Read Online Multiversum by Leonardo Patrignani - Free Book Online Page B

interesting field to investigate, and the one that yielded the most useful information — that didn’t exactly comply with the letter of the law. Marco had managed to worm his way into the databanks of the main national telecommunications companies, and he had created an algorithm that sifted through all the text messages exchanged by people and looked for matches for the search terms. Privacy be damned, he said.
    The central processor was starting to crunch the numbers.
    After less than ten minutes, the purple progress bar that dominated the middle of the screen reached one hundred per cent, and the first results started to appear. The screen started filling up with links, bibliographic lists, and authors’ names. Marco knew that it would take more time to go through and analyse that information. He’d also have to add some further input to eliminate the less useful hits.
    He picked up his smartphone and texted his friend:
    I’ve found some information . I’m going to need to think it over. Go take a walk, get something to eat. We can talk later.
    Alex read the message and understood that he had no alternatives. Now that the tension had subsided somewhat, he realised that he was pretty hungry. At first, what had happened had killed his appetite entirely. But it was early afternoon by now, and his friend’s advice was starting to seem reasonable. He walked down the Esplanade in the opposite direction from the way he’d come in the taxi.
    He walked past a couple of bars. Then he noticed the sign outside a restaurant. It was called Steak Mex! and it looked like the kind of place where you could get a plate of excellent food for ridiculously high prices. He went past it. A short distance further on, he saw a shop that sold pizza by the slice and decided that was the place for him.
    He sat down at a table in the shade and put his backpack on the next seat over. He ordered a slice of pizza and some potato wedges. As he waited for his food, he propped his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands, slipping into darkness and taking refuge in that corner of solitude until the waiter brought him his meal.
    On the other side of the world, Marco was printing out pages and pages of findings, highlighting paragraphs, processing further blocks of data on his computer, and jotting down notes on an A4 pad of graph paper. He felt he was on the verge of an explanation — an incredible explanation for what had happened to Alex, but one that fit. He’d already formed an idea; all he had to do now was to check out certain bits of information. It all might lack a credible foundation, it might seem surreal, not to mention paranormal, but his lead took him down a trail that pointed in only one direction. Unless his friend was suffering from some kind of mental problem, there was only one explanation for everything that was happening. An answer that sprang from a question Marco had first asked himself years and years ago, the day of the accident that had killed both his parents.
    The screen of Alex’s phone lit up suddenly, while he was drinking watery coffee from a large cardboard cup.
    â€˜I have a lead. Let me start by saying that it’s going to seem completely absurd to you. You can laugh at me if you want. But if we say for certain that you’re not mentally disturbed, then there’s only one solution to the puzzle. And that’s the only solution worth focusing on from this point forward.’
    â€˜I’m all ears.’
    â€˜We’re talking about something that the human race still doesn’t fully understand.’
    â€˜I’ve travelled halfway around the world to talk to a girl I’ve only ever contacted through my mind … I’m ready for anything.’
    â€˜Then tell me this: when did these attacks first start?’
    â€˜Four years ago. You know that.’
    â€˜Right. You started to hear voices, see things. It was all very muddled; the