It arrived in the mail one day, an advertisement for a new computer. Bailey had seen advertisements like this one before, but there was always a catch: bait and switch, certain fees that had conveniently been left out of the ad, and so on. This one was different. For one, he'd never heard of the company, Goodware Inc. Bailey went online to try and look up this company name, but it didn't seem to exist. The ad wasn't created on as professional of a scale as the known computer companies. According to the ad, this computer claimed to be more powerful than any computer ever created, more storage, processor speed, etc, but it needed to be tested in a home environment. The creators of the computer and the ad announced that they were looking for a participant in a home testing of the computer, provided the potential volunteer met certain guidelines set forth be the creators. It also claimed that participants would receive a brand new computer of their choice for successfully completing the testing.
Bailey, who was twenty-six years old, lived alone in a studio apartment, worked at a bank, and really didn't have a lot of friends. He was a likable guy, but he had trust issues earned from a seriously altered childhood. He had a few hobbies, such as collecting all kinds of rarely viewed movies. A lot of his income went to expanding his collection. So he wondered if he would qualify, or if the unknown company was looking for more of a family environment to test the computer in. On a whim, he called the number on the ad. It rang twice, and then somebody picked up.
"Goodware Service Desk, how can I help you?"
"Um, yeah. I got this ad in my mail today, and I wanted to get some info on it. I've never heard of your company before today. Is this a starter company?"
"Not really, sir, most of our previous products were for private corporations. You received one of our advertisements in the mail?"
Bailey answered, "Yeah, it came in my mail today. It says that you are looking for participants. What kind of participants do you need?"
"We're looking for persons living alone and generating a steady income. Do you feel you qualify so far?"
"Uh, yeah, I live alone in a studio apartment, and I have a job at a bank. What other qualifications do I need?"
"Do you have a good working knowledge of computers?"
"Oh, well not really. I never had one growing up, and I only took basic classes for computers in college."
"Great! That is what we're looking for. There are some other less significant qualifications we're looking for, but those are, like I said, less significant, so you're a likely choice. I'll go over the other qualifications and once we've discussed those, we might be able to set up an appointment with you."
A week later, Bailey stood outside the doors of an unmarked warehouse that looked a bit dilapidated. He looked at the address he had written down, hoping that this wasn't the wrong place. He rapped on the small door next to a large roll-up door, waited a few minutes, and then knocked again. Maybe the address was the wrong one. He looked at the warehouses surrounding the one he stood before, and they appeared to be as disused as this one. Shrugging, feeling a bit put off, he turned away from the door and began to leave.
"Mr. Kingman? Bailey Kingman?"
Bailey turned around to see a short black man with dreadlocks standing there, holding the door open.
"Yes," Bailey admitted, "I'm Bailey. I was here for an appointment."
"Yes, Mr. Kingman, we're expecting you. Come in, please."
The inside of the warehouse was much cleaner and efficient than the exterior. Much of the inside had been refurbished to create offices and laboratories, clean-rooms and more clean-rooms. The short man noticed Bailey's awe.
"We thought it better if those who don't know where we are continue to not know. It helps with security," the black man spoke in a deep, almost British voice, "Now, Mr. Kingman, you spoke with Mr. Wicket on the phone, and according to him, you met almost all the requirements. That's more than enough to qualify for the spot."
"But what exactly am I going to be doing? The ad said something about testing a computer."
"That's exactly what you'll be doing, testing our computer. We will take care of some paperwork, liability agreements, the terms, and your reward for completing the testing. The testing will take place in your apartment, and will last for five days. Upon the end of the fifth day, we will return here with the computer, and gather the results of the testing. Please," the short man indicated for Bailey to follow, "Once the testing is concluded, and the results recorded, you will receive your reward for participating."
Bailey followed the man through a series of hallways, and they reached a small office. The man led him inside and motioned for him to sit down, and then left him alone in the office. The office was clean, no pictures sat on it, just a small computer and a generic calendar on the wall.
Within a few minutes, another man, a white man, in his forties, with brush-cut white hair and a warm smile.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kingman. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Bailey nodded, "Same here."
The man sat down behind the desk, reached into a side drawer, and brought out a manila folder. Opening it, he pulled out a small packet of papers stapled together. Promptly, another man, a taller, Hispanic man let himself in and stood beside the desk.
"This, Mr. Kingman, would be the man you spoke with on the phone, Mr. Wicket."
Bailey interrupted, "You haven't told me your name, sir."
The shorter man laughed, "So you're right, I haven't. I am Kit Daniels, the creator of Goodware. Mr. Wicket and a few others are my associates, and an invaluable part of my team. Mr. Wicket will be here as a witness, and once we are done here, he will also be there for you to call day or night if you have any questions or concerns."
After a beat, he continued, "Now, for the contract, I am going to go over it with you to make sure you get a handle on the contents, and provided that you agree, you can sign it, and we will transport the prototype computer to your apartment."
Bailey verified his name and address for Mr. Wicket and Kit Daniels, and Kit began reading the contract aloud.
"What you will be receiving is a prototype, never before tried outside the labs here. It will look and work as any other computer would, but this specific prototype will be undeniably different in its capabilities. If the prototype does not accurately perform to the standards cited in the instruction manual you will receive with the prototype, the testing will conclude automatically, you will still receive the reward before mentioned in the advertisement. If at any time any abuse is suspected, or if signs of abuse are noticed, this contract will be void, you will receive no reward, and you may be charged for repairs. At no time before, during, or after will you divulge any information about it to anyone, nor discuss it with anyone. Any divulgence of the prototype's existence with any persons not employed by Goodware will void this contract. At the end of the specified period of five days, the prototype will be brought back to the laboratory to be examined, and the results of testing will be recorded. Once concluded, you will receive your reward, either a copy of the prototype, or whichever specific computer model you choose, to be paid for in full by Goodware."
Kit leaned back in his chair, looked up at Bailey, and slid the contract for him to examine.
"Have a look for yourself. You'll see that everything's straightforward."
Bailey reread the contract, searching for something, any vague parts that could come back to bite him in the ass, but as Kit had said, everything did look to be on the level. Kit pulled a pen from the desk drawer and gave it to Bailey. Bailey hesitated.
"Everything seems okay with the contract, but what's so important about this computer of yours that you would make such an offer?"
Kit laughed again, and Mr. Wicket smiled a thin smile that didn't appear at all jovial.
Kit answered, "This prototype is an exceptional one, its capabilities far surpassing any computer ever created. As we searched for volunteers to test it, we realized that any person we picked would have the opportunity to receive the prototype and just take off with it, leaving us high and dry. So, we decided that giving a prototype to you at the end of your testing would hopefully help you realize that there'd be no point in running off during the testing. Now, we did a thorough background check on you before your appointment, and have decided that you seem to be trustworthy. So, Mr. Kingman, do you agree to the terms of the contract?"
Bailey read through the contract once more, and decided, 'What the hey, I'll give it a try,' and signed at the bottom of the contract. Kit gave him another copy of the contract, he read it, and then signed it as well.
"This copy is for you to hold on to," Kit folded it in thirds and gave it back to Bailey.
"So, when does the testing begin?"
Kit looked at Mr. Wicket, and the taller man chimed in, "A van is waiting outside your apartment now. As soon as you get home, they'll set the prototype up, and testing begins as soon as you turn the prototype on. Oh, before I forget, for the entire five days, your internet service fees will be free."
Bailey left the warehouse with the copy of the contract in his hand, wondering what he was getting himself into. Once he reached his apartment, he saw a blue van, with the Goodware logo, sitting in front of one of the meters next to the building. As he exited his car, the driver and passenger also got out. The driver, a man in his forties, with a walrus mustache, dressed in a pair of clean, blue coveralls, approached Bailey.
"Mr. Kingman?"
Bailey nodded, "Mr. Wicket told me you'd be here. I live on the second floor, in apartment 2B."
