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Thea’s political discussion group would be meeting soon. They had reached an important stage in developing the first Utopian community. Her input now would make more of a difference than ever. And she had made friends there.
But how could she know what her original self, her real self, would want her to do? If she’d seen what she thought she’d seen in the code, she could rely on nothing she thought, nothing she felt.
Should she sit in her room, frightened and useless, counting the minutes and even the seconds until the next private call, hoping that Max’s mysterious contacts would somehow come to her rescue? Or join her friends and work on a project she might not have supported without interference?
She would compromise. She would attend, and take copious notes, and see people who cared about her (but would they, on their own?..). And when she had either confirmed or regained her control of her beliefs and priorities, then she would decide whether to rejoin the effort or to oppose it.
* * * * *
Dane had finally managed to nag Esther into bringing him along on one of her meets with Max. He had a hunch that he had more in common with Max than did Dane’s deliberate and cautious co-conspirator.
Though he probably should have guessed that Max would keep staring at Esther when she wasn’t looking. Well, Esther was a looker, no denying it, even all bundled up against the chilly ocean breeze. And no matter what sort of epic love story Max and Thea might be starring in, she’d gone on a journey where Max wouldn’t—they all hoped—be following her for decades, if ever.
Back to business.
Max could hardly sit still, bouncing his knees up and down as he sat cross-legged on the blanket. At this rate, he would dig a hole in the sand under the blanket, but he probably wouldn’t notice until he actually fell in. “It probably did happen to Thea, because she saw it happen to her friend! And he’s some tough-guy lawyer! At least, he used to be. Now he’s mellow and, um, passive, Thea says, and sort of zoned out all the time.” Max pounded both fists on the blanket. “If they do that to Thea, I’ll kill them, I swear I will!”
Esther reached out and pressed her palm on Max’s arm. His eyes went wide for a moment, and he stopped pounding the sand. “We’re all here to help Thea and her friends. You know very well she wouldn’t want you ruining your own life and putting yourself in danger. And how would you choose your target? No single person in the company is likely to be irreplaceable, not at this stage when the main creative work—if we call it that, which I hate to do—has already been done.”
Esther glanced at Dane. “Dane here has an idea. It has some risks, but frankly, so does everything we might try. If you don’t mind sharing your private phone time with us today, we’d like to see what Thea thinks.”
Thea sat through the introductions with obvious impatience, barely managing to smile at Esther and Dane before blurting out, “I can’t be sure, but I think I found something. In —” She looked around furtively, though she must have known how pointless it was. “You know where.”
Max closed his eyes and bit his lip. He would cry any minute, and that would probably upset Thea even more. Dane had better say something. “I’ll bet you’re dying—whoops, sorry about that —”
Thea started and then, to Dane’s relief, relaxed and actually giggled. Max’s eyes popped open, and he relaxed also. Esther might be glaring at Dane, but he didn’t look at her as he rushed on. “Eager, that is, to take some action. And we had an idea about that.”
Dane had already drafted the item they would be posting on numerous sites: three concise paragraphs, but loaded with language to make people take notice. And he’d posted anonymously before, though nothing this important. Esther double-checked his precautions, and found one to add (phew). He clicked the final click and sat back while the alarm went off to ring its cyber bell.
* * * * *
Hu habitually kept track of a few underground threads. Some of her partners would never have deigned to get near such sources; but then, some of her partners had no idea why she was so well-informed on the latest tech fads and youth trends and hot-button political issues.
Before she dove in this time, she checked her messages and found the hoped-for reply from her tech guru, a preteen whose mother she’d represented three years back. The links he’d sent gave her a head start on current discussions of storage issues.
She checked the first three, skimming quickly for anything of interest. The thread had gotten more active since her last look a few days before. All the usual participants, and some whose tags she didn’t recognize, seemed to be agitated about a post from the night before. She went back and found it.
She hadn’t seen the tag before. #PaulRevere. That suggested urgency, and maybe some self-importance.
Moments later, she understood why.
A stored person, a lawyer like herself, had first gone through some political changes, even radicalization, and insisted on changing his name, and had then not just reverted but become a compliant nonentity . . . .
She skimmed the subsequent discussions, looking for any clues to confirm her guess as to the lawyer’s identity, but found none. She went on to the next thread, and the next, finding much the same picture: the initial post, the outraged reactions, the same level of detail.
She went back through all the threads more slowly. Naturally some of those posting had suggestions, ranging from an assault on the storage facility to broader publicity to (her stomach turned) trying to find a way to use this technology in pursuit of one or another political aim. But one suggestion made perfect sense. “Someone should sue!”
Someone indeed.
* * * * *
Once again, Max’s and Thea’s private time would be no such thing. But privacy, and the sweetness it could allow, would have to take a back seat for the foreseeable future.
Another newcomer had joined them: a lawyer, with the shortest possible name (some sort of nickname, or even code?), and glossy black hair cut in a complex geometrical pattern that Thea’s curls could never copy. (Though she might be able to look like that, if she chose. Hell, no. Whatever aspects of her identity she could retain, she would.) (Unless —)
She held up a hand in apologetic interruption. “Before we go on—Max, have I always looked like this?”
Max stuck out his lower lip. “Well, I don’t know about always, but for the last ten years or so, pretty much. Except you were blonde most of that time.”
Of course. It would be too easy for friends and family to notice changes in appearance and ask about them. She needed to keep her wits about her rather than succumbing to hysteria. “I’m sorry. Please go on. Hu, thank you for joining us.” It would sound rude, especially after that latest bit of juvenile behavior, to ask straight out what Hu was doing in their conspiracy. No doubt someone would explain.
That someone proved to be the irrepressible Dane. “Hu’s a partner of your lawyer friend. She found our post and figured we meant him. She wants to help.”
It was good to know that Jim—but would he have taken that name, if not for some manipulation? The ground would just not stop shifting beneath her. Whatever his name should be, it was good to know he had friends who cared what had happened to him, just as she did. “What do you have in mind?”
Hu flashed a smile, showing small white teeth with a slight inward curve to them. “You may have heard the saying that to a hammer, all the world looks like a nail. We lawyers are like that. I would like to file a lawsuit, exposing and challenging the manipulation of essential aspects of stored individuals without their knowledge or consent.” The smile disappeared. “But there are technical hurdles to be addressed.”
Thea studied each of them in turn. Esther appeared both tense and excited; Dane, excited and eager. And Max, as so often lately, looked lost.
Apparently she had been assigned the role of prompter. “What sort of obstacles?”
Hu sat up a little straighter, suddenly reminding Thea of a calculus professor from her college days. “In order to bring suit, one must have at least one plaintiff, a person or entity who initiates the suit. And the plaintiff or plaintiffs must have a particular stake in the matter, an injury to redress or to prevent. If the goal is prevention, the threat of that injury must be more than speculative. There must be reason for the court to believe that its intervention is necessary. This requirement is known as ‘standing.’ So I could not simply file suit on behalf of the entire stored community or some randomly selected individual.”
Max piped up. “But what about your lawyer friend? It’s obvious he’s been, uh, altered.”
Dane snorted. “More like mentally raped!”
Esther winced; Hu simply nodded. “Indeed. However, from what I understand of his current mental state, he is highly unlikely to understand what has occurred or to agree to litigation on his behalf. And as he is currently deemed a citizen, able to vote and carry on commercial affairs, I could not claim to be his ‘next friend’ and sue on his behalf.”
“So let me see if I follow you.” Thea mentally ticked off items. “You need a plaintiff who’s been altered or has reason to fear alteration. And your plaintiff has to be willing to come forward.”
Hu tilted her head and wrinkled her porcelain forehead. “Yes, as to the first. As to the second, we could initially file suit using a pseudonym, such as the classic Jane Doe. The defendants will certainly seek disclosure of the plaintiff’s actual identity, arguing that only such disclosure will allow proper scrutiny of the plaintiff’s standing to sue. I expect they would sooner or later prevail on that point.”
Max was now staring at Thea with an uneasy blend of affection and alarm. “I know what you’re thinking. And I wish I wasn’t thinking it too.”
Thea took a long and very deep breath, then faced each of the others in turn. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I believe I’ve already been—affected. We have evidence of one political about-face, and since I had no idea I’d made it, we should be able to argue that my views didn’t just evolve. And for what it’s worth, there’s my impression of irregularities in my current code. Even without either of those facts, there’s my close association with J—with your friend. That makes me a natural target, doesn’t it? Or would we have to prove what they’ve done to him to make that argument?”
“Not right away. And if the lawsuit survives the initial hearings, we will be able to demand information from the defendants’ files to support our claims. Of course, we can expect various attempts to evade those demands.” Hu smiled again, but looking at that smile, Thea could hardly believe that the smooth white teeth were not pointed. “I am, however, accustomed to overcoming such tactics.”
Thea tried to remember everything Jim had told her. “If we lose, they’ll be able to bankrupt Max, won’t they?”
Max’s hands had clenched into fists. “I don’t give a damn about that—but none of you are talking about the bigger risk. These ‘defendants’ have Thea completely in their power.”
Hu turned toward Max and nodded. “That is why it would be wise to make our move as publicly as possible. So that any reprisals become tactically unwise.”
“Do it!” Thea almost shouted the words. Then she looked at Max and had to hold back tears at his woebegone expression. “We have to, baby. It’s that or just sit and wait for the next time they decide to change me. If you love me, help me do what I can to stay myself.”
Max gazed at her, his face imbued with such love that even his loud sniff failed to make the moment less solemn and precious. Then he turned toward Hu. “You heard the lady. Go for it. Please. And thank you.”
* * * * *
Esther and Dane and Hu had all hung up, leaving Max finally alone with Thea for the few moments until the substitute conversation would end. Their connection must be broken before that happened.
Which made what he had to tell her that much harder. Oh, he could just not say anything. As soon as she thought about it, she would realize how things stood.
But he wanted to be with her, in the only way he could, when she found out.
“Lover, once Hu files the lawsuit with your name on it. . . . Things will change.”
Did she already know? She looked at him so solemnly. But maybe that was because he sounded so sad.
“We think the private call dodge has been working. But once they know you’re fighting them, they’ll be on you like lice on a hat.”
She didn’t laugh. She just waited.
“Once we go public, we won’t have any more privacy until it’s over.” As if some happy ending could be counted on. “Hu isn’t ready to file yet. We could talk to Esther and Dane about squeezing in one more session.”
“No, lover.” Thea held her palm close to her screen. Max put his cheek near his own, imagining her touch. “We don’t have to worry about who’s listening. I’ll say I love you, and you’ll say you love me, and to hell with eavesdroppers. You all can do your conspiring without me.”
“We won’t have to do that. I forgot to say—you and Hu can have confidential calls. Because she’s your lawyer.”
Now Thea did chuckle. “All right. But she’s not as cute as you.” A pause. “And don’t tell me she is too that cute. . . . Does Hu really think they wouldn’t listen in?”
“She thinks with a court order, she can make sure of it somehow.”
“That’s good. Hey, I had another idea. We can still work on our music. Let’s hope whoever’s listening absolutely hates our stuff.”
