Politicomma

Chapter Five

Firespike tottered up the street as fast as her tangerine-colored heels would let her, cursing Tabi under her breath for dropping that project into her lap at the last second.

The threat graffitied across the internetwork had left the Politicomma office tense and unsettled. The Mechanic Desk was awash in demands to ramp up security and to figure out not only how the message had been put there but why it was so difficult to extricate from their own code. The senators grumbled and scaremongered and shifted in their seats in the Chrysler Building's tiered congressional hall. Plans of action were prepared and promises to the public were broadcast. Every representative emphasized how seriously they were taking this.

Politicomma contributors wrote long articles responding to and countering the libelous accusations. Legal statements were put together to defend the algorithm that directed different groups of people to different portions of the blog. And then, of course, enablers like Firespike had to proofread, format, and add graphics to these posts before they could go live.

Tabi tackled the main issue head-on like a bulldog. Her sentences were brisk with indignation as she hacked and slashed at the allegations against the institution of Politicomma. This blog was still by the people, she declared. It was an active dialogue between the government, the legal system, and the followers. Yes, you had to be a follower to participate but the registration fee was certainly not unreasonable for an average income earner. Yes, the blog suggested different forums to different followers, but every blog did that. The data stream produced by every individual customized the content they experienced. It wasn't sinister; it was automatic.

The two other contributors on Firespike's team were equally loquacious. Markser wrote a graceful, detailed history of the evolution of the American legal system, elaborating on how Politicomma had been a natural evolution of the Judicial Branch. He wanted there to be a counterpoint to the attacker's clumsy summary of cherry-picked past events. Meanwhile, E-beth went for a more personal dressing down of the hacker's contradictory language, his misuse of long words, and how his logic didn't add up to his conclusions. Firespike particularly enjoyed assisting in the preparation of that post. E-beth had always been a bit flighty when it came to hard, dry legal debates but no one at Politicomma could identify and pick apart an opponent's insecurities faster.

Firespike knew it wasn't a great time to leave the office before midnight, but she had finished all her current projects. There wasn't anything more she could do besides sit and stew with her team. Besides, she had been looking forward to this night. Lately, aiming for high scores and binge-watching ToLo vidstreams were not distracting enough. She was craving some juicier entertainment.

Her shadow escorted her under the tall streetlights and below the cheerful windows of bistros. Wary about breaking an ankle and worried her make-up would smear if she continued to sweat, she slowed to an impatient walk. Her hand rose to the rim of her glasses.

Compose message to Octobier, she mouthed, absently stepping around a laughing couple and pausing at the curb.

Sorry! Only 5 minutes away. Be there soon!

The words glowed orange for a brief second and flew out of her sight. The closer she got to their chosen spot for dinner, the more his lack of response puzzled her. He couldn't still be on the subway, could he? But no, she spotted his mop of brown curls at the bar as she entered the dimly lit Italian restaurant. The brick walls and lacquered wooden tables flickered in the overhead lights, which were tempered by large swaths of beige and chocolate fabric swooping overhead.

The restaurant was full but not overly crowded and Firespike easily navigated her way to the long bar where Octobier was talking to a man about their age. Itching to get a glass of wine and some food, Firespike felt a few pricks of vexation that her date hadn't noticed her entrance. Surely his SiSup had alerted him she was near.