Trust me. If anyone can screw up a plan, it’s Augusta.
[CALL ENDED]
IDENTITY SECURITY DIVISION
WRAITH CASE STUDY: AUGUSTA PINE
THE LAWYERBOT INCIDENT DEBRIEF
The first time I was arrested, I was sixteen.
I met Prefect on a sunny downtown street in Alexandria, Virginia. The neighborhood was a tourist trap—it was all old-fashioned cobblestones and quaint little shops designed to look colonial. Prefect’s black SUV looked thoroughly out of place. He had double-parked, entrapping a car with a private security logo. The owner of said car was a middle-aged white man with a utility belt, a receding hairline, and a frustrated glower. But he didn’t do more than glare at Prefect from a safe distance. He was probably hired by the local homeowners association and knew better than to annoy someone with actual power.
I walked toward Prefect, carrying two to-go cups. “You’re double-parked,” I said.
Prefect shrugged. “I’m allowed.”
“This was, like, seven dollars,” I said, handing him a cup. “The only coffee place had artisanal beans or something like that.”
“I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.” Prefect took his coffee and held it under his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. His expression held the kind of peace and contentment of a man kneeling in church.
I let him have his moment. Exactly one moment. Then I said, “So, why are we here?”
He opened his eyes, and with that, he was all business again.
“Someone’s hacked an app,” he said. “Or so we think. It’s a… delicate situation.”
“Which app did they hack?”
His mouth twisted up at one corner. “Lawyerbot.”
I blinked. “Someone’s hackedLawyerbot?”
“Possibly,” said Prefect. “That’s the thing. We don’t know. We’ve been asked to look into it.”
“Since when does ISD do personal favors?”
“Since the CEO of Lawyerbot is a friend of the head of the Department of Defense,” said Prefect dryly.
“Okay.” I drew out the word. “So the CEO thinks his app has been hacked. Did they find evidence? Leaked emails on the dark web? Missing files? A copycat app?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the security guard walking toward a group of young women in college sweatshirts. Despite what looked like a thirty-year age gap, his body language was flirtatious. I could see his mouth moving, even if I couldn’t hear the words. The young women were instantly wary, edging away from him.
“No,” said Prefect. “The app”—he made the word sound dirty—“has a certain win rate. It is predictable. With the algorithm and experience of those involved, there shouldn’t be any surprises.”
“Oh,” I said, understanding. “They’re losing cases.”
Prefect’s frown deepened. “Actually, they’re winning.”
I gaped at him. “Wait, so the CEO thinks he’s been hacked because his app is doing too well?”
“The app has a tiered payment system,” said Prefect. “There’s the cheapest subscription, the mid-range, and the most expensive. The cheapest one is just an algorithm. The midrange has access to one or two lawyers available for chats, but it’s never the same lawyer. And the most expensive will have a dedicated lawyer for chats, if only for brief consults.”
I took a sip of my coffee. It tasted too bitter. “So, the more money you pay, the better defense you get.”
“Precisely.” Prefect sighed. “But suddenly, the cheapest tier is winning almost eighty percent of its cases.”
“Is that good?” I asked.
He nodded. “Very experienced and educatedhumanlawyers often don’t have such a good win rate. For an algorithm, it’s unheard of. As good as AI can be at some things… the law isn’t one of them.”
