DataMagic

The car ride was bumpy across a dirt road, remote in the desert far from any major freeways or metropolitan areas. The SUV they drove in was comfortable, spacious and chilled by a strong blast from the AC vents. The concierge from the company who was hosting him had a freezer bag with bottles of chilled water, soda or beer depending on your preference. A snack box was set across from him in the opposite seat with the best in fresh baked goods, ripe fruits, beef jerky and expensive chocolates. There was something for any one of his cravings. They were really going all out to try to put on a good show for him. I guess a little bad press could do that for a company.

Bill Jenkins was a young, up and coming journalist from the National NewsMaker visiting the technological headquarters of one of the largest and most popular tech companies in the world, Data Magic. The company was under huge amounts of pressure and scrutiny for accusations that they were stealing customers' information, selling it across various places on the internet and that their products invaded the privacy of their users. It had become a full blown investigation. As an act of transparency and goodwill the company had invited Bill to their headquarters to allow him to tell a story. 

The SUV pulled to a stop in front of the massive technological headquarters. The driveway was a pristine roundabout with a gigantic fountain in the middle and the towering campus loomed as the only building within sight for miles. A fussy looking man in a black suit and tie came out of the front door carrying an elaborately wrapped gift bag with the company’s name on it in bright blue letters: “DATA MAGIC”.

“Good afternoon Mr. Jenkins. Welcome to our humblest of humble headquarters. We are so thrilled you could join us today for a review of our home and our latest developments,” said the fussy, little man in an English accent as sweat crossed his brow from the heat. “Please accept this complimentary gift bag as our thank you for coming to see us today.”

“Um…thank you, Mr. uhhh…”

“Hotchkins sir,” replied the little man. “I’ll be your on-site concierge for any and all of your needs. Once we’re inside I’ll procure you some cool refreshments and a damp cloth to relieve yourself of this dreadful heat.”

They even have a British little butler man. What doesn’t this place have? 

“Thank you very much,” replied Bill. “That’s very kind of you.” 

They entered the building as Hotchkins swiped his security badge, scanned his thumbprint and then entered a 6 digit pin in the keypad. Three layers of exterior building access and what appeared to be bulletproof glass on all the windows. This place did not want anyone in that was not invited.

“Aren’t there any other businesses around here? Or some houses or apartment buildings for the employees?” asked Bill, blown away by the solitude of it all.

“Oh no Mr. Jenkins. All our employees live on site in company provided housing. Our campus has a comprehensive availability of entertainment and shopping needs for them and their families, if they should have any, though most do not,” he replied.

“So nobody goes anywhere then?”

“There’s no need to sir,” he replied with a nod and polite smile. “I think you’ll find our foyer quite comfortable. There’s a television where you can turn on any channel you wish and you have your choice of seating. Would you prefer some water? Or perhaps a light beer? Or I can draft you a lovely lager?” Hotchkins handed him a menu of various alcohols that he could choose from and indicated to a long row of recliners in the foyer with plush looking couches alongside them.

“Just a Coke thanks,” said Bill, pushing the menu back into Hotchkins hand. Hotchkins nodded and Bill headed for the nearest couch.

He opened the gift bag and he found it was stuffed to the brim with branded Data Magic tech. There was the latest model of their smartphone, a tablet, a laptop and some VR goggles. This was easily $5000 worth of tech that they were just giving away.

Hotchkins came back with a six pack of Coke, a cup and a bucket of ice because bringing just one can of Coke would have been far too simple.

“Your refreshment sir.”

“Damn. Why’d you get all this?”

“Is it insufficient? Do you require more? Perhaps you’d like some pastries or a bowl of fruit brought as well?” Hotchkins said with concern.

“No, no, no, no. Thank you but no. You’ve done enough. When will I be meeting with Mr. Bridges?” He looked around the massive building and nobody was to be seen on the ground floor in the immediate area. There were various doors and elevators but nobody in sight.

“Mr. Bridges is presently occupied with product testing sir but he will come and speak with you and show you what you’re meant to see shortly,” replied Hotchkins. “If you require anything else the loo is to your immediate left and I will be in the concierge room across the hall. Simply knock at the door and I will provide whatever you require.”

“Thank you…..About how long do you expect it will be?” he asked with some exasperation.

“Any minute now sir. Creativity at work you know?” With a smile and a twinkle he turned on his heel and returned to the concierge room.

He sat down and began to open one of his Cokes. He turned the TV onto the national sports talk channel for some background noise and turned his attention to the gadgets he’d been given. He powered on the computer and began to go through the default settings and features. The RAM, memory and processing capabilities were all state of the art. The best on the market, and this wasn’t even released yet, he didn’t think. This must be the prototype for the new model set to release in the fall. He found that the device was already connected to the public wi-fi for the building. How thoughtful and convenient. He also noticed a secure private network. He’d spent his youth as a nerd diving through all systems and platforms and wreaking havoc wherever he could. He’d been banned from multiple servers and online gaming communities for hacking. He got a thrill out of finding backdoors nobody else could and getting information he wasn’t supposed to have. He’d left the computer world behind and only worked on them as a hobby as an adult, choosing the more prosaic field of investigative journalism hoping to make a difference with the truth.

After some careful and meticulous hacking into the network, Bill found his way into their secure server and found a backdoor into their secure files. There were financial statements, projections and meeting notes. Quarterly goals, internal memos and then he found it. The gold mine he’d been searching for. A folder marked, “TRIAL TESTING: SENSITIVE.” 

He opened it and found a series of videos. There were people in lab coats and other people working on computers and what appeared to be test subjects in trial rooms. He clicked on the first video.

“Are we on—are we on?” he heard a familiar voice offscreen. Walton Bridges, CEO of DataMagic, stepped in front of the camera and sat down on a stool. “Here at DataMagic we sell goods. It's true. Technology. We sell items that people take into their homes and use for their homework, their social accounts, they use it to watch cat videos and to share pictures of their dinner, their babies or whatever other inane nonsense is going on in their lives. The items we sell are highly profitable and valuable.  We’ll continue to sell them. But,” he rose from his chair and began to walk through the lab and pointed to a diagram on the wall of the human brain. “What we’re really selling is information and the power of suggestion. Suggestions that lead people to make their decisions day to day. Which car should I buy? What movie should I watch? Where should I eat? What should I wear? Who do I vote for? All the way down to which cat video do I watch?”

This sounded, so far, exactly what they were being accused of. Selling and spreading private information. He knew that something was going on here.

“Now this may sound like targeted ads to you. It may just sound like salesmanship 101 through ad campaigns. We have refined the process of targeting our audience not just through targeted ads but through repeated exposure of our targeted influence program embedded in the cameras of each of our devices as well as in the background of our screens. We have identified the exact light, image and sometimes audio triggers necessary to trigger the Prefrontal Cortex to make a decision. With this new power we can run an ad for a product, a company, a candidate and trigger in the background of the image of the screen a sort of hypnotic effect that can immediately impact the viewers decision making. This technology will revolutionize the dissemination of information and the power to correct humanity onto the right path.”

 He moved on to images of grotesque pain, mass graves starving children, a couple arguing, children crying and a frightened dog playing in a reel. 

“What is the greatest danger to mankind? The source of our problems and pitfalls? Free will. The ability to make the choice to hurt someone else, to hurt yourself and hurt animals around you or the environment is what’s killing us. With this new breakthrough we can end all that,” continued Mr. Bridges.

GOOD GOD. What in the hell? What in the actual hell was he watching? WHAT IS THIS? thought Bill. They weren’t just trying to sell private information. They were trying to control humanity right down to your free will.  He pressed play again.

“As these televisions, computers, phones, tablets and gaming systems enter the homes of the world around us, we take one step closer to the world we deserve. The world where everyone does the right thing and equality is established amongst all people. This breakthrough technology has already been tested on volunteer subjects and been found to be highly successful,” concluded Mr. Bridges. 

The video cut to test subjects who were asked a series of personal questions prior to watching the new screen technology. Then after a few minutes of basic programming while they waited for the results they were exposed to the complete opposite of their original answers. When the test administrators returned they asked the same questions again as though the test had not yet been administered. The opposite responses were recorded. 

Suddenly it occurred to him that he had been watching this screen all along and he didn’t know what he might be exposed to. He immediately closed the laptop only to realize the television was playing sports highlights from the previous day and that couldn’t be trusted so he immediately shut it off. He got up from the couch and immediately began heading toward the exit with his new bag in tow with all the evidence he’d just watched. He began to head for the exit when he remembered that he was behind a locked door with three layers of security and he was in the middle of the desert with nobody else around who wasn’t already drinking the Kool-Aid probably.

He tugged on the front door just to be sure. Nothing. It didn’t move. He began walking up and down the long hallway until one door finally opened for him.

“Bill,” he heard from across the room. “We’ve been waiting for you.” 

The lights came on and he saw Walton Bridges sitting across from him at the end of a long table with half a dozen men in suits lining the walls in front of him.

“Good afternoon Mr. Bridges,” said Bill with as much contempt as he could knowing the position he was in.

“Have you been enjoying your gift bag Bill?” said Bridges. He put a cigar up to his mouth and lit it slowly, puffing out the gray smoke cloud. “Care for one?” He asked, offering a cigar.

“Your gift bag has the finest and most impressive technological devices I’ve seen. Thank you for sharing them with me,” responded Bill.

“Now Bill, don’t be coy. We know what you found in that laptop on the server that was just a little too easy to get into?” he winked at Bill with the wry smile of someone waiting for you to confess. “They say you gotta know your enemy Bill. Do you really think I wouldn’t know about your little dalliance into hacking as a teenager and young adult? That’s why you’re here Bill. I wanted you to find it.”

“Are we enemies Mr. Bridges?” he questioned as he felt the sweat build in his armpits and on his forehead. “What made you want me to find this instead of someone else?”

“I needed someone who could find it organically and not have to be told or shown. Call it another test trial. I needed to see how you would react to finding out about our little science project so I could test your reaction after you’ve been one of our guinea pigs. The results would be skewed if I had to show it to you Bill,” he said as he continued to puff on his cigar.

 Walton Bridges was famous for being the Texas Good Old Boy of technology. He wasn’t the refined city gentlemen some imagined he ought to be, which is probably why he went so far as to have an English butler for his foyer.

“I have no intention of being one of your guinea pigs or allowing you to pursue this sick endeavor any further,” retorted Bill, firing up. He knew he was cornered. He knew there was no way out. But he wasn’t going to give it up voluntarily.

“Oh Bill,” Bridges said with a tsk tsk. “I imagine it ain’t got nothing to do with what you intend or will allow.”

The six armed men in the room approached him but he took a swing at the first and clocked him in the head. The second got one to the face as well but as they overpowered him he was lifted off the ground slightly and held in a sleeper hold. Bridges approached slowly, still puffing. He took one long drag and blew it into Bill’s face. Then, apparently finished with his cigar, he put it out on Bill’s shirt.

“AAAAHHH!!! You bastard! You bastard!” He cried out until they clapped their hands over his mouth.

“Now Bill, what do you say we watch some quality programming?  It’s good for the kiddies and the whole family. Pretty soon it’ll be playing in every house across America, then the world,” said Bridges with relish.

He tried to keep his eyes shut but they pried them open and put tape over his eyelids to keep them open. After a few minutes of the screen he felt his muscles relax and he was no longer worried about whatever it was he was worried about.

The next day he left the campus with his gift bag in tow, a new shirt and a strange bandage on his chest. His notepad was full of wonderful information about the revolutionary and extraordinary work of DataMagic to further equality and justice in the world. His driver dropped him at the airport and he called his editor. 

“Yeah boss, DataMagic is an amazing company doing incredible work for humanity. There’s absolutely nothing to be worried about. Reports of their wrong-doing are greatly exaggerated. It’ll all become so much clearer to you next month when they release their new product line,” he said with complete confidence on his top of the line prototype DataMagic phone. 

A special video had been given to him as evidence to share with the world of DataMagic’s innocence and goodwill. The world was on the path to equity, justice and control just as it should be, with DataMagic to guide it.