It all felt wrong.
Maybe I was uniquely qualified. Motivated by my own self-interest and so disconnected that even if I wanted to sell this IP to the highest bidder, then spend the rest of my life staying off the grid, I wouldn’t have a clue how to do either. It still didn’t make me the best choice, as motivation and competence tend to have an inverse relationship in most people.
For someone of Dietrich’s capability, his upload was scant. A record verifying Dietrich’s ownership immediately after the NFT was minted. Like an item was created from nothing, then given a unique digital signature. The asset, an encrypted storage device containing proprietary data, was then transferred to a USPS courier named Tarasov for delivery to a Naxos contractor. The device never arrived and there was concern this courier had the capability to off-load the information to a competitor. The only useful information from Dietrich was a digital image of Tarasov from his USPS employee file.
I cast the information from my phone to the tablet in the Tesla. The larger screen didn’t help the facts of the case, but only presented more questions. How does someone with Dietrich’s resources not have Recog footage of Tarasov? He had a record of the last 24 hours of my life, but he let some second-rate courier disappear with millions in company research? Stranger still, Tarasov had yet to be paid. USPS was one of those “pay up front and hope for the best” type organizations, not the kind that cared about customer satisfaction. I’ve yet to meet a USPS courier who accepted payment on the back end, as most knew the assets they transported were questionable at best and illicit at worst. And why would a company this large transfer sensitive data to a contractor using a courier service? Cloud storage was the norm and anyone affiliated with Naxos would have access, including a contractor.
I tapped the screen and pulled up an aerial view of Dietrich’s condo. Parked in front was a black Tesla and a busy sidewalk. I rewound the footage and watched as I slowly backed into the condos, then backed out. I skipped to the day of the hand off and switched to the Recog cam above the entrance. It was quiet in the evening with minimal movement in and out of the condos. The afternoon and morning were busier, but no one matching Tarasov entered the building. Neither did anyone wearing standard USPS long coats or insignia. Just residents and visitors with obvious wealth.
“What the hell?”
The screen appeared to glitch. I slowed the video, then let it play at normal speed. A car pulled up across the street, the windows tinted, obscuring the identity of the driver. The footage scrambled, then returned to normal, but the car had disappeared. I played it back again and again. At 2:08 AM, the car arrives. The video scrambles from 2:10 AM until 2:17 AM, then returns to normal with the car missing. Recog glitches are common, but not one lasting seven minutes. I switched back to aerial footage during that window. The car arrives again at 2:08 AM, the video scrambles from 2:10 AM to 2:17 AM. In the next frame, the car was missing. A feeling of unease settled in my gut. I panned the aerial view prior to the car arriving, the footage from the surrounding city blocks was scrambled. It was the same after 2:17 AM. The same occurred at street view from every Recog cam on every building in a five-block radius. I tried to access footage from the interior lobby of the condo, but was met with “Invalid Credentials”. Unease escalated to anxiety.
I entertained the thought of going back in for another conversation with Dietrich, but I’d only waste time. I pulled away from the Current and called the only person who still answered. Sometimes.
The call rang through the car. And rang. And rang.
“This is early.”
Esme’s voice traveled soft through the speakers.
“I need your help.”
"... as motivation and competence tend to have an inverse relationship in most people." Right you are, Mr Smith! And I might add EGO vis a vis COMPETENCE, as well. As exemplified in our federal politicians... sigh. Some of your tech jargon is a bit over my head - but who cares? I am IN. Don't stop.