At 7:03 a.m., Raka was already sitting in front of his computer.
He did not open SENTRA right away.
After leaving the coffee shop the night before, he had barely slept.
The last message he had received kept replaying in his mind.
Don't bring Nadira into this.
Then the next message.
He's tried before.
Raka stared at his phone screen.
The sender's number could no longer be reached.
Just like all the previous anonymous numbers.
They appeared.
Sent a message.
Then disappeared.
He put his phone in the drawer.
Then he opened his laptop.
A folder copied from Nadira's device the night before appeared on the screen.
PROTOCOL A-17.
Raka clicked it.
Access denied.
He tried opening it again through the local copy.
The result was the same.
RESTRICTED ACCESS.
Raka entered the code Bima had given him.
Denied.
He tried combinations of dates.
Denied.
Then the screen displayed a new warning.
THIS DOCUMENT REQUIRES MULTI-LEVEL AUTHORIZATION.
Raka read the sentence slowly.
Three blank lines appeared beneath it.
AUTHORIZATION 1
AUTHORIZATION 2
AUTHORIZATION 3
And one note: FULL ACCESS CAN ONLY BE OPENED BY THREE REGISTERED USERS.
Raka stared at the screen.
Three people.
Who?
At 8:26 a.m., Raka entered Bima's office.
This time, the door was open.
Bima sat in front of his computer.
He looked worse than he had the day before.
“Where have you been?”
Bima did not look up.
“Still alive.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“For now, it’s enough.”
Raka closed the door.
“A-17.”
Bima stopped typing.
“Where did you get that?”
“The folder you sent me.”
“I didn’t send you anything.”
Raka fell silent.
“Don’t joke around.”
“I’m serious.”
“You gave me the code.”
“I gave you a temporary access code.”
“And?”
“But not the A-17 folder.”
Raka felt something cold at the nape of his neck.
“Then someone else put it there.”
Bima turned toward him.
“On your laptop?”
“In the data copy.”
Bima stood.
“Don’t open it again.”
“I already did.”
Bima’s expression changed.
“What part?”
“The protocol.”
Bima closed his eyes for a moment.
“Did you see the category list?”
Raka nodded.
“Employee names?”
“Yes.”
“My father’s name.”
Bima stopped asking questions.
He walked to the door.
Locked it.
Then he returned to the desk.
“Listen.”
Raka looked at him.
“A-17 isn’t part of SENTRA’s official modules.”
“Then what is it?”
“An additional layer.”
“What for?”
Bima opened a diagram.
“Officially, SENTRA has only four main modules.”
He pointed at the screen.
“Employee data.”
“Evaluations.”
“Needs analysis.”
“Career recommendations.”
Raka nodded.
“And A-17?”
Bima enlarged a previously hidden section of the diagram.
A thin line appeared.
It was not recorded in the main structure.
Yet it was connected to every module.
A-17.
“This,” Bima said, “isn’t a module.”
“Then what is it?”
“A filter.”
Raka furrowed his brow.
“A filter for what?”
“A filter that determines which data is allowed into the recommendation process.”
“Based on what?”
Bima did not answer immediately.
He opened a list of parameters.
Loyalty.
Influence.
Compliance.
Information access.
Disruption potential.
Raka recognized all of them.
The same parameters he had seen with Nadira.
“So A-17 really exists.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“I knew it existed.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know who was using it.”
Raka moved closer.
“Do you know now?”
Bima looked at him.
“Not completely.”
“How many people can open it?”
Bima opened the security log.
Three accounts appeared.
But the usernames were hidden.
Only codes were visible.
USER-01
USER-02
USER-03
Raka read them.
“No names?”
“The data is encrypted.”
“Can it be opened?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Bima sighed.
“If I knew how, I would’ve done it already.”
At 10:17 a.m., Raka and Bima examined the access structure.
Each user had a different digital trail.
USER-01 frequently opened personnel data.
USER-02 accessed project data and organizational networks more often.
USER-03 almost never opened any data.
Yet every time USER-03 logged in, major changes followed.
Mass transfers.
Promotions.
Deactivations.
History deletions.
Raka pointed at the screen.
“The third one.”
Bima nodded.
“USER-03.”
“Who is it?”
“Don’t know yet.”
Raka opened the access-date list.
A new pattern emerged.
USER-01 was active almost every day.
USER-02 was active several times a week.
USER-03 was active only on certain dates.
Raka read through the dates.
Then stopped.
“Bima.”
“Yes?”
“Find out what happened on these dates.”
Bima opened the news archive.
The first date.
An official’s inauguration.
The second date.
A change in the organizational structure.
The third date.
A regional election.
The fourth date.
Designation of a strategic project.
Raka stared at the screen.
“Politics.”
Bima nodded.
“Yes.”
“USER-03 is active only when there’s a major political decision.”
“And every time that happens…”
Bima pointed at the screen.
“…hundreds of personnel records change.”
At 12:36 p.m., Raka received a message from Nadira.
Did you find something?
Raka replied.
Three users.
The response came quickly.
Names?
Not yet. Just USER-01, USER-02, and USER-03.
A few minutes later, Nadira sent him a photo.
An old photo.
Three people stood in front of a presentation screen.
Raka enlarged the image.
At the back was a line of text: ARCAPURA GOVERNMENT DIGITAL TRANSFORMATION PROGRAM.
He knew the first person.
Dimas Wicaksana.
The second was familiar too.
Arman Prasetyo.
But Raka had never seen the third man before.
A bespectacled man.
Around fifty years old.
Holding a tablet.
Beneath the photo, Nadira wrote: I found this photo in an old news archive. Find the third man.
Raka enlarged the man’s face.
Bima looked at the screen.
His expression changed immediately.
“You know him?”
Bima did not answer.
“Bima.”
The programmer drew a breath.
“His name is Adrian Sagara.”
“Who?”
“He used to be a systems consultant.”
“Used to?”
“He designed SENTRA’s initial structure.”
Raka stared at the photo.
“Where is he now?”
Bima shook his head.
“No one knows.”
Adrian Sagara’s name proved surprisingly difficult to find in the government system.
Raka opened the employee archives.
Nothing.
The consultant list.
Nothing.
The procurement records.
Some of the data was missing.
Yet one old document remained.
STRATEGIC TECHNOLOGY CONSULTANT — ADRIAN SAGARA.
Contract period: 2018–2021.
Status: COMPLETED.
Notes: FURTHER DATA UNAVAILABLE.
Raka stared at the sentence.
“Everyone who disappears from the system always has the same note.”
Bima turned toward him.
“Data unavailable.”
Raka nodded.
Bima opened another file.
“Sir.”
Raka moved closer.
“Look at this.”
A project-access list appeared.
First name: Dimas Wicaksana.
Second name: Arman Prasetyo.
Third name: Adrian Sagara.
Three names.
Three people.
Raka and Bima exchanged a look.
“Three users,” Raka said.
Bima nodded.
“USER-01.”
“Dimas?”
“Maybe.”
“USER-02?”
“Arman?”
“And USER-03?”
Bima did not answer.
Raka stared at Adrian’s photo.
“The person behind the algorithm.”
That afternoon, Raka met Nadira somewhere else.
Not the coffee shop from the night before.
This time, they met in a small library that was almost never crowded.
Nadira sat between shelves of local history books.
“Did you find the third man’s name?”
Raka nodded.
“Adrian Sagara.”
Nadira did not look surprised.
“You already knew?”
“I’d only found a few things.”
“Like what?”
Nadira handed him a folder.
“Adrian wasn’t just a consultant.”
Raka opened it.
Inside were several old articles.
About digitization projects.
About technology partnerships.
About the construction of a data center.
And a small article from eight years ago.
Its headline read: A New System for Objectively Managing Civil-Service Personnel.
The same photo appeared.
Dimas.
Arman.
Adrian.
Raka read it.
Nadira said quietly, “The interesting part isn’t the article.”
“What is?”
“Who funded the initial project.”
Raka opened the next page.
The name of a company appeared.
SAGARA DATA SOLUTIONS.
Director: ADRIAN SAGARA.
Raka looked up.
“His own company?”
“Yes.”
“So he designed the system through his own company?”
“Legally, the contract was valid.”
“Morally?”
Nadira gave him a faint smile.
“That’s why we need to see the complete documents.”
Raka opened the last page.
There was a note.
The initial development project for SENTRA underwent three budget revisions.
But the reasons for the revisions were never made public.
Beneath it was a note: STRATEGIC MODULES NOT INCLUDED IN PUBLIC INFORMATION.
Raka pointed to the words.
“Strategic modules.”
Nadira nodded.
“A-17.”
At 7:44 p.m., Raka returned to the office with Bima.
They did not want to open A-17 from the main network.
Bima prepared a separate device.
“If we manage to get in, what happens?” Raka asked.
Bima did not answer.
“Bima.”
“If the system is secure, we’ll be able to read the data.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Whoever’s monitoring it will know.”
Raka smiled bitterly.
“Seems like they already know.”
Bima entered several commands.
The screen changed.
Three authorization columns appeared.
USER-01
USER-02
USER-03
Then a question: ENTER USER IDENTITY.
Raka looked at Bima.
“Try a name.”
Bima entered: DIMAS WICAKSANA.
Denied.
Then: ARMAN PRASETYO.
Denied.
Finally: ADRIAN SAGARA.
The screen froze.
There was no rejection.
No notification.
Only a small circle spinning.
Raka held his breath.
Then the screen changed.
IDENTITY REGISTERED.
Bima went pale.
“It worked.”
Raka stared at the screen.
But access had not yet opened.
The system displayed a new message.
FIRST USER AUTHORIZATION DETECTED.
Beneath it: ADRIAN SAGARA — USER-03.
Raka and Bima exchanged a look.
The third person had been found.
But the other two names remained locked.
Bima tried opening USER-01’s details.
He couldn’t.
USER-02.
He couldn’t access that one either.
Then a warning appeared.
TWO OTHER USERS ARE REQUIRED TO OPEN PROTOCOL A-17.
Raka read the next sentence.
IF ONE OF THE USERS HAS BECOME INACTIVE, THE SYSTEM WILL DETERMINE A REPLACEMENT.
Bima stopped.
“What does that mean?”
Raka pointed at the screen.
“Read the bottom.”
Bima read it.
THE REPLACEMENT IS SELECTED BASED ON DATA CONNECTIONS, ACCESS HISTORY, AND STRUCTURAL RELATIONSHIPS.
Raka felt something cold.
“Bima.”
“Yes?”
“Find the list of candidate users.”
Bima typed.
The system processed the request.
A name appeared.
USER-01 CANDIDATE: RAKA ADINATA.
Raka froze.
Bima slowly turned toward him.
“What does that mean?”
Raka did not answer.
A second name appeared.
USER-02 CANDIDATE: NADIRA MAHESWARI.
The two of them fell silent.
Then the screen turned red.
SUCCESSION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.
Raka took a step back.
The final words appeared beneath the screen.
THREE PEOPLE HAVE THE RIGHT TO OPEN THE DATA.
TWO OF THEM HAVE BEEN SELECTED.
THE THIRD HAS BEEN WAITING.
The server-room lights suddenly went out.
The monitor remained lit.
In the darkness, a sentence slowly appeared.
WELCOME INSIDE THE SYSTEM.