

OK, at least we get this one a bit... urm... factory overheads; we know that... umm... miscellaneous?

"What is miscellaneous?"

"Are you asking for the meaning of a word, boy?" The fattest in the room laughs.

I grimace. "No, I mean, what is their miscellaneous account for?"

"Miscellaneous stuff," another in glasses jests.

I turn to Igor, and he booms, "Hey, answer his question, motherfuckers!"

Dead silence.

The accountant - I presume from how the other men tilt to him- clears his throat. "Urm, sir, if it is something we should worry about, the software would have alerted us-"

"People."

"Huh?" Igor reverts to me.

I say again, "People. They don't care about lives anyway, so ... it could be people."

"What people? Their victims?" Joe sits up.

I shrug and click away. Gibberish appears.

Help me! What are you doing, computer? You're supposed to help me, not give me what- what is this, even? Cake... bread... fruits- is this a joke?

Clicking 'fruits' in frustration, I see icons of different fruits beside significant figures. I am scrolling in more profound confusion when something comes to mind.

Leo.

Instantly, I find the pineapple icon. It opens another account with actual names.

Finally!

Adrenaline kicks in as I zoom through the names. Igor draws closer. I push against him, so he sits back.

Will you let me focus, you monster?!-

Then, a name catches my eye. "Sir Joe?"

"What is it?" Mr. Yelstin gets up instantly.

The moment he sees it, too, colour drains off his face. Igor and I watch as he opens windows at break-neck speed.

"Why? What is it?" The accountant stands. Joe holds up a finger, bellowing, " They paid Albert $7 million!"

"Hey," Igor pats his shoulder while Joe continues to boil. "The-they think Loré is only worth 7 million?!"

"7 million?" The fattest guy in the room frowns. "Wait, that's rather too much to dispose one person -"

"Hey, watch your mouth!" Igor blasts, instantly holding back Joe's fist under the desk.