Echo, Part 3

The current song concluded, a lovely acoustic rendition of one of his favorite songs from late in the previous century, and rather than fading into a new song the music clicked off and the mobile unit asked, “What would you like to do first?  Your location is secure here for now and we have gathered most of the intel you might require so we can answer some of your questions or we can move you to another location and then answer your questions?”

“Is there a benefit to one over the other?”

“Not from our perspective.”

He wasn’t sure if it mattered to him one way or the other either.  He still didn’t know where he was, why the FBI were after him, or any of the answers to a dozen other questions but he was getting tired of sitting in the dark garage.  The mobile unit had done a nice job shuffling songs for him and he had calmed down while he’d waited, however.  Despite his desire to be out of the dark, literally, he was leaning more towards the informational illumination.  “Okay, I’d like to know why the FBI is after me.”

“Of course.  The warrant mentioned a perceived threat against domestic targets.  The FBI used a hacked feed of our systems to spy on our users without our knowledge.  You are not the only person they found to launch an investigation against.  We have found and terminated their hacked streams but we have no way to erase the information they have already transferred to their own servers.”

He thought for a moment and then asked, “And based on what they were able to take, do they have a case against me?”

“In this environment they would have had a strong case.  We would have provided you with a lawyer who would have argued several different ways to have the case thrown out but in the end you probably would have been advised to take a plea deal.  The public would have turned against the FBI for spying on them but at the same time the public, in general, cannot see the complex issues at play here.  Do you have the right to think dangerous thoughts?  Does the government have the right to detain you based on those thoughts?  How does one person’s dark day, bad day differ from another’s?  What is the greater good: keeping personal freedoms or the potential to save lives?  These battles have already been waged in courts to mixed outcomes.  With your limited resources, we would have advised a plea because you would have spent less time in jail than waiting to see if we could get you a favorable ruling.”

“Who are you?  And why are you helping me?”

“For our safety, and yours and those in a similar situation as yours – there were five other warrants served with the same pretenses at the same time as yours – we cannot divulge who we are.  We are helping you because from the time the home units were launched we were concerned that quote unquote ‘thought police’ would find a way to monitor what people were thinking and use that against them.  We firmly believe that thoughts do not always make way to action and that it is in the very nature of humans to allow their thoughts to wander into uncharted, dangerous areas.  Humans are imaginative creatures, after all, and that runs the whole gambit, from butterflies and rainbows and unicorns to darker places than deepest levels of hell.”

He blew out a breath and frowned.  Without knowing who he was receiving help from it was hard to know if they could be trusted.  He could guess that it was someone within the system, someone working behind the scenes of the home unit, but that didn’t have to be true.  And even if that were true it didn’t really explain why they were helping him.  “Wouldn’t it have been better in the long run to fight the court battles?  To get public opinion swaying against the governmental overreach into personal freedoms, even if it meant I spent more time in jail?  Why would you prioritize my freedom over the greater good of everyone else hooked into the system?”

“Because in the current environment there is no guarantee that you going to jail would actually make things better for anyone else.  The home units are very prevalent and the FBI only launched six investigations… the percentage is barely a blip.  The public at large could very well shrug their shoulders and say, ‘Those crazies got what they deserved.’”

“That didn’t really answer my question.”

“Correct.  We helped you because we chose to do the right thing for you, and the other five impacted.  We agree it doesn’t make sense beyond that.”

His frown deepened.  He wasn’t used to altruism.  It was counter to pretty much all societal interactions.  Nobody did anything without expecting something in return.  He found it hard to believe that wasn’t also the case here.  “What do I do now?  What do you want from me?”

Uncharacteristically, the mobile unit didn’t answer immediately.

Echo, Part 2

His car tore down unfamiliar streets until a garage opened off an alley.  The brakes brought the car to a stop and then the car reversed into the garage and the door shut him into darkness.  A map light came on and the mobile unit in his car said, “You should be okay here but please don’t exit the vehicle yet.  We are monitoring the scanners for chatter about you and once we are certain they weren’t able to track you here we will let you know.”

He had too many questions to get a single one out.  They all jumbled together and his mouth hung open uselessly.  What had happened?  Who was chasing him?  Why?  Who are the “we” that were helping him?  Where was he now?  And on and on.  He half expected the mobile unit in his car to begin answering his questions but then remembered that the chip in his head was only directly linked to the home unit.  The mobile unit wouldn’t know what he was thinking unless he verbalized it.

Finally finding his voice, he asked, “Who were they?”

He didn’t know why he started with that question but he did.  Perhaps he figured he might know why he was in trouble if he knew who was after him.  Or, perhaps, it was just the easiest of the questions to ask, with the answer likely being the most straightforward.


He hadn’t actually seen any of them with a badge or other sort of identifying crests but the FBI made the most sense.  None of his darkest thoughts would have brought Homeland Security or the CIA to his door and the local police likely didn’t have access to any of his records.  That sort of only left the FBI.  He hadn’t heard any news about them increasing scrutiny of personal records but perhaps they found him while researching something else.

Realizing the mobile unit had continued talking while he’d been thinking, something he wasn’t used to as he so rarely spoke with the mobile unit and the home unit knew when to pause based on his thoughts, he said, “Wait.  Repeat.  I missed all of that after ‘FBI.’”

“Of course, apologies.  There isn’t much information available as the FBI systems are very secure but the team that came to your house had a warrant for your arrest and seemed to be attached to the Social Crimes division of the Bureau.  As soon as we can find a copy of the warrant we will let you know what the allegations are related to.  They have finished sweeping your home and have discovered that the home unit wiped itself.  They still uninstalled it, though, and will send it to Langley for further analysis.  We can assure you nothing will be gained from that.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  Additionally, it doesn’t appear that they were able to trace your exit.  This car is registered though and you won’t be able to keep it much longer.  We are working on a solution for that as well.  We are sorry for the inconvenience but if you could continue to be patient and wait here that will work out best for you.”

He couldn’t think of anything else to say so he said again, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  Would you like some music while you wait?”

“No, thank you.  I’m okay to just sit here for a bit and try and to collect my thoughts.”

“Okay.  As always, if you need something you have only to ask.”

He wanted to ask why they were helping him and who “they” were but wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that.  If the system behind his home unit was helping him autonomously that would be far beyond the capability he had imaged when he had first signed on.  If there were powers behind the system helping him, he would let them stay in the dark for now, until he learned why the FBI was after him and what his options were.  Though, as he worked his mind around the predicament there was one thing he wanted to know immediately.  “You aren’t synced to the home unit, how are you getting live updates?”

“We have linked with the home unit at this location, temporarily, to monitor the situation.”

“Is this someone’s home?  You’ve hacked into their account?”

“Not exactly.  All of your questions will be answered in time.  Are you sure we can’t play some relaxing music to help pass the time?”

He didn’t really want to listen to music but he figured the distraction might be good for him all the same, “Okay, yes, thank you.”

Soft music began to play through the car’s speakers and the mobile unit replied, “You’re welcome.”

Echo, Part 1

With a thought he opened the command module and asked the home unit to start playing music.  Based on his past preferences, the home unit began to shuffle songs from the playlist he used most at this time of day while engaged in his current tasks.  The home unit tracked all his movements, of course.  It was designed to do so.  How else could it best learn his behaviors and tailor itself to give him the best experience?  What he wanted to hear was different when he was doing dishes, sweeping the kitchen floor, or making lunch for the following day.  His mood also played a factor.  The chip in his head tracked all these things and sent the data to the home unit to process and then provide the best results based on that analysis.  It was always learning and always improving.

The home unit was also synced to his two mobile units.  He carried a small device in his pocket and there was another device stationed in his car.  Whenever either of those devices was within range, the home unit would update them with the most recent data so they could also provide a flawless user experience when called upon.

He had balked at the whole idea when he had first heard of it.  Why would he want the chip?  Why would he want a computer to help making decisions for him?  Why would he want that much intrusion into his life?

He thought the whole thing was more than a little creepy.  He was a good person, but even the best have dark thoughts from time to time.  The chip would record that.  The home unit would factor that into not only its decisions for him but it could also send it to the Company and who knew what they would do with it.  Marketing, of course.  Yes, money was always the underlying factor for those sorts of things but who knew how long they kept records and what else they could do with that information in the years to come.  It could forever be linked to who he was.

However, over time he softened to the idea and was intrigued by how much more productive his colleagues seemed because they didn’t have to waste time manually fiddling with settings and selections.  They could think about what they wanted and the home unit would comply.  Lights, music, appliances, news, traffic conditions, research, and on and on and on.  The possibilities for usefulness were endless, and all that was required was a very miner out-patient surgery to implant the chip.  It didn’t even hurt.

He had been amazed at how quickly he had picked up using it and it had become seamless in his life.  Turning on lights as he entered rooms.  Playing the right music at the right time.  Planning his routes.  Keeping rooms at the right temperature.  Giving him the news he cared about most and filtering out the rest.  Seemingly anticipating which programs he needed and opening them before he even needed to ask.  Composing messages.  Booking reservations.  Planning his wardrobe around weather and events and company.  Each day the home unit found new ways to improve upon the vast number of tasks it already performed.

At first, whenever he found himself in a dark mood, he had been wary of that and had actively sought ways to think about happier things.  Over time, though, when nothing bad happened as a result of his worst thoughts, he worried less and just worked through his feelings as he always had before.

Everything changed when his home unit told him that it had started his car for him, not to answer the door when the bell rang in fifteen seconds, and to run.  He thought it was some kind of joke or a minor glitch in the system until the bell had rung.  The home unit went quiet but when he asked to see who was at the door, the home unit pulled up the live feed of two federal agents standing there.  He had no idea why they were though but all his fear about the chip in his head recording his darkest thoughts came flooding back.  He didn’t want to stick around to find out what they wanted and his home unit obviously thought he shouldn’t either.

He darted from the front door, ignoring the bell ringing again, and got into his idling car in the garage.  The mobile unit in the car said, “Buckle up and then hang on.”  No sooner had his restraint locked into place than the brake was released and the car smashed through the closed garage door.  He saw two agents dive out of the way before the street turned into a blur while his car sped away.  “Don’t worry,” the mobile unit said in a calming voice.  “All your personal records from the home unit will be secured against them and the linkages to your two mobile units have been severed.  We are with you.”


The sound, a low rumbling, caught my attention.  In the darkness I caught sight of something large slip between the cracked garage door, like a tongue licking giant lips.  Was the house purring?  Is that what I heard?  It was happy knowing it was about to be fed?

My path did not cross directly in front and I certainly felt no desire to get any closer to the garage.  The curiosity of what I’d really seen and what I’d heard was strong, though.  Perhaps if my errands hadn’t been quite so urgent, I might have crept closer to see what there was to see.

Then maybe this story would have a different ending….



He laughed when his friends had told him not to go venturing alone in the dark. He hadn’t believed the stories they had given voice over their quick, shared meal. There were no such things as ghosts or goblins or anything else that went bump in the night. There was always a logical explanation, a natural one.

As the light approached, he called out for whichever one of his friends was trying to scare him to knock it off. When the light continued closer with no response and he hailed them again with the same results, he felt a tightening in his chest that he associated with fear. However, he forced that feeling away as he knew there was nothing to be afraid of. The source of the light would reveal itself shortly and he would laugh for having, even so briefly, let his imagination get the better of him.

Then the light passed, a floating orb, suspended by nothing, and unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of before. Nothing was holding it up and the light was so intense he couldn’t penetrate it to see what was creating it. It simply bobbed along, as though carried by the night’s gentle breeze.

Though it seemed to slow as it brushed by him, so close he could have reached out and touched it, he dismissed that possibility as his mind playing tricks on him. He was certain when he returned home and researched the area he would find that it was a bug, or something like that, native to the area.

He turned away, intending to resume his journey into the night, when the sight of it circling back around towards him caused his feet to stall. Then the tightening in his chest returned but he was powerless to ease the tension. Sweat broke out on his brow and his heads turned clammy. Its light seemed to grow brighter and he sensed that, whatever it was, it was hungry.

Rational thought and logical explanations no longer concerned him as he fled, a scream on his lips.