The Department of Homeland Security tried to obtain a Canadian man’s location information, activity logs, and other identifying information from Google after he criticized the Trump administration online following the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti by federal immigration agents in Minneapolis early this year.

Lawyers for the man, who has not been named, are alarmed in part because they say that the man has not entered the United States in more than a decade. “I don’t know what the government knows about our client’s residence, but it’s clear that the government isn’t stopping to find out,” says Michael Perloff, a senior staff attorney at the American Civil Liberties Union of the District of Columbia who is representing the man in a lawsuit against Markwayne Mullin, the secretary of DHS, over the summons. The lawsuit alleges that DHS violated the customs law that gives the agency the power to request records from businesses and other parties.

Perloff argues that the government is using the fact that big tech companies are based in the US to request information it would not otherwise be able to get. “It’s using that geographic fact to get information that otherwise would be totally outside of its jurisdiction,” he says. “I mean, we’re talking about the physical movements of a person who lives in Canada.”

DHS and Google did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

The demand for the man’s location data was included in a request DHS issued to Google called a customs summons, which is supposed to be used to investigate issues related to importing goods and collecting customs duties.

“It says right in the statute, it’s for records and testimony about the correctness of an entry, the liability of a person for duties, taxes, and fees, you know, compliance with basic customs laws,” says Chris Duncan, a former assistant chief counsel for US Customs and Border Protection who now works as a private-practice attorney representing importers and exporters. “And that’s all it was ever envisioned to be used for.”

A customs summons is a type of administrative subpoena and is not reviewed by a judge or grand jury before being sent out. According to the complaint, Google alerted the man about the request on February 9, despite an ask included in the summons “not to disclose the existence of this summons for an indefinite period of time.”

Through his attorneys, the man told WIRED he initially mistook the notification for a joke or scam before realizing it was real.

The summons, which is included in the complaint, does not give a specific reason for why the man was under investigation beyond citing the Tariff Act of 1930. The man’s lawyers contend that he did not export or import anything from the United States between September 1, 2025, to February 4, 2026, the time frame the government requested information about.

Instead, the man’s lawyers allege, the summons was filed in response to the man’s online activities, including posts that he made condemning immigration enforcement agents after the killings of Good and Pretti in January.

The man tells WIRED that watching members of the Trump administration “smear these two souls as terrorists was absolutely disgusting and enraging. People were being asked to disbelieve our own eyes so that the men responsible for killing two good Americans would go free.”

The man says of his online activity, “I felt I needed to do something that would stand out and be seen by despairing Americans to show them they had support and that they were not alone.”

When you think of Star Wars, you think of lightsabers. Right? What could be better, from a movie-making standpoint, than a futuristic sword that lets you create awesome fencing duels like in old-time Errol Flynn swashbucklers. (So much better than watching Stormtroopers fire their blasters into walls and ceilings and anything else except their targets.)

Lightsabers come in a cosmic rainbow of hues (color-coded blue or green for good guys, red for bad) and a variety of shapes. There’s even a double-bladed version in Phantom Menace. (I don’t want to start a nerd fight—yet—but the best lightsaber battle in the canon has to be the “Duel of the Fates” in that movie, thanks to the skills and scariness of Darth Maul actor Ray Park.)

So … exactly what are lightsabers? Of course, they aren’t real, so nobody really knows how they work. Even the characters in the movies seem a little confused about it. In Phantom Menace, Anakin calls it a “laser sword.” Yeah, he was a kid, but both Din Djarin (the Mandalorian) and Luke Skywalker also refer to it as a laser sword—though I suspect Luke was being sarcastic.

Anyway, that’s just wrong: It can’t be a laser. For starters, lasers beams are invisible from the side, so you wouldn’t see a thing unless you staged the duels in a disco with fog machines to scatter the beams. Second, the beams go on forever; they don’t have an end. Third, laser beams can’t clank together like swords—they’d just pass through each other when you try to parry.

But what is it then? We can greatly narrow the possibilities by asking if the blade has mass. If it’s some kind of light (as you’d think from the name “lightsaber”), then the answer is no—light, or electromagnetic radiation, has no mass. If we can determine that it has mass, then it’s not light.

This is a question we can answer, by analyzing how lightsabers move when you wave them around. In other words, it’s time for some physics!

Mass and Motion

Don’t confuse mass and weight. Mass is a measure of how much “stuff” like protons, neutrons, and electrons are in an object, and weight is the amount of gravitational force acting on an object. Here we want to see what impact the mass of a lightsaber would have on its motion. But let’s start with something simpler.

Instead of a lightsaber, say we have a “lightball” made of the same buzzy substance. Since it’s symmetrical, we can describe its motion without worrying about rotation. If we want to move this ball back and forth, we call on Newton’s second law of motion. This says the acceleration (a) of an object depends on its mass (m) and the amount of force (F) applied to it.

Cloud-native, or containerised, applications are now mainstream. As many as 82% of enterprises now have Kubernetes in production, according to the Cloud Native Computing Forum (CNCF). That is up from 66% in 2023. And a full 98% of organisations have at least some cloud-native applications, the industry body says.

But moving applications to cloud-native environments does not just mean creating new code. It also means adapting infrastructure. Compute, networking and data storage all need to work with container environments. By no means can all systems do this out of the box, especially when it comes to on-premise hardware.

At the same time, enterprise IT architects need to consider the requirements of legacy applications and virtual machines (VMs) that are not being updated.  And enterprises will want to make the most efficient use of their storage hardware, regardless of their application environments.

Moving to containers means adapting a technology that was not designed for persistent storage to handle business-critical data.