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Reset Your Password

Vanity kills. But slowly.

By Lana V LynxPublished about a year ago Updated about a year ago 17 min read
4

Reset your password.

Alix was staring at the computer screen, puzzled. She knew she’d have to change her password soon, but she’d thought she still had a week or so. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone on this trip. She was staying at a luxury hotel on the Bahamas, at her agency’s retreat, and away from the hidden safe in her work desk where she kept all her passwords.

She had them neatly organized on small cards, in two columns: In one column, all passwords ended with “y” and in the other – with “o.” She was supposed to alternate them, not to trigger suspicions from people around her. All passwords were supposed to be 18 symbols long, and never repeat themselves in any symbol combinations. They had to be unique, except for the “y” and “o” designations. Every time she used a new password, she’d add it to the column on the card, to have a record. There was no way she could remember any one of them.

Staring at the screen, Alix tried to concentrate. She needed to get access to her files right now. An important client sent her a confidential email that she needed to respond to immediately. She could only access it from her MacBook Air that had a state-of-the-art security program to ensure her client data confidentiality. The client already texted her several times about the email. When she tried to unlock her computer with the last stored password, she got the message that the password was wrong. She was sure it was a mistake as she believed she still had time before the next password change. Foolishly, she tried two more times and now this message popped up: “Reset your password.”

Alix felt her palms sweat. She needed to get into her email, but she also needed her password cards, to come up with a new combination. If she made a mistake even by one symbol, she’d be in trouble. She was currently on the “y,” so she needed her next password to end with the “o.” When she did that in the past, she always took several days off work, to lock herself away from the people and to come back renewed and “tuned up.” When she eventually emerged from such a lockdown, her clients and partners asked for the numbers of her fitness trainer and her plastic surgeon. Fools! She’d never go for any surgery on her face, it was too beautiful and perfect without any knives or procedures. She did enjoy her weekly spa treatments with herbal clay masks and facial massages but that was as far as she was willing to go in meddling with her natural beauty. All she asked for that one time was to preserve and enhance it, just a little.

Alix smiled when she remembered the envious looks she’d often catch from the people around her. At 55, she was at the prime of her successful career as a publicity agent to movie stars. No one knew her real age, though, as she was in that phase of the timeless female beauty when she could easily be anywhere between 25-45. She was proud of it. She had to look beautiful and flawless, given the business she was in. Most of it was natural: She had a well-shaped and proportional body that she maintained through a stringent exercise and diet routine. Her straight delicate nose, voluptuous lips and big eyes were framed by distinct thick eyebrows, dark curly hair, and a delicate chin. Her most striking feature, though, was the color of her eyes: They were unbelievably green. Someone told her years ago that the Irish emerald of her eyes had the power of completely drawing in anyone who dared to look into them. She knew that power and used it well in her work, as building trust and projecting sincerity through her magnetic eyes was easy for her. That color, however, was not natural: She used to have hazel eyes and when she had that once-in-a-life-time opportunity, she asked for the green enhancement. Never regretted it.

Alix sighed, still staring at the screen with the unrelenting “Reset your password” message. How was she supposed to come up with a unique combination of 17 symbols on the fly without her password cards? There were like trillions of them. She knew the rules: The new password had to have six lower-case letters, one of which was either “y” or “o,” six capital letters, and six symbols. 666. As if she needed that constant reminder. She came up with a good system, she thought, to variate letters and symbols in a seemingly random order, but it was all on those damn cards in her safe and her brain refused to remember either the logic or the sequence she designed.

She finally tried a combination that popped up in her mind. “Your new password contains one combination used in a previous password. One year added. Please try again.”

“Alright,” Alix though. “One year is not a big deal. I can handle it. Let’s try another password.”

She keyed in another random sequence of 18 characters, ending with “o.” The computer screen went black for a second, as if thinking, and then flashed another message: “Your new password contains five combinations used in a previous password. Five years added. This is your second attempt to reset the password. After the third failed attempt, your account will be locked.”

“Five years!” Alix thought, panicking. “Six total, that will be noticeable!”

She was afraid to come up to a mirror. Her hands were now trembling, as she was trying to write down another password combination. She got up and started pacing the room, thinking.

Suddenly, an idea came to her: What if she calls someone in the office and asks to retrieve the last password card from her safe, take a snapshot of it and text it to her? Alix dreaded the idea that she’d have to share her safe password with someone else, and possibly answer the questions about the password card and security. But she finally decided to try.

The phone in her office rang for a long time. It was 10 pm there, and the only people who could pick up were the security officers. Everyone else, even her trusted cleaning lady, was here at the retreat with her. Alix was generous and appreciative of everyone who worked for her.

On what seemed to be like a hundredth ring, she heard a sleepy male voice, “Alix Cooper’s Angle.” She always loved the way her agency’s name sounded: forceful and straightforward. She did work the best angle for her clients. Besides, a lot of times people confused the name for “Alix Cooper’s Angel.” Excellent conversation starter, “No, I don’t really have a personal angel, but I have a lot of hard-working people in my agency that will be your best guardian angels.”

“Who is this?” Alix demanded, surprised by a croaking, hoarse voice coming out of her mouth.

“And who is this?” the voice asked in return. Alix thought she recognized Caleb, one of her security officers.

“Alix Cooper, your boss,” she softened her tone. “Is this Caleb?”

“Lady, you must be joking. I know my boss’ voice. It sounds nothing like yours,” Caleb responded and hung up.

Alix tried calling again. “Alix Cooper’s Angle,” the same voice answered.

“Caleb, it’s really me, I just caught a little cold,” she said, using her usual intonations and coughing for evidence.

“Ms. Cooper?” Caleb asked, still doubtful.

“Yes, calling from the retreat hotel. You can call me back in my room if you want, to verify it’s me.”

“It’s alright,” Caleb said, recognizing Alix’ tone. “What can I do for you, Ms. Cooper?”

“I need you to get something for me from my desk, urgently,” Alix said, hurriedly.

“OK,” Caleb said, hesitantly. “It’ll take me some time to get up there, though.”

“It’s OK, I can wait. But it really is urgent.”

“Heading to the elevator,” Caleb said.

“I’ll call you on my office number in five minutes,” Alix said and hang up.

Five minutes later, Alix called her office on the top floor. Caleb picked up.

“All right, Caleb, here’s what you need to do,” Alix said, mustering her usual command tone and clear instructions. “Get into the third drawer of my desk and open the safe there. You’ll need to take a picture of something stored there and text it to me. I’ll give you a key combination.”

“Whoa, there’s a safe in there?” Caleb said, opening the drawer.

“Yes, here’s the combination,” Alix was about to dictate him the numbers when Caleb interrupted, “I’m afraid I can’t open it on your voice command only. Especially when your voice is clearly off, Ms. Cooper.”

“C’mon, Caleb, who else can it be?”

“I don’t know. What if it’s someone pretending to be you? I’ll be in big trouble, you understand: breach of security, broken safe, all of that?”

“What do you suggest? I told you that you could call me back at the hotel.”

“Mam, if someone is pretending to be Alix Cooper to get to something important from her safe, do you think they will not be able to get access to her hotel room phone?”

“Good point, I’m glad you are taking security so seriously, Caleb,” Alix said, trying not to sound impatient. “But I really, really need you to get to that safe…”

“How about you do the video call, like on Facetime? So that I can see it’s really you?”

“Sure, let me get to my computer,” Alix said, sitting down in front of her Mac, having completely forgotten that she couldn’t get into the damn thing in the first place. The reminder stared at her with the “Reset your password” message.

“Oh, wait, I’ll have to do it from my phone,” Alix said.

Before she got to the Facetime app, Alix caught a glimpse of her reflection on the dark computer screen. She nearly dropped her phone on the floor, caught it mid-air and said to Caleb still waiting on the line, “You know what, Caleb, forget about it. It can wait until I come back.”

“Are you sure, Ms. Cooper? I already got here anyway…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Just go back to your security monitors, Caleb, and thanks for trying anyway…”

Alix hung up and let out a deep horrified sigh, covering her mouth not to scream. Then she got up and ran to the vanity mirror in her suite’s bedroom. Even though in her mind she was running, her feet were shuffling as if they had difficulty walking.

“Six years! This cannot be right! Fifty-five plus six is 61, this cannot be 61!” Alix stared at the woman in the mirror who looked like she was at least 75, with completely gray thinning hair and deep wrinkles all over her face and neck. She was still recognizable but anyone who knew Alix would have probably thought the woman in the mirror was her grandmother.

She imagined Caleb’s reaction if he saw her right now. She was so close to exposing herself!

“Alright, take a deep breath, let’s try this again,” Alix said to herself, trying to calm down. She returned to the computer and jotted down a password on the hotel notebook she thought she'd never used before. Oh, well, in the worst-case scenario she’ll have to deal with the network admin, but she did need to get access to her client’s file and her younger face.

She keyed in the password. Her Mac thought for a second again, and then produced the message, “Your new password combination is not unique. Years added. Your account has been locked. Please contact your network administrator for assistance.”

Alex sighed. She pulled the app on her iPhone that simply said “Admin” and pushed it.

“Help is on the way!” the app communicated cheerfully and closed automatically.

Alix started to pace the room again, dreading the conversation with the network admin. She had to do it a couple of times before on the phone, and it was a grueling investigation: “Do you understand the terms of service of your original agreement, mam?” “How come you keyed in ‘y’ instead of ‘o’ when the instructions clearly said to alternate?” “There are over 30 trillion possible combinations to create your unique password, what do you mean you couldn’t make up one?” “Do you keep all your password combinations saved safely?” “What do you mean, ‘you pushed a wrong key’?” and so on and so forth. Alix’s entire body shook at the unpleasant memory. She was brought back to reality by a knock on the door.

“Who is there?” she shouted, moving toward the door. She noticed that her voice has become even weaker and older.

“Room service!” a young cheerful voice responded.

“I didn’t order anything,” she said and started to move away from the door.

“Open up, Ms.Cooper, it’s the admin,” the voice said quieter but in a more commanding tone.

“I was expecting a phone call,” she objected through the door.

“This is your third request, Ms.Cooper, must be handled in person,” the voice said. “Open up, please, I don’t want to attract other guests’ attention.”

Alix slowly opened the door.

“Woah, THAT’s what you’d look when you are like 85?” a dashing man in his early 30s wearing an impeccable blue striped 3-piece suit and expensive shoes said, entering her suite.

“Eighty-five?” Alex exclaimed, touching her deeply wrinkled face. “Where does that come from?”

“Years added, account locked,” the man quoted her computer. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

“Not since about ten minutes ago,” Alix made a sad joke. “Is it really that bad, 85?”

“Yeah, remember your TOS specified that every time your password is wrong and/or your account is locked, not only new years are added, but also all those years you have avoided by staying young against the natural process of ageing will set back,” the man said.

“I thought that’s what the ‘o’ passwords were for, to make the face old between the ‘young’ passwords,” Alix protested.

“Again, someone didn’t read the TOS closely. The ‘o’ passwords are temporary, Ms.Cooper, just like a reset button on the computer, but once the system reboots and settles to the new mode those old years are stored safely, they never go away. They are being added back right now as we speak.”

“Added on top of the punishment years? But that’s not fair,” Alix protested. “I don’t understand why…”

“Sometimes even I don’t fully understand how it all works,” the man said.

“Aren’t you the system admin?” Alix said, now doubting he was the right person to talk to.

“More than that, one of the four architects. We only make house calls in these serious situations, triggered by two earlier calls and a lockout,” the man said authoritatively and added cheerfully, “But let’s not waste time, you don’t have much of it left, judging by your face. What can I do for you, Ms.Cooper?”

“This,” she said, making a circle with her index finger around her face. “Could you please reverse this?”

“Sure,” he said, sitting himself down at her computer. “I just need your password cards.”

“Young man, if I had my password cards, you think I wouldn’t have changed the password myself, without calling you?”

“You obviously haven’t and called. Where are the cards, Ms.Cooper?”

“In my office, safely stored.”

“So why are you here and not there, where your cards are?”

“Because I thought I still had time before the next change of password. It was supposed to be another week or so…”

“You thought… Did you check your TOS?”

“TOS, TOS again! Do you know anything else except TOS?”

“Terms of Service are essential for any business, Ms.Cooper. You of all people should know…”

“Yes, I know. Anyway, I’m here and the cards are there. Can’t you enter the system from the other end?”

“Which end?” the man asked, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“I don’t know… Hell?” Alix was desperate. She started to have trouble breathing and sat on the sofa across from the man.

“Oh, you mean from inside? I don’t have clearance for that.”

“Didn’t you just say you were one of the four architects?” Alix asked, feeling exasperated.

“Yep, I’m responsible for password reset and network safety; she…” the man made a full turn in the swivel chair and faced Alix as a woman in her 20s, dressed as a typical computer nerd, saying in a high voice “network programming, and he…” another turn around produced a man in his 40s with a deep voice “network infrastructure, and she…” a woman was facing Alix after the third turn, “customer service, but I only answer phone calls.” Alix vaguely remembered her pleasant pretend-caring voice from the first two interactions with the network admin. She suddenly had a scary sinking feeling in her stomach. Are they all playing some cruel game with her or is she going crazy?

The man returned to his first form and said, “As you probably understand, none of us has full access to the system. Only to the parts we are responsible for.”

“But… but you are one person!” Alix gasped.

“Didn’t you just see four different people?” the man asked.

“But it was all you, just taking a different form!”

“Who? Me?” the man said and turned three times again, asking “Who? Me?” in every form.

“Stop it!” Alix’ head was spinning. “Don’t play these games with me!”

“No games, Ms.Cooper. I’m just showing you that I am indeed not just one person. We are four, but severed from each other, so that we cannot step into each other’s areas of responsibility. Checks and balances, you know.”

“Well, then I need to see your manager!” Alix demanded.

“Whoa, Karen, hold your horses,” the man smiled sarcastically, “You do NOT really want to see my manager!”

“Don’t karen me!” Alix was indignant. “And yes, I do want to see your mana…”

She collapsed on the sofa mid-sentence.

“As you wish,” the man said, getting up. “I’m pretty sure you hoped to delay that meeting, though. Shouldn’t have wasted your time bickering with me as your life clock was ticking.” Leaving the room, he took out a bunch of Alix’ password cards from his pant pockets and threw them around. The last card with only several lines filled out read, “Vanity kills. But slowly. Want to know how? Call us at…”

***

Next morning, Alix Cooper did not show up at her own retreat. Her personal assistant Chloe convinced the hotel management to open the door to her suite. They found a shriveled old woman in Alix Cooper’s expensive business dress, at least five sizes too big for her, lying dead on the sofa. Her pale hazel eyes were wide open, apparently in a surprise of a heart attack. It did not look like a forced entry or burglary, as the only suspicious thing was a bunch of what looked like password string cards thrown around all over the room. No one noticed that Chloe picked up the card with the “Vanity kills” message.

The investigation into the old woman’s death did not produce any results. She did look like an old version of Alix Cooper, so the detectives focused on Alix’ older relatives who might have disappeared but found nothing. Alix Cooper herself never showed up at her agency or home again. About a week after the retreat, Chloe announced to the agency staff that she had received an email from Alix saying she decided to retire and move to a private island. She also left the agency to Chloe with the only request to keep her name for legacy. The agency was promptly renamed into Alix & Chloe’s Angle. Chloe took several days off and emerged as a new and tuned up version of herself. With unbelievably blue eyes.

FableMystery
4

About the Creator

Lana V Lynx

Avid reader and occasional writer of satire and short fiction. For my own sanity and security, I write under a pen name. My books: Moscow Calling - 2017 and President & Psychiatrist

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Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

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  • Jay Kantor8 months ago

    Dear Lana; aka Professor Lynx. I learn something with every topic you choose. You certainly must be a marvelously dedicated teacher. - My Respect - J-Bud

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