The Thorne at My Side

CHAPTER 7

Not the worst idea.

MAGGIE

I bite my bottom lip as I reread the message from DCFox last night and my response. I feel like a teenager trying to mind-meld my crush into kissing me. But instead of sitting across from Cole MacDonald in some musty basement, I'm standing in my 370 square foot studio apartment, alone, and staring down at a phone.

Sam and I exchanged some texts last night and agreed to get an early start at the office this morning. She's going to meet me at Sunrise and then we're going to get on the metro together. The Senator has asked us to come in for a meeting at 10 and we're not sure what it's about.

"So, how are things going with the SMS Connect guy?" Sam asks as we reach the station.

"Good, really good, I feel like we had a breakthrough."

"Really? What kind?"

"We both admitted to having bad days," I say over my shoulder as I pass through the turnstile.

"And that was a breakthrough? You know everyone has bad days."

"Yes Sam, I know that, but so far we've only exchanged positive things or neutral things like our favorite movies. And I realized I was always editing out any negative tone. I'd put a positive spin on everything. But we also haven't shared personal stuff so if I was talking about work it was always in general statements."

"And your last message was negative?"

"I mean, no not really, but I got the sense from his message last night that he'd had a bad day, or that he was in his head about something so I admitted that I was feeling the same."

"And what are you in your head about? The AI stuff?"

"Yes, and the fact that Austin Thorne was in my orbit not once but twice on the day that he announced AI Media. That feels like an omen.”

"I did some reading about it, and it's a pretty smart set up." Sam says as we step onto the train.

"How so?"

"Well, they're going to leverage the reach of their media side to put out messages and news. And then they'll create shorts and content that will be related to news but not exactly news."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say something goes viral, something about a man dismissing women's sports."

"I'm annoyed already but go on."

"The AI software will pull quotes and responses by following hashtags and the trail of shares. Their product will write articles and make videos to post to social media."

"Are they whipping up fake accounts to post these on?"

Sam levels me with a knowing look. "They could pay one person to post it and then hope people make it their own. Hope that people stitch it or share it. And by the time it's made the rounds no one will care that AI generated the content. "

"I hate that it's true, but it is." I admit.

"But that's not all of it. There's an application of the software they're selling on a private basis. It wasn't highly publicized yesterday."

"What is it?" I knew her opposition research skills were top notch.

"It's a personalized content generation tool. Basically they will create a database of a public figure's past speeches and public comments and then the software will create new speeches and responses based on a simple prompt. The tool can be set to factor in the audience too so the message it produces will really hit home."

We slip into silence because neither of us needs to say it out-loud. She just described our jobs. And there’s the chance AIM can do it better than we can because it bypasses all the human emotional trap-falls we face when writing impassioned speeches.

“Is your eye okay?” Sam asks.

I reach up and press along my eye socket that still twitches under the pressure.

“Yeah, just the physical manifestation of my stress.”

“You need to bang it out.”

“What?”

“Bang it out? Have sex? The horizontal tango? Doing it? Getting laid? Shagging, nailing, boning? Buttering the biscuit?”

“Ew, I hate food ones.”

“You shouldn’t, sex can be a feast if it’s done right.” Sam explains as she gets a far off wistful look in her eyes. “I don’t care what you call it but you should be banging regularly. Especially between now and the election when tensions are high.”

“There is no way I have the time or the mental capacity to date anyone right now.”

“I’m not saying date, I’m saying doin’. Get yourself a fuck buddy. No strings, just sex.” She pauses. “Unless getting tied up is your thing then all the strings but no feelings.”

“I don’t know.” I say with a shake of my head. I’ve never been one for sex for the hell of it. I’ve had long term boyfriends in the past and even though I knew they wouldn't last, I liked the consistency of a relationship. For now, my hand seems to be doing fine enough.

“Well I do. Just try it and see if it helps.”

Both of us spend the rest of our commute in our own thoughts.

I'm trying to figure out how I can stay employed if a computer is gunning for my job and can customize a message as well as I can.

So much of what I do early on with a politician is establish their voice. Work with them on their tone. Advise them on the differences in a campaign rally crowd and a trade group assembly. How their messages are going to be received in each arena.

While my professional future hangs in the balance, I can’t seem to get Sam’s sex-for-stress-relief idea out of my head. In fact, every time my eye twitches I’ve done a quick kegel which seems to help a little bit but it’s a short-term solution.

When we surface at Union Station we make our way towards the Dirksen building. I decide to shake off my defeated mindset because I'm not out of the game yet. The dreaded AI Media hasn’t even launched. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The senator has a debate coming up and we've got a lot of work to do.

◆◆◆

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Maggie!" Sam whisper-scolds from my left.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but with all due respect, what were you thinking? I know you said yesterday you were bringing in some support but I didn’t think it would be this!"

"I understand this is a surprise Maggie, but it is an opportunity I can't pass up.” Senator Quinn says calmly. Too calmly. Like maybe the deep state has something on her and they’re forcing her into this. I’m tempted to ask her to blink twice if she needs help.

“So, to clarify, you've contracted with AI Media on custom content for the rest of the campaign?"

"Yes, starting with the debate next week.” She folds her hands on the table in front of her. I don’t think that’s a universal distress signal.

“Why?" The senator blinks at my candor. I’ve never been this blunt with her, or anyone.

"Maggie, I can see that you're having trouble with this information but the AI Media team is coming in tomorrow to start the background work. They've promised me they can get everything into the system by next Tuesday and they'll be able to craft real-time responses for me during the debate."

"You're going to use them during the debate?"

"Yes, along with your prepared statements and rebuttals, I'll have a tablet with me and they'll be sending me lines to use based on audience response and who is tuned in."

"I, umm, okay." I can feel myself blinking hard but the nightmare I find myself in isn't ending.

"Thank you Senator," Sam says.

"Yes, thanks." I say on an exhale. With a nod, Senator Quinn dismisses us from her office and we step out into the hall and close her door.

Sam and I trudge to the office we share in silence.

“This is about as bad as it could get.” Sam says as she sits down across from me.

This is the first time in my entire career that I’ve felt well and truly lost. There have been challenges and setbacks of course but my mind has always spun up solutions immediately. A next step appears and I move towards it. In the courtroom you can hit pause if something unexpected comes to light. In politics? The hurricane keeps coming and the eye of the storm is a false sense of security.

And I’ve never been up against a computer.

Or a man as charming as Austin Thorne.

C’mon Maggie, regroup.

I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to give up now. I’ll come through stronger. I’ll make my name being the woman who bested AI and considering how white male biased AI is, my victory will be one for all womankind.

I pace back and forth, amping myself up. I've got this. I've been training for this my entire career. I'm the best damn speech writer this town has ever seen. It’s time to get to work.

◆◆◆

Sam and I spend the rest of the day working on the senator's opening remarks for the debate. She'll have three minutes and we need to grab attention, make people fall in love with her, and get her policy ideas across. It's a tough assignment but together we are making good progress.

After a thirty minute debate over whether “change” or “reform” was the best word to use, we decided to call it a day. Sam met up with some friends and I went straight home and changed into my workout clothes.

Usually I run in the morning but I know if I don't hit the pavement now I'll be restless all night.

I put my headphones in and head for the river. It's further than my usual route but I need a change of pace.