Tap tap tap. The knocking on the door was just loud enough to wake Jessica. Groggy, she opened her eyes, and this time she saw what she expected. She was comforted by the beige walls of her hotel room. She slowly sat up as she looked around the room. Tap, tap, tap, the knocking continued.
“Give me a minute,” Jessica called toward the door. She saw that her roller bag was in the corner on the luggage rack, still zipped. She looked down, realizing that she was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, and she had slept on top of the bed covers.
She heard the knocking again, which forced her to gather enough energy to get out of bed and answer the door. Her legs buckled slightly with the first few steps. I must be exhausted. She grabbed her transparent mask and quickly placed it over her nose and mouth before opening the door.
“Deputy Director Shikibu,” Jessica said, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Ms. Ifill,” she said, her tone far from friendly. “May I come in?”
“Of course, please do.” Jessica held the door open and stepped aside. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the FBI would send someone to the CDC’s forum.”
The Deputy Director came in and placed a black backpack on the table next to the coffee maker. She reached in and pulled out a small black case, which she sat on top of the dresser next to the television. “Do you mind?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Jessica said as the Deputy Director retrieved two small cotton swabs. Jessica pulled her mask down slightly, only exposing her nose. She placed the cotton portion of the swab in her nostril and exhaled audibly. Jessica then pulled her mask back over her nose and handed the swab back to the Deputy Director, who then followed suit and ran the rapid test on each.
“We’re both negative. Are you comfortable pulling these down?” the Deputy Director asked, indicating her mask. “I’d like this conversation to be a bit more… informal.”
Jessica felt a little uneasy about what was to come. Her relationship with the Deputy Director had always been kind and professional, but never informal. “Sure, Mikiko,” Jessica said as she slowly pulled down her mask.
Mikiko pulled her mask down and smiled.
“I found your latest article quite interesting,” Mikiko said, as she pulled a rolled-up copy out of her bag. Jessica saw underlined and circled portions in her article, “Dark Energy, the Trillion-Dollar Market or Marketing Ploy?” “How did that go over with your friends at the Singularity Group?”
Jessica shrugged. “I told them I was going to write the truth. They knew what was coming, and Leslie didn’t seem worried about it hurting their competitive advantage.”
Jessica had received a lot of attention for her latest in-depth piece on the Singularity Group’s dark energy product lines. Jessica thought it was important that people know that there’s no “magic” behind their Dark Energy Smart Screen Technology. It’s just the latest evolution of Electro Encephalography or EEG technology that reads the brain’s electrical signals.
“Why did you write this one?” Mikiko asked.
“These screens are on every device in the world. The public should know that the technology embeds brain signal reading electrodes into each screen. People should understand that when their skin touches a screen, that technology can technically read their thoughts.”
Mikiko nodded. “I agree with you. People should know this, although they don’t seem to care as long as it makes their lives easier.”
Jessica realized that she still had no idea why Mikiko was in Atlanta in her hotel room. “I can talk about my writing all day, but why are you here?”
“Well,” Mikiko started, “as part of this trip, I was originally planning to speak to a person that I believe we both know, Zach Carver. I’m just curious about how well you know him.”
“Why?” Jessica asked, becoming suspicious of this line of conversation. She crossed her arms.
Mikiko looked around the room. “Do you mind if we sit?”
The two sat at the small round table in the room. As Jessica settled in her seat, she rubbed both of her temples with her index and middle finger.
Mikiko leaned back in the chair and asked, “Are you all right?”
Jessica looked up, nodded, and tried to smile as she rested her hands in her lap.
Mikiko stared at Jessica, and then as if she had decided on something, she gave a sharp nod and said, “I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures.”
This made Jessica sit up even straighter in her chair. “What’s up?”
“I assume that you are familiar with Confidence Biotech?” Mikiko asked.
“Yes,” Jessica said. She and her colleagues had done several hours of research on the company. “They operate a relatively successful company, but we received a tip to look deeper into their financials and business practices. We didn’t find an angle at the time, so other stories took priority.”
Mikiko said, “We, too, investigated them but didn’t come up with anything solid enough to support some odd complaints. The investigation stalled, but then our interest was sparked again when we found out that they were going to partner with the Singularity Group to develop some technology.”
“But then the Singularity Group pulled out of that partnership,” said Jessica.
“Didn’t you wonder why?” asked Mikiko.
“Of course.”
“Well, us too,” replied Mikiko. “We began to uncover some tidbits of information, but now with the announcement…”
“What announcement?” Jessica asked.
Mikiko laughed tentatively.
Jessica shook her head. “No. What announcement?”
Mikiko studied Jessica. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” was all that Jessica could say.
“On the first day of the conference, Confidence Biotech announced that they are launching a brand-new global system that can remotely trace and track viral infections. It’s called Global Breadth, and it relies on a proprietary, private network. They’re claiming it to be infallible. We believe it to have been a product of that partnership.”
“Wh-what?” Jessica said, looking down at the table. How did I miss that? “The first day of the conference?” Jessica asked, looking back up for confirmation.
“Yes,” Mikiko affirmed. “That’s why I came to speak with you. I assumed that you had some form of connection with Zach through your writing on the Singularity Group. He’s a savant and the key point person on any new technology.”
Jessica still didn’t say anything as Mikiko continued, “But then Zach went missing last Sunday night.”
“What?” Jessica asked, genuinely alarmed. “That’s impossible!” I just talked to him last night. She continued, “I got in last night; why didn’t I hear about any of this?”
“Jessica,” Mikiko said with a look of concern spreading across her face, “your flight landed a little over a week ago. I came to your hotel room because no one has seen you at the conference all week. I need your help to help Zach.”
A week ago? She tried to think back to her last meeting with Zach, but her memory was so foggy. “Do you have any leads on where he could be?”
“We did find him.” Mikiko paused before continuing. “He’s been admitted into an assisted living home not far from here. Zach’s been diagnosed with an early stage of dementia.”
“What? He’s way too young for that,” Jessica said. This is impossible.
“That’s what I said. I hope that he’s been misdiagnosed, but…” Mikiko trailed off.
Jessica searched her mind for any explanation and tried not to freak out.
“Jessica.”
Mikiko saying her name brought her mind back to the hotel room.
“There’s one more thing.”