It Matters

In a cafe several miles from home, Matt used his laptop to get back to where he'd been. The desktop at home was secured against Mello, or so he hoped, and the man himself had been sleeping soundly when Matt had left. Tapping away, Matt tried a dozen different ways to alter the code. It wasn't behaving like anything he had ever seen before. Perhaps if he had days to work on it, he could break it, but time was a huge factor.



What was actually going to happen? Matt tried to guess every permeation and none of them were good. The best immediate scenario was that no-one ever went back to see this, but that was unlikely. The scores had been written on the first level. There was probably a nine year old junior hacker sitting in a bedroom at The Whammy House looking even now. If Roger saw it, then what? Would he just fire Near?



Matt imagined the scene, 'Hi Near, sorry, I know that you have been the new L for a while now and have the ear of several heads of state and the law enforcements of most countries, but you're fired. Matt's taking over now.' There was an image of Near, all in white, bunched up on the floor playing with a Transformer figure and twisting his hair. He would reason it out and conclude that Roger was right, then calmly pack his bags and leave. Matt would then have to watch his back for the rest of his life, as Near constantly sought to better him. Matt would be trying to out-think one of the most genius minds he had ever encountered, in endless competition, for all eternity. Yes, it would be his childhood all over again. Near was never to know.



But if Matt could hack into this, then Near certainly could. Near could find out. Shit.



Matt ordered his fourth cup of tea and closed his eyes. What was he missing? Where were the patterns? The brilliance of the code was that it had no pattern, nothing coherent to follow through. Was it deeper in the programme? It could take months to unravel all of that! Matt searched again through pages that he had already searched a million times.



What if Mello found out?



Matt pushed the thought back. But it kept returning. Scenarios. They coalesced onto two possibilities: Mello tearing his head off and using it as a football; or Mello turning around, walking out and disappearing from his world. There was, after all, a precedent here. Mello telling Roger that Near should take on the role which they both coveted, then walking away. Near had never been able to have even a civil conversation with Mello since. It was all competition and violence. Near believed that Mello hated him, but Matt wasn't so sure. Mello hated what Near represented, that was all. And if it was Matt who represented that, instead of Near? He felt cold. Mello was never to find out.



Matt needed help, but he couldn't think of anyone who could help him. Mello or Near might spot something that he could not, but they were precisely the two people who were never to see this. He risked switching on his 'phone. There were five missed calls, all from Mello. He hurriedly switched it off. Ok, time for drastic actions. If he couldn't alter or delete the files, he could stop anyone else from viewing them. Of course, the second that someone realised that he'd uploaded a virus into the server, they would be in there removing it and thus reading what no-one could read. It gave him, perhaps, the next few hours grace. It would just have to be enough. He uploaded the Trojan and closed his laptop.



An hour later, he was entering Roger's office, startling the elderly man, who, this time, hadn't seen him coming. Matt indicated towards the monitors.

"I disabled them. You're seeing yesterday on a loop."



"Why would you do that, Matt?" Roger sat back, as Matt loomed over the other side of the desk. "Are you recovered from the concussion?"



"Mostly. Well, I am." Matt added cryptically. "I did it because I wanted to show you that I can just walk in here. The security is shit. I can change that for you. That's something that I can do."



"I would appreciate that, thank you." Roger appeared nervously, glancing at the monitors.



"You've come to rely on them too much. You used to reason out where we all were and what we were up to. You should also know that I've released a DoS," Matt noted Roger's incomprehension, "a Tro... a virus into your server. You'll be fine as long as no-one logs in. I can remove that too." He shrugged. "I want you to do something for me in return."



"You are behaving very strangely, Matt."



"Of course I am. You fucking set me up." He leaned over the desk. "You made me take my finals without telling me that they were exams in the first place. I thought it was a game!"



Roger blinked,

"Matt, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."



Matt surveyed him for the longest time. His reasoning prompted the conclusion, it had been either Roger or L. Once they were the choices, it didn't take a mind like Mello's to conclude that it had all been L. Matt nodded towards the silent man before him.

"Ok. That changes things a little bit."



"Then I suggest that we sit down, like rational adults and discuss this." Roger stood stiffly. "I shall make us a cup of tea, whereupon I am sure that whatever is amiss will shortly be put right."



Matt stared out of the window. Watching the little ones playing outside, except playing was stretching the verb somewhat. Most of them were huddled into niches and corners, reading. Tiny shoots in a hothouse, waiting to grow unnaturally gigantic, spreading leaves that threatened ceilings. He became aware that Roger was still speaking to him.

"Eh? What?"



Roger patiently repeated himself.

"I am overseeing the safety of, currently, twelve youngsters. You have disabled the security and the computer. May I ask what it would take for you to rectify this situation?



Matt smirked, "Tea is a really good start." He sat down and reappraised his options. Roger really didn't know that L had aped the final examinations, in the form of a series of, now he considered it, games. L had tricked Matt into applying himself and had therefore received the data that they had all been speculating upon. Roger didn't know this. Roger was the keystone about which all considerations of heirs currently rested, give or take Near. Matt formed a plan. "Ok, I'll come clean. It really irked me that I set off all of those alarms last time I hacked into your system. So I did it again from home."



"When was this?" Roger looked startled.



"All this last week. I got as far as Near's mainframe and into it. I was watching him, erm, working on Thursday, from his survelliance cameras." Matt allowed himself a moment of smugness. "So no-one knew I was there then?" A huge grin. "I are the pwnage."



"You are...?" Roger frowned the question. "You are certainly very good at what you do, Matt."



"I didn't touch anything. Much. But for a laugh, I hacked into our scores and changed them. I was going to pretend that they were real to wind Mello up." He took his cup of tea and sipped it, hot, before placing it down on the coffee table. "But I don't know what I did. I just can't change them back." Matt laughed aloud. "I'm currently the number one!" He rolled backwards on the settee in obvious mirth, before settling again. "And I thought that might, erm, cause problems."



"I see." Roger slowly stirred lemon into his tea. "I hope you will forgive me, Matt, but there are a few things, observations, which occur to me."



"Mmkay." Matt scooped up his tea again. "They are?"



"The first being that you are lying. Your body language is fully consistent with that and, besides, I've watched you since you were a small child. I know the signs." He smiled kindly at the redhead. "I am also wondering about the need for aggression when you first walked in. You came to confess, but nontheless disabled my system and added a virus as a bargaining tool. I am also mindful of a directive from L, which I have kept in paper form these many years. The computer wouldn't have mentioned the Mario Clause for the reason that it was purposefully recorded only on paper." Roger took up his tea and sipped it. "For a hacker of your capability, only the Mario Clause would stop you being able to alter those scores."



Matt stared at him from behind his orange goggles.

"What the fuck is the Mario Clause?"



Roger rose and opened up a safe. Inside was a whole cabinet of documents, neatly filed alphabetically. He selected one and allowed Matt to read it. It informed them all about what L had done. The results were real and Roger knew it. Matt nodded and placed the file down on the settee beside him. He would decide later how to destroy it, but for now he just smirked at Roger.

"So no-one can alter it now. It stands." Matt shook his head. "No, it doesn't work like that. Data causes traces, er, like a bruise, so yes, you can track things that have been shredded, but it doesn't work that some things are irremovable. L's lying. The trouble is that it's going to take me fucking weeks to work it out." Matt leaned forward. "So, what are you going to do now?"



"I am not the only person who knows about the Mario Clause."



"But you are the only person who knows that it's been triggered." Matt hid under his high collar. "Who will you tell that to? Near?"



"It's my duty to..."



"Fuck shit, man!" Matt leapt to his feet. "You are going to push this all the way to the point where I am having to dress in fucking white and run the world. No, that's not going to happen."



"The best person for the job is..."



"Not me! Look at me, Roger!" Matt pulled his hands out of his pockets, gesturing wildly. "You put me in charge of anything and you'll come back to find out I've been playing Guitar Hero all day. You're a psychiatrist! You know it's not all about the intellect! You need the personality too. I'd rather fucking hang myself."



"Please could you refrain from swearing. This is not how you were raised."



Matt's eyes widened.

"My world is falling to bits around me and all you can do is worry about the odd f... ok." He took his cigarettes out. "I'm going outside to think about this." He reached the door and abruptly turned back. "Sorry, Roger." He took out his gun and pointed it. "Can you please come with me?"



Roger calmly watched him from the seat.

"Matt, you won't shoot me. How about I promise not to call anyone while you are having your cigarette, then...?"



Matt shrugged and simply lit his cigarette.

"How about I smoke in here?" He strode across to Roger's desk and sat down. "It's time that someone logged on."



"You said that would release the virus." Roger was half out of his seat, glancing towards the row of telephones. "Please don't wipe out my database, Matt."



"What f... blessed choice have I got?"



"How about I call Near and...?"



"How about you don't?" Matt glared across at him. "You really don't get it, do you? You're supposed to be in our minds and all that is is to manipulate us. Near is a human being. Near cares about this. Mello is a human being. Mello cares about this like you wouldn't believe. I am a human being and I don't give jackshit about it. Start from those principles and work out. Put me in the Beyond Birthday category and give the fuck up on me."



"May I stand?" Roger was starting to sound as frail as he looked. Matt indicated that he could. Roger walked across to a door and opened it. Within seconds, Matt was beside him peering in. It was a long room full of filing cabinets and drawer units. Roger slowly walked towards the 'M' section and pointed. "Please open this drawer."



Matt did as he was told and uncovered a motley collection of items and papers. It took him a while to understand what they were. They were the detrius of childhood creativity, things which couldn't be quantified in statistics and evaluations. They were his things, a teddy bear which he vaguely remembered from flashes of life before The Wammy House; a jumper, in holes, which he hadn't been able to squeeze into since he was seven; paintings which, in a normal house, might have been fixed to the fridge door with magnets. The sort of things that parents keep as momentos of moments in time. Matt looked up and back, his glance taking in dozens of similar drawers. One for every child that ever passed through this institution. He felt weak.



Roger leaned heavily upon his stick. "I wish you had known Watari a little better, Matt. You might have received a better idea of what we were about here. It was never as you have implied. Have you never considered the options open to you had you not been here?"



"What's this?" Matt lifted out an hermetically sealed bag.



"The clothes you wore when you were found. They have been kept in case you ever needed to revisit those times." Roger placed his hand on Matt's bicep. "Be careful if you do. They are covered in blood."



Matt dropped them back into the drawer, as if they were somehow alive and dangerous. He closed it and took Roger's arm to support their progress back into the main office. It was too much to take in.

"So there was love too?" Matt spoke steadily. "If you love me, you'd tell me what I need to do to revoke the, erm, Mario Clause. Why the... why did he call it the Mario Clause?"



"I can only assume it was more appropriate than the Chocolate Clause or the Fingerpuppet Clause."



"You're freaking me out." Matt led them back to the easy chairs and retrieved his cup of tea. His cigarette now smoked, he used the saucer to extinguish the butt, then dropped that into his pocket. "So the only way out of the Mario Clause is to call Near... why do we need to call Near?"



"Because he's..." Roger grimaced. "He is actually in charge these days, Matt."



"Because he's number one? So he gets to decide what happens to me?" Matt beamed. "But he's only number one, because he rated higher and Mello, let's be honest about this, let him take the position. So, if someone else scored higher, they would be number one and their word would be law?"



"Allow a old man a moment to catch up with your logic." Roger glanced at the gun. "I would be very grateful if you would put that away. Preferably in the drawer."



"Sorry, no." Matt was thinking. "Near's only role here is as decision-maker? No codes or passwords with him that we'd need to access."



"I don't know. Originally, my only role here would have been to tell L. Near is the new L."



"Right." Matt smirked. "Then the information existed inside L's head. Near wouldn't know what it is any more than we would." He stuck his chin underneath his collar again and let the fake fur tickle it. In the absense of any games, his collar was his favourite solitary distraction. "Only that's not why you need to call Near. You need to get from him a decision about the position, not the reversal for the database."



"That's correct."



"No. So we're back to square one. I think I know now how to reverse the scores, but it is going to take me days to do it. I can stop you using the database in the meantime, but that's going to involve a lot of cat and mouse with viruses and anti-viruses, plus Mello is home and he will work out what's going on. I need a week's grace then to destroy any evidence without anyone looking into the database while there's work in progress. After that week, you will have no evidence to show Near and I could just tell him you've gone senile or something. No pic, no proof. 'kay?" Matt peered out over his goggles to blink at the horrified look on Roger's face. "If you just disappeared for a week, everyone would be searching for you. The database would be the first place they'd look for clues, if only to see what you were last working on. Near, at least, would read that shit." He shrugged. "Same thing if I just shot you to shut you up. Mello probably would, if he was me."



"You think so?" Roger's hand shook. Only slightly, but it was enough to clatter the teacup against the saucer. "You're not a murderer, Matt. You always cared too much. That's something L and Watari especially always said. You were always the compassionate one."



"No-one put my back up against the wall before." Matt lit another cigarette. "You don't know what I'm capable of then."



"I've never known anyone work so hard to fail." Roger whispered. "Always third."



"That wasn't failure." Matt smoked silently. Roger watched him. Eventually he finished the cigarette and reached up to remove his goggles. Green eyes, unveiled, gazed directly at the older man. "I need your silence for a week. Maybe for longer."



"I cannot, Matt, I'm so sorry."



"No, you will not. There is a distinction." Matt didn't sound surprised. He had already deduced that that would be the answer. "Roger, in all of your observations of me, what would you say would happen if I was ever in a position of having to protect Mello?"



"I would say that you would do anything in your power."



"There's a third way, you see. If I cannot shut you up and if I haven't the time left to make this ok again, then I could just remove the problem." He smiled at Roger's lack of comprehension. "All bets are off if the person scoring higher is simply not there anymore." He raised his gun and placed it at his own temple. "Right now, I feel like I'm protecting Mello. It's you be silent for a week or I shoot my brains out right now. Can you think of anything else?"



"You won't shoot yourself, Matt." Roger began, but caught the expression on Matt's face and quickly held up his hands. "Ok, please lower the gun. A week's silence. You have a week's silence." He watched the gun return to the folds of Matt's jacket. "I really hope that you were bluffing just now. I really hope that."



Matt took out his mobile 'phone and switched it on.

"I'm going to need a bed for the week. Is my room still free?"



"Were you bluffing, Matt?" Roger demanded.



"You want to know if I'm suicidal?" Matt grinned. "Yes, probably. I've just texted Mello to say I'm disappearing for a week and I can't tell him where I am. Yes, that sounds pretty suicidal from where I'm sitting." He switched off his telephone and dropped it into his pocket. "And for your information, no he's not... that is to say, you don't have to save me from him."



"You are lovers."



"Yes."