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Ch 28: Director’s Cut, Part Deux: “He Ain’t Heavy . . .’’
 By Jim Caple |
Previously at 24 College Avenue: Most of the residents have arrested under suspicion of being in a terror cell due to the video and Internet evidence gathered in a documentary film student Paul Fairhaven thought was for a class on invasion of privacy taught by Prof. Ken Moore. Meanwhile, a destruction crew has arrived to tear down the house to clear way for a neighborhood development plan called College World. . . .
Mandy Stevenson took one look at the cell and shook her head.
“No, this won’t do at all,’’ Mandy said. “For one thing, I refuse to share a bedroom with this skank, who surely would test positive for both steroids and peroxide.’’ She pointed to Nicollette, sitting on her bunk. . “And as for her,’’ she said, pointing toward Jill laying on the bunk above, “I simply will not share a room with a lesbian, which I’m sure she is, what with being a basketball player.’’ Nicollette and Jill exchanged glances, then gave Mandy the finger. The Red Devils cheerleader didn’t notice. She never noticed.
“And most importantly, I need Tinkerbell.’’
“Tinkerbell?’’
“My Chihuahua.’’
The guard nodded in mock sympathy. She had worked in the State College jail for two decades and had pretty much seen it all. “I’m sorry dear,’’ she told Mandy. “I’ll speak with the county prosecutor about getting you a new place. Perhaps something in a more fashionable neighborhood? With a view?’’
“Thank you,’’ Mandy said, oblivious to the sarcasm. “And in the meantime, could you tell me where is the restroom?’’
Good Lord, the guard thought, rapidly losing her patience. Where the hell did this girl think she was? The Hilton?
“It’s attached to the wall.’’
Mandy looked over and saw a dirty, chipped toilet.
“As if. You can’t expect me to use that. There’s no door for privacy. Not that I would use such a filthy thing even if there was a door. I wouldn’t even let Tinkerbell use such a horrid device. She is very sensitive.’’
“Get used to it, girl,’’ the guard said, slamming the cell door as loud as she could. “From the sounds of it, you’re going to be in for a long time.’’
Shocked, Mandy watched the guard walk away. “Bitch,’’ she said.
# # #
Bonzi lay back on his bunk, wishing he had his trumpet, or a harmonica, anything to play so he could pass the time. He was so lost in his own misery that he didn’t hear Josh enter the cell until the guard slammed the door behind him.
“Welcome to the club,’’ Bonzi greeted his housemate.
“The club?’’ Josh replied. “What are you talking about?’’
“The Red Devils Terrorists Club,’’ the trumpet player said. “One by one, they interrogated us and threw us in here. Me. Steve. And now you. But how come you’re here? I thought they decided not to arrest you when they stormed the house.’’
“They arrested me for interfering with the crew tearing down the house this morning,’’ Josh said. “But if this is where they’re holding Steve, where is he?’’
Bonzi sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cit. “He’s with your smuggler friend.’’
“My smuggler friend? What are you talking about?’’
“I don’t know. Some guy who says he met you in Prague last summer. Smuggles bootleg DVDs for a living or something.’’
Geez, Josh thought. He must mean Marcus. But what the hell was Marcus doing in State College? And more importantly, where was he now?
“I don’t know how he did it,’’ Bonzi went on, “but he said a few words to a couple security guards and the next thing you know, they’re opening the door for him. Steve wasn’t handling being in this cell very well, so he begs your smuggler friend to take him with him. And he did.’’
“Great. That’s just great,’ Josh said. “Fairhaven and I worked all night on a DVD that would get everyone out of here. And now Marcus goes and screws everything up with a jail break.’’
# # #
The State College Engineering Quadrangle is the premier research facility in the country. Walking along the gentle cherry tree-lined pathways you would never guess at the highly sensitive government and corporate projects going on within the neo-gothic buildings. That’s assuming, however, you could walk along those paths, which you can’t. Access to the E-Quad is nearly as strictly controlled as coach Jimmy Medici’s basketball tower, with students and faculty first required to pass extensive background checks before gaining an access key.
Unless, of course, you have spent the past 25 years finding your way into secure places, sneaking in everywhere from behind the old Iron Curtain to key South African military bases during apartheid days. Which is how Marcus had bribed his way out of the State College jail and then into the E-quad.
“Why the hell are we here?’’ Steve asked as Marcus slid a security card into a key holder. “Shouldn’t we be getting as far away from campus as possible.’’
“All in good time, brother. First, I need to pick up a little something.’’ The door opened and Marcus gestured for Steve to follow.
“Pick up a little something? What are you talking about? You said you were grabbed in Kazakhstan and brought here against your will under extreme rendition for smuggling pirated ‘Borat’ DVDs.’’
“Well, I might have stretched the truth a little about that, my brother. I’m actually here on a little operation. Little, but very lucrative. I’m looking for a computer disk.’’
The two walked through the door and entered a room lit by dozens upon dozens of TV monitors flashing from one image to another so fast it was as if they were strobe lights.
“What sort of disk? And how do you know it’s here?’’
“Didn’t Josh tell you, brother? I have very good sources,’’ Marcus said, scanning the room. “Now let’s see. Where is it they said I would find this little baby?’’
“Could I help you with something?’’
Steve, who had spent every moment since the arrest virtually petrified with an awful, claustrophobic fear, nearly wet his pants at the voice. He and Marcus turned around to find the wheelchair-bound figure of Prof. Ken Moore.
“As a matter of fact, you could,’’ Marcus said coolly. “I’m looking for Big Brother.’’
# # #
As Fairhaven rushed up the steps to the administration building for a second time, he prayed that he was in time. “Dear Father in heaven, I’m not a praying man but if you’re up there and you can hear me, please show me the way.’’ (1)
He intended to take the DVD to State College President Cheney right away as Josh had told him. The problem was just as he had entered the administration building the first time, he came up with an idea for a better, more dynamic opening to the documentary. The new sequence had an important film noir quality to it that Fairhaven thought would really tie everything together.
So he rushed back to the house to make a quick edit, only to see Josh being arrested and the bulldozers crash into the front porch. Obviously, it was too late to get to his laptop to edit the movie. Now, all he could do is hope it wasn’t too late to get the DVD to Cheney. And cross his fingers that the original opening was strong enough to draw in the viewer.
But when he got to the top of the steps, he found the doors to the building locked. He gripped the handle and yanked as hard as he could, rattling the doors and pounding on the glass, trying desperately to get someone’s attention.
v“Elaine!’’ he shouted. “ELAINE! ELAINE! ELAINE!’’ (2)
# # #
“Big Brother?’’ Moore said. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. And even if I did, why would I give him to you?’’
“Oh, no reason,’’ Marcus said. “That is no reason other than wanting to be a good bloke, help me out, promote world harmony and . . . keep that nice tweed jacket from getting any nasty blood stains.’’
Marcus pulled a pistol from his leather coat and Moore sat back in his chair. “Well, in that case, be my guess,’’ the professor said. “Of course, you may need some help. You see, I’m afraid Big Brother is rather aptly named. He weighs several tons at the moment, though we hope to have him down to a single jump drive eventually, say within five years. Maybe you could come back then?’’
Marcus kept the gun pointed at Moore, unsure whether to believe him. His sources had told him that Big Brother was already on a disk.
“You wouldn’t be lying to me, now would you brother?’’
“And risk my life? Don’t kid yourself. I’m no hero. I don’t even schedule office hours with a student if I gave him less than a 2.8 on a midterm. You never know how students will react these days, what will send them to the top of the campus carillon with an AK-47. It’s one of the reasons we need Big Brother.’’
“Who the hell is Big Brother?’’ Steve shouted.
Moore examined Steve for the first time. “You’re the photographer, right? The one who refused to turn over your memory card so we could see who threw the tear gas canister that started the fire at the riot? You know, it would have saved you a lot of grief had you cooperated the first time. By the way, shouldn’t you be in jail?’’
“What are you guys talking about?’’ Steve asked. “Who is Big Brother?’’
“He’s not a ‘who,’ brother,’’ Marcus said. “He’s a ‘what.’
# # #
Mayor Woodland’s secretary shook her head and directed Fairhaven to sit down in one of the chairs alongside the wall.
“I’m afraid His Honor isn’t available at the moment. He’s preparing to attend the arraignment of that terror cell, you know, the Red Devil Eight. Or is it the State College Nine? I can never keep it straight. Anyway, he’s very busy – the arraignment begins in an hour.’’
An hour? Crap, Fairhaven thought as he sat down in the chair, that didn’t give him any time. When he wasn’t able to get into the administration building he had raced directly to the mayor’s office and yet he was still too late. He had let his friends down.
No, he hadn’t let them down yet. As long as minutes remained on the clock, there remained hope. He just needed to summon up the courage necessary to finally stop being a voyeur of life and take action. He had brought this mess on his friends and he was damned if he was going to let them dangle in the wind. He took a deep breath, pounded his fist three times to his chest and stood up defiantly. “I am Spartacus,’’ he said and stepped purposely to the mayor’s office door. (3)
“Sit down, young man. I told you His Honor can’t see you now.’’
“Frankly my dear,’’ Fairhaven said as he grabbed the door handle, “I don’t give a damn.’’ (4)
“Stop!’’ the secrtary yelled. “What are you doing?’’
Fairhaven flashed the DVD in his hand and walked into the office. “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.’’ (5)
# # #
“Big Brother,’’ Marcus continued, “is a complex computer program capable of spying on everyone in the world.’’
Moore shook his head with amusement. “Let’s not exaggerate, shall we? Big Brother is merely a tool, a computer network with enough memory to access all the information already available. But such a tool! It collects everything – emails, Internet searches, MyWeb video, public and private surveillance cameras, Google maps, satellite imagery, cell phone transcripts – EVERYTHING! – and sorts it by individual. We’re then able to break down what an individual has written, said and done over a given period of time. With Big Brother, we can know more about a person than his wife or parents. We know everything down to your brand of deodorant.’’
“But that’s an invasion of privacy!’’ Steve protested.
“An invasion of privacy? Didn’t you listen to what I said? Big Brother only utilizes what is already available. The truth is everyone has already relinquished their privacy and invited everyone else into their lives – the only thing is there is no RSVP. Secrets? You reveal them to the government every day by using email, a network developed for the military. All your purchases? You record them forever by signing up for a credit card in order to get airline miles. Pregnant? Show the entire world by posting a daily photo of your pregnancy on MyWeb. People don’t care about privacy anymore. Why, when Google began posting photos of specific addresses so detailed they show the pet sitting in the window, no one even complained – they just used it to peep on their neighbors.’’
“But what’s the point?’’
Moore wheeled around the lab, gesturing to the monitors. He pressed a computer key and the image of froze on all the screens. It was Steve shooting a photograph up a cheerleader’s skirt.
“Nice angle,’’ he commented. “Probably would hate to have a prospective employer see that, wouldn’t you? Well, don’t worry. I’ll delete it.’’ He pushed a button and the image disappeared, replaced by a shot of Steve shooting a photograph down a cheerleader’s blouse
“But you were asking what the point is. The point is obvious, isn’t it? Knowledge is power and this gives us unimagined knowledge of everyone. We can sell that knowledge at enormous profit to retailers, online companies, corporations, spammers.
“But I must admit, all that is a side benefit. The real purpose to Big Brother is to gain an exploitable leverage over the secrets of some very influential people. And with that knowledge, to control their votes.’’
“You mean you want to control Congress and the President?’’
Moore pressed another key and the monitors returned to displaying thousands of random images that changed quicker than you could see what any one of them was. “Don’t be silly. Why would we want that? Congress does fine without us. The voters we seek to control are the writers and analysts who vote in the X-Treme Bowl Championship Series rankings and ‘encourage’ them to vote for the Red Devils.’’
Steve and Marcus said nothing while waiting for Moore to laugh at his joke. But he didn’t laugh. He was serious.
“You mean to tell me all this is to rig a football poll?’’ Steve asked. “Who would go to such lengths? The expense alone would rule out everybody except . . . Oh, no. It couldn’t be.’’
But it was.
“You’re with Blood and Muscle, State College’s secret campus society.’’
Moore nodded with pride. “And you’re not as dumb as you look.’’
# # #
The guard returned to the cell and slid open the door. “OK, girls. Time for your arraignment.’’
“But we haven’t even been allowed to speak with a lawyer,’’ Nicollette said. “We’re entitled to a lawyer.’’
The guard shrugged. “Tell it to the judge.’’
Jill leaned against Nicollette and began to sob softly. “Oh, jeez. I’m scared, Nicollette. I’m really scared.’’
“It’s OK, Jill. Everything is going to be fine. We’ve done nothing wrong. There’s nothing to be frightened of.’’
Mandy fixed her hair in the mirror and dabbed some gloss on her lips. “I don’t know about Jill,’’ she said, as she made her way out the cell, “but if I were you, I’d be scared about how big that orange jumpsuit makes your ass look.’’
# # #
Marcus pointed the gun with emphasis at Moore. “Well, I don’t care who developed the program or why. I just want the disk.’’
“I told you. It’s not on a disk.’’
“Yes, that’s what you say, brother. But as we’ve talked, I noticed that every once in awhile you glanced nervously at that one table. And then when you were wheeling about the room just a moment ago, you tossed a newspaper over something.’’ Marcus walked over to the table and picked up the newspaper with one hand. With his other hand, he picked up a computer disk. “Now, isn’t this interesting,’’ he said. “The CD case has ‘Big Brother’ written on it. I’m betting this disk has all the data needed to operate Big Brother.’’
Moore laughed. “Of course it is. The most valuable piece of software in the world and I have a copy of it sitting out in the open on a table.’’
“Hiding the valuable in plain sight has served me well over the years, brother. I once smuggled a truckload of blue jeans into the Soviet Union inside a Levi’s delivery truck. No one checked inside – they couldn’t believe I would be so obvious.’’
Moore shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m not going to worry about it.’’
Marcus signaled to Steve to follow him out the lab door. “A pleasure speaking to you, professor. Good luck with that national championship of yours.’’ He waved farewell, pushed Steve out the door ahead of him, and exited the room.
As soon as Steve and Marcus closed the door behind them, Moore set off the E-Quad security alarm. An ear-piercing klaxon sounded.
“C’mon brother,’ Marcus said. “We need to get moving.’’
The two raced down the hall, nearly slipping as they hastily turned the corner. They didn’t get any farther before being stopped in their tracks.
“Oh, my God,’’ Steve said, unable to believe who was in front of him.
Next: The Final Chapter
Here are the movies Paul Fairhaven referenced in this chapter:
(1) George Bailey in “It’s a Wonderful Life’’
(2) Benjamin in “The Graduate’’
(3) Antonius in “Spartacus’’
(4) Rhett Butler in “Gone With the Wind’’
(5) Don Corleone in “The Godfather’’
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