In Constant Contact

go.

  "Ideas? Suggestions? Wild-ass guesses?" Kandhi was demanding. Fred kept his mouth sealed tight and shook his head. After a few tense moments, it was Wen who spoke up.

  "It could have been something they said," she offered, as if this weren't already obvious.

  "Then let's go over the transcripts," Kandhi declared. "Even better, let's get all of the imaginary so-called friends on the line and go over it together, like a team," she added, bitterly. It was getting a bit late in Norway, but Kandhi didn't care. Bilj was wide awake in any event, and greeted the gathering cheerfully.

  "I don't know where he's got to," he replied to Kandhi's question. "We talked a little bit and then he signed himself out. Since then I haven't heard a word. It must have been four or five hours ago."

  "Four hours and forty-seven minutes," Wen informed the group. Turning to Stan, she added, "Three hours, sixteen minutes for you, and Velicia, two hours and ten."

  "This cannot be happening, you do understand?" Kandhi told the faces assembled on the wall.

  "What can we do about it?" Bilj shrugged. "We are only to be here when needed. When we aren't needed, well, we're still here."

  "That's how I see it," Stanley agreed. "When the buzzer goes off, I see what he says. I say something back. It's routine."

  "According to the guidelines," Velicia put in, "we basically speak when we're spoken to."

  "And what did you say?" Kandhi wanted to know. "Each of you must have said something. It's entirely too coincidental that all of your contacts have apparently discarded their wristbands, in complete and utter violation of the terms of our agreement."

  Each of the friends held up their arms to demonstrate that they, at least, had violated nothing, as far as they knew. Kandhi was already shuffling through the transcripts.

  "I've emailed each of you the records of today's conversations. Please take a moment to review. There isn't much to see. None of them went on very long."

  "Five minutes four seconds was the most," Wen put in, then fell silent beneath Kandhi's glare. Fred pretended to be reading his copies. He already knew very well what was said.

  "Oh, this is good," Kandhi sneered. "Mr. Bjurnjurd, why did you feel the need to inform Mr. Claunney that he is in fact a homosexual?"

  "I did?" Bilj looked puzzled, as Stanley burst into snickers and Velicia's eyebrows shot up. "I remember we talked about that," he continued, as he studied his record, "but as I recall, he was the one who brought up the matter, not me."

  "And yet," Kandhi pointed at the transcript. "It says so right here. And I quote: So she doesn't even mind that you're gay!"

  "I see that," Bilj nodded, "but I certainly don't remember saying it."

  Fred was holding his breath so hard he nearly turned blue. "This is it," he said to himself, "the moment of truth."

  "I do remember thinking it, though," Bilj sighed. "I guess I must have said it out loud."

  Fred exhaled with such force that even Kandhi noticed and gave him a look. He pretended to cough a little bit to cover his tracks.

  "Maybe I did," Kandhi mimicked his tone, "you bet that you did. It says so right here."

  "It didn't seem to bother him," Bilj replied. "He said he was going to think about it. See? Here? That's where it ends. He was going to think about it. That's the last thing I heard."

  "Guidelines?" Kandhi clapped her hands over her eyes. "Might be a little bit personal don't you think?" she mumbled.

  "I guess," Bilj Bjurnjurd looked sheepish. "I guess I might have messed up," he continued.

  "So what did I say that was wrong?" Stanley interrupted. "I don't see anything here."

  "Neither do I," Kandhi admitted. "But it must have been something."

  "There's nothing," Stanley insisted. "All I said was a bunch of encouragement. Go for it. Do what you want. I was being a sport, supportive, I mean. Like you said, like the guidelines. You got nothing on me."

  "Me too," Velicia broke in. "She was talking her usual line about all the sick people she sees in the hospital and how come they suffer and all. So then look, like it says in the transcript, it's their bodies that are going through hell, but their souls are destined for heaven. What's wrong with that? It's the first time we ever connected, to tell you the truth."

  "I don't know," Kandhi shrugged. "I have to admit, I had no idea. I was hoping one of you would come up with something."

  There was silence all around. Finally, Kandhi let them all go, and turned to face her employees. Fred was still keeping his vigil, and Wen was maintaining a serious, if unhelpful, look on her face. Kandhi felt she was beginning to go into shock, She recognized all the symptoms - irregular heartbeat, shallow breathing, inability to think clearly, even now beginning to rock uncontrollably on her seat. Bad things were going to happen, she knew. Bad things were already happening. This became crystal clear when a perfunctory knock on her office door was followed by the entrance of the dreaded security chief, Ginger MacAvoy.

  - - - - - - - - -

  "Well, well, well, the three musketeers," Ginger snapped, stepping into the room. She was not a tall woman but was a terrifying one none the less. Her unnaturally bright orange face was spotted with over-large freckles, and her glazed over-sized aviator glasses added to the impression of a monstrous peregrine falcon. Her shock of red hair only added to her imposing visage. Ginger was not someone you wanted to face under any circumstances, especially not bad ones. Kandhi shrank back in her seat as Ginger approached. Fred began to tremble. Only Wen was able to keep her composure. She always found Ginger a fascinating subject and was glad of any opportunity to observe her in action.

  "We've just received some interesting information," Ginger pronounced each syllable slowly, as if she were speaking to infants. "It seems that some of our exceedingly precious artifacts have been finding their way into various local police stations. Fortunately, these priceless devices have our contact information embedded upon them. Otherwise, they might well have fallen into the wrong hands entirely. Of course," she continued after a pause, and glaring at each person in turn, "seeing as they had already passed through the hands in this very room, one might very well say they had ALREADY fallen into the wrong ones!"

  She then let a silence fill up the room like a poisonous gas while she studied their faces intently. Ginger began to pace back and forth across the wide open space of the room.

  "How did you ever get such an office?" she muttered to no one in particular. "Top floor, corner window, ample room ..."

  Turning back to face Kandhi she yelled,

  "For a NOTHING LIKE YOU?"

  Kandhi nearly peed in her sweatpants. This was not going well, not at all. She ventured to speak up, however. Even a condemned prisoner gets to say some last words.

  "Where, exactly?"

  "Exactly?" Ginger retorted, "Well, let us see. I admit I don't have the precise latitude or longitude with me at the moment, but I can tell you this. Of the two devices we presently know of, one has ventured from a police station in Paducah, Kentucky to a mental hospital in Louisville, while the other has voyaged from a hospital in Pasadena to a police station in Pomona, California. Oddly symmetrical, don't you think?"

  "Only two?" Kandhi spoke up, instantly regretting her choice of words.

  "Oh, so more have been lost?" Ginger demanded.

  "Well, there's one other one we're not certain about."

  "That would be batting a hundred!" Ginger exclaimed. "Well, at least you don't do things halfway. Half-assed, yes, for sure, but at least not halfway!"

  "Can we ask?" Wen began but Ginger cut her off.

  "Oh yes, you can ask," Ginger snarled. "Where to begin? Where to begin?" She began pacing the room again, this time with her hands behind her back.

  "Let's see. Which crime spree of the two was the more spectacular? The several home invasions? No, too pedestrian, too mundane by far. How about the attempted murders? Yes, that's the one. Who can tell us some more about that? The name is Hannah Lincum, does that sound familiar? A rath
er frequent hospital volunteer, so it seems, who was caught while dismantling the life support systems of several elderly patients? Hmm? Nothing to say?"

  "I had no idea," Kandhi breathed.

  "Letting their souls go to heaven?" Wen reminded her.

  "Oh, is that what we call it now?" Ginger demanded. "Then what is the going terminology for when a young man breaks into a series of houses and claims to be liberating their pets?"

  "Going for it?" Wen mumbled.

  "Nice," Ginger responded as the three of them squirmed. She watched with great satisfaction before finally informing them that she already knew all about it.

  "Of course we have all the transcripts," she told them. "You don't really think that we let you do anything without adult supervision around here? What a nightmare that could be! Just imagine the things that might happen."

  Fred began to sweat seriously in earnest. If they really were tracking proficiently, they would be able to know precisely who had typed in which messages and where. He'd be caught out for sure. He hadn't even considered disguising his IP address. He tried hard to think. Was it really his fault? Just because he'd said certain things? Surely the individuals were responsible for whatever their actions had been. He could not be held accountable. Well, maybe not legally. There remained the simple matter of his livelihood. He'd be ruined. He'd never be able to work in tech again.

  "We know who said what and when," Ginger went on. "Your selection of test subjects has proven to be rather dubious, wouldn't you say? Incompetence