Thursday 1st Feb 2018

I didn’t have to wait long for news. The very next morning I got a phone call from a private number. I answered it to hear a robot at the other end of the line.

“Hi Soph-ie,” it droned. “I found your stud-ent acc-ount.”

I debated whether to end the call. “Is this a recorded message?”

“Oh, wait-a min-ute,” said the robot. There was a click and then Ethan’s voice came over the line. “Sorry about that. I forgot to switch off the distorter.”

I decided not to ask why he had a voice distorter built into his phone line. “Hello Ethan. How did it go with the hacking? Do you have any news?”

“Yeah I do,” he said. There was a pause. “Um… Sophie, are you involved with some kind of international agency?”

“What?”

“It was tricky to find any trace of you in the university system. I’ll say this, whoever deleted you knew what they were doing. They replaced your record with a fake name in all linked systems and all backups for the whole academic year. I only found you at all because you attended some kind of pre-enrolment workshop thing. Somehow the hacker missed that.”

That knitting workshop! Thank god my former foster mother persuaded me to go.

Ethan continued. “And once I’d figured out the alias they switched you for, it was pretty easy to find the rest of your record. By the way, you’re now a black guy named Cole Havers.”

“Oh my god!” That struck me as hilarious. “But do you have any idea who did it?”

There was a pause. “Yeah, um… that’s why I was asking you about agencies. This looks like it was done by someone from the future.”

I didn’t get it. “Someone from the future? Like a time traveller?”

He chuckled. “Ok, that answers my previous question. No it’s nothing to do with time travel. The name of the organisation is ‘The Future’. Which, by the way, is a stupid name that they stole from a film. They’re all a bunch of stuck-up idiots who do things because they think it’ll make them look cool.”

It appeared that Ethan might have a personal history with this agency. Interesting.

“But that’s not all,” he continued. “Before they replaced your record with the dummy one, it looks like they were trying to push you into a certain study route.”

I went cold. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, there are like a million tags attached to your record stating that you’re not eligible for certain courses. Did you ever have trouble enrolling online for things?”

“Yes, I did actually.” I’d always found it strange that the classes I wanted to take filled up so quickly. I’d done exactly as instructed and attempted to enrol through the online portal but each and every time I’d received messages informing me that enrolment for the course in question wasn’t possible. In most cases I’d got around the problem by going along to the classes and speaking to the lecturers in person. They were always perfectly pleasant, apologised for the abysmal failure of the student portal and promised to enrol me manually. Every one of them was surprised to hear about the problems I’d had.

“And your grades in some courses were modified to give you higher scores in the maths and engineering fields,” said Ethan.

“What the fuck!”

“Yeah.” I heard him typing. “Like here, your grade for Introductory Statistics was modified from 69% to 83%. My guess is that someone wanted to push you to do more statistics.”

I’d always wondered how in hell I managed to do so well on that exam. My head was spinning. “But why would anyone do that?”

“My guess is that the guys from The Future had plans for you. I don’t know what, but it obviously involved you knowing a lot about statistics. But then again they could have just been messing with you. I know those guys and that’s kind of their deal. The big question is why they picked on you as a target. Again, that’s why I asked if you were involved with them in any way?”

“No absolutely not. I’d never even heard of them.”

“Yeah well, maybe it was a random attack then. I saw in the record that you don’t have any registered family and that makes you an easy target. Like I said, they’re idiots.”

“Sounds like you know something about them?”

“Yeah they’ve tried several times to recruit me, but I couldn’t see the point of aligning myself with such a bunch of dumbasses. I’m already better than their best guy. What would be in it for me? Anyway I prefer to be an independent agent. A lone wolf, you know?”

“That makes sense.”

More rapid typing at the other end. “So what do you want? I can undo what they did, erase Cole and reinstate your student record without any of the tags. But I can’t guarantee they won’t get up to the same tricks again. Plus it looks like you’ve already missed a week of classes. Do you have the urge to go back to studying?”

“Ugh, no!” The strength of my reaction took me by surprise.

He laughed. “You’ve already had a taste of freedom, haven’t you. I’ll leave it as it is then. Do you want me to change anything else while I’m in the system?”

I didn’t have a clue what I wanted. “No, it’s ok. Leave me as Cole.” If we made changes, it was conceivable that this creepy-ass organisation would notice and come after me. I shivered. “Thanks, Ethan. I owe you one.”

Shit! Idiot, Sophie. Why did I say that?

He sounded amused. “You’re lucky I’m already grateful to you for introducing me to my new publicist. If you did owe me one, it’d be quite some debt. I don’t come cheap let me tell you.”

“Er… You never struck me as the cheap kind.” Oh dear, that sounded like flirting. Stop Sophie, stop!

“So let me know if there’s anything more I can do.” He sounded serious. “I mean it, I’m willing to help you out for the sake of giving those idiots the middle finger.”

“That’s really nice of you. I’ll let you know.”

I put the phone down with my head in a whirl. I’d theorised about being the victim of a secret organisation, but everything seemed terrifying now I had proof that this was actually the case.

Question: What on earth am I supposed to do now?

Later…

News of the cyber-attack has seriously freaked me out, Dear Diary. I don’t even dare to search for anything on Google in case those hacker guys have somehow tapped my laptop. And what on earth could I find that would be helpful? It’s not like they’ll have set up an informative website explaining their plans and their reasons for targeting a poor orphan like me. I’ve been fretting for hours. I even turned down an invitation to go for lunch with Layla and Dylan because I felt so spaced out. How do you explain something like this? ’Sorry guys, I can’t come for lunch because I’m pondering the reasons why I might have become the latest cyber-victim of a mysterious organisation who altered all my student details.’ It’s not exactly what you want to hear from your new flatmate.

You know what? That’s it. My entire life has been subject to disruption and change and I’m thoroughly sick of it! The crime they’ve perpetrated is worse than identity theft. I’d call it Life Theft! I don’t know how I’m going to manage it, but those bastards are going to pay.

I was still too spooked to touch my laptop, so for want of anything better to do I spent a while flicking back through my diary entries and was struck by the description of my original meeting with Smirk Guy. I’d almost forgotten about him. Could he be the key to this whole mystery? From the moment I saw him, I got the distinct impression that he knew more about me than he should. Maybe he’s connected to The Future? Maybe he’s one of them! Maybe he’s the leader and organised this whole thing. And the reason he kept turning up to gloat at me was because he enjoyed seeing me confused and in pain!

That’s it. I’m going to find him. And kill him.

Possible murder weapons:

- Batter him to death with my now unusable laptop

- Suffocate him with a plastic bag

- Stab him with a pen (And then write a triumphant diary entry in his blood.)

Still later…

Oh my goooooooooood, stakeouts are boring.

I’ve been staking out Study Nook Cafe, a watering hole located in the students’ union building. I selected this venue because the union lobby is the place (if you remember, Dear Diary), where I first saw Smirk Guy and where Layla saw him on the day I moved into the new flat. Going by the laws of probability (you’ve heard about my high marks in statistics, haven’t you?), this is the most likely place to find him again.

The cafe has a handy glass front so I can see most of the entrance hall. I’ve spread out my books and shit so it looks like I’m studying but you can bet your life I’m ready to run like mad if I should catch a glimpse of his grinning face.

3:27pm Could be any minute now…

3:38pm Concentrate Sophie.

4:02pm Just caught myself daydreaming again. Maybe I don’t have the temperament for this. Maybe I’d be better suited as a supermarket cashier who is ultimately replaceable and doesn’t need to worry about life theft. Maybe I’d have

4:05pm Concentrate!

4:17pm This is worse than when I tried to meditate. How do police officers and spies cope with this?

4:56pm I forced myself not to write any more, the result of which is that my diary has acquired a whole new set of doodles and looks very pretty. Honestly, Dear Diary, I’m inclined to admit defeat. I’m fairly sure that I haven’t spent more than 3 consecutive minutes actively watching in the past couple of hours. Maybe I should go home and then tomorrow I could see if Layla and Dylan want to

Oh my god, is that him?!