not like father, not like son
01.01.00
The brand new age that would shame the technology of yesteryear had finally arrived; global celebrations occurring ever since the night before were slowing down now as Hawaii would be the last as usual. However, San Francisco was ending their hooplas, that is, aside from the lofty apartment of college student, the computer nerd, Ed Dillinger...Junior.
He was a freshman in college, miserable as hell but found content in the surfing pages of the Internet & his desk job at ENCOM. Oh sure, everyone sneered, hissed & even jeered when they saw him, but Eds took it anymore with a grain of salt. Christmas had not been spent with his parents as he told them a little lie that he was getting ready for next semester.
What he *was* doing was navigating through a simple operating program that the CEO of ENCOM had been willing to trust him with as long as (in his words) "you won't go down any deep, dark tunnels that you can't get back out of." Eddie wasn't too sure what it meant but didn't genuinely didn't care as his eyes were fixated upon the computer screen.
The system demo looked dated & in desperate need of updating, unless this was a test to show his mettle to Mr. Alan Bradley. "All right, you bloody git, let's have a go," he stated, his accent distinctly Brits like his father. Procuring a task directory, he began punching in random codes, hoping something, one way or another, would appear.
. . . GREETINGS, USER! NAME?
The ...hell? Eddie stared a moment until the message respun itself out. His fingers typed in the dreaded nickname 'DILLY' & pressed enter. Blue screens scrolled thru piles of information until landing at a main screen.
WELCOME, DILLY, TO THE GRID.
Oh, God. . . what had he done now, he thought, grabbing a cookie from the tin his parents had sent, gulping down tea. What indeed.
[make him welcome, won't you? MCP, don't attack him...not yet!]
The brand new age that would shame the technology of yesteryear had finally arrived; global celebrations occurring ever since the night before were slowing down now as Hawaii would be the last as usual. However, San Francisco was ending their hooplas, that is, aside from the lofty apartment of college student, the computer nerd, Ed Dillinger...Junior.
He was a freshman in college, miserable as hell but found content in the surfing pages of the Internet & his desk job at ENCOM. Oh sure, everyone sneered, hissed & even jeered when they saw him, but Eds took it anymore with a grain of salt. Christmas had not been spent with his parents as he told them a little lie that he was getting ready for next semester.
What he *was* doing was navigating through a simple operating program that the CEO of ENCOM had been willing to trust him with as long as (in his words) "you won't go down any deep, dark tunnels that you can't get back out of." Eddie wasn't too sure what it meant but didn't genuinely didn't care as his eyes were fixated upon the computer screen.
The system demo looked dated & in desperate need of updating, unless this was a test to show his mettle to Mr. Alan Bradley. "All right, you bloody git, let's have a go," he stated, his accent distinctly Brits like his father. Procuring a task directory, he began punching in random codes, hoping something, one way or another, would appear.
. . . GREETINGS, USER! NAME?
The ...hell? Eddie stared a moment until the message respun itself out. His fingers typed in the dreaded nickname 'DILLY' & pressed enter. Blue screens scrolled thru piles of information until landing at a main screen.
WELCOME, DILLY, TO THE GRID.
Oh, God. . . what had he done now, he thought, grabbing a cookie from the tin his parents had sent, gulping down tea. What indeed.
[make him welcome, won't you? MCP, don't attack him...not yet!]