Once Aryan Skynet Goes Live It Doesn't Matter Who Pulled The Switch
Computer Scientist Greg Walker smelled his own burning flesh, and he knew it was his own. He stared up in terror at the dark figure looming over him. “What do you want?”
Al sheatza – the password.
The intruder pressed down again, grinding the white hot metal deeper into Walker’s chest. There was the hiss of burning flesh.
Walker cried out in agony. “What password? What are you talking about?”
The figure glared. “To US CENTCOM’s Twitter account. We know you have it.”
“Never,” Walker spat, even as he bordered on the edge of unconsciousness.
Meanwhile, back in a Georgetown townhouse, Dr. Robert Langdon is just finishing his coffee when his cell rings. Who would be calling this early?
“Dr. Langdon. This is Lt. Colonel Latisha Jones, US Central Command. Are you the author of ‘Queer Identities in Medieval Islamic Literature?'”
“I am,” Langdon replied, quizzically. “Who is this again?”
“Dr. Langdon, this is of the utmost urgency. Your country needs you. Be ready to leave in one hour, a helicopter is on the way.”
Langdon gulped, hung up the phone and started packing. When the suitcase was almost full, he paused, went to his bookshelf and pulled his dog-eared copy of the Koran off the shelf and tossed it on top of his cardigan sweaters. “Just in case,” he thought.
Elizabeth Smith walked over to the monitor to assess the damage. Her years of theoretical academic work had prepared her for exactly these sorts of challenges, as she assessed the damage. “Look what they are posting!” Dr. Langdon takes his eyes off of Dr. Smith’s tantalizing figure and started reading the Twitter feed.
“We Will Kill Your Sons And Enslave Your Daughters … In the name of ALLAH!”
“It’s Islamic State.” Smith turned to Langdon and looked him straight in the eye. “The longer this goes on, the more Arab youth will become radicalized on social media. You must figure out what they changed the password to.”
“Have you called anyone at Twitter?” Lt. Colonel Jones asked, hesitantly.
“We can’t. Against their terms of service. We’d have to get a FISA warrant.”
Dr. Langdon interjected, “well damn it then, we’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way. Now, if you read Surah 24, notice the term ‘of the right hand.'” Count the letters, skipping every three. Remember what they published in ‘Dabiq Weekly’ last month?”
“Here goes nothing,” Smith said. “I’ve created a GUI in Visual Basic and tracked the IP. So what’s the password, Dr. Langdon?”
Langdon looked up from his notebook, now scribbled with esoteric symbols. “It’s FREEDOM!”