Men at Their Tables

A man sits across the table from another, his clothes worth more than many in the city, his eyes are closed as if he were concentrating, thinking of something important that he forgot. After several moments, he opens his eyes, wipes away sweat from his forehead with an embroidered handkerchief, then focuses his eyes on the man sitting before him. “I’m ready.”

“We’re on,” the man across from him says, not moving his eyes away from his other’s visage.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I have a short statement to read and then I will briefly answer questions if time permits. As you know, there is a lot of fear and confusion on the streets of our fair city today. The Feed was temporarily turned off for scheduled maintenance and upgrades. There were several patches implemented for our citizen’s security which required the Feed to be brought offline, and sadly the press poorly publicized the announcement, resulting in barely enough advanced notice to prevent any negative aspects from this downtime.

“Many in our city are giving in to rumors, such as the one that this was a terrorist attack, and I am going on the record as saying there is absolutely no truth to those stories. The Mayor’s office sent out a press release a week ago that clearly announced the downtime, and though there was no physical damage resulting from the Feed going offline, the Mayor feels that any rumor or whisper that it was unplanned is completely unnecessary. To that end, there are more scheduled upgrades in the future, and we ask the press to do a more thorough job in telling the public. Further, the Mayor hopes that any and every member of the press will refrain from commenting on the frankly ludicrous accusations of terrorism. Simply put, as many know, there are unscrupulous members of the public who are abusing the Feed and causing much harm to the general population. Identity theft has been rampant in the last few months, and the Mayor is doing all he can to stop this crime in all its forms, which was one of the reasons the Feed was brought down today.”

* * *

A man sits across the table from another, wearing the same clothes he has for years, the threads eaten away by the moths and rats in the relative wild he had called home, save for the black sack over his head that is ripped away exposing his eyes to the ugly light pointed at him. He blinks several times to get his vision back, but cannot bother wiping the sweat from his forehead as his hands are cuffed behind him.

“Are we ready now?”

“Your information says your name is Stockton Davies. Is this true?” the man across from him asks.

Stockton sits in contemplation for several long moments, rolling his head back and looking at the fiberglass ceiling tiles, before he finally looks the man across from him in the eyes and saying, “Yes, I believe it is.”

“Your information says you were born in Kentucky. Is this true?”

He repeats the act, this time stretching his thoughts out for close to a minute. “Most likely, yes.”

“Your information says you were married to a woman named Anita Davies, deceased. Is this true?”

“Yes,” Stockton says quickly, his voice flat.

“Your information says you have one son, William. Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“Your information says you have not been active on the Feed for nine years. Is this true?”

“No,” he says, the muscles in his face contorting his lips into a smile. “That’s not true at all.”

* * *

“Now, I have time for just a few questions. First, I’ll take one from Matthew Goode, the Observer.”

“Thank you, sir,” a man says from his office across town. Were there anyone there with him, it would seem he was talking to himself. “Could you go into more detail as to the abuses of the Feed you mentioned?”

“Of course. It seems the criminal element has found a way to clone an individual’s NeuralNet field, to the point where they can use this false clearance to access the victim’s bank and any other financial information. Further, some are using these stolen NeuralNet fields to, in essence, act as another person, either someone with any form of security clearances, or simply posing as the victim when caught in any sort of criminal act. That is a serious problem that is undermining the efforts of the city’s police force.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Of course. Next, I’ll take a question from Irving Fuegos, from the Times.”

* * *

“Your information says you are suspected of leading a neo-Primitive group in the mountains north of the city. Is this true?”

“Well, I have me a group of friends up there, sure.”

“Is it true you and your ‘friends’ openly espouse contempt for the NeuralNet?”

“Well, man, we’re just a bunch of old kooks who like to run our mouths. One guy, Stephen, he likes to talk about the time he and his boys hunted a bigfoot up in Oregon for several days. Man says he got within a hundred yards of it. Said it stank like forty-five day old milk left out in the sun.”

“Are you involved in any form of anti-NeuralNet activity?”

“Well, not presently, no.”

“You’re not?”

“No sir, I’m locked in an interrogation room probably in some hidden nanny tenement. Not too bright, are you?”

“I’d advise you to be respectful.”

“And I’d advice you to use some common sense. How can I be doing anti-NeuralNet activity when I’m handcuffed. Don’t make much sense now, does it?”

“Were you in any way responsible for the NeuralNet going offline today?”

* * *

“Thank you, Mr. Press Secretary. You said that the NeuralNet feed going offline today was simply a scheduled maintenance issue.”

“Yes it was, Irving.”

“And you said this was announced well ahead of today.”

“Yes it was. The press release went out last Friday.”

“If that’s true, than why was the aforementioned press release not noticed by anyone in the press until today.”

“I already covered that, Irving.”

“And why, when I asked a lower member of the Mayor’s administration, who commented on the promise of anonymity when I spoke with him just after the NeuralNet came back online, said he had no idea why the Feed went down today, that it wasn’t scheduled or known about by anyone he had spoken too?”

“I can’t comment on one member of the administration who hasn’t read the memos we regularly send out.”

“Then why, when looking closer at the aforementioned press release, is there no mention of it anywhere, save the Mayor’s files, before thirty minutes after the NeuralNet came back online today?”

* * *

“Stockton Davies, what was your plan for bringing down the NeuralNet and causing untold amounts of harm to the system?”

“Who said anything about me having a plan?”