VTV
A flash of light, distant thunder. Some tall storehouse
collapsing. Panik - stricken shoppers run around like headless
chicken. And indeed, some of the bodies don't have a head worth
speaking of. Mechanic shrieking can be heard whenever the guns
seize to fire. Whenever it has to reload. Right now, it is
leaving another building in complete chaos and devastation.
It, in this case, is a remote controlled device moving on chain
tracks. Spectators would perhaps call it a robot, but there are
no spectators alive to wonder about the nature of the intruder.
Suddenly an amplifier voice breaks the white noise. The
ground around the intruder explodes as shells and rockets are
fired on it. The attempt to return the fire fails as it has to
give in to the armor piercing bombardment.
Colonel Wilbur Smith wipes his forehead with a gesture of
relief, then talks to his men: "Okay, that's the last one. How
many casualties?" The reply comes in crackling over the radio:
"62 of us, several hundred civilians".
|=-=|
"Speed", the tiny man behind the terminal says, "the name's
Jake Speed." But his visitor does not seem impressed. "Really?
Last time I was around, you called yourself Joe Indian, right?"
"That's the past, man. Godda keep up with the pace of modern
time, right?" - "Anyway, Mr, erm, Speed, are you willing to
help us?" - "Help? Why, if the money's right, I'm of course
willing to help you." Smith looked really annoyed now. "You
know, there once was a time when we used to arrest scum like
you..." But Speed interrups him with a bright smile "Easy, Mr.
Military Man, or you won't hear a single word from me!"
That obviolously was too much, as Smiths suddenly bursts forward,
lifting Speed off his feet: "Listen up, you sukker! 62 of my men
died yesterday, along with 465 civilians. You're gonna tell me
what I want to know right now, or I'll throw you out of that
window!" That obviously shattered Speed's conficence. "Okay,
okay, settle down. I'll tell ya."
"You see, your computer specialists have been trying to
uncover some secret computer or network. The reason they had no
success in finding that hidden mainframe is that it is not hidden
at all. It's even got an IP address." Disbelief echoes in Smith's
face: "You are telling me I can access this thing from
everywhere? Even from here?" - "Yeah, that's right, perhaps you
want to write down the IP address? It's 128.11.97.10.115.4.17.12"
Hastily, Smith writes it down on a slip of paper, carelessly
torn out of some printout. "Any domain name?" - "Negative. At
least, I can't make out one right now." - "Never mind, log on to
it!" Speed types a few keys, then the screen blinks in red and
yellow."
ACCESS DENIED.
Connection closed by foreign host.
"No luck", Speed laments with a shrug, "we could try some
ancient services..." - "Ancient services?", Smith echoes with a
desoriented look, "What's that supposed to mean?" - "Yeah, really
ancient ones. You've probably never heared of http, or telnet for
that matter..." Impatient shrug: "Try it out!" - "You know, mosts
sysops nowadays don't know these at all, so you sometimes can
sneak in there..."
$ telnet 128.11.97.10.115.4.17.12
beavis (Genix Sys IX R 4)
Connection closed by foreign host.
A slap makes the monitor tremble: "Shit, that one's as tight
as a nun's pussy." - "But we've got the hostname, right?" - "Yeah,
but what good will it do us?" - "We'll see ... anyway, do you
know when Genix Sys9R4 was popular?" Speed frowns, then scratches
his nonexistent beard, finally coming to a conclusion. "Around
the turn of the century, perhaps 2005. But I really can't
remember what kind of operating system this Genix is ... I'll
have a look around the 'Net."
Speed's database queries leave Smith with some time to think.
Why would someone commit random raids, without visible motive?
From a 20 year old computer? Random acts of senseless violence...
Over 500 people slaughtered... Why?
Speed interrupted him: "First results coming in!"
search word "genix"
->8-
UNIX derived operating system developed for artificial
intelligence research. Release 1 distributed in 2002 by the
University of Bern. Latest release R12 still available at Bern
University, since 2015. Development stopped in 2017.
-8<-
"Artificial intelligence, eh?", Smith mumbles...
|=-=|
The table had been covered by a big white cloth, hiding some
strange object. "So, Dr. Lang, what is it you want to show me?",
Smith asks impatiently. With a brisk smile, Dr. Land pulls the
cloth away and uncovers a small metallic object, "This is a
so-called MD, mobile detonator. We call it a 'turtle', though".
Curiously, Smith pats the object that indeed resembles a turtle.
"Detonator, huh?" - "Yes, a unit such as this one usually carries
1.5 pounds of explosives. Look here!" With this, he types
commands on a keyboard.
> move to exit
Slowly, the turtle starts to crawl towards the door, but not
in a direct line but trying to take cover under the table while
underway.
> move to person B ; detonate
Smith's jaw drops as the turtle changes course and starts
crawling towards him. By reaching the tip of his left shoe, a
metallic click echoes through the room. "This one is disarmed, of
course", Lang remarkes as Smith's face slowly returns to a normal
colour. "You see, 15 of these beasts disappeared last night."
|=-=|
Determinded to annoy, shockinly contentless music pours down
on the visitors of Eastside's mall. People moving in large groups,
yet independant from each other, they look like sheep to the
steady eye of the surveillance cameras. These cameras connect to
a ring of fibre optic cable, which is in turn connected to the
mall's main security computer. All data collected within the mall,
wheter bills, check card numbers or digital pictures, are stored
on a large disk. There, they can be accessed by any person in
posession of the correct access codes. Not everyone of those is
supposed to have them. And not even everyone of those is a
person.
Online pictures of the target site makes manuevering the
units much easier. The last unit is supposed to reach its
destination in 24 seconds. 12 units report arrival at destination.
13, 14, 15 units report arrival at destination. Commince
countdown. Two, One, Zero.
|=-=|
Miss Agatha Robinson, aged 35, had lived an ordinary life.
Working as a secretary for Fujin Electronics she never had dared
to drop off the mainstream in her life, yet she always knew she'd
do something really out of the oridinary - somewhen.
When the shelf came blazing apart, all her life - everything
she is ever was, she ever could have been - got extinguished in
a single flash of pain. She was forgotten before all of her
body parts reached the floor. Another sheep slaughtered.
|=-=|
Smith sadly shakes his head as the reports slowly pour in.
Another 86 citizens murdered. Slamming the door of the car shut
does not help much. "Do you now have the credit to pay me for my
expences?", Speed asks with a grin as Smith enters the room.
"Yeah, but only if you got new stuff for me!", Smith declares
calm but determined, which makes Speed grin even more. "You're a
big businessman, aren't you? Anyway, I've got the sukka isolated.
I know the physical cable id it's connected to the 'net with. Go
find the provider and disconnect the asshole. Come again when you
need my assistance."
Without saying a word, Smith grabs the printout from Speed's
hands and drops the credit form on the table. "People say good-bye
to each other, where I come from", Speed shouts as Smith slams
the door shut. Smith grumbles. If only he'd people as good as
this one, he wouldn't have to deal with such assholes.
|=-=|
0459.40h. According to the schedule, beavis's connection will
vanish in another 20 seconds. Two fully featured task teams have
taken their positions and are waiting for the command to go raid
the house.
After storming in through all possible and impossible
entrances, the forces find themselves alone in the house, alone
with a humming computer tower and a blanked screen. The screen
comes back to life.
$ monitor -channel 97 &
$
inetd: connection breakdown. intervention needed.
"Now he knows he's off duty", Smith announces with a satisfied
grin. "So what do we have here ?" Pausing several time to check
the printout, he types ps -t console, then kill 3226.
**killed[3]
As the troops move back out of the house, Smith starts
searching the desk for a clue about what channel 97 could be.
And indeed, he discovers an old listing of TV channels that
names channel 97 as a pay-channel for official press releases and
objective news coverage.
With a horrified suspicion, he tunes a television to channel
97. Suddenly it all makes sense.
The operator of this machine had underestimated the abilities
of this particular operating system. And he had left it running
for years and years. Perhaps he died somewhere years ago, or got
busted and sits in jail. Anyway, his machine stayed tuned to
channel 97 even when the original program got discontinued.
NEXT WEEKS FEATURE HERE ON VTV: SAVAGE STREETS PUNKS
SLAUGHTER INNOCENT JOGGERS IN PUBLIC RECREATIONAL AREA.
DONT FORGET: THIS IS WHERE THE ACTION IS, CHANNEL 97.
THIS IS VIOLENCE TV, YOUR DAILY GUIDE TO THE RANDOM ACTS
OF SENSELESS VIOLENCE.
tom-25-06-95
written by Tom Eicher, all rights reserved.
http://www.teicher.net/cyberpunk.html