[12826] in Commercialization & Privatization of the Internet
My Beat is Cyberspace - Episodes 12-14
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (The future Ross Stapleton-Gray)
Mon May 30 10:13:01 1994
Date: Sun, 29 May 1994 20:02:12 -0700 (MST)
From: The future Ross Stapleton-Gray <STAPLETON@bpa.arizona.edu>
To: com-priv@psi.com
[The previous three episodes of "My Beat is Cyberspace," originally
aired 26-30 April, 1993.]
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My Beat is Cyberspace - Episode 12, "Death on the Nets"
I got the call at 6 am. It was the chief. Another murder on the nets.
Another stiff on my beat. My beat is Cyberspace.
I telnetted down to the waterfront, and found the chief and a couple of
boys from uptown looking at a body face down in the street. The
stiff. By his clothes I'd peg him for a university type. He was as
dead as a European white male in today's curriculum, and even next to
the chief looked out of sorts.
I strolled up to the chief and scoped the stiff up close; one bullet
hole, in the back of the neck. Neat job. "Who kicked the bit
bucket?" I asked the chief. "Guy named Cox. Brad Cox. Outtatown
grifter, been peddling objects down on the docks." "Uhuh. How'd he
get whacked?" The chief held up a shiny piece of cold, hard reality.
"Silver bullet." "No fooling?" "Yeah," said the chief, "there was
one, and the other guys got it first..."
I caught a cab back uptown, and got the office on the cellular. "Pack
me a suitcase, doll. I'm on the case."
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My Beat is Cyberspace - Episode 13, "No, No, No Net"
I stopped off at the office to pick up the suitcase from Effie. I
found her wringing her hands and looking worried. "Sam," she moaned,
as I stepped off the elevator, "they're at it again." Them. Those
guys. I looked out the window, saw the van down in the alley.
"Eclectic Freeway Fixation." A fly-by-night electrician's outfit
from out East; I'd gotten a client of theirs off one time, and they
had decided to reward me by rewiring the neighborhood with cheap
Japanese copper. The foreman stalked in and waved an enormous wad of
spreadsheets under my nose. "It's a piece of cake," he said.
"We've got our end figured out. We just gotta persuade everybody
else we're right. And that's the easy part." I looked out in the
alley. A half dozen guys in Hawaiian shirts were pulling copper
cables in random directions, with a certain inexplicable urgency.
"Uhuh," I muttered, "just keep outta the way."
I crossed the office and sat down behind the desk, and pulled a bottle
of scotch out of the top drawer. Pouring myself a half glass of the
stuff, I hashed over what I knew. A stiff, dead from a silver bullet
to the neck. Peddling objects. The stuff dreams are made of?
Nah, just bits, plain old bits. It was a professional hit, obvious
from the M.O. Coulda been anybody. A guy doesn't last long in the
business less he knows when he needs help. I needed help. I got
out my library card, and dialed the number...
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My Beat is Cyberspace - Episode 14, "The Plexiglass Key"
The line to the library was busy (probably some kid busy downloading
GIFs off alt.barney.bondage...I grimaced) and I gave it up; I was due
to hop a flight outta town in an hour and still had miles to go before
I schlepped. I caught a tax downstairs at the curb and headed down
toward the business district.
I got out at the pawnshop down on 15th and walked in. "Hey Sam,
long time no see." It was Eddie. Eddie ran a pretty legit joint,
for a pawnshop. Which is like saying DOS 6.0 is a pretty good
operating system, considerin'... "What's the news, Eddie?" I said.
"Business is good, Sam. Been gettin' lots of action since the feds
started going broke." "Uhuh. They got problems?" "Yeah," said
Eddie, "they're spending half a billion just reforesting Montana, you
know, 'cause of that FOIA thing." I'd already picked that up from
the morning paper myself; NSF had already accounted for some fifty
percent of North America's old-growth timber, responding to FOIA
requests.
"So, what're they doing? Pawning T3 routers?" "Nah," said Eddie,
"it was guys from the Federal Reserve, comin' in an' pawning Clipper
keys." Made a whole lotta sense--since the Fed only had to fork over
keys on presentation of some fancypants DA's warrant, they musta had
millions of 80-bit numbers gathering dust on the shelves. "What
happens if someone does show up with a warrant, and the Fed pawned the
key, Eddie?" "Happened just yesterday. They send a guy hotfooting on
over here, and stall." "Could be worse," I said, "at least it's the
Fed. Gotta be a bear gettin' the second key." "Yeah," said Eddie,
"You couldn't *pay* me to go talk to Amway..."
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