Minions (5 page)

“Surely there are hackers who could get in.”

“Possibly, and but purely on account of the fact that I’m
not being issued with a new summons every minute, I’m confident that the system
is
secure.”

Devlin was not convinced.  “Government agencies must be
able to get in and you’d never know it.”

“If the Government got in then they’d just make the
information public but the protocols seem to spread the information to the
right parties.”

“So the police
do
get the information?”

Glen interrupted on his return, surprising everyone. 
“Thanks Lori, Ikel.  Leave us.”

Devlin let himself be coaxed back to the comfortable
armchairs as Lori and Ikel moved away.  “It’s a little odd that no-one knows
about your protocols, Glen.”

“Yes, I heard what you said and how ably Lori was
explaining things.  To answer your question, protocols are in place for
everything we can glean from messages.”

“So what happens to the information?”

“When you’re ready I’ll explain.”

“What about privacy?  Surely there must be laws against
this.”

“Privacy is a funny thing, Devlin.  For so long as the
system is secure then everyone’s privacy is assured.  Amongst other things, for
privacy to be legally breached, it must be proven that information was actually
passed on.  But privacy also works for us.  Privacy is why the protocols are
secret.  Privacy absolves you from responsibility if LastGaspStore was ever breached
because you are not privy to the protocols.”  Glen smiled smugly.

“So who gets the information?”

“Never you mind.  I’ll ask you what you think in a few
days.  For now, I’ll write off your concerns as a naïve lack of
understanding.”  Glen turned to Lori and Ikel who had remained distant but
within earshot.  “Let him in.” 

                                                                                                                                                        
Chapter - 10.
               
 

Where previously Devlin had been merely shown the system,
now he was allowed free reign to actually
use
it, drawing on Lori and Ikel
for assistance where necessary.  David passively observed the tutelage,
seemingly ready to intercede should his greater experience be warranted.

The first message Devlin read was benign and sentimental,
just as he’d expected.  The text was a series of words from a married family
man to his wife and family.  As he read, he was more than aware of his own
cynicism.  The guy had taken up the free package; a simple means to ensure that
his family knew he loved them.  Words left either unsaid, or unproven, or perhaps
words that needed to be reiterated. 

Message after message followed with nothing that sparked
any interest.  Devlin could feel his enthusiasm starting to wane; a well-paying
job was nothing if it meant a life of tedium, but it was a start, perhaps until
the heat died off.

“Here’s one!” announced Ikel.  “Have a read when it comes
your way.”

The screen before Devlin alerted him to a new message,
lacking in any identification just like the rest, other than an icon indicating
that it had been marked for peer review.  He started to read and immediately
came to the realisation that this was not a message of love.  Nor was it a
message of regret.  Instead, Devlin read a sad tale of a lonely man and his
rave-like justification for his personality and his many failings.  This was
someone writing his own epitaph for anyone who might be interested, but Devlin
felt that few would cry for the passing of this man primarily on account of the
thinly veiled references to his penchant for young boys.  The paedophilic references
turned his impression of member #1009345 from worthy of passing disinterest, to
one of disgust.  “You’re kidding me!” he announced to the others.

“We don’t get many of them, but we do get them,” Lori
sighed.

“What now?” Devlin asked.

“Flag it, and move on.  Yours is not to judge any further,”
David said authoritatively.  Lori and Ikel nodded their concurrence.

“It could have been worse.  The last one like that I read
was more masochistic and graphic.  At least this one demonstrated some
decorum,” said Lori.

“Oh yeah.  He was a real sick fucker!” Ikel said,
determined to say something.

“Ikel, quiet,” David started calmly, pausing only to find
the right words.  “In another life at a time such as this, I would have
espoused the virtues of forgiveness and love, and for my own benefit, sought
solace in the Judgement.  I turned my back on that life because I learned to
understand that Judgement takes too long.  Now, you need to learn to be
comfortable that flagging the message is all the judgement that’s needed from
you.”

Devlin was nowhere near as collected in reply.  “The guy’s
a paedophile!  I’m glad he’s dead!  There’s my judgement!”

“First things first.  These messages haven’t been sent
yet.  This guy is still alive, he’s just getting his house in order,” said David. 

“It might be a
ghost
anyway,” Ikel added. 

“A ghost is a bogus or dummy member, created by persons
unknown,” David pre-empted Devlin’s next logical question while reaching for
his drink.  “They keep us on our toes.”

“Why would someone create a ghost?”

“Remember that LastGasp’ is a miracle of legal loopholes,”
Lori answered while David drank from his mug.  “All it needs is one security
breach to bring it unstuck.  A ghost message could be just a setup.  Some
information planted to see if anything happens.”

“Except this one isn’t a ghost,” David added.  “There’s no
definitive identification of anyone, perpetrator, friends
,
or victims. 
This one’s just a
paed’
.  Rack it up and move on.”

“So we do nothing?” Devlin asked in disbelief.

“You’ve done enough already.  You’ve flagged it.  Move
on,” said David.

Devlin sensed he was about to upset David again, when Lori
began.  “What could you do?  There’s nothing that you can do in this case.

“Think about it.  No-one can access the message text except
for us, and there’s nothing identifying in it.  This one’s a lost cause.  We
don’t, and can’t, know who sent it.  And this guy hasn’t left any clues to help
us track him down, directly or indirectly.”

“But surely the police could…” Devlin thought out loud.

“The police can’t do anything.  They aren’t allowed to
access a private database because of privacy, and even if they
could
,
which they can’t, what could they do with it?  Little more than us,” Lori spoke
understandingly.

“But they aren’t all like this,” David said
optimistically.

“So I’ve seen,” Devlin said.  “So I put up with the crap
to be periodically distracted with paedophilic epitaphs.  Great!  And for the
record, Glen and you all sold this job as a means of making a difference.  I
don’t see this as making
any
difference.”

“You miss my point.  I said the messages lack identifying
header type information, like the member name and their contact details.  But
they’re often not totally anonymous.”

“So you
can
identify people?”

“Of course.  Some people with nothing to hide mention
names, including their own, often writing about themselves in the third person
like an obituary.  Others who actually do have something to hide also name
people or themselves.  Directly, or indirectly we can often identify people.”

“Glen is the best at it.  Identifying people that is,”
added Ikel.  “I’m OK, but David is bloody hopeless.” 

David took the light-hearted criticism well.  “And because
I’m so bad at it, there’s a whole Research Interface to help.  Lori will show you
that I’m sure.”

“Lori?” asked Devlin.

“I’ll show you it later.  Let it run, and it comes back
with masses of information which you can use to help identify the message
sender.  It’s much like an Internet search, but this will give you more.  Lots
more!”

“God knows where it all comes from, but it’s not perfect,”
said David.  “Glen’s algorithm doesn’t seem to be as good as Google’s, so you
just get masses of information.  It’s really just a tool to enable you to qualify
a protocol.”

“It’s only when you can identify people that you
understand the breadth of the LastGasp’ member base,” Lori added excitedly. 
“Politicians, rock-stars, sports-men and women.”

“None of this explains what happens to the information,”

Lori, Ikel and David looked at each other, albeit
fleetingly, before David answered.  “We think that all of the protocols
basically mean that Glen gets notified, thereafter, we each have our theories
or suspicions for what happens next.  It’s fair to say that none of us think
that the police formally receive the information.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you think that the police would have a mandate to
do something with the information?  Or they’d drive constitutional changes so
that they could, legally, get the information for themselves.  We’d hear about
it if they got the information one way or another.”  A smile appeared on
David’s face, adding, “But I never said nothing happens.  Ikel calls it ‘Karma’. 
I prefer ‘Divine intervention’.”

“Like what kind of Karma?”

“We read things and routinely what we’ve read come to
light in other ways.  You’ll see for yourself soon enough.  For example,
recently I read a message from a woman mentioning, amongst other things, regret
for a love tryst with her husband’s friend.  We flagged it.  Not long after you
might have seen in the news a guy being charged with a near fatal beating of
his friend.” 

“Hardly definitive,” challenged Devlin. 

“Perhaps, but the devil’s in the detail.  There was
explicit information in the message that matched the defendant’s
justification.  Our means of identification might not be an exact science, but
at least in this case there was no mistake.”

“That’s hardly proof that Glen or LastGasp’ information
was involved.  It sounds more like a co-incidence.”

“And so LastGasp’ remains safe from litigation,” David
replied in a matter of fact manner.  “That’s the point.  Even we couldn’t swear
to Glen’s or LastGasp’ involvement.  We experience a lot of coincidences!”

“Right,” said Devlin, beginning to understand. 
“Paedophiles go free, but Glen makes sure that adulterers get some justice.  So
did he contact this guy directly?”

“Maybe, but you’d never know.  Cases like this happen all
of the time, but you’d never know if you didn’t know what to look for.  Thus
the TVs and if the truth be known, most of our reading is of newspapers rather
than messages.”

“Most of us virtually live here so that we don’t miss
stuff,” Ikel added.

“So do the paedophiles get theirs?”

“Stop being fixated on paedophiles!  Just focus on the
messages,” David insisted.  “The Research Interface is there to help us identify
people, but you’ll discover after you use it that it’s next to useless in its
current form.  Glen will get his algorithm right sooner or later.”

“OK.  So what gets flagged?” Devlin realised that there
were things that, for now at least, he needed to accept.

“I’ll explain it as it was explained to me; to each of
us.  Flag what would make your ears prick up and take notice if you overheard
it.”

“Got any other examples?”

“Come on!  Think about it,” David made Devlin think.  “What
would make you listen harder if you heard it?”

“Anything sounding like a confession?  Murder?  Rape?”

“Yes, and no,” said Lori.  “You’re right, but you needn’t
just
think of the sinister side.  There is an upside of human nature you know.”

“What about someone who’s looking to take their own life?”
David complimented Lori’s approach.  “What about someone writing of their
ongoing search for a person that could be someone you know?  Would this attract
your attention?”

“And all this gets flagged?”

“‘
Flag it’
is as much as you need to understand.” 

“Of course, we can use our own discretion too,” said
Lori.  “We call that a personal protocol.”

“That sounds more promising.”

“Glen calls it ‘doing what you think is right’. 
Promising
it may be, but there’s a rule.  It mustn’t get back to LastGasp.”

“
That
’s it?”

“Yes. 
That
is it,” said David.  “But it isn’t as
simple as your naivety would have you believe.  All you need to do is identify
someone, without any identifying information, and then do what you think is
right.  But what would you do?  If you just confront the person, on the
assumption that you
can
identify someone, a complete stranger, then
they’ll know the source, and
that
can’t happen.”

“What if …”

David stopped Devlin before he could complete his point. 
“Whatever you’re suggesting, a re-think is in order.  Violence won’t get you
anywhere, and it only takes for you to be implicated in any capacity for
LastGasp’ to come unstuck.”

“I could go to the media.  An anonymous tip?”

“Same deal.  The media are as dumb as they are ruled by
the dollar,” David challenged.  “Technically, the media are even worse than you
confronting someone personally.  Not only would your target person be able to
identify where the information actually came from, but the media would, sooner
or later reveal their source.  Both of which are bad.

“Making a difference here is simpler and more productive
than you’d think.  Just flag it and move on.”

“That’s not making a difference!” announced Devlin. 
Incensed, he looked to enlist some support.  “Lori, Ikel, help me out here.  I
feel like I’ve entered this under false pretences.  Make a difference, my
ass!” 

Lori and Ikel did not rally to Devlin’s call.  They looked
to David, demonstrating their allegiance accordingly.  “Ikel.  Take him out for
a bit of headspace,” said David.  Ikel stood obligingly, and ushered Devlin to
the door.