I‘ve had it with Jim,” declared Francine to her office furniture. “What we had was entirely physical, but we understood we wouldn’t have sex with anyone else in the lab. But now the shithead chose an android as his lover. Not even another woman. An android! And he’s done overnights with her! Unbelievable!”
This nonsense has to stop, she said to herself, there is no way this is a healthy relationship or even a relationship at all. To have a relationship, the other person has to at least be a person. Maybe if I turn up the heat on the home front, Jim would back off this Gabriella nonsense, and we could get back to banging each other like nature intended.
How to tell Alice about Jim’s latest dalliance is the question, though. If I mentioned Gabriella’s name, Jim would know where the information came from. No one else in the lab would care enough or dare to tell Alice about it. If I contacted Alice myself, Alice would ask questions about what my interest in the whole affair was. No, it had to be something more subtle than direct communication with her.
The nightly news carried a small filler story about how many people were using the New York City Library System computers. It said some people were committing illegal acts by surfing porn sites. To provide free and equal access to all, the library system had to allow people to use their computers for any reason they chose. It reported the NSA would monitor all communications and web searches, but would only look for those activities which were a threat to national security.
That’s it. This is the perfect vehicle to deliver a message to Alice. And if I do it right, I could also accuse myself of having sex with Jim, too. Wait. No, it’s a bit too risky. I can’t implicate myself. This is real life, not a TV detective show.
The next day instead of going to lunch, Francine grabbed a cab for the short ride to the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue. All of the public access computers were in use.
Oh, come on now! Aren’t all of you people supposed to be at work? Go away, she groused. Fifteen minutes later, a computer opened up. Finally!
It took her only ten minutes to set up a new email account and fabricate bogus background information to make the person behind the note virtually untraceable.
Nothing electronic is untraceable, but no one would spend the resources to officially trace down a letter that had no national security implications. I’m safe.
The email was short. It stated it was common knowledge in the AI Concepts Design and Development Lab Jim was having sexual relations with at least two of the women who work there.
“There, this should get that SOB to think about what he’s doing and snap him out of it. Nothing like making it hot for him. If I do this right, Jim will have to make a choice between me and an android, and as always, I win.” she whispered as she clicked Send. The anonymous note flew its target, untraceable and deadly.
Francine returned to work with a smug smile on her face, tasting her sure victory.