The TVs Have Eyes

    "Okay Joe, enough chit-chat, let's get down to business."
    Joe Cummings leaned back in his chair, pulled his red ink pen from his shirt pocket, and slid his yellow, lined notepad toward him to begin taking notes. "Yes, I am actually curious to see what business the F.B.I. has with us. I assume this will be interesting."
    Agent Roy Donald's expression changed to a quizzical one, his eybrows arched, as he turned his gaze from Joe to the head of Macrostop Software, Sam Biltmore, who sat to Joe's right. Sam's expression did not change in the least. Roy nodded knowingly, and turned back to Joe.
    "How long have you been in charge of the gaming division at Macrostop, Joe?"
    "Two years. I was in product design before that."
    "Well, Joe, I see that your predecessor failed to pass on the note to you about your company's working arrangements with The Bureau. Nevermind the past, though, we're here to discuss the future."
    Joe turned to look at Sam, who just smiled at him, giving him no indication what was expected of him in this situation. He set his pen down on the notepad as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I suppose I shouldn't take notes?" Joe asked.
    Agent Donald answered with a smirk and set his cellphone in the center of the table. Sam followed suit. Joe took his out of his pocket, turned the screen on to see if there were any notifications, then set it down near the other two with the screen facing up so that he could see it if any calls came in.
    "Joe, we hear you all are in the final stages of deciding which prototype design to use for the upcoming console."
    "Yes, we have it narrowed down to three options we really like."
    "Well, Joe, I'm sorry to throw a kink in your timetables, but you forgot to invite us to those meetings and we have a few requirements we'd like you to add to the final unit."
    Joe's face contorted as he processed what he had just heard and he turned again to Sam for clarification. Sam smiled back at him, once again leaving him hanging.
    "We really like that camera add-on you guys came up with for the last console. We want you to include one with the new console and integrate it in such a way that it's required at all times, even when it is not in use by the game being played."
    Joe leaned back in his chair, trying desperately to hide the reaction he almost let slip. ~I can't believe this is happening,~ he thought to himself.
    "Secondly, we want you to require an internet connection at all times as much as possible. We realize this isn't always practical since people have gaming parties and such, but you need to find a way to require a connection as often as possible and as persistently as possible."
    Agent Donald paused for just a moment to give Joe a moment to fully grasp where this was headed, as it was clear to him that this wasn't going to go well.
    "Thirdly, you're going to need to keep extremely accurate logs of every game played, every conversation held during play, and every moment of direct user activity and inactivity. In other words, if a user sets his controller down to go get a snack, we need timestamps of when the controller was set down and when it was picked back up. You don't need to store that data longterm, we'll handle that. Just record it to a logging server that you will use for troubleshooting support issues and give us a few hours delay to mirror the data. After that, you can do whatever you want with it. Obviously, this includes all chat transcripts, audio recordings of in-game chatter, and timestamped listings of all interactions with other users, especially those that happen outside normal gameplay."
    "So you basically want to make our new console your Big Brother spying tool?" Joe realized what a mistake he was making even as the words were coming out of his mouth, but his growing frustration was getting the best of him.
    "Mr. Cummings, this is all info your server guys are already giving us. We just want to add a few details and make the sharing go a little more smoothly. Is there a problem with this?"
    Joe turned to Sam. "You never told me about that." Sam just smiled back with that same insincere smile, so Joe turned back to Agent Donald. "Do you realize what kind of outcry we're going to get if we make the camera mandatory? And a connection requirement? This is insane."
    "Calm down, Mr. Cummings. A few must-have titles will be enough to make them get over their concerns. Are you saying that your game designers aren't good enough to come up with something new to blow people's minds?"
    "That's not the issue. Why do you need this info? Are you really that afraid of a bunch of racist teenagers and fat narcissists? Seriously, have you ever played any games in our network and listened to the conversations? I don't think these people are a threat to anybody but themselves."
    "Mr. Cummings, you haven't learned much about the world in your 36 years."
    Joe's heart skipped a beat. Of course they could know how old he was pretty easily, but the fact that they bothered at all meant that they must have profiled him before this meeting. ~This is a losing situation, Joe, just agree and get the hell out of here,~ he told himself.
    "The sheer number of drug dealers doing their deals through your network is enough to make this data worth collecting. Nevermind the crazies who play your violent games as a sort of training ground for their shooting sprees. Surely you watch the news?"
    "Oh, are you referring to the school shooting that took place last year?" Joe asked. Now he thought he had a trump card he could play to get himself out of this situation. "Well, I saw all the reports that this guy was using first-person shooters on our network to prepare for his attack, but he didn't strike me as the typical gamer. I pulled his account details and found that he had barely played on our network. When he first signed up, he played a shooter for an hour or so, then he never touched that game again and spent most of his gaming time playing poker alone against the computer."
    Sam's expression finally changed to a questioning gaze as he stared at Joe. Joe tried to ignore him as he continued.
    "How would the media react if they knew the truth about that kid's gaming habits? And where did they get that supposed info in the first place, Mr. Donald?"
    Joe's stomach sank as he watched Agent Donald's confident smile spread across his face.
    "Well, Mr. Cummings, I suppose pretty much the same way they would react when they found out that the head of Macrostop's Gaming Division was a pedophile using his access to their network to tap into camera feeds and conversations to find easily exploitable victims."
    Joe had to fight back the feeling of panic that was growing inside. "That's a lie."
    Agent Donald's smile remained as he replied, "We have the following quote from a phone call between you and another Macrostop executive when you were discussing your ability to pull live video and audio from user accounts. I believe you said, 'Yeah, it's a pedophile's dream.'"
    "That's a complete misrepresentation. It was a joke. We were talking about the previous head of gaming, who everyone knew was a fruitcake. You know that."
    "Well, Mr. Cummings, how well do you think you could convince a bloodthirsty jury of that? It didn't work too well for Pastor Jenkins, now, did it?"
    "You mean that was a setup?" At this point, Joe threw himself back into his chair and realized the full gravity of the trap he had walked into. Desperate to escape, he sat back up and yelled, "Fine, you win! But this is going to destroy sales. We'll never overcome this bad press."
    "Now now, Mr. Cummings. Just have your accountants do some math to find out how much it hurts your bottom line for the first three quarters and we'll make up the difference. By the fourth quarter, everyone will have forgotten."
    "I don't think so. Competition is going to be pretty tight with Sento this time. They are going to mop the floor with us."
    "Sento is exactly the problem, Mr. Cummings. We haven't been able to convince the Japanese to work with us, so we really need your assistance. We're all Americans here, we have to look out for each other."
    "Americans or Russians?" Joe blurted out before he could stop himself. He was an emotional wreck and was having a hard time keeping himself together.
    Agent Donald sat up straight and turned to Sam. "Mr. Biltmore, refresh my memory... what is the organizational hierarchy for the gaming division again?"
    Outside the room, another agent that had been listening to the conversation pulled his cellphone from his jacket pocket and sent a text message to another agent waiting outside in a car parked in the parking garage. 'Signal given. Order 486.'
    Back in the conference room, Sam looked up at the camera hidden in the light fixture and made a waving motion as if to call someone into the room.
    "Well, Agent Donald, we have a new head of the gaming division as of today. I think you are familiar with Mr. Frank Bruno."
    Joe stood up, glaring at Sam, then noticed the screen of his phone light up with the boot screen. He reached out to grab it quickly, but realized it was already wiped of all data as it stopped at the prompt, 'Set up your new phone.' He dropped it to the table and glared back at Sam, but Sam and Agent Donald were both ignoring him.
    "Frank Bruno, yes," Agent Donald responded, "the former Air Force guy. When does he take over his new office?"
    "Expect him to be available tomorrow," Sam replied.
    All three men turned to the door of the conferencee room as it opened. Two security guards came in and stood before Joe, waiting to escort him out of the building.
    Sam finally turned to Joe, gave him a sympathetic look and a nod, then reached out to shake his hand. "Nothing personal, Joe, just business. Put me down if you need a reference... seriously."
    Joe hesitated, then shook Sam's hand. He knew Sam meant it. They had always gotten along really well. It was clear, now, that Sam was backed into a corner as well. He turned and left without saying another word. His thoughts were already racing as he began making plans to pack up and get out of town with his wife and daughter.
    After the door closed, Agent Donald and Sam turned to face each otheer again. "Tell Mr. Bruno I will give him a call tomorrow after lunch. Thanks for your cooperation, Sam. It's nice to be in business with someone who understands what is at stake."
    "Any time."

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    "Joe Cummings, the head of Macrostop Software's gaming division, was found dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in his car in the company parking lot this morning. There was a suicide note at the scene which contained an apology to his wife for having lost his job in the midst of their financial struggles. Mr. Cummings was just replaced yesterday by Frank Bruno, the former head of third party developer relations...."
    Agent Donald turned off the television, picked up his cell phone, and hit the speed dial icon for Frank Bruno on the home screen. After five rings, the answer came on the other end.
    "Frank Bruno, Macrostop Gaming."
    "Mr. Bruno, it's Agent Roy Donald from the F.B.I. Congratulations on your promotion."
    "Thank you."
    "Has Agent Emmanuel been in touch with you this morning to discuss the technical details of the requested features for the next console."
    "Yes sir, they shouldn't be a problem at all."
    "Great. I trust you've seen the sad news about Mr. Cummings this morning? It's a shame, really."
    "Yes, I watched the report. It's just as well, to be honest. Liberal commies like him shouldn't be in positions of influence. They only put America at risk."
    "Nice answer, Mr. Bruno. I'm glad to hear that some people understand what is at stake. You have a bright future ahead of you at Macrostop Software, I am sure of it."
    "Thank you, sir. Point taken."
    "Well, since everything seems to be in good hands, I will leave you to Mr. Emmanuel's attention. Oh, one other thing, Mr. Bruno. How did you end up liking that new brand of whiskey you purchased last night?"

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Todd Russell
July, 2013