CORY DOCTOROW · 164
“Take It Back” and Trudy Doo talking about us being the only generation that could believe in fighting for our freedoms. “We need to make people know about this,” she said. “Yeah,” I said, glumly. “That’s a nice theory.” “Well, why do you think the press doesn’t ever publish our side?” “You said it, they’re whores.” “Yeah, but whores do it for the money. They could sell more papers and commercials if they had a controversy. All they have now is a crime — controversy is much bigger.” “OK, point taken. So why don’t they do it? Well, reporters can barely search regular blogs, let alone keep track of the Xnet. It’s not as if that’s a real adult-friendly place to be.” “Yeah,” she said. “Well, we can fix that, right?” “Huh?” “Write it all up. Put it in one place, with all the links. A single place where you can go that’s intended for the press to find it and get the whole picture. Link it to the HOWTOs for Xnet. Internet users can get to the Xnet, provided they don’t care about the DHS finding out what they’ve been surfing.” “You think it’ll work?” “Well, even if it doesn’t, it’s something positive to do.” “Why would they listen to us, anyway?” “Who wouldn’t listen to M1k3y?” I put down my coffee. I picked up my phone and slipped it into my pocket. I stood up, turned on my heel, and walked out of the cafe. I picked a direction at random and kept going. My face felt tight, the blood gone into my stomach, which churned. They know who you are, I thought. They know who M1k3y is. That was it. If Ange had figured it out, the DHS had too. I was doomed. I had known that since they let me go from the DHS truck, that someday they’d come and arrest me and put me away forever, send me to wherever Darryl had gone. It was all over. She nearly tackled me as I reached Market Street. She was out of breath and looked furious. “What the hell is your problem, mister?” I shook her off and kept walking. It was all over. She grabbed me again. “Stop it, Marcus, you’re scaring me. Come on, talk to me.”