Terminal Compromise
a life of its own. The sublime, light blue walls and specially fitted blue tint light bulbs added a calming influence to the constant
ng the floor and in and out of the control centers for the hundreds of millions of dollars of the most sophisticated computers in the world. Only five years ag
and he was sure a couple of cameras and micro- phones. He had been held for a lea
Agency, S Group, his office was sealed and guarded by an armed marine. His computer was disconnected, and he was escorted to
Foster from a vast array of computer memory banks. They could dial up any major computer system within the United States, and most around the world. The purpose, ostensibly, of having such power was to
f it and the President was only told after it had been completed, black funded by a non-line item accountable budget. Computer Room C-12 is one of only two electronic doors into the National Data Base - a digital
it card activity. They pulled 3 years tax records from the IRS, medical records from the National Medical Data Base which connects hospitals nationwide, travel records from American carriers, customs checks, video rental hist
s, and the real reasons behind his resignation, they wanted to make sure that there weren't a few little details he wasn't telling them. Like, perhaps gam- bling debts, women on the side, (he was single) or women on the wr
e had worked for years, almost his entire profes- sional life. He traveled some, Caribbean cruises, nothing osten- tatious but in style, had a reasonable savings account, only used 2 credit cards and he owed no
es lighter than the surrounding paint. Two of the four fluorescent bulbs were out, hiding some of the peeling paint on the ceiling. Against one wall was a row of file cabinets with la
. But most of the time he was alone. Miles paced the room during the prolonged waits. He pok
s stretching and exer- cising his svelte 5
e longish side but immac- ulately styled. His demeanor dripped elegance, even when he wore torn jeans, and he knew it. It was merely another personal asset that Miles had learned how to use to his best advantage. Miles was re
things depend- ing upon how he twitched his dimples. A frown could mean, "I'm real angry, seriously", or "I'm just giving you shit", or "You bore me, go away", or more to Miles' p
th the entire process. The IAS wasn't going to find anything.
an ax could even get through this' door. The fourth IAS man to questi
ruptly blurted out even before sitting in one of the
hundred times." The disgust in his voice was obvious an
You haven't told me yet." This
word. Is that what you want?" Miles gave away something. He showed, for the first time, real anger. The intellect in Miles saw what the emotion was doing, so his br
nd. He gently shook and looked up sideways. He was very co
th," the IAS man bellow
ld shit, and that pleasure, too, he was being denied. But he ha
ke my work, I don't like the bureaucracy that goes with it. That's it. After over 10 years here, I expected some sort of recognition o
not yesterday or tomorrow, or the next day, or next week. Why today?" The IAS man blew smok
practical' and set it up for another review in 18 months. That was it. Finis! The end, the proverbial straw that you've been
ctor? Most of your work is classified." T
comm guy. I think the military call it the revolving d
bly go to work for
AS man sarcast
dispersion on his heritage. "They're relatives, that's it. Holidays, food, turkey, ham, and a
ed and his files were transferred into the 'Monitor' section, where they would sit for at least one year. The IAS people had finally satisfied themselves that Miles Foster was a dissatisfied, underpaid government
he hated his stupid, stupid bosses, the bungling bureaucratic behemoths who didn't have the first idea of what he and his type did. Nowhere did Miles' frustration and resultant build up of resentment and anger show up in an
olicited proposals for changes in cryptographic and communications techniques to improve the s
. The rejection of proposal number thirty-
*
of her hand into forehead. She was not exactly fond of her daughter marrying outside family. But, it was a good marriage, 3 great kids, or as good as
sters, a mother, an aunt and a grandmother all living under the same roof with Miles, any male companionship, role model if you will, was acceptable. Mario kept the
thought it would be a good idea for him to become a man. Only 60 miles from Las Vegas lived the country's only legal brothels. Very conv
st, Miles figured about 130mph, in his Red Ferrari on Highway 10, heading West from Vegas. Mari
les worried. Speeding was against the law. So was drinking and driving. The police officer walked over to the driver side of the Ferrari. Uncle Mario lowered the window to let th
nothing to go on my insurance. I gotta good driving record, y'know?" Mario was
p citation, for your contributions to the publi
ghed and put the gun back in his shoulder holster. Miles s
so fired up? You know the lim
the world, y'know what I mean?" Miles wasn't sure what he meant, but
ere making fun of him. "I remember my first time. It was in a pick up truck, out in the desert. Went for fucking ever! Know what I mean? The cop winked at Miles who was humiliat
e. No prob
ia
as planned. Miles thanked his uncle in a way that brought tears to Mario's eyes.
*
son's manhood. She was trying to protect him from the influence of her relatives. Miles was gauged
er family, knew that they dealt in gambling, some drugs, an occasional rough-up of an opponent, but preferred to ignore
ing and raving all about. But Miles was delectable bait to the Family. His mathematical wizardry could assist greatly in gamin
the top. He was protected. Miles was titillated with the attention, but he still listened to his mother. She came b
Miles came to expect the same treatment from everyone, especially women. They praised him so,
other. He put women on pedestals, and treated them like queens. Even on a beer budget Miles could convince his lady that they were sailing the Caribbean while baking in the desert suburbs of Las Vegas. Women succumbe
y had allowed him to convince himself that he was going to change the world. He was the single most important person that could have an effect on civilization. Invincible. Can do no wrong. Miles w
as the answer to every problem. All questions can be reduced to formulas and symbols. Th
enomenon was discrete in nature and none were continuous. Given that arguable position, he was able to develop a set of mathematical tools that would permit dissection of a problem into much sma
and best computers in the world at your fingertips. Always the newest and the best. What- ever you need, it'll be there. And that's a promise. Super secret important work - oh how his mother would be proud. Miles accepted, b
d his particular skills as a mathematician. The NSA got from Miles what they wanted; his mathematical tools modified to work for govern- ment security projects. For a couple of years,
rough committee. Everyone made proposals. You not only needed a good idea for a good project, good enough to justify the use of 8 b
t stink attitude proved to be an insurmountable political obstacle. He was unable to ever garner much support for his proposals. Thus, not one of them was ever taken seriously. Which compounded the problem and reinforced Miles' increas
*
digital readout on the phone told him that it was an internal call,
ons," The ch
. We're checkin
DIRNSA? Ca
he g
ssi
yth
si
Close t
ir
it. F
*
er, 4 Y
n, Washin
Beltway Bandits, a simultaneously endearing and self-deprecating title given to those who make their living selling products or services to the Federal Government. Miles
herefore valuable, especially to companies who want to sell widgets to the government. As the days and months wear on, new policies, new people, new arrange- ments and confederacies are in place. Washington's trans
heir men- strual cycles to make sure they wouldn't waste his time. If he thought a particular female had extraord
se who could help start his career in the private sector. "F
in the nation's capital. The better parties, the ones for generals, for movers and for shakers, for digni- taries and others of immediate importance, are graced with a generous sprinkling of strikingly beautiful women. They are paid for by the hosts, for the pleasure of th
een discarded long ago by its owners in favor of a neo-modern structure on Reservoir Road. The house was appointed with a strikingly southern ante-bellum fl
m Washington's muggy, swamp-like summer air were welcomed by those braving the heat in the
began at seven, and unless tradition was broken, it would be over by 10 as the last of the girls finds
to do - meet people, sell himself, play the game, talk the line, do the scht
ad just arrived, maybe she was leftovers. Well, it was getting late, and he shouldn't let a woman go to waste, so
shimmering auburn hair shoulder length. Angelic, he thought. Perfectly formed full lips and statuesque cheek bones underscored her sweetly intense brown eyes. Miles went to work, and by 10P.M., he and Stephanie Per
eekend together was heaven in bed; playing, making love, giggling, ordering in Chinese and pizza. Playing more, watching I Love Lucy reruns, drinking champagne, and making love. Miles bounced quarters on her taut stomach and cracked eggs on her exq
ther period of blissful after- glow
queezing her buttocks. Hi
yes." She looked up
ork for anyone?" Sh
ked in return. He wasn't
not an American company.
own inquisitively. "F
?" He sounded
Just curious. I thought you were a consultant, and
t?" He relaxed as Stephanie's
some people that could use you. They're not Am
same to me. Unless they're commies. My form
m, and maybe you two can get to
ing you want, but can we talk
*
1 hour meeting. Not a bad start, he thought. His reputa- tion obviously preceded him. Stephanie was hired to recruit him, that was obvious. And that bothered Miles. He was being used. Wasn't
that this was the same route that KAL Flight 007 had taken in 1983 before it was shot down by the Soviets, but he w
of New York when one of the flight at
rom the New York City
a large sealed envelope. His name had been writ
id Miles. He to
ened the strange env
single sheet of p
R WELCOME
A AIRPORT BY MY DRIVER AND C
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23. ALL ARRANGEME
ECTF
HOM
mportant things to do. His membership in the Mile High Club was in
ay later in Tokyo. Miles was
*
y, Sept
orth Internat
erican 1137, hea
ud and green. Maintain 125, full
fic D
trong. On again off agai
eer
sheer monitor. You got it made. Have to ba
40, 215 40. Maint
er 1
traffic controllers appear pallid under the haunting light emitted from around the consoles. Severe weather patterns, afternoon Te
at had kept shift replacements from arriving on time. Planes were late coming in, late departing, connections were being missed. Tensions were hi
newest and youngest, and least burnt
Phillips came right
king at the
?" Paul pointed at thre
at are thos
re," he pointed, "that was Delta 210. It's gone." Paul spoke calmly, in the p
py 14, please. Fast." Chad looked over to Mike's screen and saw the sam
, circle. He's at 4
rd transponder." Chad spoke rapidly
any visuals on the bogies
last. In less than a minute he had verified that Delta 210 was not on any screen, three other
"American 1137, requesting update.
said nervously. "Give
what's th
a chec
ansportation that a potential situa- tion was developing. The Enhanced Traffic Management Syst
ute Traffic Control Centers) to an FAA Technical Center in Atlantic City and then sent by land and satellite to a DoT Systems Center. There, an
d confirmed that the airplanes in question were not appearing on the Nationa
re!" Another controll
e bogies than Paul's. "I
t is
3
wire, divert all traffic. Call the boss. We're closing it down." The controllers had the power to close the airport, and direct all fli
ul. "That's three 37's gone.
on 737's else- where. "Chad, we're not the only on
those outer markers, people. Tell them to believe their eyes. Find the 37's.
American 1137 ordered his plane to accelerate ground- ward for 10 seco
day. What the fuck's
e than the f
to be all over DFW and a dozen other airports within hours, and Chad wanted to be prepared. He ordered a formal notification to Boeing
he Boeing 737's disappeared from the radar screen, re
nding . . .we have several injured passenger
ck blurted back. "Co
d the shaken A
y 21B. We'll
*
ts and the FAA directed that every 737 be immediately grounded. Chaos reigned in the airline terminals as delays of several hours to a day were announced for most flights. Police were n
d VFR landings, and the planes had enough fuel, they were redirected to nearby airports. Nearly a dozen emergency landings in a two hours period set n
co, Atlanta, and Tampa. When all 737's were accounted for, the individual airports and the FAA lifted flight restrictions and left it to the airli
heir reservation comp
good
*
EATES PANIC ON GRO
ntrollers and pilots working in harmony," a spokesperson for The Department of Transportation said
d to fly commercially until a full investigation has taken place." the s
tion, as a result of injuries sustained while pilots performed
ut the possibility of sabotage. According to Harold Greenwood, an aeronautic elec- tronics specialist with Air Systems Design in Alpharetta, Geor- gia, "there is a real and defi
one the less, flight cancellations busied the phones at most airlines and travel agencies, while the gargantuan task of rescheduling thousands of flights
by at least 10% and as much as 40% on so
the DoT was one of both bitterness and sh
'll take t
s blame the computers.
mpanies. Something goes a little w
e a series of preventative maintenance steps on other airplanes' com
could not guarantee prior service performance for 3 to 6 months. Preliminary estimates place the cost of
e news, and transportation stocks dov
e airline industry for its handling of the situation and w
the airlines and Boeing as a result of the computer
*
Mason. "Not another computer virus story . . ." Sco
ordered in fun. "You are t
tion for himself, and for the New York City Times. Doug had had to eat his words from years earlier more times than he cared to remember, but Scott's
re," said Scott trying to politely ignore
at Scott's nonchalance on critical issues were legendary. "The man who puts Cold Fusion on the front
one. "I finally got someone to go on the record about t
will give you a litt
en working
ime a dozen and worse, there's no one behind it
e words that his paper wouldn't be caught dead printing. "Besides, you're the o
hate t
ed it to Doug. Scott's original idea had worked. Scott Mason alone, under the banner of the N
s when he connived his way into a job with the Times, and wit
ldly arrogant but very likable Mason had gotten cornered him, somehow bypassing personnel. Points f
he long techni- cal terms that science hides behi
a computer column . . .and we pick up the
can write about the machines and the computers and the software. I'm talkin
be interested,
was w
s required for survival. The antics of the Kay family earned Mason a respectable following in his articles and contributions as well as several libel and slander suits from the Kays. Trouble was, it's not
ted interests in palladium and iridium mining concerns. He also discovered how the experiments had been staged well enough to fool most experts. Scott had located one expert
t the government didn't heed the whistle blower's advice. The optical measurement computers which grind the mirrors of the telescope had a software progra
on was the one reporter who had established enough of a reputation as both a fair reporter, and also one that understood the technolo
sers to be shipped to the testing ground outside of Las Vegas - Scott Mason was there. He traced the Li
probabilities. Therefore, if some- thing is possible, someone, somewhere will do it. Gu
elieve that there isn't interesting, human interest and profound news to be found, is pure blindness. The fear of the unknown, the ignoranc
e and technical apathy and made he and the Times
tt Mason was not considered a competitor to the other reporters because of his areas of inter- est and the skills he brought with him to the paper. And, he didn't flaunt his knowledge. To Scott's way of thinking, techni- cal flue
*********************