The Unexpected
Copyright© 2025 by Technocracy
Chapter 13
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 13 - "If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it; for it is hard to be sought out, and difficult." -- Heraclitus of Ephesus
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction
Needham, Ma -- 1025 PM, 21 June 2004
Andrea was asleep, partially across Benny’s lap, while Lizzy drifted into sleep on Benny’s chest while holding a hand of both her mother and Benny. It was the third night running that Benny had no meaningful sleep. Benny was not relaxed sufficiently to feel fatigue. His thoughts were focused on the whys and hows of the actions of the federal government.
Thinking about their own corporate expansion, Benny thought of the much-ballyhooed coming of the Google IPO, wondering if various fed agencies also had their fingers in that pie. Benny re-thought, realizing that was stupid of himself; because, of course the feds were putting people inside that IPO, it was self-evident. And, of course the feds had people inside Google. Benny figured that if they knew of the importance and novelty of Harry’s work, then they sure as heck realized the huge corporate Godzilla that Google could become. Benny concluded that Matthew Goldstein will have to find some tech manager in the bay area that had insight on how to handle the feds, and how to keep things safe. He would make the call in the morning
Benny moved Lizzy to his side to pick up Andrea and place her into bed. He repeated the same with Lizzy, then went to work on his Thinkpad and PowerBook G4 computers. Lizzy had referred to his work setup, per the two different machines, as ‘schizoid’.
Needham, Ma -- 0635 AM, 22 June 2004
No manner of sharp complaint from either woman could deter Benny. His backpack was ready, his leg clips were secured, and his bicycle had been removed from the ceiling hooks.
“Lizzy, wait for Michelle before you go to work. I will see you lovely ladies later.”
Both women gave Benny a warm and fierce hug to send him on his way. Benny found Henry waiting at the bottom of the stairs, ready to ride to work. Benny posited on the contents of Henry’s pannier bags, then decided that he did not want to know.
“Henry, I am sorry about the way I handled the last several days. This governmental interference and James Bond intrigue is an unknown country for me.”
“Not an issue, Benny. Let’s go to work.”
SIG, Needham, Ma -- 4:22 PM, 22 June 2004
Harry, Henry, and Brian joined Benny in the conference room as he paced while conversing with Matthew Goldstein over the speaker phone. Brian turned the volume up as Benny wrote another item on the south wall’s white board.
“The others are here, Mister Goldstein ... Harry, he found us some people within Google. Mister Goldstein, tell Robert and Harry what you said about the feds.”
“Hello, Bob.”
“Hello, Matt. How is your leg?”
Benny flashed a look at Robert as the lawyers exchanged greetings, suddenly uncertain as to health issues of his most long-term friend and mentor.
“Much better. I have had several interesting discussions with several Google members. Per a senior counsel at Google, the problem with the federal government is the cruft.”
“The cruft?”
“The many and varied organizations of the executive and judiciary simply will not allow a company to have an unified approach to dealing with these people. Moreover, there are the layers of bureaucracy, the interplay and conflicts between career civil servants and the SES-level management, and the extreme differences between the people inside the beltway and of those out in the field. This problem space will require measured and varied approaches. A singular method or solution will not be effective.”
“So you’re saying that Google has no singular policy or person for dealing with these people? I’ll just have to accept that as a physical law. But let’s narrow it down to law enforcement and the matters of the national security infrastructure. Does Google have a particular policy or group for that?”
“This will knock your socks off, Bob. Google is the NSA. The NSA is Google. It’s a revolving door.”
“So they took the red pill?”
“I see that Benson and Harold have co-opted your metaphorical sensibilities. In this case, I would say that Google gave the blue pill to most of their employees; that is, their ‘Do no evil’ shibboleth. Then, certain, select internal groups within Google were given the red pill.”
“How is that? You’re saying that they will publicly deny the reality of the intelligence community?”
“No, they deny their employees and their customers any knowledge regarding the true nature of the structure and sources of power in the real world. And they do it most effectively.”
Robert gave a quick glance at Benny and Harry to weigh their response, then indirectly forwarding his observation to Matthew Goldstein.
“Not that we would need any additional fuel to feed Benny’s and Harry’s fires of paranoia, do you have any contacts that would be willing to be a resource for these governmental issues?”
“There are some senior computer scientists and legal techs at the bay area and New York that very much would like to talk to our two boys.”
125 High Street, Boston, Ma - 10:00 AM, 29 June 2004
Harry did not like the looks of the Google scientists. They were too perfect, too buttoned down, they looked like fashion models for ‘business casual’. The Google personnel were too ‘established’ to be the free-range engineering image that had been carefully designed and curated as a Google image. Harry’s main dislike was the manner that these senior techies so easily took to the high-brow and swank corporate surroundings of the Goldman Sachs Boston site.
Conversely, Benny was enamored with these Google elites, all educated at the rarefied centers for computer science and engineering of the west-coast, such as Berkeley and Stanford, and quite willing to demonstrate their elite intellectual prowess to this small group of upstarts that, seemingly, got lucky with a clever idea. There was two young women among the visiting Google group that did not see these two young PhDs as ‘lucky upstarts’.
Marissa Mayer and Nicole Wong, could not have been more different. Mayer was a senior engineering manager that was considered an expert in natural language processing and human interfaces. Wong was a lawyer/poet considered an expert in technology law and intellectual property, and was a lead counsel for Google. Neither was over 30, and both were among the first 100 google employees. The two women listened to the back an forth between Benny and Mayer’s ‘tech bro’ team. Mayer’s and Wong’s disappointment in their engineers was palpable. The three Google engineers were conducting a discussion, that had devolved into more exposition than examination of the two SIG principles.
Mayer gently cleared her throat, re-establishing her authority. She addressed her three ‘star brogrammers’ with a hint of contempt.
“Chad, get some fresh air. I want you to take your two boys for a walk along the river, or something.”
The three men, a bit stunned, with bruised egos, immediately complied and left the conference room.
“Doctor Harrison, I read the paper you wrote while an undergraduate, and your PhD thesis. I have a few questions, but first, I would ask that Nicole and Mister Northrup find a quiet space to discuss IP licensing. Would that be acceptable?”
“Robert? You and Ms Wong want to talk elsewhere?”
“Of course. Ms Wong? If you would come with me...”
Harry watched the two lawyers exit, wondering why the Google manager wanted to converse in private. Harry wanted to caution Benny.
“Doctor Harrison, I am not an electrical engineer, so perhaps you could start with the filter circuits that form the feed-back network.”
“We would prefer ‘Benny’ and ‘Harry’. Other than the way we move the poles and zeros around, it is rather conventional.”
“What determines the filter characteristics? And why use discrete hardware versus a code solution?”
“You are not alone in that question. My thesis advisor asked me exactly that in my first year at MIT. Think about the taps required for an IIR, or FIR for that matter. One issue is the discrete time intervals and the de-comp of the time-series data. The other is, simply, the computational expense a la the hard 500 nanosecond limit for the sync pulse. As for the filter parameters, that is proprietary, and to be honest, much of that came from Harry. His conceptional version enable me to ignore the effective secular and primary trends, thus dealing only with secondary market trends.”
“Doctor Spoons thesis? So those filter parameters are driven by his economic theories?”
“Yes, plus some seat-of-the-pants flying.”
“I understand that you discussed your trading systems with Peter Thiel.”
“You know him? ... Uh, yes, we did talk to him. Really sharp guy; doubly so considering he is a lawyer.”
“Engineering directors in The Valley all know, or know of, each other. I have met Thiel at multiple events. He is someone to watch ... Back to your systems, Your latest PTO filing lists currency trading is one of the applications for the patent. Why are your currency controls using open loops?”
Harry’s internal voice clanged the klaxon for that question. He thus interjected before Benny could answer.
“Benny, let’s back away from the feed trough for a while. Currency trades are unique to our IP. Also, Robert had told Google that we wouldn’t yak ‘bout that stuff.”
Mayer openly smiled at Harry, not surprised that he had caught her end-around play. Mayer was unusual, at least for an engineer, as her ‘soft’ skills enabled her to read people. Mayer knew that Harry was projecting an image of a simple country boy. She had read Harry’s PhD thesis. She considered his economic theories using probability density functions to be seminal and, unlike most economists, had presented several possible solutions to the problems of modern economies.
“I am not attempting to wrest proprietary information, Doctor Spoons ... But my assumption was that your paper’s dismissal of prevailing monetary exchange gap calculations is what drives your currency and real estate trading systems, as per the use of a non-Gaussian stochastic control.”
Harry sat upright, knowing that he was dealing with someone that was not only very smart, but was a multi-disciplinarian. He would have to be careful. Harry, unilaterally, decided that it was quid pro quo time, and was the time to get the problem at hand.
“Tell ya what there, smart lady. Tell us ‘bout how y’all use the NSA to shield your company from them nosy feds, and we’ll tell ya all about the economic theory that is in our currency trades. Deal?”
Marissa Mayer leaned towards Harry, with a concerned scowl. Benny sat back, letting Harry take this to whatever destination.
“You have had issues with a federal security agency?”
“Yep. That’s the reason we wanna talk at ya.”
“What was extracted?”
“Extracted? Don’t understand the question.”
Mayer wondered why Sergey Brin had not fully briefed her about the full situation with SIG. Although Mayer knew that she was not qualified to discuss these issues, she did have relevant experience dealing with national security personnel.
“Typically, when a security or intelligence agency wants something, they find a coercive media or method, which is then used to extract the information that they are seeking. Were you aware of their target?”
“Well, for starters, they didn’t even tell us what the heck they wanted, they just came after us. Once they did tell us, we gave them what they wanted, then had some serious arguments about how they went about doing stuff, then we kicked their dumb butts to the curb.”
“Interesting. Very interesting. I will have to talk to Sergey about this. Was this the CIA or the FBI?”
Harry caught the name she had dropped, realizing she had direct contact with the Google co-founder, meaning she was in the inner circle, and likely to be influential.
“Benny? Can we answer that?”
Benny shrugged. He figured in for a gram, in for a kilo.
“They were military.”
“DIA?”
“Unknown. All we know is that they were intel guys that were regular military.”
Marissa Mayer pushed away from the table. Her stomach had started to do stress flip-flops.
“Doctor Spoons, I do not think we should discuss this further.”
Mayer pulled a business card from her leather portfolio, quickly writing a name and phone number on the back.
‘Doctor Harrison, please have your chief legal counsel call this person. Do you have corporate security personnel?”
“We do.”
“I suggest that your security chief be part of the call.”
“Who is this guy?
“General Counsel for Google. Dave Drummond has extensive experience with tech-legal and the associated compliance issues. He’s been our ‘adult supervision’ for several years. You should avoid contact with any intelligence or law enforcement personnel until you talk to this man. Good day, gentlemen.”
Harry and Benny exchanged wide-eyed expressions after the hasty exit of Marissa Mayer.
SIG, Needham, Ma - 07:05AM 06 July 2004
Brandon, Henry, and Michelle were in quiet discussion waiting for three main principals, gathered around the coffee machine. Henry quietly queried MSG Brandon Hayes, US Army, retired, for the status of his extended ‘clean-up’ project.
“Everything all neat and tidy at the farm?”
“Took a few days, but it’s all nice and pretty. That Marine captain actually cried before I pulled the trigger. Can you believe that, colonel?”
“Any issues with disposals of their gear? The basement clean?”
“None, other than Brian and Michelle had to strip because they got blood on their clothes. It’s all clean. Colonel, what about the two big guys? They know?”
“They probably have a good idea. No discussion of this outside of the team. Benny and Harry are up to their ears in alligators, and everyone is stressed. Do not add anything to the mix.”
“Got it ... Uh, colonel? What’s Brian’s story. We were in the business for over twenty years. I know an operator when I see one.”
“The agreement was that Brian’s complete background would not be common knowledge. And yes he was in a special forces unit. Leave it at that. He’s the SIG operations manager, just with a little extra. Understood?”
“Rangers lead the way, sir.”
Henry ignored Brandon’s conditioned response/slogan that was from different times and different places. Michelle did not want to hear it, as she had carried a twenty-year grudge that females had not been allowed to attempt the career-making, and demanding, ranger school; thus her satire.
“Shut up, Brand. You’ll scare the children and kittens ... How long am I on the kiddie detail, colonel?”
“Until I say otherwise. I’ll be honest, Michelle, it’s mostly for Benny’s peace of mind. His concern is great for Isabelle. Don’t forget who keeps the chow on our dinner table. If Benny and Harry are fully functional and happy campers, the company will continue to rake it in, otherwise we’ll have to drag our ungrateful butts back to Goldman Sachs and beg for a lousy bag-boy job. Tell me this isn’t the best gig you’ve ever had.”
SFC Michelle Escalado, US Army, retired, immediately re-calibrated her perspective.
“Roger that. Not bitching, boss. Just that the kid makes me feel stupid. Did you know that she’s not even 18, and she’s starting her final year as a Computer Science major? Have you heard Lizzy talk to Benny? She can actually keep up with that man.”
Henry shrugged his shoulders at the obvious. Noticing the engineers enter the conference room, Henry warned his subordinates.
“All of them make me feel stupid ... Shut up, people. They’re here...”
Harry and Mike walked into the conference room, joining the the security team at the coffee machine.
“How’s it going, Henry? Michelle, Brandon, you folks are looking right chipper this morning.”
“Morning, Harry. We’re ready to pick you and Mike up. Just let us know and we will bring the van around to the front ... Mike, did you and your new tech finish the mods for the other van?”
“Installation is done, but not fully tested.”
“What’s the coverage, Mike?”
Michael Frothers smiled broadly at Harry with a sense of a project well-done.
“Most of the east coast, maybe upper midwest, and, theoretically, the California coast. So how’s the tracking system working for you, Henry?”
“Interesting system. It’s very useful, Mike. But there are lots of dead areas on the map, where we only can see raw coordinates and travel vectors.”
“Yeah, Google probably won’t go live with full coverage for another year, then we’ll have all of the dead areas fully mapped for our tracking overlay. Just remember to send your logs into to Google every day. That’s our price of admission to their data streams. And Lizzy just wrote something that does just that. So we can automate the system log reports.”
Harry nodded to the young electrical engineer, wondering if Isabelle Paucho had been the over-achieving subject of Benny’s tutelage, or if she was the benefactor of good genetics. Either way, Harry was not happy that Benny had the kid riding the receptionist desk, mostly doing grunt work.
“Yep, that kid is hell on wheels when ya give her a compiler and a keyboard ... Henry, where’s Benny?”
“Still in the lab. He did not go home last night, again. Another night on my office couch. Maybe we should put a bunk space in the building.”
Harry grimaced at the thought. He turned a serious face to the security chief to tamp down the idea.
“Nope. No way. Don’t ya even mention that to Benny. Uh, so where did you sleep, Henry?”
“The bench in the reception area. At least until Lizzy rousted me up and out of her area.”
“Where’s Andrea? She didn’t come in with Michele and Lizzy?”
“She is here, looking for Benny. Michele indicated that Andrea is rather perturbed that Benny spent the last two days at work.”
Harry gave a knowing smile to Henry.
“No way I’d wanna be on the receiving end of Andrea’s anger. So who’s all going to the farm?”
“Yourself, Mike, Doris, Brandon, Lizzy, Lydia, and Brian. Benny specifically said no.”
“What ‘bout Andrea?”
“Birds of a feather, I suppose. Neither did she have interest in learning to shoot. Anyone know about the two new techs?”
“Benny sent them home this morning. They were sleep walking.
“Good enough. Bring the vans around.”