53.6 \ 235

“What do these rumors tell of?” King Vario grabbed onto the next topic.

“They’re on the crest of a wave of communication flotsam that’s hard to track, because our usual channels are shut down the same way theirs are. There are moments of coherence that allow glimpses of corroboration.”

“We have newly designed layers of surveillance working now, out through the net prism. Are you working with this data?” asked King Vario.

“No, I’m intentionally looking elsewhere. The usual rays of the prism are heavily fractured, and I won’t get more from that than you can yourself.”

“Do you have records and files?”

“What I have is my report. Information of this kind is strange and different where I’m looking. It’s harder to capture.” The official refrained from trotting out all the gory details of mafunctioning screen photo, impenetrable and unmodifiable code, all recordings blackout. It would not be of interest, it was instantly boring information, and of dubious credulity even to the most knowledgable. Raving to the uninitiated. “In short summary, there is a concerted cadre of establishment attackers, explaining why this situation is, uh,” Roznmyk touched her face, “actually the fault of our government.” The newest packet dropped just yesterday, and it has usually taken a few days for people to readjust their theories. Roznmyk knew people were working on it without her. They were highly motivated – not just by boredom, but also by rewards of confirming information, seeded strategically or serendipitously. The packets were often signed in disappearing ink, or the code equivalent thereof, from names who had built credibility, despite possibly being from among the enemies throttling entire neighborhoods.

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