Terminal Compromise, Winn Schwartau [sight word books txt] 📗

that the computer was booting. It was going

through its self diagnostics as it did every time power was

applied.

Normally, after a few seconds, the Mac would come alive and the

screen would display a wide range of options from which she could

select. Mary would watch the procedure carefully each time – she

was an efficient secretary.

This time, however, the screen displayed a new message, one she

had not seen in the nine months she had worked as Congressman

Gompers’ front line.

RAM OPTIMIZER TEST PROCEDURE.... INITIALIZING...

THIS PROGRAM IS DESIGNED TO TAKE MAXIMUM ADVANTAGE OF SYSTEM

STORAGE CAPABILITIES. THE TEST WILL ONLY TAKE A FEW SECONDS...

WAITING.... WARNING: DO NOT TURN OFF COMPUTER DURING SELF TEST!

As she was trained, she heeded her computer’s instructions. She

watched and waited as the computer’s hard disk whirred and

buzzed. She wasn’t familiar with the message, but it sounded

quite official, and after all, the computer is always right.

And she waited. Some few seconds, she thought, as she dove into

her second donut. And she waited through the third donut and

another mug of too sweet coffee.

She waited nearly a half an hour, trying to oblige the instruc-

tions from the technocratic box on her desk. The Mac continued

to work, so she thought, but the screen didn’t budge from it’s

warning message.

What the hell, this has taken long enough. What harm can it

cause if . . .

She turned the power switch off and then back on. Nothing.

The computer did absolutely nothing. The power light was on, the

disk light was on, but the screen was as blank as a dead televi-

sion set.

Mary called Violet Beecham, a co worker in another office down

the hall.

“‘Morning Vi. Mary.”

Violet sounded agitated. “Yeah, Mare, what is it?”

“I’m being a dumb bunny and need a hand with my computer. Got a

sec?” Mary’s sweetness oozed over the phone.

“You, too? You’re having trouble? My computer’s as dead as a

doornail. Won’t do anything. I mean nothing.” Violet was

frustrated as all get out and the concern communicated to Mary.

“Dead? Vi, mine is dead too. What happened to yours?”

“Damned if I know. It was doing some self check or something,

seemed to take forever and then . . .nothing. What about yours?”

“Same thing. Have you called MIS yet?”

“Not yet, but I’m getting ready to. I never did trust these

things. Give me a typewriter any day.”

“Sure Vi. I’ll call you right back.”

Mary looked up the number for MIS Services, the technical magi-

cians in the basement who keep the 3100 Congressional computers

alive.

“Dave here, can I help you?” The voice spoke quickly and indif-

ferently.

“Mary Wallstone, in Gompers office. My computer seems to be

having a little problem . . .” Mary tried to treat the problem

lightly.

“You and half of Congress. Listen . . .is it Mary? This morning

is going to be a slow one. My best guess is that over 2500 com-

puters died a quick death. And you know what that mean.”

“No, I don’t…” Mary said hesitantly.

“It means a Big Mac Attack.”

“A what?”

“Big Mac, it’s a computer virus. We thought that Virus-Stop

software would stop it, but I guess there’s a new strain out

there. Congress is going to be ordering a lot of typewriters and

legal pads for a while.”

“You mean you can’t fix it? This virus?”

“Listen, it’s like getting the flu. Once you got it, you got it.

You can’t pretend you aren’t sick. Somebody took a good shot at

Congress and well . . .they won. We’re gonna be down for a

while. Couple of weeks at least. Look, good luck, but I gotta

go.” Dave hung up.

Mary ate the other three donuts intended for her boss as she sat

idle at her desk wondering if she would have a job now that there

were no more computers on Capitol Hill.

CONGRESS CATCHES FLU – LOSES FAT IN PROCESS by Scott Mason, New York City Times

The Congressional Budget Office announced late yesterday that it

was requesting over $1 Million in emergency funding to counter a

devastating failure of Congress’s computers.

Most of the computers used by both Senators and Representatives

are Apple Macintosh, but Apple Computer issued a quick statement

denying any connection between the massive failures and any

production problems in their machines.

The CBO said that until the problems were corrected, estimates to

take up to four weeks, that certain normal Congressional activi-

ties would be halted or severely curtailed. Electronic mail, E-

Mail that has saved taxpayers millions, will be unavailable for

communications until October at a minimum. Inter-office communi-

cations, those that address legislative issues, proposed bills,

and amendments have been destroyed and will require “. . .weeks

and weeks and weeks of data entry just to get back where we

started. This is a disaster.”

The culprit is, of course, a computer virus. The question on

everyone’s mind is, was this virus directed at Congress, or were

they merely an anonymous and unfortunate victim?

I have an IBM PC clone at home. Technically it’s an AT with a

hard disk, so I’m not sure if that’s an XT, and AXT, an XAT, an

ATX or . . .well whatever. I use it to write a lot of my stories

and then I can send the story to the computer at work for an

overdiligent editor to make it fit within my allotted space.

It never occurred to me that a computer could get sick.

I am, as we all are, used to our ‘TV going on the Fritz’, or

‘Blowing a Fuse’. It seems like a lot of things blow: a gasket

blows, a light bulb blows, a tire blows or blows out, the wind

blows. I am sure that Thomas W. Crapper, the 19th century inven-

tor of the flush toilet would not be pleased that in 1988 man has

toasters and other cooking devices that ‘crap out’. The Phone

Company ‘screws up’, the stock market ‘goes to hell in a handbas-

ket’ and VCR’s ‘work for s__t’.

It never occurred to me that a computer could get sick.

Computers are supposed to ‘crash’. That means that either Aunt

Tillie can’t find the ON switch or her cat knocked it on the

floor. Computers have ‘fatal errors’ which obviously means that

they died and deserve a proper burial.

It never occurred to me that a computer could get sick.

In the last few weeks there have been a lot of stories about

computers across the country getting ill. Sick, having the flu,

breathing difficulty, getting rashes, itching, scratching them-

selves . . .otherwise having a miserable time.

Let’s look at the medical analogy to the dreaded computer virus

that indiscriminately attacks and destroys any computer with

which it comes in contact.

Somewhere in the depths of the countryside of the People’s

Republic of China, a naturally mutated submicroscopic microbe has

the nerve to be aerodynamically transferred to the smoggy air of

Taiwan. Upon landing in Taipei, the microbe attaches itself to

an impoverished octogenarian who lives in an overpopulated 1 room

apartment over a fish store.

The microbe works its way into this guy’s blood stream, unbek-

nownst to him, and in a few days, he’s sicker than a dog. But

this microbe is smart, real smart. It has heard of antibiotics,

and in the spirit of true Darwinism, it replicates itself before

being killed off with a strengthened immunity. So, the microbe

copies itself and when Kimmy Chen shakes hands with his custom-

ers, some of them are lucky enough to receive an exact duplicate,

clone if you will, of his microbe. Then they too, get ill.

The microbe thus propagates its species until the entire East

Coast of the US has billions and trillions of identical microbes

costing our fragile economy untold millions of dollars in sick

pay.

However, the microbe is only so smart. After a while, the mi-

crobe mutates itself into a benign chemical compound that no

longer can copy itself and the influenza epidemic is over. Until

next year when Asian Flu B shows up and the process begins all

over again. (The same group of extremists who believe that the

Tri-Lateral commission runs the world and Queen Elizabeth and

Henry Kissinger are partners in the heroine trade think the AMA

is behind all modern flu epidemics. No comment.)

The point of all of this diatribe is that computers can get sick

too. With a virus.

Don’t worry, mom. Your computer can’t give you the flu anymore

than your fish can get feline leukemia.

It all started years ago, before Wozniak and Apple and the PC.

Before personal computers there were mainframes; huge room sized

computers to crunch on numbers. One day, years ago, Joe, (that’s

not a real name, it’s changed to protect him) decided it would be

great fun to play a prank on Bill, another programmer who worked

at a big university. Joe wrote a little program that he put into

Bill’s big computer. Every time Bill typed the word ‘ME’ on