The Wired Man

2

I'm still not sure how or why I was chosen. I had a normal life, a normal job, a normal girlfriend. I was about as average as you could be, or at least I thought I was. Robert Janis thought differently, though. He made it a habit of seeing things others could not, which is how he ended up turning his social media company, Livespace, into the Social Protection Agency. Of all the people involved in this, Robert was the only one who knew exactly what was going on. What his motives were I couldn't tell you, but I'm fairly certain that I wasn't the first. I tried to find videos from his previous subjects, but he was good at covering his tracks. Most of the surveillance video he suppressed was never recovered, and I was lucky to find what I did pertaining to my situation, let alone any others.

—TWM

Entry Re: Robert Janis

Name: Robert Janis

Employment: Not Applicable

Score: -1

Globally Unique Identifier: 0

"Hello, Gary," said Robert.

Gary Serdinal was the Network Supervisor for the Social Protection Agency. After Robert's removal, Gary provided him with some much-needed entertainment. That and a large sum of untraceable operating funds. Gary never could turn down a quick buck.

Gary's face appeared from across the link, and Robert leaned back in his leather executive chair. The room glowed with light from the window making up the wall behind him, and the wooden bookshelves lining the sides gave off a healthy sheen. Robert swished the umbrella drink in his hand around in a circle and put his feet up on the desk.

"Did you get my message?" he said.

Gary looked stern; his bald head reflected a shine from the office lights above him. "Yes."

"Good. So we have an understanding then?"

"That depends on the figures."

"Money's money, Gary. You're not doing any of the work, so I suggest you weigh your options before doing anything hasty."

Gary looked away and loosened the noose on his tie. "Yeah, but I'm taking all the risk."

"What risk? If push comes to shove, you're going to blame it all on me anyway."

A sly grin pulled at the corners of Gary's mouth.

"You have nothing to worry about," Robert said. "Now about the timing." He stood and turned to the large window overlooking the city behind him. "The suspension should happen sometime around 4:30 when they do their reconciliation. His score should drop to 900 if our calculations are correct. Then all you have to do is start the protocol and make the transaction once the suspension tag is momentarily removed by the new program I gave you. But remember to wait until at least 4:55 PM to activate it."

"That only gives me five minutes to make the sale."

"Plenty of time. The programming checks will take at least ten minutes to pick up on it, and by then, the money will be out of your dummy account."

After a minute, Gary nodded. A man in a gray Hawaiian shirt entered from the double doors opposite where Robert stood.

Robert swiveled around. "Gary, I've got some business to attend to, so I must cut this little chat short."

"Make sure to hold up your end of the bargain," Gary said.

"When have I ever steered you wrong?"

Gary stood up without another word, and the link went black. The man opposite Robert sat in one of the brown leather chairs.

"You didn't tell him," the man said.

"No." Robert turned back to the window and put his index finger on the glass. "But he's a smart man. I'm sure he'll figure it out." He took a drink. "Won't matter much, though, because by the time he does, everything will already be set in motion."

"What if this one fails?" the man in the Hawaiian shirt said.

"Always so pessimistic."

"Realistic."

Robert turned around to see the man wearing his usual frigid stare. He was right. This man would most likely fail like all the rest, and, if Gary found out, they would need to find another avenue. Robert set his glass on the desk. No, there wouldn't be a next time. This time it would be for everything. If the system defeated him this time, then it was all the answer he'd ever need.

"I've got a good feeling about this one," Robert said, sitting back down.

He didn't have any feelings one way or the other, but it felt good saying he did. Robert had spent his entire life faking empathy. He claimed to give a shit about the orphans when he ran his charity. He claimed to be interested in the hungry kids in Haiti when he did his mass food drive. Deep down, however, he knew that he only truly cared about one thing: the challenge, and this was a challenge like none he had faced before or would ever again. He would win or die trying, and the dying was starting to look better every passing day.

"Anything to back this feeling up?"

"Nope, just a feeling."