Sandy pointed to a newish house that looked a lot like the other newish houses in the subdivision, with stucco walls and a red tile roof. Nobody would know from appearances that a spy, or whatever this person was, lived here, and Sandy had said very little while they were walking, except that she was glad she had caught him. They went up the concrete driveway and the concrete steps to the front door. It was unlocked. Sandy opened it and walked inside, motioning Nate to follow her. She closed the door behind them.
She led the way through a couple of rooms with newish furniture into the kitchen. Pleasant cooking odors assailed Nate’s nose. A small woman with gray hair was standing in front of the gas stove and handling cooking tools while bacon and eggs sizzled on the burners.
She turned and said, “You must be Nate. I’m Buzz. I assume that you’re hungry. You can clean yourself up in the bathroom just around the corner.”
Nate followed her orders, went into the bathroom and “cleaned himself up.” He looked in the mirror and saw a sleep-deprived male with uncombed hair who needed a shave. What was he doing here? The trip down curvy Route 243 to the desert had scared Sandy because he had expected the chase car to appear behind him at any moment and had kept the pedal to the metal. Skidding around steep downhill curves was not what he and his car were made for. He was hungry and tired. Perhaps he was ready for this adventure to end.
He came out of the bathroom and saw Sandy and Buzz talking in an animated fashion while Buzz cooked. They must know each other well. Buzz was obviously concerned about Sandy’s wellbeing, asking for details about what had happened to her. That was good as far as Nate was concerned. Buzz could take care of her now. He wondered if Buzz was the mother of the spy who lived here. He sat at the kitchen table at her invitation, drank some orange juice, took a roll from a plate, buried it in butter, and wolfed it down in about four bites. At least, he would get a good meal before he returned to his lonely life.
Buzz served Nate a plate full of the bacon and eggs and said, “Sandy says you saved her life. That is admirable of you.”
Nate hadn’t thought of what he’d done in that way. He kind of stammered, and then managed to say, “I did what anyone would do.”
Sandy said, “He went far beyond that. As soon as I disabled the chip I realized I might have made a horrible mistake. And by the time we left in Nate’s car they already had a car following us. He was finally able to lose it. We haven’t given away where you live.”
Buzz didn’t ask who “they” were. She seemed to know. She sat at the table herself before she said anything more. When she spoke to Sandy, her voice was softer. “How did you escape their control?”
“I couldn’t have done it without the classes on artificial intelligence and robotics you advised me to take. After they captured me, they placed a chip in my hand. It’s still there.” She turned to Nate. “I was living here in the desert and taking classes at the community college.”
Sandy showed them the palm of her hand. There was a small bulge in it, covered by a scar. Nate realized that this was the palm she had used to unlock the door of her house. It must have signaled to a device that had been placed in the wall, and operated the lock on the door.
Sandy cleared her throat and continued. “They had control of my mind. They were feeding my brain information as if I were a robot. Whatever they wanted me to know and do. The constant feed shut off my brain from thinking for itself. My job was to seduce Nate, and get him robotized, so they could control him and have him censor the news dispatches he sent out.”
Buzz looked at Nate with a smile and said, “I gather that you escaped being robotized.”
“Thanks to Sandy. What I don’t understand is, why wasn’t I kidnapped instead of Sandy.”
Buzz said, “Sandy told me what you do. You’re too high profile; you getting kidnapped would have created a firestorm of speculation because of your job. And when you were ‘rescued’ and returned to work all eyes would have followed what you were doing. I’m sure they had a plan for you to start altering news stories slowly, under Sandy’s spell, so your actions wouldn’t be noticed, at least at first. And you wouldn’t remember the times when you were being told what to do.
Sandy said, “Why did they pick me? Because I’m low profile?”
Buzz smiled and took a sip of coffee. “I suspect they selected you because you know some of the basics of artificial intelligence, and were easy to train. But they didn’t figure on your personal knowledge and “real” intelligence. You were able to understand what was going on in your lucid moments, and then stop it altogether.”
Nate was thinking about being seduced by Sandy. He said, “I suspect they also took into consideration the fact that you’re beautiful.”
Buzz smiled. “I should have thrown that in too. Sandy, can you tell us in more detail how you escaped their control?”
“I couldn’t have done it without the robotics class you also advised me to take. Their system isn’t perfect. There were a few minutes several times a day when the feed of artificial intelligence telling me what to do stopped and I was myself again. During these time periods I realized what was happening to me. The breaks when I could think for myself were short, and it took me several days to figure out how to permanently shut the chip down. I learned how to create code that sent a message to it, telling it essentially to commit suicide, when I was in the class. I had it execute the command last night. Then I panicked, because, of course, my handlers knew when it happened, immediately, so I came to you, Nate. I didn’t know where else to go.”
She gave Nate a hug, which surprised him. Since he had helped Sandy escape, he felt he was entitled to a question. “Who is this ‘they’ that you talk about?”
Buzz looked grim. “It’s sometimes called the Deep State. Organizations within the federal government.”
Nate was dubious. “Since I’m in the news business, I see all the stories. I’m aware of the claims that President Kennedy was assassinated by certain government organizations with three initials, but everybody has a conspiracy theory these days.”
Buzz said, “I used to work for one of those organizations. Believe me, they’re as bad as some people say they are.”
“Since you’re onto them, why don’t they assassinate you?”
“I walk a fine line. I’m connected with an informal and nongovernmental organization that is attempting to expose the bad apples in government. Of course, the apples, themselves, have to keep a low profile. The government has to have the support of the people in order to remain in power.” She smiled. “My turn may be coming. But then, news organizations like the one Nate works for could blow an assassination up into a really big fiasco for the government. Especially if it looked like some of the assassinations that have occurred in Russia under Putin.”
Nate said, “I’ve never had a call from a federal agency suggesting what should be included or not included in a story, but I’ve heard that other people are..”
Buzz said, “Social media executives are getting these calls, couched as suggestions. But they’ve gone along with some of them. However, the suggesters may not always be polite.”
“You’re saying that the first amendment is being bent.”
“Ira Glasser, who was executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union, said, ‘The only important question about a speech restriction is not who is being restricted but who gets to decide who is being restricted.’”
Nate said, “I have one more question.” He looked at Sandy. “How did you get captured?”
Sandy lowered her eyes and looked embarrassed. Nate wasn’t sure she was going to answer the question. Buzz was looking at her too.
She finally said, “I guess you could say I got kidnapped. There was a guy named Ed who was taking the class on artificial intelligence. I was chatting with Ed after class one night, and he asked me if I wanted to have a drink with him. He seemed nice enough, and I had walked to the college from my apartment, so I let him drive me to a bar. Somebody must have spiked my drink, because the next thing I remember is being in the house close to where Nate lives, and receiving orders through the chip embe dded in my hand. There was food in the house and enough money that I could buy what I needed. The first thing I bought were some clothes.”
Buzz said, “You poor thing. Have you seen any of your handlers?”
Sandy shook her head. “They put the chip in when I was unconscious. And I haven’t seen Ed again. He might be one of them. But I don’t want to be known as the crazy girl who thinks she was abducted by aliens. Although I guess the police could at least find out who rented the house.””
Buzz said, “I’ll have a chat with your professor. He may be able to give me some more information on who this Ed is. People I know may do some other checking, but your name won’t be mentioned.”
Nate said, “Your most important evidence is your chip.”
Sandy glanced at the palm of her hand. “It’s tingling. Something is going on.”
“May I?” Sandy held her hand out and Buzz felt her palm. “You’re right. Your hand is warm and red. I think the chip has been given a signal to self-destruct. By the time a doctor removes it, it will be just a blob of material with no intelligence.”
Sandy said, “Do you think we’re safe? Or are they coming after us?”
Buzz thought about that. “They’ve destroyed the evidence. From my long experience at this sort of thing, I believe they’re going to cut their losses and move on to something else. However, when you went to get Nate I made a call. Some of our people will be watching your apartment to make sure they don’t try anything. We are never safe from bad government. We must be forever vigilant.”
There was silence for thirty seconds. Then Nate spoke to Sandy. “Is it all right if I publish your story without using your name? Even though we can’t prove anything, it’s important to let people know what their government is up to. Half the country will believe it, half will think we’re crazy, and half will think we’re being invaded by aliens. But it will make a damn good article, and, hopefully, slow this sort of thing down a little.”
Buzz smiled. “And half will think you flunked arithmetic. You’ve already earned your gold star, Nate, but you’ve got to get some sleep before you drive back to LA. You can…”
“Take me to my apartment,” Sandy interrupted. “It’s only a few miles from here. You can sack out there. And I can tell my roommates I’m not dead. They’ll love you.”
Was Sandy including herself in “They?” Nate was eager to find out.
