door. Oops.
Brrrrrrring!
A new message notification popped on my screen. Amazing that my phone worked so well in the garage. “Please click on video chat link sent to your email from WheedWackerPony.” The creativity with some of these bizarre online names astounded me.
The link on my phone opened up on my browser, cycling through a series of redirected URLs. This happened a dozen times before I landed on a screen with a static picture of a My Little Pony. The rainbow one, Rainbow Dash? She had swirly black-and-white eyes, like she was being hypnotized. Very dizzying, yet calming. I shut my eyes, in case this was a weird plan to put me under a hypnotic spell and steal my bank account number.
The screen switched from Rainbow Dash to a gender-ambiguous silhouette. A voice that sounded like Morgan Freeman boomed from my speakerphone.
“Melody Joo! We have a question for you. What justice do you seek?”
Could anyone bring justice for what had happened to me? An online troll mob was out for my blood. Justice would be for all these monsters to quit hiding behind the cloak of anonymity and show their faces, and then get locked away forever by the police or FBI. But that wasn’t ever going to happen.
“Um, I’m new to all this. What sort of justice are you able to get me?”
Morgan Freeman answered, “We at the Justice Brigade believe in . . . well, getting justice. You have been viciously attacked online, and you have restrained yourself from responding or going on the counterattack. We respect your restraint.”
Interrupting Morgan Freeman to mention the company’s gag order didn’t feel appropriate. I’d bring that up another time, maybe.
The baritone voice continued. “We can help you. We want to help you. Many of your attackers have been problematic before, and we now have the resources and tools to figure out who these persons are behind the pseudonyms and avatars. We can trace IPs, hack into the gaming message boards, and dox these assholes right back, too.” It was weird to hear Morgan Freeman say those words.
I looked down and caught myself wringing my hands. “This is all so impressive and I appreciate your willingness to help. But I’m extremely risk averse.” In fact, so risk averse that I drove the speed limit exactly and always paid parking tickets and taxes months in advance. What the hell am I doing with these rulebreakers? “Is everything you’re doing within the confines of the law?”
She laughed hard. “Melody, you are very funny. You don’t worry. We’ll get you justice. We can figure out the identities of these assholes and we’ll take full credit for bringing them down. You don’t even have to take part in anything.”
“So that’s basically a no then.”
This whole idea of fighting evil with more evil didn’t seem to be the best way to handle this. Like drinking black coffee on an empty stomach, an acidic uneasiness in the pit of my gut presented itself physically. A wave of nausea hit. “Um, Miss WheedWacker, before you publish anything, could you let me know what you find first? Then maybe we, I mean you, can decide what to do with that information. I want to see who we’re dealing with, like if it’s an eighty-year-old granny from Kansas, or a twelve-year-old schoolgirl from Osaka, I’d be less excited about retaliation on those types of people.”
She paused before answering. “Yes. That is an acceptable arrangement. We’ll bring the info to you as it comes in, as you requested,” said Morgan Freeman. “We’ve actually already tracked down a few IP addresses since we’ve been on the phone with you. We should have some verified identities revealed in the next few hours.”
“Wow! Thank you so much. I mean it.” Although this path we were taking felt a little uncertain, it was nice to have people rallying around me. Even if they were hackers flying under the radar of the authorities. “Also, since you’re investigating, could you find out who leaked the original info to BetaGank in the first place? The person who started the shit tsunami?”
“It might be difficult, but we will try. You’re a friend of Candace, so you’re a friend of ours.” The call ended, and I headed back upstairs, feeling more optimistic. Finally, I was regaining control of my life again.
COMING BACK FROM a quick walk to clear my head, someone bellowed “Hold the elevator!” as the doors nearly closed. Feeling generous, and lucky enough to mash the door open button instead