Crushed

    The SSA was in control. We had cracked the GCAM case and were just a few days away from the "National Unofficial Write an Eight Day." Our proxy war with GCAM was progressing well, especially after turning over the tapes to our allies in jVn. With an anti-spy contract in place, SSA-GCAM relations were warming once again. Meanwhile, the SSA was tabling jVn for a potential Babbling Brook Mall summit, buoyed by our renewed goodwill and the spy contract. The entire situation was going as well as could be expected, and I was set to return to Energizer High’s students on Saturday for a robotics competition.

    I posted documents about my situation on CSM and Reddit, and responses came flooding in. Reddit was unhelpful, but CSM proved more sympathetic to my cause. CSM truly was the best social site—it allowed me to connect with others on a deeply personal level. It even enabled me to recruit teen agents to work with me and spun off a new SSA group, where GCAM’s tales would be debunked and new strategies would be brainstormed.

    As my foot touched down at the school, I was overcome with excitement. This was the only time I’d really be out of the house, and I was in a much larger school. The nearly three-thousand-person campus was huge, and I wondered who the student council president was. The possibilities for espionage and chases were endless here, with the large auditorium, long halls, and impressive student body. I passed trophy case after trophy case until I found the room with the robots. Shawn and I were scouts, walking around and noting each robot’s specifications and team number.

    As we conversed, I checked my CSM notifications. People were excited about the robotics team, and comments were still pouring in about how I could accomplish my summit. But time was running out. I’d graduate in a few weeks and still hadn’t achieved what I’d set out to do. I felt really, really lonely. The only thing keeping me from going totally insane—amid investigations nobody cared about and a lack of people to talk to (either because they didn’t care or because what I had to say involved them)—was CSM, which remained isolated from the rest of my life.

    I flashed back to the beginning of the season when a CSM user, Noone, tried to doxx me and expose me on the site. Fortunately, CSM put an end to that, and my time at the competition went well. I tapped the screen to note the height of a robot when, out of nowhere, a girl approached. “Can I take a selfie with you two?” We nervously shuffled into frame, and she clicked the shutter on her white iPhone 13 Mini. “Thanks.” “She definitely has a crush on you, Shawn.” “LOL.”

    We headed back into the auditorium to see the competition kick off and started recording data. “Hi, Allie.” “Hi, Ethan. Is it my turn to scout?” “Almost.” After the opening ceremony and national anthem, the robots were off. By lunchtime, our team was doing well. I checked CSM again and noticed more and more accounts were being banned for being “underage,” though mine and Clara’s were still online and would probably stay that way. Over lunch, I told Allie and Shawn my plan, subtly hinting that they could invite me along if they wanted. “So, Shawn, you were at Allie’s house again?” “Yeah, I walked by and played some basketball with some of the other kids.” “Fun.” “Do you like going to the mall?” “Yeah, sometimes.” “I’m making a plan to see if I can get approval.” I showed him the plan, and he seemed mildly interested, but it was time to go back inside.

    “I’m gonna get a snack, Ethan.” “I’ll come with you. Allie, save us some seats.” “Okay.” As we checked out the food, our team’s robot was powering through. A few more wins, and we’d secure a spot in the playoffs. The competition was exciting, and we made it to the playoffs. Our scouting work paid off—the team was doing incredibly well. I posted an update to CSM about some kid who was yapping about “racism” at the competition, and people were amused. I went back to check the comments and saw an email.

    “Your account has been banned.” I emailed back, shocked and horrified. The cheers of the team faded, muted and dulled, as we won. My friends and connections had been ripped away from me. I was dejected—Operation Babbling Brook might never happen. My special agents and tips were gone. Defeated, I returned to base and taped a podcast episode, vowing that this would never happen again and promising to return to the site. I swore to create a new platform, one that would never be shut down.

    SSA intelligence made a new decision: to focus on Reddit. So, all my questions went there. Unfortunately, the Christian bent of CSM was replaced by the unchristian tone of Reddit, and the advice and debates I got were all trash. It was time for a change—time to get information about how things really worked. And I knew just the person.