Terminal Compromise, Winn Schwartau [sight word books txt] 📗
- Author: Winn Schwartau
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We don’t trust you. The FYI, Freeflow of Your Information says
that passage of the Computer License Law will give the federal
government the unrestricted ability and right to invade our
privacy. Dr. Sean Kirschner, the chief ACLU counsel, is consid-
ering a lawsuit against the United States if the bill passes.
Kirschner maintains that ” . . .if the License Law goes into
effect, the streets will be full of Computers Cops handing out
tickets if your computer doesn’t have a license. The enforcement
clauses of the bill essentially give the police the right to
listen to your computer. That is a simple invasion of privacy,
and we will not permit a precedent to be set. We lost too much
freedom under Reagan.”
Proponents of the bill insist that the low fee, perhaps only $10
per year per computer, is intended to finance efforts at keeping
security technology apace with computer technology. “We have
learned our lesson the hard way, and we now need to address the
problem head on before it bites us again.” They cite the example
of England, where televisions have been licensed for years, with
the fees dedicated to supporting the arts and maintaining broad-
casting facilities.
“Does not apply,” says Dr. Kirschner. “With a television, there
isn’t an issue of privacy. A computer is like an electronic
diary, and that privacy must be respected at all costs.”
“And,” he adds, “that’s England, not the U.S.. They don’t have
freedom of the press, either.”
Kirschner vowed a highly visible fight if Congress ” . . .dares
to pass that vulgar law . . .”
* Monday, February 15 Scarsdale, New York“ECCO reports are coming in.”
“At this hour?” Scott said sleepily.
“You want or no?” Tyrone Duncan answered with irritation.
“Yeah, yeah, I want,” Scott grumbled. “What time is it?”
“Four A.M. Why?”
“I won’t make the morning . . .”
“I’m giving you six hours lead. Quit bitching.”
“O.K., O.K., what is it?”
“Don’t sound so grateful.”
“Where the hell are you?” Scott asked sounding slightly more
awake.
“At the office.”
“At four?”
“You’re pushing your luck . . .”
“I’m ready.”
“It looks like your NEMO friends were right. There are bunches
of viruses. You can use this. ECCO received reports of a quar-
ter million computers going haywire yesterday. There’s gotta be
ten times that number that haven’t been reported.”
“Whose?”
“Everybody for Christ’s sake. American Gen, Compton Industries,
First Life, Banks, and, this is almost funny, the entire town of
Fallsworth, Idaho.”
“Excuse me?”
* Thursday, February 25 TOWN DISAPPEARS By Scott MasonThe town of Fallsworth, Idaho is facing a unique problem. It is
out of business.
Fallsworth, Idaho, population 433, has a computer population of
611.
But no one in the entire incorporation of Fallsworth has ever
bought or paid for a single piece of software or hardware.
Three years ago, the town counsel approved a plan to make this
small potato farming community the most computerized township in
the United States, and it seems that they succeeded. Apparently
the city hall of Fallsworth was contacted by representatives of
Apple Computer. Would they like to be part of an experiment?
Apple Computer provided every home and business in the Fallsworth
area with a computer and the necessary equipment to tie all of
the computers together into one town-wide network. The city was
a pilot program for the Electronic City of the future. The
residents of Fallsworth were trained to use the computers and
Apple and associated companies provided the township beta copies
of software to try out, play with and comment on.
Fallsworth, Idaho was truly the networked city.
Lily Williams and members of the other 172 households in Falls-
worth typed out their grocery lists on their computer, matching
them to known inventories and pricing from Malcolm Druckers’
General Store. When the orders arrived at the Drucker computer,
the goods just had to be loaded in the pick up truck. Druckers’
business increased 124% after the network was installed.
Doctors Stephenson, Viola and Freemont, the three town doctors
modem’ed prescriptions to Baker Pharmacy so the pills were ready
by the time their patients arrived.
Mack’s Messengers had cellular modems and portable computers
installed in their delivery trucks. They were so efficient, they
expanded their business into nearby Darbywell, Idaho, population,
5,010.
Today, Fallsworth, Idaho doesn’t use its computers. They lie
dormant. A town without life. They forgot how to live and work
and play and function without their computers. Who are the
slaves?
The viruses of Lotus, of dGraph. The viruses of Freedom struck,
and no one in the entire town had registration cards. The soft-
ware crisis has left Fallsworth and a hundred other small test
sites for big software firms out in the digital void.
Apple Computer promised to look into the matter but said that
customers who have paid for their products come first . . .
* Friday, March 5 FBI Building, Federal SquareTyrone Duncan was as busy as he had ever been, attempting to
coordinate the FBI’s efforts in tracking down any of the increas-
ing number of computer criminals. And there were a lot of them at
the moment. The first Copy-Cat computer assaults were coming to
light, making it all that much more difficult to isolate the
Foster Plan activities from those other non-coordinated inci-
dents.
Tyrone, as did his counterparts in regional FBI offices nation-
wide, created teams of agents who concentrated on specific areas
of Homosoto’s assault as described by the Spook. Some special-
ized in tracing missing electronic funds, some in working with
the phone company through the NSA. More than any other goal, the
FBI wanted desperately to locate as many of the invisible agents
that the Spook, Miles Foster, had told Homosoto to use. Tyrone
doubted they would catch anywhere near the 3000 or more he was
told that were out there, but at this point any success was
welcome.
FBI agents toiled and interviewed and researched sixteen and
eighteen hours a day, seven days a week. There hadn’t been such
a blanket approval of overtime since the Kennedy assassination.
The FBI followed up the leads generated by the computers at the
NSA. Who and where were the likely associates of Homosoto and
Foster?
His phone rang – the private line that bypasses his secretary-
startling Tyrone from the deep thought in which he was immersed.
On a Saturday. As the voice on the other end of the phone ut-
tered its first sound, Tyrone knew that it was Bob Burnson.
Apparently he was in his office today as well.
“Afternoon, Bob,” Tyrone said vacantly.
“Gotcha at a bad time?” Burnson asked.
“No, no. Just going over something that may prove interesting.”
“Go ahead, make my day,” joked Burnson.
“I know you don’t want to know . . .”
“Then don’t tell me . . .”
“But Mason’s hackers are coming through for us.”
“Jeez, Ty,” whined Bob. “Do you have to . . .”
“Do you know anybody else that is capable of moving freely in
those circles? It’s not exactly our specialty,” reprimanded
Tyrone.
“In theory it’s great,” Bob reluctantly agreed, “but there are so
damn many exposures. They can mislead us, they’re not profes-
sionals, and worst of all, we don’t even know who they are, to
perform a background check.”
“Bob, you go over to the other side . . . playing desk man on
me?”
“Ty, I told you a while ago, I could only hang so far out before
the branches started shaking.”
“Then you don’t know anything.” Tyrone said in negotiation.
Keep Bob officially uninformed and unofficially informed. “You
don’t know that NEMO has helped to identify four of the black-
mailers and a handful of the Freedom Freaks. You don’t know that
we have gotten more reliable information from Mason’s kids than
from ECCO, CERT, NIST and NSA combined. They’re up in the clouds
with theory and conjecture and what-iffing themselves silly.
NEMO is in the streets. A remote control informer if you like.”
“What else don’t I know?”
“You don’t know that NEMO has been giving us security holes in
some of our systems. You don’t know that Mason’s and other
hackers have been working on the Freedom viruses.”
“Some systems? Why not all?”
“They still want to keep a few trapdoors for themselves.”
“See what I mean!” exclaimed Burnson. “They can’t be trusted.”
“They are not on our payroll. Besides, it’s them or no one,”
Tyrone calmly said. “They really would like to keep the real-bad
guys off of the playing field, as they put it.”
“And keep the spoils for their own use.”
“It’s a trade-off I thought was worthwhile.”
“I don’t happen to agree, and neither does the Director’s
office.”
“I thought you didn’t know . . .”
“Word gets around. We have to cap this one, Ty. It’s too hot.
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