Terminal Compromise - Winn Schwartau (fiction book recommendations TXT) 📗
- Author: Winn Schwartau
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exorbitant costs associated with your studies and would not
expect your efforts, on my behalf of course, to go unrewarded.”
George Toft was negotiating with a man he had never met, for a
task as yet unstated. The only reason he didn’t feel the discom-
fort that one should in such a situation is that he was in
desperate need of money. And, this stranger did seem to know who
he was, and did need his particular type of expertise, whatever
that was.
“What exactly do you require of me, Alex. That is, what form of
representation have you in mind?” He might as well find out what
he was supposed to do before naming a price.
Alex laughed. “Merely to be my voice. It is so simple, really.
In exchange for that, and some travel, first class and all ex-
penses to which you are accustomed, you will be handsomely paid.”
Alex looked for Sir George’s reaction to the proposed fees. He
was pleased with what he saw in George’s face.
Crikey, this is too good to be true. What’s the catch.As George ruminated his good fortune and the Metaxa, Alex contin-
ued.
“The job is quite simple, really, but requires a particular
delicacy with which you are well acquainted. Each day you will
receive a list of names. There will be instructions with each
name. Call them at the numbers provided. Say only what is writ-
ten. Keep notes of each call you make and I will provide you
with the means to transmit them to me in the strictest of confi-
dence. You and I will have no further personal contact, either if
you accept or do not accept my proposition. If we are able to
reach mutually agreeable terms, monies will be wired to a bank
account in your name.” Alex opened his jacket and handed George
an envelop. “This is an advance if you accept. It is $25,000
American. There is a phone number to call when you arrive in San
Francisco. Follow the instructions explicitly. If you do not,
there will be no lists for you, no additional monies and I will
want this money back. Any questions Sir George?” Alex was
smiling warmly but as serious as a heart attack.
Alex scanned the contents of the envelope. America. He had
always wanted to see the States.
“Yes, Alex, I do have one question. Is this legal?” George
peered at Alex for a clue.
“Do you really care?”
“No.”
“Off you go then. And good luck.”
Sir George Sterling arrived in San Francisco airport the follow-
ing evening. He flew first class and impressed returning Ameri-
can tourists with his invented pedigree and his construed impor-
tance. What fun. After the virtually nonexistent customs check,
he called the number inside the envelop. It rang three times
before answering. Damn, it was a machine, he thought.
“Welcome to the United States, Sir George. I hope you had a good
flight.” The voice was American, female, and flight attendant
friendly. “Please check into the San Francisco Airport Hilton.
You will receive a call at 11 AM tomorrow. Good night.” A dial
tone replaced the lovely voice. He dialed the number again.
A mechanical voice responded instead. “The number you have called
in no longer in service. Please check the number or call the
operator for assistance. The number you have called is no longer
in service…”
George dialed the number twice more before he gave up in frustra-
tion. He had over $20,000 in cash, knew no one in America and for
the first time in years, he felt abandoned. What kind of joke
was this? Fly half way around the world and be greeted with an
out of service number. But the first voice had known his name.
The Hilton. Why not?
At precisely 11AM, the phone in Sir George Sterling’s suite rang.
He was still somewhat jet lagged from his 18 hours of flying and
the span of 10 time zones. The Eggs Benedict was exquisite, but
Americans could learn something about tea. The phone rang again.
He casually picked it up.
“Good morning, Sir George. Please get a pencil and paper. You
have fifteen seconds and then I will continue.” It was the same
alluring voice from yesterday. The paper and pen were right there
at the phone so he waited through 14 seconds of silence. “Very
good. Please check out of the hotel and pay cash. Proceed to the
San Francisco airport and from a pay phone, call 5-5-5-3-4-5-6 at
1 P.M. Have a note book and two pens with you. Good Bye. ”
The annoying dial tone returned. What a bloody waste of time.
At 1P.M. he called the number as he was instructed. He figured
that since he was to have a notebook and pens he might need to
write for a while, so he used one of the phone booths that pro-
vides a seat and large writing surface.
“Good afternoon Sir George. In ten seconds, your instructions
will begin.” Again, that same voice, but it almost appeared
condescending to him now. Isn’t that the way when you can’t
respond. The voice continued. “Catch the next flight to New
York City. Stay at the Grand Hyatt Hotel at Grand Central Sta-
tion on 42nd. Street and Park Avenue. Not a suite this time, Sir
George, just a regular room.” Sir George was startled at Alex’s
attention to detail.
“You will stay there for fourteen days. On 56th. street and
Madison avenue is a school called CTI, Computer Training Insti-
tute. You are to go to CTI and enroll in the following classes:
DOS, that’s D-O-S for beginners, Intermediate DOS and Advanced
DOS. You will also take WordPerfect I and II. Lastly, and most
importantly you will take all three classes on Tele-Communica-
tions. They call it TC-I, TC-II and TC-III. These eight class-
es will take you ten days to complete. Do not forget to pay in
cash. I will now pause for ten seconds.” Alex was writing furi-
ously. Computers? He was scared silly of them. Not that he had
ever had the opportunity or the need or the desire to use them,
just from lack of exposure and the corresponding ignorance. But
if this meant he could keep the $25,000 he would do it. What the
hell.
“After you enroll, go to 45 West 47th street to a store called
Discount Computer Shoppe. Buy the following equipment with cash.
One Pro-Start 486-80 computer with 8 Meg RAM. That’s 8 M-E-G R-
A-M and ask for a high resolution color monitor. Also purchase,
and have them install a high speed modem, M-O-D-E-M. Do not, I
repeat, do not purchase a printer of any type. No printers Sir
George. You are never to use a printer. Ever. Lastly, you will
purchase a copy of Word Perfect and Crosstalk. If you wish any
games for your amusement, that is up to you. When you have
completed your studies you will call 212-555-6091. Do not call
that number before you have completed your studies. This is
imperative.”
Sir George was just writing, not comprehending a thing. It was
all gibberish to him. Pure gibberish.
“Sir George.” The female voice got serious, very serious for the
first time in their relationship. “You are to speak to no one, I
repeat, no one, of the nature of your business, the manner in
which you receive instructions, or why computers have a sudden
interest for you. Otherwise our deal is off and your advance will
be expected to be returned. Am I clear?”
George responded quickly, “Yes!” before seeing the lunacy of
answering a machine.
“Good,” the voice was friendly again. “Learn your lessons well
for you will need the knowledge to perform your tasks. Until we
speak again, I thank you, Sir George Sterling.” The line went
dead.
George Toft took his computer classes very seriously. He had in
fact bought a few games to amuse himself and he found himself
really enjoying the work. It was new, and exciting. His only
social distractions were the sex shops on Times Square. Red
Light Amsterdam or the Hamburg they weren’t, so midnight antics
with the Mario Brothers prevailed most evenings. Besides, there
was a massive amount of homework. Bloody hell, back to school.
He excelled in his studies which pleased George a great deal. In
fact most of the students in Sir George’s computer classes ex-
celled. The teachers were very pleased to have a group of stu-
dents that actually progressed more rapidly than the curriculum
called for. Pleasant change from the E Train Bimbos from Queens.
The computer teachers didn’t know that a vast majority of the
class members had good reason to study hard. Most of them had
received their own $25,000 scholarships.
* Sunday, September 6 SDSU Campus, San Diego, California.WTFO
the computer screen displayed. That was hackerese, borrowed from
the military for What The Fuck? Over! It was a friendly greeting
that offended no one.
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