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Chapter 53
Sam turned his face to him. "I'll try it." He closed his eyes briefly and repeated. "Will you bring Tamara back?" Sam was bugging that question. "If Tamara is alive, I'll bring her back." "Will you bring Tamara back?" emphatically. "God, man, what do you want to hear from me, that I buckle up her body and pull her through the streets?" "Will you bring Tamara back?" Sam had to be very strong in order not to beat or strangle him. She took a deep breath and answered in a squeezed voice. "I will bring Tamara back."
As if he had not noticed their hostility, he began to instruct Sam in handling the PC and other equipment. Sam had been surfing the Homepage of 'Symbolia' for two nights and had clearly exceeded the agreed three hours per day. It was a lot of fun. The atmosphere in the chat and forums was pleasant. The 'conversation partners' funny and friendly. In particular, Sam often chatted with a man whose nickname was 'Mephisto'. Sam had logged on under the name 'Devil Angel'. Mephisto had been there since the founding of 'Symbolia' and was apparently a leader in the group. He talked about the strong community and the cohesion among the members.
If Sam had not known better, she might have thought she was recruited by a Boy Scout. Sam sat cross-legged on her couch with the keyboard in her lap. Beside her was a bowl of chips. Mephisto logged into the forum and Sam pounded the keys with two fingers. "Hi Mephisto" she wrote.
"Hi Devil Angel" next to the words appeared the caricature of an angel with devil horns. Sam grinned. Mephisto knew better with the medium PC better than she.
"Private chat?" Mephisto wrote. Sam thoughtfully put some salty chips in his mouth. That was Mephisto's first invitation. She had worked hard for two nights and had lost his temper.
"Sure" she typed.
As if by magic, a small window opened on Sam's screen. Below was: Invitation from Mephisto - accept? Sam clicked yes.
"Nice to see you" Sam still had not gotten used to the Chater language.
"Yes"
"So monosyllabic today?"
"I'm bored."
"Do you have a picture of you?"
"No current."
"Ne webcam?"
"Do not know how to do that."
"Turn it on, I'll send you the link, just click on it and I'll see you."
"No"
"No?"
"No!" ??????
"You first."
"Then get down your firewall and send me the link."
Sam reached for the small ring binder that Benedict had put together. With flying fingers she flew over the alphabetical register. F like Firewall - hastily scanned the sub-topics. There, finally. Disable firewall (shutdown). Sam looked at the screen. The cursor blinked behind "Still there?" Sam hastily typed "moment" and looked up in the register under W like webcam. Install webcam (start up). She frowned in annoyance. Benedict thought she was limited, every foreign word was explained by him. Anyway, she had to concentrate on her assignment. She read the instructions and took the necessary steps. "Ready" she typed relieved "Link?" Shit, Sam grabbed the ring binder again. Link? Under L nothing was to be found over Link.
"Is there another word for Link?" Sam needed Mephisto's help if she wanted to go a step further today. "Address?" Sam fumbled. She found it. Address for network meetings. Well at least Benedict trusted her to know what a meeting was. She typed in the address. As if by magic, the screen split in half. The left half was black, in the right was still the private chat with Mephisto open. In the middle of the dark area, a bright spot appeared and gradually grew larger. Sam was startled when an attractive man waved from half of her screen to her.
He wore a burgundy dressing gown, full, dark hair that had turned Gray at the temples. His skin was deep brown, his eyes were bright. He gave her a friendly smile. He did not look like Sam had imagined him. She had counted on a beefy guy in black clothes with stringy, black hair, with a crazy look and numerous piercings and tattoos. She saw a small black staff next to his right ear that reached almost to the corner of his mouth. As he moved his lips, the words appeared in the chat window. "Disappointed?"
"You're old." He threw himself theatrically against his chest. "That hurts." "Sorry"
"Now you"
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