Félicie Algo lives in Paris, in the concierge lodge of a building on rue Lantiez. She grew up in Brittany, in a farming family for whom the house, fields and farm buildings formed a single territory. A good student, she nevertheless had to regularly leave school in order to participate in farm work. She has retained from this childhood powerful hands, great endurance and an almost unhealthy aversion to disorder.
After her arrival in Paris, Félicie enters the service of the Albert family. Carole Albert, a renowned lawyer, brings her a form of social stability and later helps her obtain the position of caretaker on rue Lantiez. From her lodge, Félicie observes the inhabitants, their visitors and their habits with the vigilance of a sentry charged with defending a fortress.
In her spare time, she develops an online clairvoyance activity. She draws cards, interprets coincidences and constructs a symbolic network of dizzying complexity. Félicie believes she has mastered this system of interpretation, but she gradually ends up becoming a prisoner of it. Each breakdown, each encounter and each unforeseen event soon seems to herald a threat.
Her cat JavaScript sometimes helps her when she has to solve complex problems. On the other hand, JavaScript remains powerless when Félicie is contaminated by the Fenêtres virus.
Félicie has a Neurotech chip implanted in her brain. She uses it first as a practical extension of her memory, then as a tool for analysis. The chip records, classifies, reconciles. Félicie willingly does the same thing with human beings.
It was long before she came to Saint-Martin. Isaac's motorbike had broken down near her home. As Isaac pushed his machine to the side of the road, Félicie offered to come to the farm to repair it. The repair took longer than expected.
For Isaac, this meeting was a simple combination of circumstances. For Félicie, the combination of circumstances constitutes above all a lazy way of designating phenomena whose organization we have not yet understood. However, Isaac had appealed to her immediately. He had a mobility that seemed extraordinary to her. He could change locations and he seemed capable of leaving a situation simply because it no longer suited him. Félicie has always been careful.
Their relationship was established without any real decision. Isaac brought motorcycles, impromptu departures and a certain indifference to consequences into Félicie's life. Félicie brought stability.
Later, they live together on rue Lantiez. The concierge apartment is small for two people, even smaller when JavaScript decides that a significant portion of the space belongs to it.
Félicie loves this life. She likes to wait for the sound of Isaac's motorcycle in the street. She recognizes his engine before it stops in front of the building. She knows his schedules, his habits, the days when he comes home tired and those when he prefers not to explain where he was.
Over the years, Félicie accumulates a considerable amount of information on Isaac. She knows what clothes he chooses when he wants to seduce, how he lies when he improvises and how he lies when he has prepared his story. She notices the extra miles on the bike, the schedule changes and the silences. She doesn't call it jealousy. She calls it observation.
In Saint-Martin, something is changing. Isaac meets other people, goes to other places and disappears more easily. Among these new relationships appears Alice Gillet.
Félicie notices his name even before Isaac tells her about it. A notification. A deleted message. A change in a usual journey. Taken separately, these elements mean nothing. Félicie never examines them separately. She begins to build connections. Isaac returns later when Alice is in Saint-Martin. He checks his phone more. He answers questions less precisely.
Félicie: Are you sleeping with Alice?
Isaac: No.
Félicie: You answered too quickly.
Isaac: How many seconds did you want me to wait?
Félicie's love does not diminish when her confidence disappears. It changes shape. Félicie searches more, compares more, interprets more. The more Isaac escapes her, the more she produces hypotheses intended to explain why. Her Neurotech chip helps her memorize data. It does not help her know which ones are worth forgetting. Little by little, Félicie ceases to clearly distinguish what she knows, what she supposes and what she fears. A message becomes a clue. An absence becomes proof. A coincidence becomes an intention.
Isaac criticizes her for seeing conspiracies everywhere. Félicie replies that conspiracies exist precisely because most people refuse to see them. Yet they continue to find each other.
For Félicie, love does not disappear easily. It accumulates with the rest: memories, suspicions, wounds, data and signs. Isaac had come into her life because of a broken down motorcycle. Years later, Félicie is still trying to determine if it was really a coincidence.
When Félicie no longer responds, it's JavaScript that ends up attracting attention. The cat walks around the box, scratches against the door then utters unusual meows in the hallway. For him, insistence already constitutes a form of alert.
We find Félicie collapsed near her Compacteur. She is still sitting sideways in her chair, her head tilted towards her shoulder. The screen in front of her is saturated with windows that open on top of each other with absurd regularity.
The screens still broadcast parasitic windows which open and close in a sickly flash. A smell of heated plastic wafts through the room. For several weeks, Félicie had been asserting that occult forces and computer systems had begun to merge. She spoke of negative waves, spiritual contaminations and viruses capable of circulating between machines and human brains.
The Compacteur fans run at full speed. In the silence of the dressing room, their breathing almost gives the impression that a large machine is breathing in Félicie's place. JavaScript remains a few meters away. He looks alternately at the body and the screen, as if waiting for one of the two to start working again.
Around the Neurotech implant, Félicie's skin shows unusual redness. A slight inflammation extends behind the ear. Nothing yet allows us to know whether it is the cause of her condition or only its consequence.
Jules requests that the Compacteur be left exactly as it was discovered. This precaution does not please anyone. The windows continue to multiply, several processes are restarted automatically and the device occasionally emits sound signals that sound less like alerts and more like protests.
Félicie is transported to be examined. Professor Bertheloult immediately became interested in the Neurotech chip. According to him, certain symptoms could correspond to computer contamination directly affecting the neural interface. Jules asks him if a computer virus can render a human being unconscious. Bertheloult responds with a long explanation.
The problem is determining how the virus got in. Félicie uses her Compacteur daily. She carries a chip connected to several devices. She exchanges data with networks to which Jules would personally prefer never to entrust his brain.
There are many possible entry points. Shortly before her illness, Félicie met Ariana Chrono. The two women touched each other. A perfectly ordinary gesture for two human beings. Much less banal when one has a Neurotech chip and the other has an integrated computer system capable of exchanging data at very short distances.
Jules looks again at the Compacteur saturated with windows, then at the redness around the implant. He begins to suspect that Félicie's remains may not be the result of a physical attack. Someone, or something, may have simply gotten into his system.
The Jules central unit is programmed to trigger every day at the same time. Regular, reliable, almost reassuring mechanics. However, this morning, something resists starting. His brain is shrouded in an unusual fog. He experiences slowness, electrical fatigue and loss of synchronization. He tries to restart the keybfr, but the maneuver remains ineffective. He ends up going to Professor Bertheloult.
Bertheloult: It’s the Fenêtres virus.
Jules remains silent for a few seconds. The professor manipulates several screens saturated with lines of code and neural diagrams. His office looks less like a place of consultation and more like a clandestine workshop where brains are repaired like hard drives.
Bertheloult: However, there were warning signs: network pain, loss of synchronization, startup errors...
Jules then understands that contamination now goes beyond simple machines. Originally designed by ChronoEmpire, the Fenêtres virus has mutated for years as it circulates through Compacteurs, Neurotech implants and connected systems. Now malware doesn’t just infect devices. It learns, adapts and crosses neural interfaces.
Bertheloult plugs a USB key into her terminal before handing it to Jules, like a doctor in the past would have handed a bottle of antibiotics to his patient.
Bertheloult: This is a temporary remedy. You will launch the update tomorrow when you wake up, while the system is resting.
He lowers his voice.
Bertheloult: Officially, ChronoEmpire is already preparing a new version. A much more invasive beta version. If it spreads to Saint-Martin or Paris, we will soon have something other than an IT pandemic.
Jules then asks the professor to examine Félicie. The diagnosis quickly becomes obvious: his neural chip is infected and certain areas of his brain show alterations comparable to those caused by the Fenêtres virus.
Jules begins by eliminating what looks too much like an ordinary attack. No shots. No injuries. No signs of struggle. Félicie simply collapsed in front of her Compacteur while her digital environment began to proliferate like diseased vegetation.
Professor Bertheloult confirms that the Neurotech chip presents anomalies. The system received data that it should not have accepted. A foreign sequence has spread across multiple functions and is now causing chain reactions.
It’s a virus and three routes of contamination catch Jules’ attention.
Félicie met Ariana shortly before her illness. The two women approached, observed and finally touched. To any witness, the gesture seems banal. For Bertheloult, it is much less so. Ariana has several short-range communication interfaces. Félicie wears a Neurotech chip also capable of exchanging data with her environment.
Jules: So they can talk to each other without speaking?
Bertheloult: In a certain way.
Jules: And pass something on to each other?
Bertheloult: Theoretically.
Félicie's technical logs do indeed show unusual activity shortly after meeting Ariana. A sequence appears, duplicates, disappears then reappears in another form.
For Jules, it looks a lot like a signature, but the intention is missing. Could Ariana have deliberately contaminated Félicie? Why her? And above all, what state was Ariana in at the time of the exchange? Since her disconnection, it has become difficult to distinguish what she was really deciding from what her programs were automatically triggering.
The Betty track is more human. Félicie and Betty have a difficult relationship. Between them, friendship, jealousy, resentment and personal beliefs mix easily. Betty knows that Félicie uses her Neurotech chip intensively and knows of her obsession with signs, protections and objects loaded with meaning.
A bracelet attracts Jules’ attention. Félicie wears it regularly. She considers it a protective object. Betty was able to handle it before the discomfort.
Bertheloult examines the object. It contains a tiny electronic component, simple enough to go unnoticed and close enough to the chip when worn to cause data exchange. Betty therefore has a possible vector.
Betty also has a mobile. Félicie has already given him a pill supposed to help him fight his fatigue. After taking it, Betty ended up in the hospital. She suspects Félicie of having poisoned her.
Revenge seems possible, but here again, Jules hesitates. Betty is capable of an impulsive gesture. Manufacturing or modifying a device capable of infecting a Neurotech chip requires more technical preparation. Unless she received help.
Rest Jacques. This track leads directly to the Compacteur. Jacques sold the device to Félicie. At the time of the transaction, the Compacteur was already old, modified several times and full of programs whose origin no one knows exactly. Félicie then adapted it to her own needs. She added tools, scripts, connections with her Neurotech chip and a whole series of functions that she considers essential.
Jules asks a technician to examine the oldest files. Several suspicious programs predate the arrival of the Compacteur at Félicie.
A code fragment partially corresponds to what Bertheloult observes in the chip. Jules returns to see Jacques.
Jules: Was the Compacteur contaminated when you sold it?
Jacques: Contaminated by what?
Jules: That’s precisely the question.
Jacques: It worked very well.
Jules: Did you use it?
Jacques: Sometimes.
Jules: For what?
Jacques: Stuff.
Jules notes that “stuff” is generally a particularly dangerous category of computing. Jacques claims to have never intentionally installed a virus. However, he admits to having retrieved several programs from unsavory networks and never having much appreciated security updates. For Jules, the track becomes credible.
The Compacteur could have carried the virus a long time ago. The connection with the Neurotech chip would then have allowed its propagation. The virus may have circulated via several paths before reaching Félicie. Jules considers Ariana to be a formidable threat. It therefore remains to identify the moment when the contamination really becomes active.
I went into the Red Piano to escape the rain. The air there was thick, saturated with alcohol, perfume and music. The red neon lights gave faces the color of raw meat. Tourists were laughing too loudly around the tables while an old jazz standard was dying through the speakers.
I don't like this kind of place. Bars always attract the same creatures: loners, predators, people looking to forget something. However, that evening, as soon as I entered, I felt an unusual presence. She was sitting at the counter.
A beautiful young woman, almost too perfect to be real. Her skin seemed to smooth the light around her. Even the way he moved had something exaggeratedly precise, as if each of his gestures had been rehearsed in advance.
I was immediately suspicious. Fake sapiens are becoming increasingly difficult to spot. They learn our expressions, our hesitations, our looks. But there are still small flaws. Too perfect synchronization. Abnormal immobility between two movements. A way to smile without real fatigue in the eyes.
She seems drunk. Perched on her stool, she sways slightly while the bartender pours her another drink.
Ariana: Drink!
The bartender smiles with the habit of men fascinated by what they do not understand.
The bartender: The same thing?
She nods slowly.
I observe him discreetly behind my dark glasses. The more I look at it, the more my uneasiness grows. Something about her disrupts my usual perceptions, like a stray frequency.
She turns her head towards me. His eyes are fixed on mine with a strange, almost mechanical intensity. I feel a cold pass through me.
Me: Are you going to be okay?
His response takes a second too long to come.
Ariana: Are you okay… What’s your name?
His voice is soft but slightly out of tune, like an imperfect imitation of human warmth. I should leave immediately. Instead, I get closer.
Me: Félicie. My name is Félicie Algo.
And I take his hand. The very moment our skin touches, I feel something circulating. Not an emotion. No electricity. Something else. An icy current that slowly runs up my arm, as if a foreign presence had just entered me.
I want to withdraw my hand, but my fingers hesitate. Around us, the Red Piano continues to vibrate stupidly under the red neon lights. The customers laugh, they drink and they dance.
No one sees what is happening, but I feel it. Something has opened. Something crossed a boundary and now that thing is inside me.
Jules returns to Ariana Chrono. Among the three tracks examined, it is the most difficult to interpret. Ariana has no known motive. She does not hate Félicie, does not seek to harm her and does not even seem to understand the consequences of the contact that occurred between them. However, several elements indicate that it may have played a decisive role in the contamination.
The first element comes from the Compacteur found near the body. The device formerly belonged to Jacques Valère. When he sells it to Félicie, several files are already infected with an old variant of the Fenêtres virus. Jacques acknowledges the existence of suspicious programs, but claims to have warned the buyer.
This ancient contamination, however, is not enough to explain the death. For several weeks, Félicie used the Compacteur without showing any symptoms other than a slowdown of the device and the occasional appearance of parasitic windows. The virus remains present, but relatively inactive.
Something changes after meeting Ariana.
Jules reconstructs their time at the Red Piano. Surveillance footage shows Félicie entering the establishment alone. Ariana is already at the counter. She appears disoriented and exhibits several behavioral abnormalities. She orders drinks that she can't really metabolize, repeats certain phrases and questions the people around her with unusual insistence.
For several minutes, the two women remain at a distance. Then Félicie approaches and takes Ariana’s hand.
The contact lasts only a few seconds.
At the same time, Félicie's Neurotech chip records abnormal activity. A connection opens without requesting authorization, exchanges several data packets, then disappears before the protection system can identify its origin. Félicie does not immediately consult the report. She only claims to have felt a cold current running up her arm.
Jules questions Bertheloult.
Jules: Can Ariana transmit data by simple contact?
Bertheloult: It constantly exchanges information with its environment.
Jules: That’s not what I’m asking you.
Bertheloult: His hands contain several sensors. Pressure, temperature, conductivity, biological recognition. A proximity connection is technically possible.
Jules: Possible or planned?
Bertheloult hesitates.
Bertheloult: Intended, but not to transmit malware.
Jules then obtains a partial copy of Ariana's internal logs. ChronoEmpire first claims that the data was erased during an update. However, some fragments remain in an automatic backup. At the exact time Ariana takes Félicie's hand, her system detects a Neurotech interface and attempts to establish synchronization.
The operation should only transmit basic information: identity, medical parameters and connection permissions. But Ariana herself has been in contaminated environments. At the Red Piano then on the Vénus, she came into contact with several experimental devices and insufficiently protected networks. A variant of the Fenêtres virus was able to install itself in a secondary area of its memory without immediately disrupting its operation.
The encounter then produces an almost invisible chain. Félicie's Compacteur contains the old strain of the virus. Ariana carries a newer variant. When it links to the Neurotech chip, the two versions come into contact. They exchange elements, recombine and form a program capable of breaking through the protections of the implant.
After this meeting, incidents multiplied. Félicie complains of windows appearing even in her field of vision. Its chip executes commands that it has not formulated. The Compacteur restarts on its own and continually attempts to connect to neighboring systems. A few hours before his death, the volume of exchanges became considerable.
Jules is still trying to determine if Ariana is acting voluntarily.
There is nothing to confirm this. She probably does not choose to infect Félicie. She opens a connection as her programs instruct her to do, without knowing that she is carrying an infectious element. But its lack of intention does not eliminate its role. Without contact with Ariana, the virus might have remained inactive in the Compacteur. Without the ancient contamination brought by Jacques, Ariana would perhaps have transmitted only a fragment incapable of acting alone.
Jules finally understands that Félicie's death was not the result of a single action. Jacques provides the contaminated land. Félicie herself connects her brain to a dangerous machine. Ariana brings the element that triggers the mutation.
Ariana may not have wanted to kill Félicie.
She is, however, the last person to have opened the door through which the virus entered.
The Marigot market is teeming with tourists. The heat sticks to bodies and the merchants wave their souvenirs made on the other side of the world: garish caps, t-shirts, bracelets, useless magnets. All this forms an immense soft fair where the sapiens circulate without ever really looking at each other.
That’s where I see him. Among all these blank faces, she immediately catches my attention. I recognize this kind of presence. A follower of voodoo. Maybe even more. Some people carry around them a troubled vibration, a way of being in the world which already announces contamination.
I look at her without her noticing. She sells scarves under a tarpaulin that flaps in the wind. She smiles attentively at the tourists, but her smile floats slightly beside her face, as if it belongs to someone else.
I know the signs. The evil eye exists. The undead also exist. They move among us with their ordinary gestures, their banal conversations, their looks which absorb the energy of others. Normal people don't see anything. They live locked in their screens, hypnotized by advertising images and artificial bodies giggling in digital paradises. They don't understand that the world is infested.
But I see, and this woman is dangerous. I immediately feel that she could harm me with just one look. Luckily I'm wearing my panther ring. Black stone absorbs negative waves and repels certain influences. I clench my fist around it to prevent its energy from reaching me. My intuition tells me that it belongs to something larger. People like her always have a guru, a sect, an obscure mouth that tells them what to think.
She finally noticed me and smiled.
Betty: Hello miss! Look at the pretty scarf I have for you!
His voice is soft, almost singing. Too sweet. I approach slowly.
Me: I don't want a scarf. I just want to chat. Do you want it?
I immediately see his distrust. Yet she continues to smile. People who make a living from commerce learn to hide their flight reflexes.
Betty: I do. Where are you from?
Me: I live here, in Saint-Martin. And you?
Betty: I'm a traveler. I’m from Honduras…but I live here now.
She talks more than I expected. Fragile beings often need to share their fatigue with someone.
Betty: Besides, that doesn't really suit me. I always feel tired. As if the island was draining me of my energy.
There you go. The flaw finally appears. I almost physically feel the opening in her, this deep fatigue where the defenses become porous.
Me: Yes… it shows, you seem exhausted.
I slowly open my bag. Around us, the market continues to hum stupidly. Tourists laugh. Sellers call out to passers-by. A radio crackles somewhere under the sun-heated tarpaulins.
In a small metal box, I find the pill, small, white, perfectly ordinary.
Me: I have pills to combat fatigue. Do you want one?
I hold it between two fingers carefully. For a few seconds, she hesitates. I could almost hear his thoughts fighting against his exhaustion. Then she holds out her hand. She swallows the pill with a sip of lukewarm water.
So I smile.