Three brothers - color play (eBook)

Frank Oberon (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
334 Seiten
novum publishing (Verlag)
978-1-64268-406-3 (ISBN)

Infos

Rick causes a car accident in the middle of Munich and nothing is the same afterwards. At first, no one believes him that his traffic light was green when he drove into the intersection without braking. Similar mysterious incidents that seem to make no sense become more frequent. After all, murders are happening. And it seems to matter what color the victims' eyes are. Luckily, Rick has two brothers. A lead takes them to the cosmology institute for an obscure lecture on interstellar sleep viruses. Things get really exciting when Rick is able to calculate the course of the anomalies. Together with Rick's girlfriend Samantha and criminal assistant Rebecca from the Munich SoKo, the three brothers uncover something monstrous.

Textauszug

Monday - 16.08.2004

08h30

There is nothing to suggest that this Monday will be a disastrous day. It's a beautiful morning in Munich, already midsummer warm and cloudless. The biggest risk is probably being surprised by a thunderstorm with lightning and thunder.

High above the rooftops, the sun shines golden yellow rays into his loft, which he bought five years ago for the joy of now and not as a provision for tomorrow like others. Nevertheless, a 200-square-meter apartment in the Lehel district is a highly recommended investment. Rick calls it his wigwam. Life there takes place in one room: Sleeping, cooking, eating and drinking, television, office ... everything except showers and toilets. Drunk with sleep, he staggers into the bathroom and takes a long shower. He doesn't normally get up this early.

The Olympic Games in Athens opened three days ago. In the morning there are summary reports from the previous day, today swimming, 400 meters freestyle for the women. Definitely worth watching, he says. Then his thoughts wander over the rooftops of Munich as he sips a freshly brewed cappuccino with relish. Just like every day, really, only not so early.

There is absolutely nothing to indicate a threat that is inexorably approaching.

Rick is in his early thirties, athletic and in good shape. Given his lifestyle, this is actually a miracle. He and his twin brother were born on a St. John's night, Chris on June 21 at 23:50 and Rick on June 22 at 00:15. One indication of the correctness of these dates is their mother Christiane Fox's expression of displeasure that the two boys had ruined St. John's night for her.

 

The twins have probably been mixed up several times. How often is mathematically irrelevant because there are only two states, like the right and left sides of ships: starboard green and port red. The genes couldn't be mixed up anyway, they were the same. So only the names remain, Chris and Rick or Rick and Chris. Presumably they switched back and forth so often until he was sitting on the green, starboard side and was called Rick.

It never bothered him and never interested him. He would always stand here today and realize that he had to hurry or he would be late for the notary appointment he had with his brothers in the city centre. It's about the estate of their parents, who died in a traffic accident six months ago. The notary has to check in person whether the three brothers are the ones she, as a high-born organ of the administration of justice, has designated and invited as the only survivors and sole heirs. The brothers do not see each other that often because they have different interests and live in different places. For family gatherings, someone has to marry or die. The latter are naturally becoming fewer and fewer and the former are not so many and the few don't want to, despite all the good coaxing.

That's why today is an event of the latter kind and should be approached with care and empathy. Rick is ready for this. To this end, he has resisted all temptations the evening before, which were ready for smoking in the drawer or chilled for drinking in the fridge, in order to present a neat, solid, well-shaved and combed fellow citizen today. To round off the good impression, he has also decided to carry a briefcase, although he doesn't yet know what to put in it. He wants to wear a light grey suit, an old pink T-shirt with a round neckline, a brown belt and Spanish espadrilles in a matching color, but no socks or underpants. It's summer. He doesn't think stockings and underpants are cool and you can't completely throw your principles overboard, even when the family clan is ante portas.

 

Rick is self-employed and earns his money by programming algorithms. He realized his passion for numerical mathematics late in life when he happened to notice that he had a natural ability to recognize patterns. And not patterns on wallpaper or on clothing fabrics, but in data series. Over time, he has developed a feeling for the mathematical operations he needs to apply to data series in order to elicit their telltale, unique patterns. Today, he has a large reservoir of such algorithms, which he offers as a freelance programmer to well-known companies from various industries.

 

The tidbits in his C code collection are prediction models for events that, as the name suggests, lie in the future. Based on values from the past, he can virtually see into the future by adding precise initial and boundary conditions. Similar to the weatherman. However, with the not insignificant difference that his forecasting algorithm does not simply calculate the future extrapolatively, but changes it recursively until the data of the past and the data of the future form their own special pattern, which Rick calls the Eigen-Pattern of the data series. He has established that the predictions have an enormous level of confidence when an Eigen-Pattern is present.

 

His know-how has given him a comfortable lifestyle, but has also served him well in his private life. For example, Rick has programmed a predictive model to determine the hormonal surges of his lovely neighbor Samantha, whom he calls Sam for short. The conditioning of the parameters is based on basic data such as her blood type, BMI, age, height, and a few non-serious gimmicks such as moon phase, air pressure and the earth's magnetic field. Its algorithm converts this raw data into an event probability. At a value of 75%, his program reports DefCon2.

Rick took the name DefCon from the US Pentagon, the abbreviation for Defense Condition. The US military uses five DefCon levels, counting down from 5 to 1. At DefCon1, the shreds fly. Quite fitting, thought Rick. In his sam_alert.exe program, this corresponds to a value of 90 %. His algorithm reports DefCon1 today, i.e. red alert. The DefCon1 message opens a pop-up window on his smartphone. So be careful. Don't take the noisy elevator. Barefoot on tiptoe, he sneaks four floors into the underground garage. Better safe than sorry and his time is not so limited today that he can afford any major delays. Appointments with the notary are important. He has known since childhood from his mother that there is nothing more important. So he arrives fifteen minutes before the agreed time to go through all the questions with the receptionist, which he has already answered in writing by email.

As a local expert in Munich, Rick was instructed by his brothers to choose a notary for the estate settlement. His choice fell on the notary's office of Dr. Rautgundis von Adelboden on Marienplatz. The notary notarized the purchase contract for his wigwam five years ago. At the time, she went to great lengths to protect the economically unconcerned Rick from the insatiable greed of the real estate sharks. He was very pleased that a respectable, middle-aged lady with a doctorate put her protective hand over him. Out of gratitude, Rick invited her to the wigwam inauguration party. She arrived a little late, was very reserved and looked quite out of place, even in terms of clothing. You could tell that she had come out of pure politeness and not out of a desire to party. The thumping techno sound was not her preferred style of music, nor was the volume. The party had to be heard from afar. Hopefully no annoyed neighbor would call the public order office. Many such thoughts crossed the notary's mind. Hopefully it would all go well and she would get out of this tohuwabohu unscathed.

After an hour of agonizing, meaningless slurred conversations with various good-humoured party guests, she took an interest in a group of five men sitting on the floor a little way off, passing a chillum around. She didn't know what a chillum was, nor did she know the sweet smell. Filling gaps in our knowledge is one of the most striking characteristics of Homo sapiens. And so it was that at an advanced hour, the notary took off some of her unflattering clothes and fervently performed the Comanche rain dance, cheered on by the primeval rhythmic sounds of the seating group.

Around 16:00 in the morning, Rick drove the moody notary home without making a fuss. As he couldn't drive himself, he called his cab driver friend Muja. They put the doctor in the back seat, where she sang along to Phil Collins You can't hurry love, somewhat strange and slightly dissonant.

"Where are we going with the hot oven today?"

"Shh!" Rick commanded with his finger in front of his mouth.

"I found an ID card with an address in her handbag: Grünwald. I also found a key to the front door. Drive off now and don't talk so much and, above all, forget about it afterwards. She's a high-ranking public figure."

"Yeah, it's okay, Rick, don't worry."

When they arrived at their destination, a cozy bungalow, the notary had fallen asleep in the back seat like a coma. Rick and Muja had to pull her out of the cab two by two and carry her to the front door. It was more strenuous than either of them had initially imagined.

"It always looks so easy in the movies. Just put it up, around your shoulder and off you go."

"But this isn't Hollywood, Muja, it's Grünwald ... and now go ahead."

 

They dragged the notary to the front door, which was about fifty meters from the garden gate of the semi-detached house, quietly so as not to wake the neighbors. And the neighbors were a...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 30.10.2024
• Verlagsort: Neckenmarkt
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Schlagworte: Belletristik • Frank Oberon • Krimi • Spannung
• ISBN-10: 1-64268-406-6 / 1642684066
• ISBN-13: 978-1-64268-406-3 / 9781642684063