“It doesn’t matter now.”
The whistle blows twice and the train kicks to a start. It curves on its tracks as it pulls out. As we slide beneath a bridge, gaining speed, the couple heads off with their camera to capture the last sights of Moscow. I take a deep breath and relax. Soon, we’ll be out of the city and done with it.
But not yet. I pull out my laptop and put the finishing touches on my last project.
Anna presses against me, and I feel the heat of her thigh against mine. Cozy. “Do you remember that promise we had long ago?”
“I do. We’ll find a place like that. I have money to get us there. We’ll do it.”
There’s doubt in her eyes, as if she doesn’t quite believe what’s happening. “We can celebrate your birthday there. It’s tomorrow isn’t it?” A slight pause. “You still haven’t told me why you’re—”
“Later,” I interrupt her. “Later, we tell each other everything.”
She rests her head against the window just as a pair of crows swoop low, then soar away. That’s the way to go, fast and far. “Do you think anyone will look for us?” Our lives and its troubles ran parallel to each other now, like the paired rails of the train track. “We are doing the right thing, aren’t we?” There’s a naivety in her doubt, and it feels precious, a fragile flower to be protected from the gale.
“It’s this place that’s messed up. That’s why we’re leaving it. We’re doing the right thing.”
I know because I grew up. Once, I thought I’d change the world, but Moscow remade me.
Anton and Luka used to tease me, calling me Andrei 1.0. I’m not that anymore. Anton, Luka, look at me! I’m a different version now, a 2.0!
But that joke died with them.
I open my laptop and begin programming a simple timer. Outside, the train clashes and screeches against the tracks. I set the timer forward, to the next scheduled stop outside Moscow. As I put the package together, I think back to the first time I met Luka, the childish prank I played then.
Knock knock, who’s there?
Hello, Moscow, it’s me again. Last time, I offered you music, I wanted everything to sing. Now, I have something else for you, a delivery on behalf of Luka. It’s not music this time. This will shut you up and shut you down.
“What if…” Anna begins again.
“Don’t worry. No one will follow us.” I try to smile at her, to reassure her. “I’m sure of it,” I repeat, my finger stroking the keyboard, I’m waiting for a sign.
Then, I see it.
In the distance, on the roof of a dinghy mid-rise, the emblem of Moscow Telecom gleams, a metallic array of panels angled towards the skies like heads turned up in prayer. The train barrels towards it, as if nothing can stop its momentum. My finger is poised, waiting for the building to come, closer and closer.
Send.
Note from author
The book would not have been possible without the support of many. I am deeply grateful to the following for their help and support: Patrick McGrath, who gave me invaluable advice about writing; Susan Shapiro, who taught me perseverance; to those who spoke to me about the dark arts and allowed me glimpses into their community; and my many test readers (especially Maron Anrow.)
Above all, I am grateful to my readers and would love to hear from you. I value your feedback, and any online reviews would be much appreciated.
About the author
W. Len received a Masters in Fine Arts from the New School, and did his undergraduate studies at Brown University. There, he studied computer science, spent a long time dwelling in a computer lab, then switched courses after suffering from acute Vitamin D deficiency.
His works have appeared in Financial Times publications, New York Press, The Brooklyn Rail, and foreign newspapers, such as The Straits Times.
Besides writing, at various points of his life, he has worked on Wall Street; taught at Parsons, School of Design; served in the Navy; and sold candy on the streets.
He is currently working on a novel about misbehaving financiers.
Copyright
Hack:Moscow is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters, with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Hack:Moscow
Copyright @ 2014 by W. Len
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
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