Iben watches him. Theres something touching about men and computers so besotted they are by the mysterious possibilities inside the machine. Its odd: only now can she see clearly what she has sensed before. Rasmus simply isnt right for Malene. It actually saddens her to realize how true this is.

Rasmus is absorbed. and to do that, Ive the perfect hackers helpmate.

He loads another program from a disk. It triggers another flow of windows and options. Boxes race across the screen, and Rasmus fills them in faster than she can read them.

The women exchange glances.

Iben constantly listens out for any noise on the other side of the closed door, but so far the only sounds are those made by the computer and Rasmus, who keeps saying Yes! or swearing.

After more typing, Rasmus says he has cracked it. He removes both his disks, then turns the computer off, and then on again. Start-up brings the usual pa.s.sword request, and Rasmus keys in the code he has just broken. Bjarne has chosen to protect the computer system with the word superspliff.

They laugh a little uncertainly. Rasmus looks more alive than Iben has ever seen him.

There. Im logged on as the administrator for your entire network. Its set up in a rather outdated way, but it means we can read whats in any of the office computers.

What? Can Paul and Bjarne read everything on our computers?

Everything! Theres no hiding place. He doesnt bother to look up at Iben and Malene. First, Ill search for any file containing that e-mail address revenge_is_near.

Pauls and Camillas computers are switched off and cant be searched. Rasmus could turn them on, but theres no point. Several of Ibens and Malenes files turn up, because they have been e-mailing people all over the world to ask about the possible ident.i.ty of the sender. Anne-Lise, on the other hand, doesnt seem to have written a single e-mail containing the phrase revenge_is_near. Strange. Hasnt she told anybody what happened?

Rasmus starts looking for other revealing phrases.

Of course, what were specifically looking for is a trail to any private webmail address she might have on the Net rather than in this computer. That is, apart from Outlook, has she been using Explorer to check e-mail accounts held elsewhere? Like an anonymizer site?

He makes several searches, but finds nothing. His next move is to go through her computer folders, searching for any interesting files.

Weird Most people keep personal stuff somewhere on their hard disk. Rasmus stares at the screen, completely transfixed. Suddenly he calls out: Hey! Look at this!

Whats that?

Its a program that wipes all traces of your Internet activity. She must have downloaded it from the Net. Thats why we cant find anything. It means that she knows what shes doing. Did you know that she was good at that kind of thing?

No.

No idea.

With this, shed be able to create her own addresses on the Net and cover her tracks afterward that kind of thing? Malene asks.

Thats exactly what Im thinking.

While Rasmus searches Anne-Lises files, Iben and Malene go to the library to look through her papers.

The corridor is windowless too, so they could put the light on, but they dont need to. Their bodies have memorized the precise layout of the office. Iben remembers a dream she had in which the tight pa.s.sages between the shelving in the Center merged with images from a film about the sinking of a German submarine. She had watched the film on television a few months earlier. The action mainly took place inside the torpedoed and fatally damaged submarine. In her dream its crew was locked into the narrow aisles between the office bookshelves. Lamps blinking RED ALERT warned them of the Centers slow, silent descent toward the bottom of the sea.

While they wait for Rasmus, Iben and Malene decide to play a game of walking through the dark faster and faster to discover just how well they instinctively know where any obstacles are. Iben starts running and Malene runs after her.

They race through the Winter Garden. Their bodies compute distances and directions precisely. No need to use their head, or their eyes. Malene must be thrilled to be able to move so freely without pain.

Iben catches her breath.

You know, its great to be here and say and do whatever one likes. Just for once. Malene speaks loudly enough for Rasmus to hear.

Isnt it? Look, I can say, for instance, Paul, you simply have to relocate Anne-Lise to a fish-filleting factory in Svalbard, because shes ruining everything here.

And I can say, Paul, its time you woke up. If you dont lock her into a phone booth with a years supply of fish paste sandwiches And a clock. Sh.e.l.l need a clock.

then the Center is going to become such a dump that Frederik will get Kjrums job at Human Rights, and not you!

Got that, Paul?

You have no idea, have you? Always off to your b.l.o.o.d.y meetings, or whatever.

They spend some time at Anne-Lises desk, searching her papers for evidence, before returning to see what Rasmus has found. He is busy tracing preserved fragments of Anne-Lises e-mails, the pieces her clean-up program couldnt delete.

We shouldve brought a few beers.

No problem. Theres a bottle of whiskey in Pauls cupboard.

Do you think its really safe to have some?

Sure. h.e.l.l never notice. Camilla had some the other day.

The whiskey is a an exclusive brand of single malt, but over time Paul has been given so many similar bottles that he doesnt mind leaving one in the office. Iben goes to fetch it and three gla.s.ses.

Look, Ive brought some water as well. Ive read that water opens up a good whiskey. Just a little, to release the aroma.

Isnt it a shame to dilute it?

But its not diluting it that really would be a shame. Only a drop or two. Ill put it in my gla.s.s and you can keep your drink straight. Then well swap to see if we can taste the difference.

When theyve all tested the whiskey several times, mixed with different amounts of water, Iben and Malene return to Anne-Lises desk. This time they put on the overhead lights. No need to be neurotic. It makes their search much quicker and easier, and, anyway, whod be standing down in the street staring at the top-floor windows?

One of Anne-Lises desk drawers is locked. They try to shift the lock with a ruler, but it breaks. Iben puts the bits in the back pocket of her jeans. So what if Anne-Lise doesnt find it tomorrow? All anyone can say is that its lost.

They try inserting a paper knife instead. Neither of them knows a thing about locks, but this time it works. Its a cheap desk and the locks are mainly just for show, but its fun all the same. They must have an unexpected talent for robbery.

Its as if the normal rules no longer apply. Everything in the office is familiar and at the same time strange and new.

Now we can close that f.u.c.king door at last! Malene almost shouts.

She slams it shut and they both laugh.

Rasmus comes in and seems surprised at the lights and noise.

Doesnt matter. n.o.body will come here at this hour! Iben is very loud now.

Anyway, were allowed. We work here.

We work all sorts of hours!

See? Were just so motivated!

Rasmus speaks quietly. Listen, Ive found something.

They turn the light off and he explains as they walk along. Ive loaded a program that searches the whole network for fragments of deleted files.

Back in the server room he shows them a few lines from a file that was probably on Anne-Lises hard disk. In two lines of apparently random characters the word Malene turns up and, a little later on, a sentence: I no longer know myself. I have never experienced hating anyone the way I hate her I might do anything to her she makes me feel sick through and through.

They stand in silence, staring at the screen.

Malene suddenly needs to sit down. You see So whats new?

Iben feels a little groggy owing to lack of sleep. She leans forward over Malenes shoulder. I dont think itll be enough for Paul. He certainly wont admit this as evidence, will he?

No, he wont. He knows perfectly well that she cant stand me. His only reaction so far has been to hand my responsibilities over to her. Like I said: nothing we dont know already.

Rasmus goes off to have a pee. While hes away, they read Anne-Lises latest incoming e-mails. Only two are marked as unread. The first one is a request.

Dear Anne-Lise. I need to know as much as possible about child killings in East Timor. Please collate a list of what is in the library and e-mail it to me as soon as you can. Is tomorrow morning possible? Regards, Tatiana.

Malene quietly deletes it.

The next mail is from Sweden.

Hi, Anne-Lise. Thanks a million for that list. Brilliant! Best, Lotta.

They delete that one too.

Anne-Lise has read all the other e-mails, so they leave them untouched.

Then they both drink some more whiskey before going back to Anne-Lises desk. They keep the lights off this time, ambling about in the dark, happy that the Center is theirs for the time being.

Iben misjudges the layout of the rooms only once. She walks straight into the door between the Winter Garden and the library, forgetting that Malene has closed it. She falls and knocks a few magazine folders off a shelf, but doesnt hurt herself. She gets up quickly. Some magazines have landed on the floor, but putting the light on seems too much ha.s.sle, so she picks up the ones nearby and puts them back any old way. Time enough to sort them out tomorrow.

Malene is back in the library. Iben hears her rummaging over by the readers desks. There is a huge crash.

Malene doesnt laugh out loud, but her voice shakes a little. Oops!

Iben gets the drift at once. Malene has knocked over one of the very tall stacks of books that Anne-Lise has put on the floor while she sorts them.

Iben goes in to check the damage.

Look, it doesnt matter. It kind of fell over, all by itself. Malene seems unfazed.

Iben gives another stack a brisk tap. You mean like this? Oh, look! It fell over too.

Malene gives a third stack a push. Its like the domino effect!

Iben is on her way through the Winter Garden to put the bottle of whiskey back in Pauls cupboard when she hears the whining of the elevator. The sound lasts only a moment, then stops. Someone gets out on their floor.

Iben rushes quietly back to the library. She tells Malene in a loud whisper: Zigic! Its Zigic!

She walks toward Malenes voice, whispering in the dark.

No. No She reaches out and touches Malenes blouse.

No, it cant be.

They stand side by side, holding hands, their backs against the shelving on the far side of the open door to the Winter Garden.

Someone is fiddling with the locks on the front door.

Malenes voice is low. Are all the lights off?

Not in the server room. Where Rasmus is.

I wonder can he hear ?

There are many hiding places in the maze of shelving at the back of the library, but Iben lacks the courage to go there. Once more, she has a fleeting impression of the Centers network of pa.s.sages transforming into the torpedoed submarine as it sinks inexorably into the deep ocean trenches with their intolerable pressure.

The main door opens. The lights are switched on. How can they tell if its Zigic just by listening?

There are two people outside the door. One walks in shoes with hard soles toward Pauls office; the other walks more quietly. The quiet one stops at Malenes desk and rustles through her papers, looking for something.

Iben stands absolutely still, her heart hammering in her chest. The man in the Winter Garden is only a few feet away. She feels the sweat soaking through her top; a drop runs down her leg until its stopped by the tape that holds the knife in place.

A woman speaks: You mustve had something in mind when you drove her to rhus.

Its Helens voice, Pauls wife. Iben relaxes.

Helen is a secondary school teacher. Her looks have faded, but her features and her shock of blond curls still hint at how very good-looking she once was. Her manner has changed as well, and with time shes become rather odd. She always excuses herself from Center get-togethers, such as the Christmas lunch, and always at the last minute.

Pauls voice comes from his office. Just shut up! Stop harping on about it!

Helen is shouting now. Its your fault! You make me like this, the way you keep avoiding my questions. It reminds me.

What utter c.r.a.p!

Iben has never heard Paul speak this way despairing, superior, and angry, like someone telling a disabled child off for pestering them.

Helens voice is still very loud. Maybe theyve been out and she has drunk too much. But its true! You always avoid things thats what you do.

Thats nonsense! Im telling you the truth. End of story. Paul is closer now, somewhere in the Winter Garden. He must have picked up some papers he needs for tomorrow, since hes due to be away from the Center all day.