NaNoWriMo, Day Three

While I normally put in a lot of  internal links to previous, related posts here, I won’t be doing that for what I hope will be thirty NaNoWriMo posts. If you have jumped into or stumbled onto this story in mid-adventure, there are plenty of other ways to navigate around the site to find previous installments. Actually doing so is left as an exercise to the student.

A little bit less adrenaline and enthusiasm today, a little more reality. It’s one thing to “know” that it’s going to be a lot of hard work, it’s another thing to know it.

I wanted to move the story along and get a little bit of help and possibly useful information for Tom and Jason. I found that I kept coming up with logic issues as I wrote. (“Wait, wouldn’t this be a problem? How would they explain that?”) It also became increasingly obvious that Tom and Jason had to meet ASAP, and why. (I had originally thought that they wouldn’t meet face to face for a while.) By the time I was done with that, the destination for Chapter Three had changed. What I thought would come next here will have to wait for a chapter or two, and I now see some additional wrinkles and plot twists down the road.

Good thing I’m keeping notes!

CHAPTER THREE

By mid-morning Tom had talked to his mother, his two brothers, his sister, and his two surviving uncles. In each case the conversations were casual, pleasant, and ostensibly about the usual family gathering during the upcoming holidays. It wasn’t too terribly unusual for Tom to call any one of them from time to time. As long as his family didn’t suddenly compare notes and wonder why Tom was calling all of them at the same time and asking some of the same questions of each of them, there shouldn’t be any suspicions raised.

Tom’s younger brother and sister knew nothing of Aunty Annie, largely because she had been banished from the household before they were out of diapers. They knew who she was but couldn’t recall ever having talked to her or had any contact with her at all. When asked why he might be asking about her, Tom gave out a pre-packaged story about a new family tree making software package that he was playing with. He had even gone so far as to download and install the software, so he dutifully took their information about birth dates, birth locations, spouses, spouses’ data, kids’ data, and so on.

Tom’s older brother had a few memories of Aunty Annie but he hadn’t had any recent contact with her either. When pressed about his memories of her, all he said was, “She was a loon and she smelled funny. I was scared of her and I thought it was great when Mom and Dad told her to get lost. She was always trying to touch my head. Yours too, even when you were really little. I tried to keep you hidden from her when she came over but she would still track you down. I would find her holding your head and whispering to you. It was really, really creepy me out. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

Tom’s mother and uncles were able to give him plenty of genealogical data for the family tree. Using that pretext Tom was able to get them to talk at some length about their oldest sister. All of them described her as being “odd”, even as a child. Despite everyone’s hopes that she would grow out of it, it was a condition that got worse as time went on. Both of Tom’s uncles thought that their parents might have had Annie tested to see if she had what now would be called a “learning disability”, but they didn’t know what the tests might have shown.

As an adult, Annie had problems holding a job. She never had any boyfriends or lovers that any of them knew of. When the Sixties rolled around everyone in the family that there must be drugs involved, but there was never any evidence or proof. If nothing else, she never did anything to get herself arrested.

Her “condition” had apparently gotten worse about the time of the moon landings. Where before she had often acted as if she were listening to things that no one else could hear and seeing things that no one else could see, the fact that men were walking on the moon was a source of agitation for her. No one could figure out why and Annie wasn’t able to tell them. When pressed, she only said that they wouldn’t be able to understand it if they didn’t already know why, whatever that meant.

For thirty years, Annie had drifted, usually though the southwest and mountain states. She lived a vagabond life, moving irregularly through a series of communes in Colorado, Utah, and Arizona. One summer one of her uncles had gotten a phone call from her when she was in Alberta and needed money to get back to the United States. Tom’s other uncle had kept a handful of letters he had gotten from her during those years. From them Tom got three decades-old, probably useless, return addresses.

When Tom’s grandmother had become seriously ill, she had asked about Annie, wanting to see her one last time. Tom’s mother remembered telling Nana that Annie was lost somewhere living like a damn hippie, only to have Nana retort that hippies had sex, drugs, and rock and roll, while Annie had nothing to do with any of those things. Near the end, when she was heavily sedated, Nana had also repeatedly said that Annie was only partially of this world, but there hadn’t been any further explanation.

The introduction of the internet and email had brought Annie back into the fold in a small way. For some reason Annie had taken to the idea of living a virtual, online life. As others in the family gradually got online accounts they would receive long, ranting tomes from Annie once or twice a year. No one had kept any of those files, of course, with most of them disappearing with the death of AOL, Hotmail, and other email services now long defunct.

The last that anyone had heard from Auntie Annie was about 2012 or 2013. She had sent a few cryptic e-mails to everyone about how “it was getting worse” and she was going to have to go underground for her own safety. Following her previous communications these messages were notable in their brevity. Annie was sounding distinctly paranoid with talk of being followed and under constant surveillance. She was going offline permanently and they shouldn’t look for her.

In the five years since, no one had heard a word. No one knew if she was alive or dead and no one seemed particularly interested in finding out. Tom thanked each of his relatives for their personnel data, anecdotal comments, and family recollections. He promised to send around copies of the family tree data once he got it all pulled together.

Once all of the familial phone calls had been made, Tom set to work trying to see what digital clues might be out there which could possibly lead to Auntie Annie. For more than an hour he played with different search engines and key words, looking for any record of her existence. The skills he had learned as a science and tech reporter came back easily and soon he had several additional nuggets of information.

There was no sign that Annie had ever had a driver’s license or owned a car. Ever. Tom couldn’t even conceive of that in this day and age, but a thorough search of vehicle registrations and DMV records drew a complete blank.

Annie must have had a social security number issued, since her younger siblings all had them. In fact, her two brothers had numbers that were only one digit off from each other, indicating that they had been issued at the same time, probably when they were kids in the mid-Sixties. Tom tried to see if the previous or following SSN’s might get a hit with her name, but he didn’t get far. He wanted to avoid pushing too hard on the government site’s security right now, so that search got tabled for the moment.

There were no signs of Annie on any of the social media sites, but that wasn’t unusual given her age group and her determination to “go underground” a few years ago. There were no signs of her on any state or county welfare rolls in the western states – they could search the other states later if they needed to.

There were no obituaries, news stories, or death certificates reported for Annie.

One thing that the family didn’t quite have correct was Annie’s record with the law. A search of the public arrest record databases for the United States and Canada showed that she had been cited at least a half-dozen times, mostly for minor infractions such as vagrancy or hitchhiking. All of the citations were either settled with a small fine or dismissed outright.

It didn’t look like she had ever actually spent any time in jail except for one night, but that night was less than two years ago. It was by far the most recent kernel of information Tom had found so far. The details were sketchy, but it involved a commune which was being evicted after squatting on someone else’s land for years. The property owner now wanted to do something else with it. A group of a dozen commune residents had resisted and gotten arrested for trespassing. After one night in jail in Manitou Springs, Colorado, they had been fined, released, and told to never set foot on the property again.

Just before noon, Tom called Jason to share what he had found out and to see what he might have discovered about the video they had. After three rings, just before Tom expected the call to go to voice mail, Jason answered.

“Jason, this is Tom.”

“Tom?” Jason asked, sounding confused.

“Yes, Tom,” he said, wondering what was going on now. “Tom Tiernan? I was supposed to call you at noon today?”

“Oh, right, you’re Betty’s friend, calling about the motorcycle I’ve got for sale, right?”

Tom had been a research scientist and a reporter, not a spy, but he knew when he was having a hint forced down his throat. He didn’t know why Jason was carrying on like this, but now was not the time to question it. He was just going to have to trust Jason for the moment and assume that this call was not secure and something bad was happening.

“Yeah, your bike,” Tom stalled. “I’m glad that Betty told you that I would be calling. What can you tell me about it? Is it safe to ride?”

“I wouldn’t say that a bike is ever completely safe, but I’ve never had any problems with it. I think you’ll be okay as long as you’re really careful and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. This motorcycle of yours, is it real? I’m a real stickler about having only factory installed and original gear. I would hate to be wasting time if there have been a lot of modifications done.”

“I guarantee that it’s 100% original, with no modifications. If you’ve got time, I would like to show it to you as soon as I can. Are you free to meet me someplace this afternoon?”

“Sure, where would you suggest?”

“I think it would be best to get together someplace where we’ll have some open space for you to ride around. Do you know where the LA Zoo is in Griffith Park, and the Autrey Museum there?”

“Sure, I haven’t been there in years since the kids are all grown, but I know where it’s at. Any particular time and spot in the parking lot you want to meet?”

“How about at 1:30 sort of out in front of the Autrey? I’ll be the guy with the green Kawasaki motorcycle.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there, 1:30 by the Autrey. I’ll be the old guy in the blue BMW convertible.”

“Great. And again, your name was Tom?”

“Yeah, it’s Tom. I’m really looking forward to hearing what you might have to tell me about this bike of yours.”

==========================================

Tom had picked up a chicken wrap and a drink on the way over. He was still eating his lunch when a tall, stocky man rode up on a green Kawasaki Ninja 650. His face and head were concealed under his helmet. He was wearing a heavy leather motorcycle jacket, jeans, along with heavy boots and gloves.

As he parked next to Tom’s car, Tom got out. Jason left the engine idling but pulled off his helmet and gloves. Putting the gloves into the helmet and tucking it under his left arm, he held out his hand. Tom shook it and found something being pressed into his palm.

“Tom, I’m glad that you could meet me, I’m Jason. Thanks for coming out here. Let me show you the engine on this baby.” Still straddling the bike, he leaned down next to the frame and started revving the engine. Tom ignored the noise and leaned down with his head near Jason’s.

“I’m pretty sure the noise of the engine will keep anyone from snooping,” Jason said, just barely audible above the engine noise, “but we need to be quick. What you said about paranoia was correct. Something we said or did yesterday triggered an alert and we are probably both being watched and monitored, at least remotely. We need to let the cop bots see us being normal and boring and then they’ll downgrade and file it, but in the meantime, be very cautious.”

“What did you give me when we shook hands?” Tom asked.

“It’s a tiny memory stick with some goodies. Install it on your home system and follow all of the instructions. Your home system is good, but this one’s a lot better. Once you get it installed, then we can talk safely. And before you ask – don’t ask.”

“Jason, you’re asking a lot given that we’re total strangers.”

“I know, and so are you. I’m sure you understood that the video is real, not something that was tampered with or created. I’ll fill you in later on how I know what I know, but right now we’ve got to ratchet up the security level. Install that software as soon as you get home. Did you find anything?”

“Will do, I’ll install it. I think I’ve got at least a halfway decent clue, but it’s going to take me to Colorado. I can tell you about it later when we’re secure.”

“Right. Now for the big question, especially if we are being watched. Can you ride a motorcycle? You need to take a test drive on this thing.”

“It’s been a while,” Tom answered, “but I used to ride so I can probably get around the parking lot without killing myself.”

“Okay, it’s show time. Assume someone or something is listening unless we’re on a connection that I tell you is secure.”

With that, Jason let the engine go back to idle and put down the kickstand. He stepped off of the bike and Tom stepped on, accepting the offer of the helmet even though it was just for a quick spin around the parking lot. Jason walked him through the gearing, instruments, and controls. Finally it was time to put up or shut up.

Tom was very pleased to see that he was able to make it around the parking lot twice without killing himself or hitting anything.

Tom and Jason went through the show of discussing the sale price, after which Tom expressed some doubts about whether or not the bike was right for him. Tom made sure that he gave Jason the contact information that Jason shouldn’t know about yet, and they agreed to talk later in the day.

Jason roared off onto the freeway on his motorcycle, while Tom tried to keep his attention focused on driving and his thoughts from showing up on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was to get into an accident or run a red light now because of the distraction caused by Jason’s news.

Once he got home, Tom followed Jason’s instructions and inserted the memory stick into his residential system. He followed the onscreen instructions and attached his phone, laptop, pad, and all other mobile devices as requested. The system even told him that the connection to his car and the software onboard the BMW had been updated, all without even bothering to ask for his password or permission.

As the system announced that it was finished, Tom’s phone automatically dialed Jason. Jason answered on the first ring.

“Thanks, Tom,” Jason said. “This is a secure connection. Just make sure that when we talk you don’t have any doors or windows open so that you can’t be heard from outside.”

“What’s this software, Jason?”

“It’s some top of the line military security stuff. I can’t tell you anything more than that or where it comes from, but it will make anyone listening in on the line hear something completely boring and blasé. Anyone tapping into your home video will see you doing boring, routine shit.”

“I hope that you’ll tell me more someday when you think I’m worthy. Why do you think that we need it?”

“After I talked to you last night, as I was leaving to go home, I got called in by a supervisor to go over my incident logs for the day. He asked about a number of them, including yours. That’s a random security procedure here and it has happened to me before, but I don’t believe in coincidences. When I got home I checked my system and found that there had been repeated attempts to hack into the system, starting soon after I first called you and then called the paramedics. My system had allowed the cop bot system to believe that it had successfully hacked in. It’s feeding the cop bot regular doses of bullshit. So that’s why I think we need that level of security right now.”

“I understand,” Tom said. “Thank you for taking the steps you did, I appreciate it.”

“No worries. For the moment we have to assume that you were monitored when you were calling and searching for information this morning. Did you do or say anything there that might raise any red flags?”

Tom quickly thought back through his conversations with his family and the questions he had asked. He was suddenly very happy that he had actually bought that family tree software and put data into it as he had talked to his family.

“I didn’t mention anything about yesterday’s events,” Tom said, explaining what he had done with the software and what he had found out about Aunt Annie. “If anyone had tapped into here earlier, they wouldn’t see anything other than someone setting up plans to meet for the holiday. I think we’re good.”

“Fine, so we’re safe enough for now. I’ll monitor systems from here. What do you think your next step is?”

“I need to try to track down Annie. I won’t be able to do much more from here or online, so I need to get to Colorado to follow up in person. I’ll make reservations tonight and try to fly out first thing tomorrow.”

“Good. We’ll need to stay in touch at least once a day. Is it safe to assume that you figured out what I was telling you about my preliminary analysis of the video?”

“I got that, the video is real, or at least it isn’t a fake down to the level of detection we’ve got. Since you seem to have some really excellent security toys, is it safe to assume that you’ve got access to equally excellent video toys?”

“Yes, Tom, it would be safe to assume that. Don’t ask, don’t tell. When we talk while you’re on the road we should be secure if you’re using your phone to call me on my phone, but for anything else make sure that we’re talking about the motorcycle. Got it?”

“I’ve got it, Jason. You’re security and video analysis; I’m off to do some snooping in the field. We’ll keep in touch. And you’ve got a nice bike, congratulations.”

“Thanks. You do know that I’m not really going to sell it to you. Right?”