Dear Mr. Green
avengers
These internet memes are just getting out of control.

The Internet

May 13, 2013

"I'm sorry. I must've misread where you wrote 'truth', you clearly meant to say 'riddles'."

The message was simple and spread like wildfire within the period of a week.

It crossed multiple forums that discussed science and gamma radiation among other things including the possibilities of radiation research. Many of the postings on the website gave accolades to the recent nomination of one Dr. Samuel Sterns and his research team for their commendable research on gamma radiation and plants.

But the message itself had permanence to it. A subtleness to it. Few would look for it. Not now. But then it's intention was only to attract or, at least, pique, the attention of one.

Mr. Green,
I have information that you must receive as early as possible. Please private message me.
T

And so the message was across sites, across forums, and even across emails in the shape of a Trojan virus that forwarded the email to all of contacts in mailing lists. Not that the virus did much else. It even became a topic of news. Weirdly nearly-pointless news, but news nonetheless. It didn't seem to pose any real security threat. Just a message. A cryptic message created by some random hacker bent on distraction according to the Daily Bugle.

It takes longer for the reply to move around. In the end, just a few forums focusing on research; obscure little bundles of internet talkers wondering at a tiny, seemingly reasonless post:

Decline.

It was some time later that the next random virus started making the rounds. The nonsense of its contents managed to get it called 'a menace' by the Daily Bugle, as nearly everything got so named in James Jamison's newspaper.

Mr. Green,
Remember labs theorizes. It's regarding that. You want to know.
T

The message was simple, it addressed the same someone and was from, presumably, the same someone. Unless it was a copy cat. But then, was there ever any real way to know the origin of such things?

Speculation will have to become content with never becoming more; the next message does not circulate, rounding no spare pages. It's messaged straight to one of the accounts that passed the first message through a forum:

Who is this?

The response will offer no comfort.

An ally. No one will bother to tell you the truth.
T

The point was generally to make sure no one could find me to tell me anything at all.

If you don't want the truth, then why bother writing back at all? The people I work for have ways of finding people if they want to. Getting them into custody is another story.

I've found that you people tend to be pretty persistent. So, what do I want to know?

Did you see the article in the Bugle that included labs theorizes? Nothing is what it seems.

I'm sorry. I must've misread where you wrote 'truth', you clearly meant to say 'riddles'.

The last message receives no response for over twenty-four hours despite T's promptness otherwise. Finally, when the response comes it is nearly defensive.

I was situating the truth for you. Unless you don't appreciate situated truth. Evidently you aren't exactly the fellow in the files. I write in puzzles because I really shouldn't be writing at all and my time in front of this screen is limited for reasons I cannot get into. In case you haven't noticed, doctor, only one of us here risks everything to tell what I do know, which grows limited by the day. I'd appreciate less censure.
Labs theorizes is not working on any grand research. She is, in fact, missing.

Its reply, too, takes its time; the respondent either assuming there'd be no reply, or separated from a way to see it for a period.

I would've appreciated being left alone. But here we are. Surely, the one with limited time appreciates a little succinctness. So, why are you telling me this? What do you hope to accomplish?

I'm telling you because I suspect the worst and there's nothing I can do about it. But you are still free to the best of my knowledge.

You're mistaken. I'm not part of that life anymore.

My hands are tied.

No response.

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