Chapter Twelve

Arline began to lose track of all the coordinates she spied on through the Remote Viewer's Assistant. She worked on a version that includes a folder for images, sketches, and view intelligence. Along with this, she plugged in the zero liability mail system. The Zero Liability mail system worked like this: neither the sender or receiver in each user account knows exactly what they're asking or answering, the administrator holds onto this information.

This ensures that the Sender and Receiver exchange communication without conscious knowledge of their communication. This might seem counter-intuitive, however imagine if ICE police wanted to coerce either the sender or receiver about their exact communication. All they would be able to the the investigator is that they had asked and received an answer. They have zero liability. All the liability is contained between the two administrators that control interaction. One changes every so often what is being asked, and the other simply answers yes or no. There are possibilities of randomly jumbling the answer pattern as well, if the administrator asking the questions turns out to be spook for the Russian government.

Neither administrator holds onto all the communication, and they must share information in person with those they trust. You simply can't trust everyone. Once shared, the communication is promptly encrypted in their folder. They will eventually purge the information from their system, and repeat the process all over again. Arline wasn't sure why she programmed this at first, but it works based on opposite assumptions from the TOR browser, that is intended to make you anonymous. However, Zero Liability makes it so your anonymity isn't even needed.

There is no network to begin with.

One networks in person.

She remote viewed in February on Friday, at 22:24 hours. The coordinates were 6 x and 7 y. She sensed a wet and gooey liquid, this she was able to get right. Yet she had trouble sensing the right location. Until eventually she was able to find a black and white picture of a cliff. She reached her hand out as if to feel the horizon, and stretching her arms out as to balance herself as not to fall. There was a deal here made between enemy and foe, although she was unsure who exactly the foe was. This seemed a little bit far out for the United States to attack, and it didn't seem to be a tribal portion of the African continent. Yet in minds eye she sense conflict coming from far away. And giant helicopters following her foot steps.

She hopped onto the helicopter, knocked out some security guards, and finally disrupted the electronics with her magnetic finger tips.

As the Helicopter, she thought she fell.

Then woke up, dreaming of falling into a pit of death.

It was the second time Arline downed a helicopter in her viewing session. She was becoming nervous about whether the current Far Right GOP would find out about her activities. No matter how often you try to encrypt your content, there is always that narrow possibility that can break the cipher, even when structured in a form similar to a one time pad.

Arline lived a double life; by night she would remote view and spy on those who disrupt the peace of the people. On the other hand, by daylight she explores the nature of her own reality. Between different parts of the real life, there are different targets and goals she has. But she had always had a hard time accomplishing her goals, largely do to lack of motivation. The Boston Clogs she wore were getting old, her needing a new pair in the high arch, and she had recently started not feeling like walking to places, because of the pain in her legs. Sometimes the pain would bother her, at other times it would be almost non existent. Although she liked to spend her time writing poetry, she wasn't much for the flow of free verse.

She lived in her ow universe.

Her own special universe in the larger world that was the macro-verse, the mini-verse in a sea of multi-verses that seem to become farther and farther away beyond the horizon of space.

She wanted had wanted to it all.

Put a bullet in her face.

Yet now as the city-lights glow, and the hour approaches, like an automaton constantly steaming forward like a metro-train, she finds herself mainly writing computer programs: mainly updating the program of her virtual remote control, but also to do minor improvements on her remote viewing local page. She wasn't sure whether the world of on line would take down the images she uploaded. She wrote a user name for the image has as close to anonymous as she could, while still having a name that she could recognize from afar.

She felt like she couldn't see anything from afar.

She was as blind as a mouse.

Arline had tried becoming a game developer, however there was various hurdles. For one, at times the community was outright impenetrable. You could be active there for over three months, and you treated the same way as a newbie. They keep adding new rules to the community board, ones more obscure after the next. Don't expect to come there after four years, and be treated a "long timer" or someone who had participated in the community a while, and become street smart.

Even if one entertained the idea of getting back into game development, the community always gave half ass answers. Often refuges from web comic websites were join there in order to bug the crap out of people that stop hanging out on comic sites. Every new game engine they came out with, became increasingly worse. Whether it was a graphical downgrade or switching to more insecure scripting languages, it seemed like every time they payed for a newer version they were really paying for the right to use lesser software.

Among these reasons, there was others. She tried finding similar software on Linux distributions, but these engines either were not under active development--the engine developer being a whiny asshole who blames people who emails him for the way the overall larger community treats him. Possibly a refuge from the Windows RPG development community, he had grown bitter in the worst possible way, losing every last bits of his own humanity. The windows gave development community was like a vortex, it gradually consuming all your motivation in a single swoop. It wasn't like writer's block at all, but almost worse. The motivation to even restart the interest is completely gone, made worse by abusive room mates who seemed to have a very narrow definition of the word gamer. And other engines were good, but at times had window screens that exceeded the size of Linux Mint.

Code developer's lament.

She tried programming some of her game engines, but at the times she was forced to move to Washington. Here by the time they got to the, lets be generous, rustic motel that was a dive, she would spend all time horking and coughing up goop, because of her smoking habit it was impossible to concentrate on anything. She even got Arline to start smoking herself.

Certain aspects of this Windows game engine were impossible to crack, made worse by that communities tendency to make up special rules for itself about what is considered good programming. And so there went her interest in JRPGs completely. And her remaining interest in the Japanese also eventually went by the way side from a mixture of bad information and good information blending into the kind of confusing mess that would make the Bible have clarity to an Atheist.

She eventually focused on Ruby.

Now she makes Spy systems.





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