Galactic Energies (21 page)

Both the question and his friend's smirk dampen Mario's enthusiasm.

After lingering a while, studying their moves out of the corner of her eye, Isabella is able to confirm what she already knew: Mario has little confidence with women. The only way to get the right reaction is to put him under pressure, so she makes as if to put her coat back on and leave.

She's too pretty! I've got nothing to lose, I better make my move:
“I'm going to try!” Mario says, springing into action.

Isabella smothers a satisfied grin:
just like clockwork!

Mario is already halfway to the bar when he slows down his pace and starts looking around, hoping to identify a new and unexpected reason for his approach.

She finishes putting on her coat and reaches down to move the stool in order to make her way out. Mario understands that he's going to lose his last chance and decides to jump in, just as the woman expected. “Did someone stand you up? Or are they running late?” he asks, trying to break the ice.

“My friend's babysitter got sick at the last minute,” she responds, slightly annoyed, her eyes implying “What's it to you?” She knows that Mario, deep down, likes women who are slightly intimidating.

If you don't mind, I can keep you company
, Mario wants to respond, but from his embarrassed smile he's only able to let out: “You didn't finish your wine yet! How about we chat a bit?”

He's really a disaster with women!
she thinks. “And your friend?” she replies, nodding ironically towards Roberto, who seems to be undressing her with his eyes.

Mario glances at his coworker, who pretends not to notice and shifts his gaze towards the bottles displayed behind the bar. He turns back to Isabella, opens his mouth to say something but hesitates, his lips parted, his eyes darting searching for something intelligent to talk about. He ends up saying nothing.

She decides to help him out a little: “Okay! I'll stay just to finish my drink.”

The triumphant joy in Mario's heart overflows through the huge smile spreading across his face.

“That's a great model! It's the latest release from DataCom,” Mario remarks, indicating her smartphone. And as he says this the triumphant joy is replaced by a sad realization:
I'm an idiot. She stays to drink and all I can talk about are cell phones!

To his great surprise, the woman of his dreams sitting in front of him responds enthusiastically: “It's revolutionary! Nothing like the earlier models. With this you can...”

From the myriad of information she's collected, Isabella knows how to charm him, given his obsession with technology. Just an hour later, Mario is ready to do anything in order to spend every moment of his life with this incredible woman.

Isabella takes one last glance at her smartphone, pretending she's checking the time: “No! How did it get so late? Sorry, I have to run!” She gives him a rushed smile and says goodbye.

Caught by surprise, Mario again thinks about what to say to keep her from getting away:
Do you want me to come with you? Can I have your number? What's your name?
But she's already out the door. He stays, staring at her, confused and completely at a loss.

Finally he unfreezes and runs outside. Too late: a taxi with Isabella's beautiful face inside passes right in front of him.

Five, four, seven, eight. He manages to take down the car number with his smartphone.

Series 1

1/I – All over

Mario jumps into his car. The smartphone automatically connects to the audio system: “Latest news from the Milan stock exchange. Securities in real estate...”

“Um, no, no, thanks. I'd like to listen to a little music. The Scorpions, please.”

“Now you're listening to
The best of the Scorpions – Wind of Change
.”

The notes warm up the icy air of the car interior.

“
I follow the Moskva

Down to Gorky Park

Listening to the wind of change.
”

“Late-breaking news. The real estate market in downtown Milan has dropped by...”

“Enough! I don't want to hear anything about real estate. Disable automatic updates.”

“Updates disabled. You have three new emails. First message. Sender: Alberto...”

“Goddamn contraptions!” Mario sighs, exasperated. “Turn everything off!”

The road passes underneath the car's wheels. Mario doesn't seem to notice anything. Turns, traffic lights, pedestrian crosswalks. He tries in vain to keep his mind empty.

1/II – Customer service

Mario pulls up in front of the driveway. He stops the car and leans his forehead against the steering wheel. “I can't go in,” he murmurs.

The smartphone, as timely as ever, starts talking again: “Would you like to go to the bar on Morosini street? Traffic conditions: congested. Travel time: eight minutes. Three of your friends are already there: Alberto, Gino...”

“No, please. Disable help, updates, everything.”

“Connection to customer service underway.” the device responds.

Mario lifts his head from the steering wheel, reaches for the smartphone nestled in the car's control panel, turns it off and takes out the battery, just to make sure. A light feeling of freedom gives him the strength to turn the ignition back on and park in the driveway in front of the garage.

He gets out of the car and moves towards the front door. He puts his hand on the doorknob. Isabella, his wife, has been waiting for hours and she opens the door, looking for a miracle in his eyes. He shakes his head “no.” She brings her hands to her face to hide the tears starting to fall.

“I'm so sorry. I...” Mario starts. He comes towards her, brushes her arms with his gentle fingers. He draws her to him, puts his hands on her back and kisses her on the forehead.

Isabella uncovers her face and lifts her eyes: “Now what?”

The display on the door activates: “It's Friday night. Would you like to make reservations at Pizza & Joy for eight thirty and a lane at the bowling alley for nine o'clock?”

Mario's eyes are cruel: “Isabella, please, let's turn off all this stuff.”

“We can't, darling, you know that.”

“Yes, yes we can!” Mario goes down to the basement and unplugs the electricity meter. As soon as he gets back to the living room, Isabella's smartphone starts to ring.

“It's customer service,” she says, worried.

“I'll take care of it! Give me that.”

“Please, Mario, let's not make things worse.”

With a firm yet gentle hand he takes the smartphone from her: “Hello.”

“Hello, this is operator three-hundred forty-seven from DataCom customer service. Is this Mrs. Isabella Orsini?”

“No, I'm her husband.”

“Very well. We understand that there was an interruption of DataCom service today in your smartphone as well as your residence. Is there something we can do to help?”

“Listen, we're going through something here. We need a little break.”

“The User Contract expressly forbids enabling pause mode. If we are unable to provide service, we will be forced to suspend access to video, music, TV, reservations, travel and credit card services. In addition, personal photos, files and all data stored on the DataCom servers will be inaccessible.”

Operator three-hundred forty-seven is a virtual entity. Mario, however, has no intention to give up. “Listen, please. Today I lost my job. We just need a break for a couple days. Please, don't take everything away from us.”

“The DataCom jobs service is available after termination of work contracts. You can use it to search for an exciting new employment opportunity.”

Isabella speaks up: “Mario, please...”

1/III – The code

Isabella's eyes tremble with fear. Mario feels his heart ache. He has always done everything he could to protect her.

“I'm sorry.” He touches the display and interrupts the conversation with DataCom customer service.

They stand in the living room, silent.

“Why did you do that?” she asks.

Isabella's smartphone announces she has a new message. “Dear Client, the DataCom emergency response team will arrive at your residence within five minutes.”

Mario chucks the device against the wall. “Isabella, we need to get out of here. We don't have any time.”

She doesn't move. “Please, tell me what's going on.”

“I'll explain it to you later. Just get your stuff and let's go.”

“Mario, they called me at lunch and told me you were afraid you were going to lose your job. Now you want us to escape like two criminals. I'm not moving from here until you give me an explanation!”

“Isabella, forgive me. I don't know where to start. I, I... I killed a man!”

“You - what?”

“A few weeks ago at work, I wrote the code for a new commission. My company usually only works as a subcontractor: for reasons of privacy, we often don't even know who the final client is. I had to use an algorithm that, through a series of suggestions, guides the user to end their own life. I figured it was just a regular video game and I didn't think too much about it. When the first release came out I asked for an analysis of the usage data. It's standard procedure, we use it to identify programming errors and correct them in later releases. Something in the data caught my eye. One user was identified by a first and last name, not the regular “Nick” they usually use in games. I did a search online and found a dozen news article about a man with the same name committing suicide.”

“Mario, do you realize what you're telling me? It's all just a coincidence. Nobody would use software to kill people.”

“That's what I thought, too. A coworker in administration gave me the client's contact info: DataCom. I contacted them to get a better understanding, but I could only speak with virtual managers on the phone, and they all confirmed that the software functions according to the specifications.”

“And then what?”

“I didn't know who to talk to so I asked Roberto, my boss, to help me. I told him I needed help with a few technical issues and I wanted to speak with a human at DataCom. He explained that after the last crisis, a lot of managers were replaced as part of a cost containment policy. From then on our company can only work with automated managers.”

“But why did they lay you off?”

“I don't know! A few hours after I called DataCom I got a message asking me to leave the office because I was being fired.”

All of the new information confuses Isabella.

“Now we really need to go, please,” Mario begs her.

The doorbell startles both of them. A man's voice barks from behind the door: “DataCom emergency response.”

Mario motions to Isabella to stay still. Both freeze, holding their breath.

The voice's tone rises: “We know you're in there. Open up or we'll be forced to break the door down.”

“Isabella,” Mario whispers in her ear. “They're dangerous. Let's go. The back door.”

Isabella nods.

1/IV – Two hackers

Mario and Isabella move in silence. Outside, the men from the DataCom emergency response team talk amongst themselves.

Mario checks through a window to make sure nobody is out back.

“It's clear,” he whispers to Isabella, opening the door and waving her towards the bicycles resting against the fence.

They climb onto the seats and escape through the side streets of the residential neighborhood.

Pedaling, Isabella asks: “Where are we going?”

Mario hesitates. He's not too keen on revealing the existence of a slightly secret side of his life. He hates to admit that he keeps secrets from his own wife. “I've got some friends. They're good at moving around the network to find... particular kinds of information. Usually I only communicate with them online, but every once in a while I meet them in their lab. I think they can help us out.”

“Mario, we should go straight to the police. I'm scared.”

“The police are a DataCom client, like most public officials. It would be too risky.”

They reach a row of warehouses in the industrial zone, and go further inwards towards the old abandoned factories.

“Mario, this place -”

“Don't worry, dear. We're almost there.”

They enter an abandoned building full of broken glass and rusty iron. Mario stops near a hatch door. He knocks three times, waits, and knocks again.

The little door opens. The head of an Asian boy, Lin, rises up from the floor. “Hey, Mario! What are you doing here? Hello, Mrs. Orsini.”

Lin walks with them into the lab, where he's working with his friend Eugenio. Isabella is intimidated by the sheer number of cables, monitors and LEDs. Mario tells them what happened.

“So the man who committed suicide had the same first and last name that you found in the analysis of user data... hmm,” Lin reflects, undecided. “It's unlikely that this is just some coincidence. Let's try looking through the Ministry's server for names of other recent suicides.” His fingers beat frenetically against the keyboard.

“Holy cow! Mario, when did you release that new code?”

“About two weeks ago. Why?”

“Look. In the last two weeks, the daily suicide rate in Italy has increased tenfold. It's scary! Eugenio, let's look at some other countries.”

Mario's head starts to spin. He feels like he's sinking into a nightmare.

A little vibration in Isabella's bag distracts her: “Excuse me, where's the bathroom?”

Isabella closes the bathroom door behind her. She takes a device, no bigger than a fingernail, out of her purse and brings it to her ear. “Robi, not now -”

“Isabella, I'm worried about you. The people from DataCom are here and so are the police. They're asking everyone what they know about your husband. They even asked me about us,” says Roberto, Mario's boss.

“Robi, I need to go.” Isabella goes back to join the others.

“Oh my god!” Lin is saying. “France, Germany, the United States. Suicides have multiplied by at least ten everywhere! Look at the profiles! They're all linked to -”