Kim Robinson - Fifty Degrees Below

She curled against him. Frank warmed to her manner, her physical grace, her affection. It was different with her, it just was.

But she wasn’t free. Her situation was compromised, even scary. She was breaking promises both personal and professional. That in itself didn’t bother Frank as perhaps it should have, because she was doing it for him, and because of him; so how could he fault her for it? Especially since she also made him feel that somehow he deserved these moves, that she liked him for real reasons. That she was right to do what she was doing, because of the way he was to her. Reciprocity: hard to believe; but there she was, in his arms.

The world seeped back. A distant streetlight winked on the breeze.

“You’re staying with those friends again?”

She nodded into his shoulder. Her body felt like she was falling asleep. He found this very moving; he could not remember the last time a woman had fallen asleep in his arms. He thought: maybe this is what it would be like. You would only ever know by doing it.

“Hey gal. What if one of your friends wakes up in the night?”

“I leave a note on the couch, saying that I couldn’t sleep and went for a run.”

“Ah.”

It was interesting to think of friends who would believe that, and what it said about her.

“But I should start back in a while.”

“Damn.”

She sighed. “We need to talk.”

“Good.”

“Tell me—do you think elections matter?”

“What? Well, sure. I mean, what do you mean?”

“I mean, do you think they really matter?”

“Hmmm,” Frank said.

“Because I’m not sure they do. I think they’re just a kind of theater, you know, designed to distract people from how things are really decided.”

“You sound like some of my colleagues at work.”

“I’m being very scientific, I’m sure.” Her smile was brief and perfunctory. “You know this futures market I’m supervising?”

“Sure. What, are they betting on the election now?”

“Of course, but you can do that anywhere. What my group is betting on has more to do with potential side-effects of the election. Or, now I’m thinking it’s more like causes.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are people who can have an influence on the results.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, a group involved with voting-machine technology.”

“Uh oh. You mean like tweaking them somehow?”

“Exactly.”

“So your futures market is now going bullish on certain people involved with voting technology?”

“That’s right. And not only that, but some of those people are my husband and his colleagues.”

“He’s not doing what you’re doing?”

“Not anymore. He’s moved again, and his new job is part of this stuff. This group may even be the originators of it.”

“A government agency working on fixing elections? How can that be?”

“That’s the way it’s evolved. The voting system is vulnerable to tampering, so there are agencies trying to figure out every way it can happen, so they can counter them. They pass that up the chain to be used, and then one of the more politicized agencies takes that information and makes sure it gets into the right hands at the right time. And there you have it.”

“You sound like it’s happened already before?”

“I think the Cleland Senate loss in Georgia looks very suspicious.”

“How come that isn’t a huge scandal?”

“The best evidence is in a classified study. Meanwhile, since it’s been a rumor, it’s treated like all the other rumors, many of which are wrong. So actually, to have the idea of something broached without any subsequent repercussion is actually a kind of, what. A kind of inoculation for an event you don’t want investigated.”

“Jesus. So how does it work, do you know?”

“Not the technical details, no. I know they target certain counties in swing states. They use various statistical models and decision-tree algorithms to pick which ones, and how much to intervene.”

“I’d like to see this algorithm.”

“Yes, I thought you might.” She reached into her purse, pulled out a data disk in a paper sleeve. She handed it to him. “This is it.”

“Whoah,” Frank said, staring at it. “And so … What should I do with it?”

“I thought you might have some friends at NSF who might be able to put it to use.”

“Shit. I don’t know.”

She watched him take it in.

“Do you think it matters?” she asked again.

“What, who wins the election, or whether there’s cheating?”

“Both. Either.”

“Well. I should think election fraud is always bad.”

“I suppose.”

“How could it not be?”

“I don’t know. It’s seems like it’s been mostly cheating for a while now. Or theater at best. Distracting people from where the decisions are really made.”

“But something like this would be more than theater.”

“So you think it does matter.”

“Well… yeah.” Frank was a little shocked that she would even wonder about it. “It’s the law. I mean, the rule of law. Lawful practice.”

“I suppose so.” She shrugged. “I mean, here I am giving this to you, so I must think so too. So, well—can you help fix it?”

He hefted the CD in its sleeve. “Fix the fix?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to, sure. I don’t know if I can.”

“It’d be a matter of programming I guess. Reprogramming.”

“Some kind of reverse transcription.”

“Sounds good. I can’t do it. I can see what’s happening, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“You know but can’t act.”

“Yeah that’s right.”

“But you did this. So I’ll see what I can do, sure. There must be an activation code tucked in the normal voting technology. There’s any number of ways to do that. So … maybe it could be tweaked, to disable it. I do have a friend at NSF who does encryption, now that I think of it, and he worked at DARPA. He’s a mathematician, he might be able to help. Does your futures market list him? Edgardo Alfonso?”

“I don’t know. I’ll look.”

“What about anyone else at NSF?”

“Yeah sure. Lots of NSF people. Diane Chang’s stock is pretty high right now, for that matter.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes.” She watched him think it over.

Finally he shrugged. “Maybe saving the world is profitable.”

“Or maybe it’s unprofitable.”

“Hmmmmm. Listen, if you could get me a list of everyone listed in my market, that would be great. If Edgardo isn’t on the list, all the better.”

“I’ll check. He would be discreet?”

“Yes. He’s a friend, I trust him. And to tell the truth, he would greatly enjoy hearing about this.”

She laughed, surprised. “He likes bad news?”

“Very much.”

“He must be a happy guy these days.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. But don’t tell too many people about this. Please.”

“No. And the ones I tell won’t need to know how I’ve gotten this, either.”

“Good.”

“But they may need to be able to get back in to this program.”

“Sure, I know. I’ve been thinking about that. It’ll be hard to do without anyone knowing it’s been done.” She scowled. “In fact I can’t think of a good way. I might have to do it. You know. At home.”

“Listen, Caroline,” he said, spooked by the look on her face. “I hope you aren’t taking any chances here!”

She frowned. “What do you think this is? I told you. He’s strange.”

“Shit.” He hugged her hard.

After a while she shrugged in his grasp. “Let’s just do this and see what we see. I’m as clean as I can be. I don’t think he has any idea what I’ve been up to. I’ve made it look like I’m chipped twenty-four seven and that I’m not doing anything. I can only really get offline at night, when he expects me to be sleeping. I leave the whole kit in the bed and then I can do what I need to. Otherwise if I dropped the kit it would show something was wrong. So, you know. So far so good.”