twenty-one
According to the signs on the road, we’re only 23 miles away from a city called Hopkinsville. We don’t know how big it is, but if it’s on a road sign, it’s probably big enough to have a library, right?
“It’s okay,” I assure Pam as we get closer. “Nobody’s going to be suspicious of three teenagers walking into a library. People will probably just think we’re doing research for a school assignment or something. Nobody will be paying any attention to us.”
“Except the computer.”
“It’s not a living thing, Pam. It won’t rat us out to Dermott.”
Except, what if Pam’s right and it somehow can?
We turn off the first exit leading in to the city, then pull into a gas station so we can ask for directions. Jeremy is the one to go inside this time, and when he comes out, he tells Pam the name of the street the library is on. Pam finds it on the map and navigates us there.
The woman at the welcome desk gives us a big smile when we walk in, and this gives me the confidence to walk over and talk to her. “Hi,” I say. “My friends and I need to do some research; is there a computer we can use?”
The smiling woman directs us over to an alcove in the corner, which is lined with desktop computers in separate cubicles. Perfect. She shows us how to log in and tells us that there’s a 30-minute login period per session, but if our time expires, we can just log in again. “Let me know if you need help with anything,” she says, going back to her station.
Jeremy and I have a short scuffle over who gets to control the mouse and the keyboard, while Pam hangs back, watching the computer as if it’s going to explode at any moment.
“Pam,” I hiss as Jeremy wins the scuffle and sits down in the chair that’s there. I pull over the two chairs from the adjacent cubicles so Pam and I can sit next to him. “You have to stop acting like you’ve never seen a computer before. It’s suspicious!”
“But I haven’t ever seen a computer before,” she whispers.
“And you’re probably the only twenty-first century American teenager who that’s the case for. So stop making it so obvious.”
Jeremy logs in to the computer and pulls up Google. The first words he types in are Dermott Tech. Pam sucks in a quick breath.
I lean in to see what links pulled up. There’s no company website or Wikipedia page, just some guy’s LinkedIn profile and some company called “McDermott.” I almost want to joke to Jeremy that “McDermott” must be where we were when we saw my face on the news, but I don’t. For all I know, maybe that McDonalds really was under surveillance from Dermott.
Jeremy continues scrolling. None of the links look like what we’re looking for. He tries a new search query: Dermott Tech company TVs. He looks at Pam. “I spelled Dermott correctly, right?”
She nods.
Jeremy hits Enter, and a page of new results show up. “Top 10 Best Satellite TV Providers in Dermott, AR” is at the top of the list, followed by similar Web pages.
“Do you think Dermott Tech was founded in Arkansas?” I ask. “Is that where the name came from? Or do you think it’s just a coincidence?”
“Probably a coincidence,” said Jeremy. “But you never know.” He clicks on the “Dermott, AR” page and we browse through it, but find nothing of interest.
“Try searching something else,” I suggest. “Like…” I glance at Pam and an idea pops into my head. “How about ‘Dermott Tech surveillance’ or something like that?”
Jeremy keys in the term. More results for Dermott, Arkansas show up, as well as a listing of surveillance jobs in McDermott, Ohio.
“It’s weird,” Jeremy comments, going back to the search bar and clicking in it, but not typing anything. “They’re a company like Sony or Panasonic, right? So you’d think there’d be at least some results for them, even if they’re not that well-known. We should at least be able to find a company website or something.”
“Maybe they went out of business?” I venture.
“Even out-of-business companies still have some traces online,” says Jeremy, but he types in Dermott tech company out of business and hits Enter.
“That one!” I say excitedly, pointing to the third result, which is labeled Scandal Leads Small Tech Company to Go Bankrupt. The preview text below the clickable link reads CEO Taylor P. Dermott stated that the company will be going out of business due to…
Jeremy clicks on the link. A short news article pulls up, along with a picture of several technological devices.
I lean forward to read the article.
Dermott Tech, a small Wisconsin-based technology company known for their affordable prices and prompt customer service, had just started expanding their distribution across the United States when they found themselves in hot water.
CEO Taylor P. Dermott stated that the company will be going out of business due to a shortage of funds, but this announcement came right after Dermott Tech products were discovered to have been taking audio and video recordings of customers without their knowledge, and then selling these recordings to the highest bidder. Dermott refused to be interviewed about the matter and gave no comments confirming or denying these charges.
A product recall has been issued for all Dermott Tech products, effective immediately.
Decisions are being made about legal proceedings for Dermott Tech and its employees.
“Dermott was selling videos of people to whoever was willing to pay the most?” I ask, appalled. “Why? Who would pay to watch videos of people doing random stuff inside their homes?”
“Data collectors, I guess?” said Jeremy. “Or maybe private investigators, or, like… hit men?”
I shiver.
“I don’t feel like this article really told us much,” Jeremy complains. “So they went out of business, which we kind of already knew, since we’d never heard of them. And they were spying on people from their devices, which is basically what we figured out from what Pam told us. So… what did we learn here?”
“We learned… the CEO’s name,” I realize. “Could that be helpful? Could she be the one who’s been going after Dad and Bill?”
“Maybe,” says Jeremy. “That doesn’t explain why she’s going after them, though.”
“Maybe they were the ones who first found out that the technology was spying on everyone?” suggests Pam, speaking up for the first time since we logged in to the computer.
I consider that. “That kind of makes sense,” I say slowly. “If they were the ones who told the authorities, then that would explain why the Dermott people don’t like them.”
Jeremy keys the name Taylor P Dermott into the Google search bar.
The first result that pulls up is a Facebook profile. We click on it eagerly, but the girl in the pictures looks way too young to be the CEO of a company that went out of business years ago.
We scroll through the rest of the results on the first page. When nothing seems promising there, we move on to the second page. On that page is the same article we just read about Dermott Tech going out of business. “Maybe try ‘Taylor Dermott CEO?’” I suggest.
Jeremy types it in, but it doesn’t help. He tries typing a few more queries, all involving either Taylor P Dermott or Dermott Tech, but nothing reveals anything for us beyond the short article we’ve already found.
It’s as if Dermott Tech never existed.
“It’s okay,” I assure Pam as we get closer. “Nobody’s going to be suspicious of three teenagers walking into a library. People will probably just think we’re doing research for a school assignment or something. Nobody will be paying any attention to us.”
“Except the computer.”
“It’s not a living thing, Pam. It won’t rat us out to Dermott.”
Except, what if Pam’s right and it somehow can?
We turn off the first exit leading in to the city, then pull into a gas station so we can ask for directions. Jeremy is the one to go inside this time, and when he comes out, he tells Pam the name of the street the library is on. Pam finds it on the map and navigates us there.
The woman at the welcome desk gives us a big smile when we walk in, and this gives me the confidence to walk over and talk to her. “Hi,” I say. “My friends and I need to do some research; is there a computer we can use?”
The smiling woman directs us over to an alcove in the corner, which is lined with desktop computers in separate cubicles. Perfect. She shows us how to log in and tells us that there’s a 30-minute login period per session, but if our time expires, we can just log in again. “Let me know if you need help with anything,” she says, going back to her station.
Jeremy and I have a short scuffle over who gets to control the mouse and the keyboard, while Pam hangs back, watching the computer as if it’s going to explode at any moment.
“Pam,” I hiss as Jeremy wins the scuffle and sits down in the chair that’s there. I pull over the two chairs from the adjacent cubicles so Pam and I can sit next to him. “You have to stop acting like you’ve never seen a computer before. It’s suspicious!”
“But I haven’t ever seen a computer before,” she whispers.
“And you’re probably the only twenty-first century American teenager who that’s the case for. So stop making it so obvious.”
Jeremy logs in to the computer and pulls up Google. The first words he types in are Dermott Tech. Pam sucks in a quick breath.
I lean in to see what links pulled up. There’s no company website or Wikipedia page, just some guy’s LinkedIn profile and some company called “McDermott.” I almost want to joke to Jeremy that “McDermott” must be where we were when we saw my face on the news, but I don’t. For all I know, maybe that McDonalds really was under surveillance from Dermott.
Jeremy continues scrolling. None of the links look like what we’re looking for. He tries a new search query: Dermott Tech company TVs. He looks at Pam. “I spelled Dermott correctly, right?”
She nods.
Jeremy hits Enter, and a page of new results show up. “Top 10 Best Satellite TV Providers in Dermott, AR” is at the top of the list, followed by similar Web pages.
“Do you think Dermott Tech was founded in Arkansas?” I ask. “Is that where the name came from? Or do you think it’s just a coincidence?”
“Probably a coincidence,” said Jeremy. “But you never know.” He clicks on the “Dermott, AR” page and we browse through it, but find nothing of interest.
“Try searching something else,” I suggest. “Like…” I glance at Pam and an idea pops into my head. “How about ‘Dermott Tech surveillance’ or something like that?”
Jeremy keys in the term. More results for Dermott, Arkansas show up, as well as a listing of surveillance jobs in McDermott, Ohio.
“It’s weird,” Jeremy comments, going back to the search bar and clicking in it, but not typing anything. “They’re a company like Sony or Panasonic, right? So you’d think there’d be at least some results for them, even if they’re not that well-known. We should at least be able to find a company website or something.”
“Maybe they went out of business?” I venture.
“Even out-of-business companies still have some traces online,” says Jeremy, but he types in Dermott tech company out of business and hits Enter.
“That one!” I say excitedly, pointing to the third result, which is labeled Scandal Leads Small Tech Company to Go Bankrupt. The preview text below the clickable link reads CEO Taylor P. Dermott stated that the company will be going out of business due to…
Jeremy clicks on the link. A short news article pulls up, along with a picture of several technological devices.
I lean forward to read the article.
Dermott Tech, a small Wisconsin-based technology company known for their affordable prices and prompt customer service, had just started expanding their distribution across the United States when they found themselves in hot water.
CEO Taylor P. Dermott stated that the company will be going out of business due to a shortage of funds, but this announcement came right after Dermott Tech products were discovered to have been taking audio and video recordings of customers without their knowledge, and then selling these recordings to the highest bidder. Dermott refused to be interviewed about the matter and gave no comments confirming or denying these charges.
A product recall has been issued for all Dermott Tech products, effective immediately.
Decisions are being made about legal proceedings for Dermott Tech and its employees.
“Dermott was selling videos of people to whoever was willing to pay the most?” I ask, appalled. “Why? Who would pay to watch videos of people doing random stuff inside their homes?”
“Data collectors, I guess?” said Jeremy. “Or maybe private investigators, or, like… hit men?”
I shiver.
“I don’t feel like this article really told us much,” Jeremy complains. “So they went out of business, which we kind of already knew, since we’d never heard of them. And they were spying on people from their devices, which is basically what we figured out from what Pam told us. So… what did we learn here?”
“We learned… the CEO’s name,” I realize. “Could that be helpful? Could she be the one who’s been going after Dad and Bill?”
“Maybe,” says Jeremy. “That doesn’t explain why she’s going after them, though.”
“Maybe they were the ones who first found out that the technology was spying on everyone?” suggests Pam, speaking up for the first time since we logged in to the computer.
I consider that. “That kind of makes sense,” I say slowly. “If they were the ones who told the authorities, then that would explain why the Dermott people don’t like them.”
Jeremy keys the name Taylor P Dermott into the Google search bar.
The first result that pulls up is a Facebook profile. We click on it eagerly, but the girl in the pictures looks way too young to be the CEO of a company that went out of business years ago.
We scroll through the rest of the results on the first page. When nothing seems promising there, we move on to the second page. On that page is the same article we just read about Dermott Tech going out of business. “Maybe try ‘Taylor Dermott CEO?’” I suggest.
Jeremy types it in, but it doesn’t help. He tries typing a few more queries, all involving either Taylor P Dermott or Dermott Tech, but nothing reveals anything for us beyond the short article we’ve already found.
It’s as if Dermott Tech never existed.
