GENESIS (GODS CHAIN) (19 page)

At the same time
,
Francesca’s mind was whirring around the problems experienced throughout the system.
T
he
login stage one, authentication complete
...
now
,
where is the difficulty? Why can
’t
the others login?

Sharply, eyes staring wide at the screen, she ignored
the endless ringing of her phone. Instead, she
studi
ed
her system alerts,
the
green square indicators
that
fil
ed
down
the
left window of her computer screen, top to bottom like water dropping from a tap.

Things looked ok
...
all on the green
.
S
o why can’t people login
?
L
et me just ping a few connections
...s
ervers seem ok, file system volumes all mounted fine,
h
ealth checks all on the green, except login monitor which was on the red
...
?

Good replies
,
too
....
T
hat was
to be
expected
.
T
he switches seem ok as well
,
so the problem can’t be the
n
etwork
...
l
et me check
the
m
onitor
c
onsole
.

Francesca logged in remotely from
the
additional computer system
she maintained on the
desk to her left
.
M
h
mm
...
logins have been disabled on the Directory Services Tree!
But who could have done that?
Who would want to?
The
s
ystems
a
dministrator tried to analyse th
e
extraordinary puzzle in her mind
as she took quick steps to restore login capabilities for the rest of her co-workers.

The “Tree”
was
a structure of computer objects representing different items in the main Vatican Bank computer systems
—it
controlled Users, Printers to System Resources, access to files, services like
e-
mail and flowing access control to other systems resources like Unix Databases.
It was a strategic system
that put
great responsibility
on
T&O
, who were
n
ot
highly
paid individuals
,
as was always the case.

‘What’s the status
,
Francesca?’ Ciriaco
complained as he
arrived.
‘They need to know!
We don’t want our Holy
F
ather’s Bishop Boys Boot team Bible bashing us again?’ he was trying to sound
light-hearted
but not really pulling it off
.
His
half
-
awkward smile and
unusually
shaky voice
revealed his nervousness
.

He must have been getting
a
real hassle
,
Francesca
realized, feeling sorrier than ever that she had been so late today. She
typed at the console the command “Enable logins”
and then
look
ed
up with her large brown eyes towards Ciriaco, smil
ing
into his anxious green eyes with a reassuring nod.

‘That’s it
,
Ciriaco, it
’
s fixed.’
S
he spoke calmly and quietly
,
totally confident
that
the problem
was
resolved
.
‘All the
d
isciples
are online, ready and on the green now.
All systems and services working normally
,
kid.’
She was not telling the whole truth
, of course, but as far as he needed to know everything was just fine
.
Ciriaco’s
expression changed as
she gave him the news—
his flushed face became much cooler and
easier in tone, normal again
.
J
ust like the system. Francesca also
began to
relax as her tension
melted into
her
imaginary l
ake.

Ciriaco Esposito was only about twenty, if that, but was a bit too highly strung to be a
good
Helpdesk Operator.
How he got the job Francesca could never guess
,
but did not regret
the opportunity it had given her to meet him
.
Ciriaco
was nice and
fairly attractive,
with short
,
dark designer
-
stubble on his strong chin
and an
athletic
, if compact,
frame.
He wore his
short
,
spiky hair gelled up
in the
“
wet
”
look, like a model. Francesca liked his starry green eyes
,
although
she
would not
dream of indicating her attraction.
M
mm.
..
she thought.

‘
Grazie
!
I’ll get on the blower pronto!’
He smiled with deep admiration for her skill
—
or was it affection
for
her? He shifted his slim frame
and
slowly headed back to the
h
elpdesk area with renewed confidence.
Francesca
watched
him as he walked back up the
a
isle to the glass door entrance to the office about twenty metres from her.
Her heart rac
ed a
little
more
quickly
than usual
.
O
ooh,
I’m sure he likes me
...
she pondered
Ciriaco
, her lake rippling a little. A new alert turned her on to the red
,
but it was nothing to do with computing!

‘Oh! Snap out of it
,
Francesca
,
he’s too young
for you
.
Baby snatcher!
’ Paulina Toscano said clearly but not too loudly.
‘
You’re no better than those
c
ontractor guys! Perv
,’ she joked.
‘
That cutie is only eighteen or nineteen years old.’
S
he paused
,
smiling
.
‘So what’s been going on
,
then?’
Paulina sat down at her seat and logged into the system
,
effortlessly as
usual
, unaware of everything that had happened in her absence
.

With mixed thoughts, Francesca laughed a little
in embarrassment
as she
brushed scattered wisps of hair out of her face. She
turn
ed
to Paulina as her colleague spoke with excitement.

‘By the way
,
did you hear the latest? Last Friday night the
c
ommission
ai
r
e
at the door
—it was Mario—spoke
briefly with
Michaelangelo
,
who
handed him an envelope
,
said
buonanotte
,
and
then seemingly
left
for the weekend.
When Mario opened the envelope
,
it contained
Michaelangelo
’s
ID card and
the
keys to the office,
s
erver and
c
ommunications rooms!
What do you think is up with him?
I
do not
think he is coming back
!
He must be
gone for good
...
strange
,
eh?’
Paulina rattled on, oblivious to Francesca’s reaction.