swivel
May 8th, 2007, 05:29 PM
Nathan’s backpack was shucked off, and fell to the floor with the dull thud of heft. A finger stabbed out, powering up the aged monitor which was framed in peeled and worn stickers. It reluctantly came to life, revealing the system currently engaged in a coded search routine. The phosphorous glow barely reached to the rooms farthest corners, thick blankets nailed up to deny the day’s interference. Briefly, a thin flame sprang up, it’s glare reflecting off of the monitor, revealing oily thumbprints of someone eager to point out images long since faded. In that soft glow, Nathan’s lips curled into a smile, pursed tight with that first inhalation. Three successful Doe’s. $3,000 dollars transferred while he sat in class struggling to learn calculus that he may one day “get a job”.
As with each find, a painful stab of curiosity followed. Who was looking for whom today? The modified PGP encryption he supplied was not able to be cracked. That was the lure for his clients, complete anonymity. The entire process was automated now, it all took place on an on-line data warehouse, where temporary storage was free. The various routines scattered about the net in fake personal websites, all coded in white text on a white background, blazingly obvious to anyone that highlighted the screen. But no one would, he made sure the site was too dull for that. And even if they were uncovered, one would have to acquire dozens of routines to discern their intent. Maybe the DMV crack would be obvious to an expert hacker, but he doubted it.
In a separate window, Nathan drew up his account to verify the transactions. The password to whichever data haven he chose for the results dump was the account verification number. No money, no name. All three clients had already claimed their prize. Maybe a deadbeat dad was going to get a visit from an attorney, or a juror would receive a threatening letter. Thousands of such scenarios have popped up from the folds of his mind, begging for answers. Answers his customers paid well to keep to themselves.
These were the desperate ones, those which have tried every people finder on the net. They have hired private dicks who specialize in the art. And they have all come up empty handed. On one of those sites, they found an innocuous banner, bragging about 100% find rates. Eventually they got desperate enough to believe the promises. Where Nathan succeeded and all others failed was the legality imposed upon other methods. Nathan had no scruples, no conscious, only greed and curiosity. The money he blew on hookers, drugs, and tuition. Everything in his former life had been upgraded to a newer, faster, shinier version. The only constants were his apartment and his computer.
His curiosity, there was no outlet for. In his mind he had created a fiction so obtuse, so far removed from anything plausible, that he starved for a glimpse of it. He had concocted numerous fictions regarding the information he sold. Contracts for hits, people running all their lives and finally caught, by him. And most of them centered on one email account, one customer that must have misplaced a bus full of friends, a client that called at least once a week, and always paid extra.
His last routine for the client had taken over a week to complete. Almost every search routine was called upon, it was a face analyzer he had stolen from an FBI mainframe which had succeeded, he could tell because it was running last. It would search databases of pictures taken for various ID’s, looking for a match. And since the routines were called upon in a hierarchical order, he knew that whoever had been found was trying very hard not to. For someone to make it past the DMV scan was rare indeed. After the face matching followed an obituary scan from every newspaper processed in the last three days. In the event that someone was dead before that, the early hospital routines would have caught them.
And since that match, Nathan had not heard from his most regular client. It had been two weeks.
Nathan’s fingers danced over the ash stained keys, his cigarette bobbing as he glanced from them to the screen. Closing the data haven accounts and setting up new ones was the last step to automate, after that, he really would be superfluous to the entire operation. Except, someone had to spend the earnings.
The next few hours were spent sifting through the net, looking for new hacking tools, downloading some pornography, and basically just wasting time until drowsiness forced him to bed, and morning classes urged him out. Tomorrow was Thursday. Not so hard to stir since he sat diagonally back and across from this stunning blond in English class. Volumes of dirty and evil thoughts were amassed as he would stare at her perfect back, usually exposed by a stringy top of some sort. He usually was thinking of her right at the time of ejaculation, ignoring whatever image was being downloaded as he cupped the towel beneath his crotch. Just thinking of her back, and trying not to spill too much on the carpet.
Nathan’s pride told him he could have anyone he wanted, if he only had the time. In truth, his personality was grating. He was cocky beyond his 19 years, maybe to keep pace with his intellect. And that was the barrier that no one would approach. Within the first week of class, Nathan would have made enough haughty and smart-assed comments to keep everyone at bay. His rejection of authority was not the usual teenage rebeldom, it was cold hubris and contempt for those beneath him.
Which was why he found himself here every night. Smoke falling out of his slack jaw, obscuring his window into the Internet. Amassing a fortune, and running out of things to spend it on. He pretended he was happy, but even his imagination had it’s limits. All he ever wanted was for something exciting to happen to him. A word from one of his clients confessing their intent. Little did he know that tonight would be one for answers.
The last person he ever talked to was a random chat partner he found through MSN. She had really liked his dark and sinister profile with it’s Type-O Negative lyrics in big bold black letters. For once he was truly interested, fascinated by this young girl from Texas, as she told him how she didn’t fit in. Her wit was sharp, and they spent hours typing response after response. During such sessions, which are rarely more than a reason to cyber and masturbate, time sort of slips away. The text piles up, though nothing is really said, and the minutes dissolve into hours, accumulating in a wasted mess. Eventually, the world outside conformed to Nathan’s room, being swallowed up by the blackness that is usually his alone. And while he was in the middle of confessing secrets to this new on-line acquaintance, a most unusual thing happened.
Nathan had a visitor.
There was no knock, no sound of the lock succumbing to force, the only noise may have come from the explosion of light which rushed in from the hallway, attempting to fill the void. Too startled to even act like it, Nathan slowly swiveled in his chair, it’s squeaking protests scaring off the silence. Through the door strolled a man with no substance, the shadows which remained seemed to cling to him for support. He stepped over the crumpled book bag, and wafted towards Nathan with a presence of familiarity, like he had known him for years. That’s when he knew that his excitement had come. Somehow, a client had found him, and had broken the seal of anonymity. Tonight the answers to his imaginary queries would finally end. The questions welled up, rising in him as he in turn rose from his chair, his last cigarette held loosely between two fingers. An awkward pause followed, the dark man’s eyes barely visible below the brim of his hat, Nathan watched as they followed his cigarette in it’s flight to his yellowed teeth. And in the ashes’ glowing ember, flaring up as he inhaled his last, Nathan saw the face of his regular client for the first time. His last thought was a sudden realization. No wonder that last search routine took so long.
As with each find, a painful stab of curiosity followed. Who was looking for whom today? The modified PGP encryption he supplied was not able to be cracked. That was the lure for his clients, complete anonymity. The entire process was automated now, it all took place on an on-line data warehouse, where temporary storage was free. The various routines scattered about the net in fake personal websites, all coded in white text on a white background, blazingly obvious to anyone that highlighted the screen. But no one would, he made sure the site was too dull for that. And even if they were uncovered, one would have to acquire dozens of routines to discern their intent. Maybe the DMV crack would be obvious to an expert hacker, but he doubted it.
In a separate window, Nathan drew up his account to verify the transactions. The password to whichever data haven he chose for the results dump was the account verification number. No money, no name. All three clients had already claimed their prize. Maybe a deadbeat dad was going to get a visit from an attorney, or a juror would receive a threatening letter. Thousands of such scenarios have popped up from the folds of his mind, begging for answers. Answers his customers paid well to keep to themselves.
These were the desperate ones, those which have tried every people finder on the net. They have hired private dicks who specialize in the art. And they have all come up empty handed. On one of those sites, they found an innocuous banner, bragging about 100% find rates. Eventually they got desperate enough to believe the promises. Where Nathan succeeded and all others failed was the legality imposed upon other methods. Nathan had no scruples, no conscious, only greed and curiosity. The money he blew on hookers, drugs, and tuition. Everything in his former life had been upgraded to a newer, faster, shinier version. The only constants were his apartment and his computer.
His curiosity, there was no outlet for. In his mind he had created a fiction so obtuse, so far removed from anything plausible, that he starved for a glimpse of it. He had concocted numerous fictions regarding the information he sold. Contracts for hits, people running all their lives and finally caught, by him. And most of them centered on one email account, one customer that must have misplaced a bus full of friends, a client that called at least once a week, and always paid extra.
His last routine for the client had taken over a week to complete. Almost every search routine was called upon, it was a face analyzer he had stolen from an FBI mainframe which had succeeded, he could tell because it was running last. It would search databases of pictures taken for various ID’s, looking for a match. And since the routines were called upon in a hierarchical order, he knew that whoever had been found was trying very hard not to. For someone to make it past the DMV scan was rare indeed. After the face matching followed an obituary scan from every newspaper processed in the last three days. In the event that someone was dead before that, the early hospital routines would have caught them.
And since that match, Nathan had not heard from his most regular client. It had been two weeks.
Nathan’s fingers danced over the ash stained keys, his cigarette bobbing as he glanced from them to the screen. Closing the data haven accounts and setting up new ones was the last step to automate, after that, he really would be superfluous to the entire operation. Except, someone had to spend the earnings.
The next few hours were spent sifting through the net, looking for new hacking tools, downloading some pornography, and basically just wasting time until drowsiness forced him to bed, and morning classes urged him out. Tomorrow was Thursday. Not so hard to stir since he sat diagonally back and across from this stunning blond in English class. Volumes of dirty and evil thoughts were amassed as he would stare at her perfect back, usually exposed by a stringy top of some sort. He usually was thinking of her right at the time of ejaculation, ignoring whatever image was being downloaded as he cupped the towel beneath his crotch. Just thinking of her back, and trying not to spill too much on the carpet.
Nathan’s pride told him he could have anyone he wanted, if he only had the time. In truth, his personality was grating. He was cocky beyond his 19 years, maybe to keep pace with his intellect. And that was the barrier that no one would approach. Within the first week of class, Nathan would have made enough haughty and smart-assed comments to keep everyone at bay. His rejection of authority was not the usual teenage rebeldom, it was cold hubris and contempt for those beneath him.
Which was why he found himself here every night. Smoke falling out of his slack jaw, obscuring his window into the Internet. Amassing a fortune, and running out of things to spend it on. He pretended he was happy, but even his imagination had it’s limits. All he ever wanted was for something exciting to happen to him. A word from one of his clients confessing their intent. Little did he know that tonight would be one for answers.
The last person he ever talked to was a random chat partner he found through MSN. She had really liked his dark and sinister profile with it’s Type-O Negative lyrics in big bold black letters. For once he was truly interested, fascinated by this young girl from Texas, as she told him how she didn’t fit in. Her wit was sharp, and they spent hours typing response after response. During such sessions, which are rarely more than a reason to cyber and masturbate, time sort of slips away. The text piles up, though nothing is really said, and the minutes dissolve into hours, accumulating in a wasted mess. Eventually, the world outside conformed to Nathan’s room, being swallowed up by the blackness that is usually his alone. And while he was in the middle of confessing secrets to this new on-line acquaintance, a most unusual thing happened.
Nathan had a visitor.
There was no knock, no sound of the lock succumbing to force, the only noise may have come from the explosion of light which rushed in from the hallway, attempting to fill the void. Too startled to even act like it, Nathan slowly swiveled in his chair, it’s squeaking protests scaring off the silence. Through the door strolled a man with no substance, the shadows which remained seemed to cling to him for support. He stepped over the crumpled book bag, and wafted towards Nathan with a presence of familiarity, like he had known him for years. That’s when he knew that his excitement had come. Somehow, a client had found him, and had broken the seal of anonymity. Tonight the answers to his imaginary queries would finally end. The questions welled up, rising in him as he in turn rose from his chair, his last cigarette held loosely between two fingers. An awkward pause followed, the dark man’s eyes barely visible below the brim of his hat, Nathan watched as they followed his cigarette in it’s flight to his yellowed teeth. And in the ashes’ glowing ember, flaring up as he inhaled his last, Nathan saw the face of his regular client for the first time. His last thought was a sudden realization. No wonder that last search routine took so long.