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

system response mechanisms

put the count-down on hold until it was determined that intermit-

tent malfunctions could not be repaired without a launch delay.

The launch date has been put back until November 29.”

Permit me to translate this piece of NASA-speak with the straight

skinny.

The anomaly they speak of euphemistically was simple: A computer

hacker, or hackers, got into the NASA computers and caused those

nauseating words to appear on the screen. The implication was

obvious. Their sickening message was a distinct threat to the

safety of the mission and its crew. So, rather than an automat-

ic systems shut-down, as the CNN tape so aptly demonstrates, a

vigilant technician shouted, “Look at the g_______ed monitor for

Chrissakes! Just look!”

While the NASA computers failed to notice that they had been

invaded from an outside source, their able staff prevented what

could have been another national tragedy. Congratulations!

If computer hackers, those insidious little moles who secretively

poke through computer systems uninvited and unchecked, are the

real culprits as well placed NASA sources suggest, they need to

be identified quickly, and be prosecuted to the fullest extent

possible. There are laws that have been broken. Not only the

laws regarding computer privacy, but legal experts say that cases

can be made for Conspiracy, Sedition, Blackmail, Terrorism and

Extortion.

But, according to computer experts, the likelihood of ever find-

ing the interlopers is ” . . .somewhere between never and none.

Unless they left a trail, which good hackers don’t, they’ll get

away with this Scott free.”

Hackers have caused constant trouble to computer systems over the

years, and incidents have been increasing in both number and

severity. This computer assault needs to be addressed immediate-

ly. America insists on it. Not only must the hacker responsible

for this travesty be caught, but NASA must also explain how their

computers can be compromised so easily. If a bunch of kids can

enter one NASA communications computer, then what stops them from

altering flight computers, life support systems and other comput-

er controlled activities that demand perfect operation?

NASA, we expect an answer.

This is Scott Mason, waiting for NASA to lift-off from its duff

and get down to business.

* Friday, November 15 New York City.

Scott Mason picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Scott Mason,” he said without thinking.

“Mr. Mason? This is Captain Kirk.” The voice was serious, but

did not resonate as did the distinctive voice that belonged to

William Shatner. Scott laughed into the phone.

“Live long and prosper.” Mason replied in an emotionless voice.

“I need to talk to you,” the voice came right back.

“So talk.” Scott was used to anonymous callers so he kept the

rhythm of the conversation going.

“You have it all wrong. Hackers aren’t the ones.” The voice was

earnest.

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked innocuously.

“Your articles keep saying that hackers cause all the trouble on

computers. You’re wrong.”

“Says who?” Scott decided to play along.

“Says me. You obviously don’t know about the Code.”

“What code?” This was getting nowhere fast.

“Listen, I know your phone is tapped, so I only have another few

seconds. Do you want to talk?”

“Tapped? What is this all about?” The annoyance was clear in

Scott’s voice.

“You keep blaming everything on hackers. You’re wrong.”

“Prove it.” Scott gave this phone call another 10 seconds.

“I’ve been inside the NASA computers.”

That got Scott to wake up from the droll papers on his desk.

“Are you telling me you wrote the message . . .?” Scott could

not contain his incredulity.

“God, no.” Captain Kirk was firm. “Do you have a modem? At

home?”

“Yeah, so what.” Scott gave the caller only another 5 seconds.

“What’s the number?”

“Is this love or hate?” Time’s up thought Scott.

“News.”

“What?”

“News. Do I talk to you or the National Expos<130>? I figured

you might be a safer bet.” The voice who called himself Captain

Kirk gave away nothing but the competitive threat was effective.

“No contest. If it’s real. What have you got?” Scott paid atten-

tion.

“What’s the number?” the voice demanded. “Your modem.”

“Ok! 914-555-2190.” Scott gave his home modem number.

“Be on at midnight.” The line went dead.

Scott briefly mentioned the matter to his editor, Doug, who in

turn gave him a very hard time about it. “I thought you said

virus hacker connection was a big ho-hum. As I recall, you said

they weren’t sexy enough? What happened?”

“Eating crow can be considered a delicacy if the main course is

phenomonal.”

“I see,” laughed Doug. Creative way out, he thought.

“He said he’d been plowing around NASA computers,” Scott argued.

“Listen, ask your buddy Ben how many crackpots admit to crimes

just for the attention. It’s crap.” Doug was too jaded, thought

Scott.

“No, no, it’s legit,” Scott said defensively. “Sounds like a

hacker conspiracy to me.”

“Legit? Legit?” Doug laughed out loud. “Your last column just

about called for all computer junkies to be castrated and drawn

and quartered before they are hung at the stake. And now you

think an anonymous caller who claims to be a hacker, is for

real? C’mon, Scott. You can’t have it both ways. Sometimes

your conspiracies are bit far fetched . . .”

“And when we hit, it sells papers.” Scott reminded his boss that

it was still a business.

Nonetheless, Doug made a point that hit home with Scott. Could

he both malign computer nerds as sub-human and then expect to

derive a decent story from one of them? There was an inconsist-

ency there. Even so, some pretty despicable characters have

turned state’s evidence and made decent witnesses against their

former cohorts. Had Captain Kirk really been where no man had

been before?

“You don’t care if I dig a little?” Scott backed off and played

the humble reporter.

“It’s your life.” That was Doug’s way of saying, “I told you

there was a story here. Run!”

“No problem, chief.” Scott snapped to mock attention and left

his editor’s desk before Doug changed his mind.

* Midnight Scarsdale, New York

Scott went into his study to watch Nightline after grabbing a

cold beer and turned on the light over his computer. His study

could by all standards be declared a disaster area, which his ex-

wife Maggie often did. In addition to the formal desk, 3 folding

tables were piled high with newspapers, loose clippings, books,

scattered notes, folders, magazines, and crumpled up paper balls

on the floor. The maid had refused to clean the room for 6

months since he blamed her for disposing of important notes that

he had filed on the floor. They were back on good terms, he had

apologized, but his study was a no-man’s, or no maid’s land.

Scott battled to clear a place for his beer as his computer

booted up. Since he primarily used his computer for writing, it

wasn’t terribly powerful by today’s standards. A mere 386SX

running at 20 megahertz and comparatively low resolution VGA

color graphics. It was all he needed. He had a modem in it to

connect to the paper’s computer. This way he could leave the

office early, write his articles or columns at home and still

have them in by deadline. He also owned a GRiD 386 laptop com-

puter for when he traveled, but it was buried beneath a mound of

discarded magazines on one of the built-in floor to ceiling

shelves that ringed the room.

Scott wondered if Kirk would really call. He had seemed paranoid

when he called this afternoon. Phones tapped? Where did he ever

get that idea? Preposterous. Why wouldn’t his phone at home be

tapped if the ones at work were? We’ll see.

Scott turned the old 9″ color television on the corner of the

desk to Nightline. Enough to occupy him even if Kirk didn’t call.

He set the ComPro communications program to Auto-Answer. If

Kirk, or anyone else did call him, the program would automatical-

ly answer the phone and his computer would alert him that someone

else’s computer had called his computer.

He noticed the clock chime midnight as Nightline went overtime to

further discuss the new Soviet Union. Fascinating, he thought.

I grow up in the 60’s and 70’s when we give serious concern to

blowing up the world and today our allies of a half century ago,

turned Cold War enemy, are talking about joining NATO.

At 12:02, Scott Mason’s computer beeped at him. The beeping

startled him.

He looked at the computer screen as a first message appeared.

WTFO

Scott didn’t know what to make of it, so he entered a simple

response.

Hello.

The computer screen paused briefly then came alive again.

ARE YOU SCOTT MASON?

Scott entered ‘Yes’.

THIS IS KIRK

Scott wondered what the proper answer was to a non-question by a

computer. So he retyped in his earlier greeting.

Hello. Again.

IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME?

What a question! Scott answered quickly.

Please be gentle.

NO . . .AT CHATTING ON COMPUTER . . .

I call the computer at work. First time with a stranger. Is it