The moon silently hung in the night sky, illuminating the darkened valley.
The night air was cold and crisp, giving a feeling of tension and anticipation. The streetlights casting pools of light down the road.
"She said it would be around here..." I thought.
"He runs a shop on the south side of town called "Runner's Rally". Not the greatest name, I know-" said Margret. "He's a bit of a recluse; not too fond of people but shouldn't give you much of a problem."
Pulling up I noticed the building was a bit worn down; "Not much business." I thought.
I walked up to the door, about to ring the bell. "You a customer?" A voice asked.
I looked around, then I noticed a camera above me built into the overhead light. "Yeah, Margrete sent me."
"...Margrete?" He replied, a certain "surprise" in his voice.
The door slowly opened; I walked in and down an old hallway, paint peeling off the walls. "Down here-" The voice said.
"Déjà vu..." I thought, as I stepped into a room filled with monitors. A thin, shrimpy man laid upon a runner's chair. His neural implant hooked into a server the size of a fridge behind him.
"You know Margret?" He asked, lifting up his BD player.
"We're neighbors..." I replied, looking around the room. It wasn't the cleanest space; the stench of processed foods and ramen hung in the air. "She said you could look into something for me."
"Figures she would," he sighed, "Always asking for favors. What is it?"
"Take a look at this-" I replied, placing the shard down on the desk.
He set his BD player down, moving over to the desk. "Isn't damaged, but a bit old- Where did you find it?" He asked, slotting the shard into his computer.
"It was given to me." I said, "They never told me what was on it."
The monitor came on; "Hm, I'll run a diagnostic check then." he clicked on the shard's icon, then a list of red coding came across the screen.
"What are we looking at?" I asked.
"Nothing much-" He replied, "Standard memory drive shard, meant for storing data."
"Nothing...?"
"Yeah, nothing of interest... Wait-" he said, pulling up a line of coding. "There's a poem."
"A poem? What does it say?"
"Lost In your webbing-"
"My love reaching worlds apart-"
"Our Eden, we made-"
That word struck me, "Eden...?" I thought.
"It seems to be a haiku for someone-" He said, "Shard must be someone's feelings for another."
"Hm..." Something about it didn't sit well with me. "That's all there is?" I asked.
"I can copy the data and dig a little deeper if you want." He replied.
"Fine by me." I replied, "What's it gonna cost?"
He sat back in his chair, "Hm, free if you can set me up with Margret." he smirked, handing me the shard.
"No." I bluntly replied.
"Hmf." He pouted, "50 eddies."
I put the cash on the desk, "Cheap bastard." I muttered.
"Pleasure doing business with you!" he said, waving goodbye.
I was about to head out the door when an idea hit me. "Hey-" I said, turning around. "There's something else I'd like you to do."
"What'd he say?" Asked Margret, as I stepped out of the truck.
"Data shard, nothing else-" I replied.
"That all? Shit- coulda hoped for some cash on that thing, eh?" She snickered.
"No- the money I get tomorrow should be enough," I scratched my scuffled chin, "There was something though..."
"Oh? Do tell~" she said, joining me as we leaned on the truck together.
"A poem-" I said, "A "haiku" is what he called it..."
"Hai-what?" Responded Margrete as she lit a cigarette.
"Lost In your webbing-"
"My love reaching worlds apart-"
"Our Eden, we made-"
I looked up to the night sky, "Think it means anything?" I asked.
Margrete sighed, blowing a puff- "Sounds like our friend had the hots for someone, wrote her a damn love letter."
"What?" I smiled, "Don't believe in love letters?"
"Nah-" She replied, taking another puff. "A pack of cigs and a six pack-" She sighed, "That's my idea of a love letter."
"Straight and simple huh?" I laughed.
"Of course, a midnight truck ride wouldn't be so bad..." She smiled softly, her eyes turning to meet mine.
I felt as my hand touched my keys, "Heh-"
The chatter of a keyboard filled the air as Margrete's friend looked further into the shard's data. "Wait..." He said, looking closer. "The poem, this sequence..."
He sat back in his chair, "What if-" he input a command rearranging the poem into a binary coding.
"01000010011011000110000101100011011010110010000001010111011000010110110001101100"
"What- this is..."
Suddenly, the monitor went red, as thousands of black numbers raced across the screen.
"Wha- WAIT!!"
His head popped like a balloon, staining his room and computer red.
His hand fell limp, knocking over a broken frame; that of a young man, with a red-haired woman.
"Next time I'll bring the beer-" it read. At