Galactic Energies (2 page)

In the pictures taken on the set, Jasmine is more beautiful than ever. She wears tight astronaut suits that instantly became a vital fashion
must
among her fans. My eyes linger on the lines of her thighs, her beautiful legs and her perfect derriere.

All of a sudden the notifications icon on Facebook starts going nuts. My Galaxy is receiving new messages at a steady rhythm.
What's going on?

I read the first messages:

We're with you!

Those blockheads don't understand anything, don't give up!

On the street, police sirens are coming closer.

The doorbell rings.

Alessio, his face as white as a sheet, gets up to answer.

“Police. Open up!”

The world seems to crumble around us. We look at one another, frozen by fear. Neither of us has ever had any problems with the law. We spent our adolescence playing on the computer and our few adult years working. There's no way they're coming here over a few torrent files we downloaded illegally!

I look out the window: six cars with their sirens on have stopped in front of our door.

Without realizing what I'm doing, I hit the tab for Google News. The headline is: new Sabauda Bank payment system has gone haywire. Tens of millions of Euro in damages. CEO Roberto de Medici blames the supplier.

This can't be happening!

The scam – January 3, 2015

The new payment systems Starweb sold to major European banks work perfectly. The only defective systems were the ones used by Sabauda Bank. Starweb engineers spend weeks doing everything they can to help investigators.

The technicians from Sabauda Bank are interrogated over and over. Their phones are tapped. Some of them are taken into precautionary custody and blocked from communicating with their colleagues, managers and family members.

Things get worse and even more stressful: nobody was prepared for such a thorough investigation. The TV news show images of people being brought before the investigators: their faces are tired, pallid and drawn.

In the meantime, our technicians have already discovered inconsistencies between the code we provided Sabauda Bank and the one implemented in the payment systems.

The bank's technicians spill the beans and all that needs to be figured out now is who ordered the modifications.

We finally find out that the bigwigs at the bank requested a few extra lines of code be inserted so that they could record the user's personal data.

Modifications of the source code constitute a breach of contract between Sabauda Bank and Starweb.

When all is said and done, the media descend like vultures upon the bank's cadaver. The damage to their image is colossal. Bank employees at all levels of authority are fired. A historic institution that's been in business for almost two centuries is destroyed in just a few weeks.

On the other hand, our image comes out even better than before. People see us as the millionth victim of a huge banking institution's abuse of power. The blogosphere treats us like we're heroes.

I'm entirely surprised by what just happened, but also elated: “We can't really complain about how it all worked out. We're free to sell our system to anyone in Italy. And now everyone will buy it! When it was exclusive to Sabauda Bank everyone wanted it. Now they'll have it. In three weeks we'll have over ninety percent of the market for payment systems,” I explain to Alessio.

It feels like a dream!

“Unless...” Alessio is pensive. He looks out the office window. Light flurries are falling. A few degrees lower and Milan will wake up with white streets.

We're still in our old office at Lampugnano. We already have branches located in almost every European country, in North America, Korea, Japan and China. The central headquarters were transferred to a fancy Milanese skyscraper. But Alessio and I prefer to work holed up in the two rooms where everything started. We still have the same office chairs, desks and cheap cabinets. I never even really liked them. Only the computers are latest generation and scrupulously maintained.

“Unless what?” I ask him.

“Unless we decide to replace the banks!” he says, smiling how he always does when he's sure he's got a genius idea.

I look at him, perplexed. He continues: “Who believes in banks any more? First the whole mess with the Parmalat scandal, then the derivatives, the 2008 crisis and so on. People don't trust these scumbags in suits and ties anymore. If they could, they'd happily get rid of them. We can present ourselves as something different and innovative, only online. People can transfer their money through electronic wires from their old accounts to Starweb. We'll set up ATMs around the cities for automatic deposits of what little cash remains in circulation. We'll publicize the fact that we're keeping the money without investing it in risky financial operations. What people give us we'll give back as loans, and we'll pay interest with the difference. And most importantly, we'll publish everything – everything that we take in and all investments – online, using the most transparent data possible, something even a kid could understand.”

I've always liked Alessio because he's a dreamer like me. And when he's convinced of something, his enthusiasm is both unstoppable and contagious.

Back when we were kids, whenever we found something really beyond our reach, we immediately made it our objective.

I remember one afternoon when we were in the mountains, we got the idea to climb up a gigantic boulder thirty feet high. Without any equipment, we put our imaginations to work. It took us several hours to get to the top. Once we got up there, we were so thrilled you would have thought we had landed on an alien planet. Unfortunately, we had forgotten to think about how to get down. We were alone in an isolated spot: nobody was around to give us a hand.

We made it back home, all black and blue, as the sun was setting. I'll never forget how my mother and his grandma yelled at us: both were more angry than relieved to finally see us alive.

“Technically it's not impossible,” I tell Alessio. “Financially, it's so-so. Politically...they'll shoot us on sight! Here in Italy, when you have an idea that's going to weaken the powers that be, something strange immediately happens to you. It's no secret! The power belongs to the banks. The political parties and the big companies that own the banking institutions control the flow of capital, the economy and the lives of citizens. If we mess around on their territory, we'll be dead before we even get started.”

When he has an idea, however, Alessio doesn't give up easily. “Let's do it without them noticing. We'll set up the systems and the technology and sign the necessary agreements. We'll do it as if, even if word gets out, it'll look like it's no big deal. We'll keep a really low profile. Then, when everything is ready, we'll launch it on the internet. We'll put up websites all at once. We'll start with a massive campaign on Google, social networks and YouTube. We'll try to make it as viral as possible. No advertising in magazines, newspapers or TV. We'll work it so that our advertising is entirely done by people themselves. Word of mouth among millions of people should do the trick.”

“Alessio, this time we're sticking our tongues out at the big boys, you know that, right?” I say, still doubtful.

He smiles, since he knows me too well. He knows I'm already in.

“They'll do everything they can to trip us up,” I continue. “In the end, we'll probably risk an important market, like the Italian market. Ok, let's do it!”

Sorgente Bank – June 16, 2015

Office of Stefano Pellini, CEO of Sorgente Bank.

Micro-camera placed on the file cabinet facing the desk.

Giorgio Bertuzzi, Managing Director of Sorgente Bank, seen from behind: “We're losing millions.”

Stefano Pellini, CEO of Sorgente Bank: “Give me the data, Giorgio!” in a dry and annoyed tone.

G.B.: “Stefano, we've never seen anything like it. The situation has already gotten worse since I printed this out for you. And it's getting bleaker as we talk.”

S.P.: “What is this
Star Bank
all about?”

G.B.: “It's those guys from Starweb, the ones who've covered half the world with their biometric wireless payment systems. They broke their contract with Sabauda Bank six months ago over that mess about collecting user data, and just today they launched their own bank.”

S.P.: “So there are actually people willing to put their own money in the hands of these ragamuffins?”

G.B.: “People? It's a mass phenomenon. It's all you can read about on the internet right now. Typical sentence:
I took all of my money away from the loan sharks. Enough with dirty finance.
They started spreading stories on the derivatives, loss of funds and speculation. People are flooding us with messages saying they don't trust us anymore and can't wait to get away from us.”

S.P.: “Stefano, are you a little boy? Nobody believes the internet! Call the heads of the papers and the TV news, let's clarify how things really stand.”

G.B: “Giorgio, it's 2015! People buy things on the internet, make friends on the internet, trust what they read on the internet. If millions of users give you advice, you'll do what they tell you to. And nobody's listening to the experts on the TV news since they're all playing with their little tablets while they're watching the show!”

S.P.: “Okay, okay, leave me alone here, I'll take care of it.”

Giorgio Bertuzzi leaves the room.

Stefano Pellini dials the number 06 4530***.

Augusto Baldecchi, Channel 1 producer, responds.

A.B.: “Hello?”

S.P.: “Hi, it's Stefano. How's it going?”

A.B.: “Crazy. Insane. The usual.”

S.P.: “Listen, did you already pull something together on
Star Bank
?”

A.B.: “Something...everyone seems to be nuts about it on the internet. How's it going for you? I read that your stocks are falling in the exchange.”

S.P.: “Ah, well, it's just speculation! We haven't even lost a single Euro. Everything you read is trash.”

A.B.: “You really think so? Everyone's writing about how they've closed their old accounts and are going to
Star Bank
.”

S.P.: “Maybe they closed the accounts they had with the little banks in the middle of nowhere. But nobody would leave Sorgente Bank for those guys.”

A.B.: “Ah, okay.”

S.P.: “Listen, I need to tell you something so you can get prepared. But for now, please, this remains between us. You can tell everyone and their mother about it later. Listen: Star Bank is running on borrowed time!”

A.B.: “But it just got started!”

S.P.: “Sure, but do you know how it got started?”

A.B.: “Uh...I read that they prepared everything in secret for six months and then came out like a rocket.”

S.P.: “Yeah, sure, but the money?”

A.B.: “They probably don't have big problems with liquidity: they sell wireless payment systems over half of the globe.”

S.P.: “Are you kidding? Listen. We're advisors to some of their associated companies, we know their books: they're losing across the board. The classic scenario, debt buried in a few thousand companies in fiscal paradises, you know...completely unmonitored, and everything looks like it's oozing with liquidity, but they don't have a Euro in the bank.”

A.B.: “Okay, but the Bank of Italy, the tax authorities...nobody knows about this?”

S.P.: “Well they do have a few Euro, but it's not theirs.”

A.B.: “Whose is it?”

S.P.: “Laundered money.”

A.B.: “They must be crazy! So they're already dead!”

S.P.: “But you don't know who's involved! It's the Mafia. Billions of Euro...”

A.B.: “No way! It's the story of the year! Is there anyone else who knows?”

S.P.: “Nobody.”

A.B.: “We're on it!”

S.P.: “Destroy them for me, ok?”

A.B.: “No need to ask.”

S.P.: “Listen, that girl who does the evening news, is she in the game?”

A.B.: “When should I send her to you?”

S.P.: “Tomorrow. But to the apartment in Rome, tomorrow at 4pm. Have you tried her out?”

A.B.: “Of course, she's dynamite in bed!”

S.P.: “Great, we'll talk later and you can tell me what you've come up with.”

A.B. “Bye!”

The conversation ends.

Stefano Pellini dials 02 3949***.

Lucio Badalucchi, public prosecutor, responds.

L.B.: “Yes?”

S.P.: “Hi, it's Stefano.”

L.B.: “Oh, hi, Stefano. You don't need to say anything, I know you're right! You'll have to forgive me but I haven't really started the inquiry on the Morini brothers. We've been swamped with new files and it's taking all of our staff away.”

S.P.: “Don't worry. In any case nobody will be at the little haven in August. Listen, you need to check out something pretty big for me ASAP. You'll end up on the TV news all around the world. But when I say ASAP, I mean there's not a minute to waste.”

L.B.: “Fire away.”

S.P.: “Ok, do you know those guys from Starweb? Today they launched a dirty little bank on the internet. It's really nothing, just a way to steal the savings of a handful of losers. But the scandal that's about to come out is how much money the Mafia has given them. Before someone else gets a hold of this news, I think it'd be best for you to take care of it, right?

L.B.: “No question about it. We'll get right on it!”

S.P.: “Great, but there's a problem. I need a notice of investigation before tomorrow.”

L.B.: “No, we can't do that. Alessandro's going to the opera tonight. We can't do anything without the magistrate.”

S.P.: “You just need a signature?”

L.B.: “Right, the rest I can take care of. We can make it look like the inquiry started two months ago. We'll throw together a little documentation, I'll send something to myself by police mail. Anyway we're sure to find some Mafiosi that know them over the internet.”

S.P.: “But where do you get that kind of information?”

L.B.: “Stefano, are you still living in the stone age? Anyone can see who's following you on social networks. Someone like Obama has forty-five million followers on Twitter. The Google guys have fifteen. The kids at Starweb should have a couple million. You think we wouldn't be able to find the name of someone with ties to the Mafia among so many followers? All we need is a few messages exchanged. Then it'll be up to them, some time later in the future, to prove that they didn't mean to say what they wrote.”