Lyre Institute for Exceptional Children
Lyre-Unthilon
“Director Ling? I’m sorry to disturb you, sir.”
Director Ling raised his head to consider the technician. A competent technician, and discreet. They did not put themselves forward, nor make a habit of disturbing Directors.
“What is it?” he asked. “Quickly.”
“Yes, Director. The receiver tuned to Ahab-Esais has…failed, sir.”
“Failed in what way?”
“Well, sir, the program’s shredded, and the memory fragged, done in such a way that a spark jumped, and the internal hardware…melted, sir.”
Director Ling felt a moment of unease.
“What is the condition of the other receivers in the room?”
“All operating as they should. We’re doing a system sweep, and increasing security.”
“Could this have been a random hardware failure?” Director Ling asked.
“It’s possible,” the technician said, slowly. “But, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I see. Continue your sweep and security upgrades. Report when you have identified the cause.”
“Yes, Director.”
The technician left.
Director Ling turned to the comm.
“Director,” said the voice of another technician, in another receiving room half a planet away. “I was going to call you as soon as we had identified the cause. The Ahab-Esais receiver suffered a catastrophic failure, all internal hardware systems fused.”
“No other receivers compromised?”
“Seems not, but we’re running diagnostics. I’ll have a full report to you in a couple hours, sir.”
“Yes, do that.”
Director Ling cut the connection, and made a third call.
And a fourth.
And a fifth.
Finally, he turned back to his screen, though he was not seeing the information displayed there.
He had not wanted, himself, to venture out to Tinsori Light, but it seemed that, now, he had no choice.
Someone had thrown down a gauntlet.
Such a challenge could not be ignored.