Things that shouldn't be found become found. Computers and actions alike.
Calvin dropped his backpack at the door, grabbed a snack, and walked into his room. He went to sit down at his desk and start on his homework, but the papers landed not on wood but on plastic and keys. He broke out of the routine trance, and realized there was a computer sitting at his desk. It wasn’t the one that had been in the family room though; this was a new machine, and by the looks of it, a very nice one. He tried to take a guess at the monitor’s size, but realized there was a sticky note on it. “Happy 10^th^! Double digit age means double the computers. See you when we get home! Love, M+D.”
Calvin excitedly pulled the note off, threw his homework onto the bed in the corner, and hit the power button. The off-white box hummed to life, beeped, and threw him into the Windows 98 setup process. He hammered through the process and, a few minutes later, got dropped to the desktop.
Despite now having an actually powerful system and internet access, he still wasn’t quite sure where to start. The only thing he’d heard of was this “Internet Relay Chat” program that was mentioned on the poster for a computing club. He opened up the client, and there was only one example network: HackNet.
``` channel: #lounge on irc.hack.net
topic: Discuss anything! Harpoon recommendation: BLTR 30F, spec 12. Ask NetBlaster for information.
chat:
NetBlaster: it’s the best harpoon in its class. the magnet can also actually stick to stuff, unlike the CX series.
CrashOverride: the cx series can also reel you in from a full extension in less than 3 decades
NetBlaster: if you’re using them right, with inlines on a highspeed motorway, then you don’t really need reel speed. that’s what the 70mph cars are for, and why the terrible magnet in the CX is an even bigger problem
CrashOverride: the inlines you recommend start to fucking disintegrate above 25mph. i don’t want to hear about your “highway usage”
CrashOverride: oh hey, new face. hi bxi. if you’re looking for harpoons, don’t ask NetBlaster whatever you do. get a cx30 and actually get places.
Calvin slowly pecked out a message.
bxi: i'm new to the net, what do you mean harpoons and inlines?
CrashOverride: ooh, we got a live one!
CrashOverride: i assume you’re trying to get into hacking?
bxi: yeah, i suppose so. already know a bit of programming though, networking is new to me.
CrashOverride: aight. if you’re just a programmer, then god knows you need to get out some more. go buy some Klick inline rollerblades and a HarpSong CX45 harpoon. then go and actually meet people. there are more hackers than you’d expect, even afk.
NetBlaster: also, don’t mention you’re new. the 1337 crax0r assholes WILL bully you. ```
He looked at the monitor for a moment. It took him a second to parse that these were in fact real people, somewhere in the world, part of a community that spanned that world.
And now Calvin got to take part.
“Yes, mom, I did the homework. I don’t intend to fail another class. No, the computer isn’t ‘distracting’ me from my schoolwork.”
The door shut behind him, and Calvin pushed off. Tuesday mornings were never a fun time, what with the sleep deprivation from Monday starting to hit but the sleep schedule not quite adjusted. Didn’t help that the district had decided 6:00am was a suitable time for 8^th^ graders to start class.
Whatever the case, he was up, and it was a beautiful morning to be on inlines. Calvin rolled into the courtyard and pushed on to class. At this stage most everything they were covering was a review for him, so he opted to just crack open his laptop and hang out on IRC. He logged into his client and went to say “hi” in one of his regular channels, but as soon as he was connected a message popped up in his chat list.
(11.211.12.60) GeorgeWBush privmsg @ bxi: Freedom, by its nature, cannnot be imposed.
Calvin blinked a moment at it. A pretty normal spam message on the surface of things, but one detail stood out: that user IP mask was in the 11. /8 IP block. That’s entirely reserved for United States Department of Defense intel gathering systems. There were only a couple dozen IP addresses actually used in that entire block, and they were some of the most highly secured computer systems in the world. This wasn’t a hack; it was a message from inside the department.
Calvin cracked open his search engine and typed in the quote, word for word. There were no results. This was a new sentence, but it still felt on-brand for Bush in a way he couldn’t quite quantify.
While he was pondering, one more line popped up in the conversation window:
GeorgeWBush has quit (network timeout).
Again, Calvin took a second to parse the sentence.
His gaze broke off from the computer, and he looked up at his teacher, well into a lecture about some now-unknowable topic.
Calvin looked back down at the laptop, opened a terminal, and hammered out one line, trembling as he struck the return key.
``` nmap -Pn 11.211.12.60
open ports: 21 (file transfer) 23 (remote access) 80 (http web) ```
There… weren’t any open ports on DoD intel systems. They had all closed ports, and the only time they made an outgoing connection was if you were about to get bombed and/or invaded. Yet here it was. Calvin logged into a remote machine, and ran another port scan. But then: nothing came back. There were no open ports, according to this new scan. He dropped back to his local machine, and ran the command again. The same three ports were open.
He leaned forward a bit, took a breath, and typed in another command.
``` curl 11.211.12.60
http: 200 OK
html webpage data:
<h1> PersonaMimic project </h1>
<p> Access is restricted to dedicated project personnel. If you have access, visit /authenticate and log in. </p>
<p> This page is only to be viewed by National Security Agency personnel with Top Secret clearance. </p> ```
Calvin mumbled to himself, “...in some deep shit now…” and proceeded to try the other ports. They yielded unhelpful results, and a few minutes later he found himself back on the web server. He opened his browser and keyed in the IP address, and tagged on a /authenticate at the end. The page scanned in, and there was just one piece of text.
“The authentication portal isn’t done. Go ahead and just hit the button below, it’ll log you in as administrator.”
Calvin looked at the page again. The link was just to run some JavaScript code that generated a key and logged him in, so with a decisive click, he pressed the button.
It wasn’t dramatic. The page loaded up, and gave him a short list of pages. Source code, demo portal, target list, configuration-
He glanced back and clicked on the “target list” option. Another few seconds of loading time and another list of links came up, but this time it caught his attention much more closely.
It was a list of usernames? He wasn’t sure why the DoD would have a list of online screen names, but with the first entry being “NetBlaster” he was willing to make the guess. He clicked on the username, and that’s when he froze.
Screen name: NetBlaster
Legal name: Steven Thompson
Target address: 3244 Helen Ave. Sundale California
Time to apprehension: 12:43pm September 12^th^ 2002, 4w ago
Record: Epic Games, Valve Softworks, Zombie Studios
Relationships: Examined. See takeo mabell bxi
NetBlaster hadn’t been online in a while. The assumption was just that he was off on one of his weird adventures, but… he’d been “apprehended” by a federal defense agency the day after 9/11’s anniversary. It all lined up too well.
Calvin hit the back button, and clicked the next entry. It was the same format. Different details, but they were all there. The “Record” listed companies that had all had hacks just before the “apprehension” date. Calvin ran a quick command to check the listings, and then the number came back: 1,033 lines. 1,033 entries in the list. 1,033 people, hackers, listed on a DoD intel gathering system.
And the next one on the list that wasn’t “apprehended” was bxi. Calvin clicked on it, and set his head on his laptop.
“Calvin!” He snapped up, banging his head and almost knocking his laptop off the desk. “Put away that damn computerboxmachine and pay attention. The entirety of 2002 is behind you and what do you have to show for it?”
“…more than you’ve taught, at least…” he muttered.
“Speak up!”
“Plenty, ma’am.”
“You’re supposed to say ‘nothing’! Just... pay attention.”
Calvin nodded and reached up to part his hair, but his hand came down covered in blood. “Uh, teach? I think I’m bleeding out.”
“God dam- Okay. Calvin. Pack your stuff, go home. Don’t die for at least a month, you still need to make up those homework assignments.”
He gave a lightheaded thumbs-up to the teacher and walked out the door. On his way out, he poked his head into the nurse’s office (now especially aware of the dimensions of his skull) and asked the nurse if he should be concerned.
“A quick glance tells me you’ll be alright, it seems pretty surface level. Should start coagulating in a few minutes. Come over to the sink and I’ll wash it out. We can hold some pressure on it and you should be right to head out.”
A few moments later, as Calvin was drying his hair, him and the nurse heard a commotion outside in the hall. Heavy footsteps ran down the hallway, and the two stepped into the hallway.
“CALVIN REYKJAVIK, WE REPRESENT THE UNITED STATES NATIONAL SECURITY ADMINSTRATION CYBERSECURITY TASK FORCE! SURRENDER YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY!”
Calvin looked at the nurse, who in turn looked at Calvin.
“The fuck did you do?! Hack the President?” panicked the nurse.
“To be fair, it’s… not far off.” Returned Calvin.
The nurse looked at him. “Well? You planning on handing yourself over, or are you going to put up a fight?”
“Wasn’t planning on fighting the people with guns, but…”
“I wasn’t saying that- just- fucking run, alright?!”
“...I’ll take that advice.” Calvin quietly pulled out his rollerblades and slipped into them, and silently peeked into the hallway. Seeing it was clear, he slowly inched out further and further.
“Oi!” Calvin looked back at the nurse. “Good luck. Message bloxor on IRC once you’re safe.” He gave him a small three-wave and pushed off into the hallway.
From down in the classroom, he heard a shaky, tentative voice ring out. “Calvin left to go home just a minute ago. He’s probably out of the building by this point…”
The thunder started up again and hammered out of the classroom, into the hallway, as the entrance door thunked shut behind Calvin. “He’s headed out of the building! Go, go, go!”
The clapping picked up in pace, and Calvin skated off down the hill towards the highway on-ramp. Engines roared to life in the school parking lot, followed by the screeching of tires as they raced after Calvin. He leaned off to the right and felt the pavement roughen beneath him as the roar of the highway grew ever closer, until he was well into the acceleration lane. Cars flew past his left while his pursuers grew rapidly closer behind him.
He readied his harpoon and gave it a hard throw at a passing vehicle. The magnet latched on, and tether spooled to an end out of his wrist, bringing him up to speed. He glanced behind him and saw the agents glancing around, confused, as they pulled onto the shoulder.
Calvin reeled himself into the back of the car he was attached to, and carefully climbed onto the roof. He pulled out his laptop, tabbed over to his terminal, and punched in one command: “n: all emergency”. One message appeared in his usual chat, and he closed the terminal and opened the routing software.
``` Starting location: Highway 57, New York
Destination: 3244 Helen Ave. Sundale California
Routing type: [Custom] Harpoon inlining ```
Calvin looked up from the computer, to the highway stretching in front of him, the feds receding behind him, and let out his first real breath since that damn ping came in on IRC.
``` Notification on account [CrashOverride]:
Ping from bxi in #lounge on irc.hack.net
message: Emergency tracking enabled. Key: se3flsrn3rnpuclwnsnf \@notifyall
Message script-trigger detected: “Emergency tracking enabled.” Would you like to execute the script “autoflightbook && buildinglockdown && diskwipe” ```