What does a Recruitment Consultant do? (video)
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Requiem: Chapter 3
- “It's Yukiko. Come on. Onegai ! Please! Open up and turn off all your wolf traps, so I won't inflate myself by accident.'I waited more or less patiently. As always, Gekko took his time to check everything. But then, who could you trust in these uncertain times? The intercom cracked: 'Sorry, Yu. You know the procedure. For the same money, you're a cloned version and you'll be roasting my sublime and unique brain with a laser gun.’ I sighed for a moment and pushed my thumb into the recess on the security panel in the doorframe. At the same time, I kept my eye on the spy while I clearly said my name: 'Yukiko Mitsukai.'Gekko did not like surprises. The door clicked out of the lock and I slipped in a hurry. The corridor was an airlock where I was given a shower with a fog that after a few minutes was sucked back into the ceiling via a grid. A cautious man made sure that he was as little as possible exposed to radioactive particles as they carried on.. I was now to the strict standards of my friend Gekko, sterile enough to meet him. Even though he knew that I was extremely cautious and did not enter the fallout zones, he did not want to take any risks. Somewhere in his condition I could understand and besides, Gekko was Gekko! “Gekko, this is urgent!Patience was no longer one of my better qualities. This had changed since my parents' death. I knew my father would reprike me if he was still alive.. That wasn't “Akai.”. ‘ Entrez, Mon Chere , 'he welcomed with a laughable French accent and the interconnecting door slipped open almost without sound and closed behind me when I had taken a few steps inside. His preference for phrases in foreign languages and his flawed pronunciation was sometimes hilarious, but it usually brought life to the brewery. ‘ Konnichiwa , Gekko-San.'I greeted the ict-guru as I raised my hand with an outstretched index finger as an informal greeting. Immaculate was a euphemism for the room where Gerekko Dai, Gekko for the friends and Mad Gekko for those who were not, spent most of his time in. Rarely would he leave the safe haven of his own room he designed. Exceptionally maybe in emergencies and even then his superbrain would find something to solve the emergency situation in no time.. An accidental fire alarm wouldn't move an inch outside his sheltered space. From his ultra-modern wheelchair, where he laced through his delineated realm with artistic finesse, he conjured his hands over an elongated horizontal touch screen. He touched a spot on this hardware here and there, controlling the oxygen supply, air conditioning and wall cooling, the full energy supply of his living space and, if necessary, he also hacked into the safety systems of the entire building and all of its devices.. The residents had, without knowing it, an eccentric guardian of the angel under their midst. Of course, through this system his daily order of a pizza ' quattro formaggi'. I think he really couldn't do without. His disability, a malformation of the lower body from birth, a consequence of radiation sickness in his mother, did not prevent him from being extremely mobile. Even if it was within the four walls of his empire. It also explained its immense fear of any visitors. I found myself in one of his easy deck chairs, a combination of futon and tatami with the touch of modern technology that Gekko's own. The furniture moved directly to my preferred position, a piece of information in the electronic memory of the recliner that responded to my stored prints, weight and movement pattern. I sighed! It was something I've been doing more lately. “You know..., “said Gekko as he monster me through his design owl glasses, “the soup is never eaten so hot... or anything like that.. Nankurunaisa , it's all gonna be fine again... you know, by the way, 'he obviously felt bored with the situation. ‘ Goshuushou ! Condolences.“Then he turned his vehicle one hundred and eighty degrees with a movement of his right hand over a sensor and went back into the data on his touchscreen and the various displays that flopped on and off. With his fur-colored hawaiian shirt and his glasses shouting 'NERD' in capital letters, he was a 'special'. I had a kind of hate love affair with this man. Gekko could sometimes make me drive up the walls with his meaningless or overly specific information. On the other hand, I had never been able to claim that it had broken up my acid to listen to his advice. At other times he could make me laugh with a single word but unfortunately the opposite was also true. He was a puzzle I was still making. But who would have to wait for other issues to be resolved. I had taken some leave, I had a lot of overtime I would never have taken.. Hopefully, I now had plenty of time to do what I had come to Gekko. “I want to ask you something...?'I started hesitantly. “That smells suspicious. Something that tends to illegality, 'was the brainful remark of the busy bee, who, like a wizard, made a slight turn on and off. “All right, Yu, I owe you a hundred years, so let it come, how can I make you happier today? A virtual trip to Yosemite National Park or a free weekend wellness spa at a trendy five-star hotel or just please you with my always appreciated pleasant presence! All experiences of which your toes will curl with pleasure, Gekko can deliver it all to you,... of course for a gentle and fair price.’ “I want you to hack into the Security Service site!’ The hands of Wizard Gekko kept floating in the air for a few seconds after my question. Slowly he lowered them and turned around. On his face had appeared a serious look. 'You know that there are quite bad punishments on it. One of those punishments you can sometimes end up in prison for. A place where you usually forget to die by everyone and may I remind you that they don't have my favorite pizza there... ', he looked at me without expressiveness over his glasses and there was a nasty silence between us. 'No problem, 'it suddenly sounded out of his mouth, where a sneaky grin appeared on. He shoved his glasses a little higher over his nose and turned back to his equipment, “what can I help you with today, forfeit a fine or give someone who wants to make you a long nose in retribution.?’ When I did not answer directly and he looked at me again questioning, I could not wipe the tears in time. No, I didn't want to, show weakness was for sissies. I cursed in the mouth but loud enough to get a raised eyebrow from Gekko, a black horizontal question mark without the tip, just seen above his flashy green design glasses. “When I asked the security officer if they had a trace of my parents' murderer or murderers, I got a lot of evasive answers.. We are following several tracks and unfortunately we can not give you anything concrete. Blah, blah.. You know, a lot of bleats but little wool, and yet I felt like they knew more than they told, something important maybe. That's why I was thinking about you, Gekko, if anyone can uncover their secrets, it's you..’ Gekko's broad grimace on the lips testified that he was clearly flattered, which, of course, was a calculated intent of my compliment. He held his head slightly tilted while he humming an unrecognizable tune.All right, let's find a back door.“At my questioning look, he explained. 'Every program has one or another ' backdoor' , a kind of loophole that the designer or programmer can use to access the program through a somewhat less orthodox way... by which I mean without using the user's usual password to open the program.’ His hands were busy in the weather. He opened screens, closed others, juggled with his hardware and dozens of programs and after fifteen minutes he looked at me with a satisfied look at his face: 'Bingo. Mom, I'm home!This sounded like a less successful imitation of some forgotten American movie star from last century. Even though there had been no smile on my face for a few weeks now, I had to smile for a moment. Gecko, crazier couldn't be, but he was The Man'. The person who could accomplish things that another did not yet understand the first letter of. ‘ Sugoi , cool”. I saw the Homeland Security logo on one of his screens with one line underneath: Request Dossier :…’. We looked at each other, I swallowed some saliva away from the tension, and Gekko tested the following letter combination on his touchscreen: “Mitsukai”. No Result! Arturo and Sachiko were also not the correct password. “Wrong file name, you have two more turns before your session is automatically closed”, the last disappointing answer was. I leaned disappointed backwards and tried to order my thoughts. How would the Security Service have cataloged this file? Hundreds of alarm bells and thousands of bells would probably go off at the Security Service when entering a fifth wrong input. Then Gekko's efforts were completely useless, perhaps even dangerous for his person if they tracked the hacker. They weren't that retarded at the Security Service now. However, the answer was on my lips, but Gekko was just as rapper than my answer and the word was already there before I had even spoken it: ' Akai ’. ‘ Strike !'cried Gekko triumphantly. It sounded more like Strik' but the result was. A laundry list of data scrolled across the screen and to the left of me a device came into operation, a light buzz accompanied a number of leaves that came out of a slider at the bottom of the printer, I hoped, with answers to my countless questions about the death of my parents. My computer friend made me take the documents. He may have been an outsider sometimes, which he himself always prayed with pride and self-mockery, but he left me my privacy as far as he could restrain his curiosity for a while. 'And...?'asked Gekko after one minute. As far as the limit of his patience. I saw that he had printed the data on interactive slides that worked the same way as his touchscreen. You saw at the top a file title with serial number and date of creation and below there were a number of pressure points in the bold and also a brief description of the facts. I read out loud. Password: AKAI File 190756 NVNW/SA Subject: Arturo Mitsukai - Sachiko Matai Date: 28-12-2111 Security Service Responsible: Superintendent Norino Vastai Deputy Inspector Shi Udesama Deputy Inspector Goro Fukamizu Responsible pathologist anatomist: Kim Huang, Morgue Sanctuary Short summary description logged on 28-12-2111: On Monday 28 December 2111 were the remains of Arturo Mitsukai and Sachiko Matai , his wife, after an anonymous phone call, found in the garden at the address of their domicile: 10 Chome Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo . According to the autopsy, the victims were inflicted several wounds with a sharp object which led to their final death. The murder weapon can be either a sharp knife, a kind of machete or sword. Research into the nature of the weapon is currently being investigated by our services. Given that no traces of blood were found at their home, it is assumed that the murders took place at a different location and that after their death the bodies were moved back to their home by the murderer (s). According to the report of the pathologist anatomist, death must have occurred on December 27, 2111 between 19h00 and 20h00 , dit steunende op de graad van rigor mortis op het moment van de identificatie op 28 December 2111 om 09h25. After the usual chemical analyzes, it was found that there were traces of narcotic substances in their bloodstream ( see blood analysis ). From this determination and analysis of the same substance found in the fogging mechanism of the victims' greenhouse, we can conclude that they were first sedated and then moved to the crime scene where the killer killed them and then brought them back. to their domicile.. My heart was pounding in my throat, I'd already felt better. I skipped the references to photos of the crime scene and pressed the field of ' modus operandi ’. The facts are classified under the heading of the ' Akai murders 'that have occurred in the region for several months. The modus operandi of the offender is similar in all cases. The victims are first sedated somehow, then injured to the bleeds, and then eventually decapitated with the murder weapon, which... I fled gawfully to Gekko's bathroom, where my protesting stomach could deposit its contents in the toilet bowl just in time. ‘ Anata from daijoubu desu ? How's it going, all right? Yu, everything okay?'asked a concerned Gekko on the other side of the bathroom door. 'Let me just... a few minutes to freshen up, 'replied the drawn face I saw looking at me in the mirror. I saw dark shadows, small walks of fatigue and sadness, and eyes with red veins that looked at me accusingly. A tired voice whispered in my head. Where were you when your parents needed you. You could have made a difference . I turned away from the mirror and flushed on. I had told myself a thousand times that I was not to blame for it, but in my head haunted and tormented me the thought that I had abandoned them somewhere. It was my imagination, and I knew it wasn't true, but sometimes I thought that people looked at me accusing, that they were talking about behind my back. “Look at that, Yukiko Mitsukai, she wasn't there to save her parents.“It hurt, God, what did it hurt?! Gekko looked at me disturbing when I came back in. I straightened with all the force I could bring in at that moment my chin. It was an unruly gesture and that carried away his satisfaction. I took the file back where I left it in vain and my eyes flew over the rest of the file. Two names I noticed. There were a number of casualties among gang members of the ' Skeelers ’. Coincidentally, I knew one of those street thugs.. The other name did ring a bell but I couldn't point it at home.. 'Stephen March, what does that tell me, 'I wondered. “You have to press his name, Yu, if any information is attached to it, it will probably be linked to his name.I was startled for a moment. Had I spoken my thoughts out loud? I urgently had to catch up with sleep or accidents would happen. Impatiently I tapped on the name Stephen March printed in text on the interactive slide in bold. copyright Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere Requiem: Chapter 2 or 4 - Requiem: Chapter 2 - Requiem: Chapter 4 -
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Requiem: Chapter 5
- Just in time Stephen March could save himself from a certain death with a lateral leap. The bright red glider drilled into the window of ' Redstone & Son ', a branch of a Western electronics company that had gained a foothold in the New World. One of the first groups to have won this authorization after the Second Cold War. The reinforced windows of the electronics store were no match for the kinetic forces of the runaway vehicle. The window glass splits into countless small pieces. At the last moment, Stephen had seen the murder vehicle rushing at him in the light of the window window. His rapid reaction, an instinctive reflex at the moment itself - was happiness or perhaps the result of his daily workout - had given him that small chance and saved his life. Because most of the pieces of glass had been broken up by the movement of the glider inside the shop space, March had not suffered any serious cuts. His pants and vest were torn and smeared by the fall, and his left leg was a little worse planed by the unsoft contact with the concrete, but the rest was not easy.. While he was still recovering from the first shock, he heard above the panicked screams of the pedestrians who witnessed the event, from the store a metallic scraping. To his great surprise, he saw the red carlide moving out of the storefront and turning to him. Stephen frowned amazed the eyebrows. Apparently, that killing machine was targeting him. This wasn't a coincidence, not an ordinary accident.. His hunch shouted at him a single word: “Run!’. He took the first street on the right at a delirious pace, almost slipping he could just avoid a pedestrian who was angry behind him. A second later he heard a bons accompanied by a creepy scraping sound. Stephen looked backwards and saw the unfortunate passerby crushed by the chasing autobot slipping along the wall in a blood-red pattern. The fear knocked him in the throat, the adrenaline made him run even faster. He thought the Metro, I should get it.. There, the runaway computer car wouldn't be able to follow him. He jumped up the stairs with two steps at the same time that would lead him to the main street via a few inland roads and also to the entrance of the underground train network. Whenever he reached the end of one of those roads, he heard the murderous vehicle approaching and blowing his neck like a hot breath. He walked even faster, and it seemed like he was given wings because of the fear that drove him. Eventually he came into the street where the entrance to the Metro was. He saw it as a redeeming mouth that would swallow it up. Another ten meters. With his last breath he squeezed out one last sprint. With a tiger jump, he plunged forward down the stairs and hurtfully rolled to the bottom of the entrance, where he hoped to be safe from the murderous autobot. Stephen felt vomited. It was a miracle, but apparently he didn't break anything at first sight, even though he was in pain everywhere. He crawled stumbling and leaning against a pillar again upright. The red monster remained hovering in front of the entrance to the Metro for a while and then disappeared out of sight.. People looked at him with fear, and many walked around him in a wide bow.. In the light of a window of a train he saw the reason. He just looked like a wreck. In the toilet of the underground, he tried to decent his clothes some and take up the worst damage. All in all, it turned out to be too easy. All his muscles were stiff due to the intense effort but nothing felt broken to. He bled from a number of small wounds to the elbows and hands. The abrasions on his leg did not look really life-threatening, although it had to be taken care of professionally. Stephen should see a doctor as soon as possible for a skilled patch. Now he no longer looked like a diplomat Stephen March, but more like a clochard who had walked into the wall several times in his alcoholic haze... or perhaps fell down the stairs of the Metro. His first idea was to tell the police everything and file a complaint against strangers. Only then did he realize that he had not seen a license plate number on his murderous stalker. In the New World all gliders or autobots were numbered on the bottom, the doors and the top of the vehicles. So one could immediately see or find out which city or area they came from. In addition, the windows were darkened so that he could not disclose the face of the driver or occupants. weird! He would wait a while to visit the police. His sixth sense told him that he might do more harm than good with that.. After an hour on the emergency service of the nearest hospital, he was given the necessary iodine tincture, special adhesive plasters containing an antibiotic and gauze dressing - and what was especially important - a strong painkiller. His leg was not broken, but still hit worse than he had previously suspected. Stephen told the doctor on duty that he had fallen from the stairs of the subway entrance due to a misstep and sustained those injuries. Even if that was only half the truth, it wasn't a lie. It sounded really convincing how Stephen brought it, but this explanation also avoided any annoying questions from the doctor on duty or a mandatory visit to the law services. Stephen March didn't get high on the Security Service right now, especially after the unsolved murder of his half-sister Suzy. The idea of walking a block and a little more at Redstone & Son to inquire, he also rejected. Maybe any witnesses recognized him while the police were still there investigating the case. What intrigued him most of all was the reason behind this unexpected attack on his person. Why was he attacked, hunted like a wild animal, eventually he was also nearly killed? What was the point, what was behind this, was this connected to Suzy's murder?? All the questions haunted in his head. He felt hunted and anxious and looked around as he sought his way back. When he was back at his apartment, he first poured himself a good whiskey.. He knew that it was not wise to mix medicines and alcohol, but this was an exception to the rule. His hand was still shaking slightly when the golden moisture was poured into the crystal glass. He took a big sip of Chivas Regal. Stephen felt the fluid that immediately warmed him a way to his stomach, which now settled some. Stephen let the last hours before his mind's eye pass. After the identification with Suzy's personal items he had received from Mr. Huang, he went for a walk in the shopping streets of Sanctuary. Getting his feelings back under control after the psychological thump he got in the morgue. Then suddenly the red homicide vehicle that showed up at him? Stephen put the rest of his whiskey glass aside and poured out the contents of the canary yellow plastic bag with his sister's personal belongings, whom he miraculously could have saved during all those struggles of the last few hours, onto the table. There were the usual things that are usually found in the possessions of a woman. First of all, her torn and bloody garments, which he laid apart with due respect and a great piece of dismay. Another example of the lack of sympathy from the New World police forces. In the pocket there was also a torn handbag, a broken lip gloss, a key ring, a hairbrush that had also suffered under the trap, a crushed pack of started paper wipes and a wallet with some banknotes in it, some pictures, but all her credit cards were missing or withheld by the Security Service. Scattered, he was messing around in all the boxes of her wallet when he found between two pictures in a note pleated in two. March immediately recognized Suzy Chang's beautiful female handwriting. There was only one word on it and a number: “Passage 6.”. It didn't tell him anything. That couldn't be the note Captain Vastai was talking about. The conscious note that referred to him? The key ring of four keys he weighed equally predominantly in his palm. He immediately recognized the blue rectangles key of an autobot. Number SW280387. Nothing was referring to that Passage 6. One of the other three keys must have been from Suzy's apartment since the name was printed in the key bar of the residence where she was staying: ' Pinewood House Asurai ’. A number was printed on the tip of the bar: 837. As he already knew, this referred to the eighth floor apartment 37. The other two were still a mystery to him. A mystery that he would certainly try to solve. He wouldn't ask the police what those keys were for.. By the way, if they had been of some interest, he probably wouldn't have gotten it.. Maybe today he took a walk to Pinewood House Asurai. Stephen changed and took the elevator to the underground garage with a painful grimace on his face in his own autobot and entered the address of the residence. The speech recognition program looked this up in its internal memory, started the almost silent drive system and the vehicle automatically slipped into the traffic jam of the pre-programmed route. Stephen leaned weary backwards in the seat and waited with his eyes closed for him to reach his destination.. copyright Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere Requiem: Chapter 4 or 6 - Requiem: Chapter 4 - Requiem: Chapter 6 -
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