“Got it,” Helen said.
“Good, now see what you can do, Mr.Turnbull, to cheese it up.Don't add any effects but choose a good song that also sends a message,” Tiffany told them, checking her watch.“I have a class starting in twenty minutes.Donny, Mr.Franklin will arrive at the front door to take you to Minneapolis to retrieve your truck.”
She walked away, leaving Donovan and Helen to watch.He said nothing and he took his phone and thanked Helen for her help.In the chair by the fireplace, he watched the video several times before creating the reel.
“Do you need any help?”Helen asked.
“No, I can do it,” he said, picking the song “Angel,” which always played for the homeless dogs.It reminded him so much of his life, needed a chance to start over, escape from the hopeless, and fall into some kind of comfort.Donovan added no graphics before he clicked post.
In the other room, the sound of the doorbell ringing got his attention.He grabbed his coat and put on his hat and gloves.He nodded to Helen, letting her know it was done.She in turn, not knowing what the hell she was doing, activated her bots, tagged the video on his page, and commented, “This is how love feels in the midst of a storm.”She hit post and sat staring at her computer.
In less than fifteen minutes, the video had a thousand views.Helen sat straight up, “Shit, let me monetize this so I can get a few pennies.”
By the time Donovan returned to the house, they were at over twenty thousand views, a hundred and twenty-five shares, and at the bottom of the comments was what they wanted, Aspasia Wellington Wells replied on the posting.
“Moved on so soon I see,” she commented.Her followers jumped on the bandwagon and clicks and views soared.
“Well, we have what she wanted, Mr.Turnbull,” Helen said to Donovan as he walked over to look at the screen.
“So, we do,” he replied, watching the hateful people dogpile onto her comments.The rage was building in him and Helen watched him for a moment.They were about to create a villain who would consider himself a trumpeter for justice for every man, but she was seeing something else.
The Cranberry wasn't sure if she liked it one iota.
****
QUIETLY, TIFFANY ENTEREDthe kitchen with a notepad in her hand and two sheets of paper with codes written on each sheet.Helen didn't know what any of it meant.Sour Grapes called Donovan over to where Helen sat.
“How are we doing, Cranberry?”
“We are exactly where you need us to be.The target has responded, the followers are dog piling on, and the views have made it go viral in less than two hours,” Helen said.“Next steps?”
Tiffany watched the screen.“I will teach once, and then you two will work independently,” she explained.
For Cranberry, she had Helen follow her to a closet where she removed two twenty-four-inch monitors.She removed a nineteen-inch monitor and passed it to Donovan.She removed two keyboards, passing them out like they were about to head out on a hacking assignment for junior internet geeks.
“Cranberry, I'm sorry to do this, but your workstation will be your bedroom,” she said.“To keep order and routine for Bella, to see such a setup in the primary living space...well, we don't want anything to disturb her routine.Mr.Donovan, there is a space in the basement my father used for a home office.It is warm and has a gas fireplace, and you will be comfortable there while we sort this matter.”
“Basement, okay,” he said, looking about the space.Helen set the monitors by the chair where she was currently seated.Tiffany hovered over her.
“First thing we want to do is look at the commenters under the stalker,” Tiffany said.“We want to identify the most vociferous, then the ones without an avatar.Those, we target first.”
Helen pointed at the screen, “Like this one, Jule336798?No image, just a grey spot.Is this a bot?”
“Right click on it to see the code,” Tiffany said, “Right there where it says inspect.That's what you want to see.Search the code, and if you see...that!Right there.This is a bot.”
Wide eyes stared at the screen.Helen asked, “What do we do now?”
“We feed it to my locusts,” Tiffany said.“However, first we need to go dark.We can enter the dark web through Tor or Ahmia, so let's do that first.Then go back into the account, find the bot again, then enter this into the source code.”
“What does your locust do?”Donovan asked.
“The same thing locusts do in the real world.It will graze and devour until it can find no other food source then hibernate until the eating is good once more,” Tiffany explained.“This afternoon, the role for the two of you is to allow my locusts to eat the bots she's created.Mr.Turnbull, set yourself up in the basement to get started.Go back to your old postings, look for patterns.Identify the patterns and speech modulations in the postings and tackle those.Cranberry, work from your room, keep an eye on the current posts.Feed my locusts.”
“On it,” Helen said.
“Dinner is at five; be washed and cleaned up and ready to eat,” Tiffany said.“Any questions?”
“No,” they both said, gathering their toys and preparing to head to their rooms.
