Chapter 38: Threat

"However, that is merely a classification method based on the point of origin, meant to facilitate combat operations," Liz continued. "Secondary chelates are external invaders, so they are usually unfamiliar with local personnel and terrain, making them relatively easy to eliminate. Primary chelates, on the other hand, have lived at the site for a long time; they possess a deeper understanding of the area, rendering them more secretive, cunning, and difficult to engage."

Hesta understood. "Is it the same in the Wasteland?"

Liz paused, then shook her head.

"The situation in the Wasteland... how should I put it? It’s quite different.

"In the Wasteland, there is no point in distinguishing between primary and secondary chelates. Even if you did, it would be meaningless. For most of the Wasteland, by the time someone realizes that a chelate infection has taken hold, it is already too late. Some people will try to flee, while others simply wait in place until everyone falls ill one after another.

"If there is timely notification, Mercury Needles and the Coalition Government’s teams can arrive before the outbreak becomes widespread, providing medical treatment and organizing evacuations. But the cost of maintaining such communication is immense, as there is no electricity in the Wasteland; everything relies on horses and people.

"A total outbreak in a Wasteland settlement is called a 'Chelate Tide,'" Liz said softly. "However, hunting chelates in areas far from towns is often less restricted than in habitable zones, which can sometimes make them easier to handle."

Hesta realized that her question had been somewhat inappropriate. This cruel answer was, to some extent, a reflection of Liz’s own life. She had inadvertently stirred up painful memories.

Liz was silent for a moment, then snapped her book shut and set it aside. "Get your computer out."

"...What for?"

"I’m going to encrypt it for you. I should have done it yesterday, but there was too much going on and it slipped my mind..."

Seeing Hesta’s confused look, Liz explained the reasoning behind it.

"You mean Shawn might be able to see my network activity?" Hesta asked.

"Theoretically, it’s possible, though the base has disabled all of Shawn’s devices for the past two days, so he shouldn't have the tools."

Hesta pondered for a moment. "...Alright, wait a second."

***

For several days, Shawn couldn't get his hands on Galvin’s computer—Galvin had simply left it in the base library.

The two had never been in such a prolonged cold war. Several times, Shawn tried to use mundane topics to strike up a conversation, only to have Galvin sidestep him just as he was about to speak.

After repeated failed attempts, Shawn gave up. He finally realized that unless he was prepared to have a long, serious talk with Galvin, he would never be able to pretend that their previous conversation hadn't happened.

He felt a deep resentment, but had nowhere to vent it. Galvin had begun preparations for their first field mission next month, but for the first time ever, he hadn't asked Shawn to train with him. Shawn simply used various excuses—sick leave, personal leave—to skip all the short-range combat simulations, and to his surprise, the base approved every single one.

Suddenly, he had an abundance of time.

About a week later, the base unexpectedly restored his credit rating, raising it from D back to C-. Although Officer Morley had personally called him in for a talk, warning him to turn over a new leaf and behave, the rating increase meant that both he and Galvin could move back into the student dormitory.

This briefly sparked a flicker of caution in Shawn. After leaving the assessment area, he didn't bother Hesta for several days.

But soon, Shawn deduced the reason. Starting that week, large crowds of civilians began gathering outside the base, shouting slogans like "Set Her Free" and holding up portraits of the flaxen-haired Hesta. The idle Shawn stood in the main building not far from the main gate, watching it all like a spectator at a show.

He sensed a flavor of "hushing things up" in his own experience. Presumably, Morley—and even the higher-ups—did not want, or were perhaps afraid of, news leaking out that someone was bullying Hesta inside the base.

But he wasn't afraid.

Not long after Shawn moved back into the student dorm under the guise of "suffering from diffuse headaches," he found the perfect opportunity to sneak into Mrs. Lovett’s duty office on the first floor. Mr. Ware, assuming she must be incredibly annoyed by the protesters, had invited her to drive into the city for a stroll one afternoon; they were to leave at one o'clock and return by five.

In his email, Mr. Ware hadn't specified which day—it depended on his remaining workload for the week.

But that didn't stump Shawn. Every day after twelve, he would pull a chair under the hallway window and read. The L-shaped path at the entrance of the apartment was essentially deserted at noon. Whenever a figure passed by below, he would glance at his watch.

Soon, he caught sight of Mrs. Lovett dressed for an outing. She wore a pale yellow monochrome coat and a floral dress, a pillbox hat with grass-green tulle silk flowers perched on her head, brown low-heeled shoes, and she carried a small black handbag.

Shawn watched Mrs. Lovett disappear at the end of the path and began to estimate the time. He imagined her slowly crossing the entire base to the underground parking lot on the west side, meeting Mr. Ware, and the two of them sitting in the car as the engine started, driving further and further away.

Once the distance he imagined exceeded the range that would trigger a thought like, "I left something in the apartment, I have to go back," Shawn closed his book. Feigning nonchalance, he went downstairs, arrived at Mrs. Lovett’s door, and used a pre-prepared master key card to swipe open the electronic lock.

Mrs. Lovett’s computer password was incredibly simple: Lovett4576_.

It was likely the most perfect password she could conceive, as it contained uppercase and lowercase letters, numbers, and a special character all at once. The only problem was that Mrs. Lovett’s account name was also Lovett4576.

But looking on the bright side, at least she would never face the dilemma of being locked out of the system for forgetting her password.

Shawn skillfully pulled up the windows he needed. Soon, his eyebrows rose slightly—Hesta’s effective search data had stopped around nine o'clock on the Sunday before last.

It seemed Liz had already helped her upgrade.

Shawn typed in new commands with great interest to view Hesta’s few remaining search records. This was perhaps the only thing in the past week that could pique his interest, to the point where the corners of his mouth were already curling upward.

However, this malicious smile soon froze on his face. Although Hesta had opened a great many pages, the search topics she had entered were incredibly concise:

*How to purchase small knives suitable for concealment?*

*How to forge an alibi?*

*If someone under the age of twelve commits intentional homicide, what punishment will they face if discovered?*