The Ghost Shipment by Geoffrey Robert

Author:Geoffrey Robert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Geoffrey Robert
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

20. A dog barking

Any lingering doubts Ped had about micro-targeting and the power of social over mainstream media were obliterated by the results in Kentucky and Oregon.

Hunter had peppered television, radio, newspapers with her face-morphing ads implying Garland’s public donation site was a con. She also got plenty of free airplay from her Battle of Kentucky re-enactment from a media desperate to engineer a closer contest. Slam-dunk elections were ratings killers.

Sniping from beyond the 500-yard line, Jin and the Ciph had zeroed in on voters and reinforcers with morphing faces of real people – often from the targets’ neighborhoods – saying they’d donated. The battery of morphing faces saying Yes ended with a dog barking – a clever play on the concept of every man and his dog, and a humorous counter to Hunter’s tired use of celebrity.

Jin had also been right about one of the faces in Hunter’s ad. The Ciph tracked him down not to the streets of Kentucky but to Hunter’s campaign office in Washington, where he worked as a search engine optimizer. His name was Walter Binchy, and Jin’s take on the Where’s Wally puzzle books went viral until he was outed.

Ped took Kentucky 24 to 22, Oregon 15 to 13 – narrow victories but hugely significant given Hunter’s Second Battle of Kentucky gamble. He now needed just 36 delegates to get over the line – Hunter an unattainable 148. Ped’s spin doctors went into overdrive to convince the media their man was on track to the White House.

*****

The cab ride to the port of Padangbai on Bali’s south-eastern coast had been a diversion, though Bec only found out when they arrived.

Jay had chatted away to the driver about how they were heading to Lombok, more specifically to the Gili islands popular with backpackers, peppering him with questions about travel options. A fast boat direct to Gili Trawangan was recommended, along with a hotel near the night market.

As soon as the cabbie was out of sight, they walked out the back of the ferry terminal to where a Balinese man was waiting in a black Toyota Hilux. Jay introduced him as Wayan, an old mate. Bec knew from experience the gaps between the lines would only be filled when Jay was ready.

They doubled back across the island via a bewildering series of minor roads to avoid Ubud and join up with the highway to the north near Mengwi. Bec hovered in the yellows, even though she knew Jay’s account of what went down after the alarm went off in the drug lab down south was sanitized for her benefit. Orange was banished to the sidelines as Jay and Wayan jabbered and joked like they were heading down the road to a picnic at Reedy Creek.

The road started climbing after Luwus, and they got their first view of mountains to the west, dominated by the 7000-foot Batu Karu. They passed motorcycles laden with brooms, chickens in baskets, plastic toys, household goods, and schools of waving girls hanging over stone fences with blue and green ribbons in their hair.

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