SHORT STORY: END USER (PART 2)
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He busied himself with trivial work until all but the cleaning staff had gone home.  Once he was sure of not being disturbed, he set about his task.  In the night time darkness of his basement office, Anders began to work.  Old instincts and memories flared in his brain as, by the cold blue light of his terminals monitor, he set about forcing his way into the company mail server.


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He was at once aware of the possible consequence of what he was doing and also completely convinced that it was the only thing he could do.  He was in the process of crossing a line.  One that would be almost impossible to cross back over once the thing was done.  He could lose his job and perhaps even face criminal charges but old, all but forgotten instincts drove him on.  He needed to know.


He found his way to the management level mail accounts and, giving himself a set of full system control credentials, easily slipped inside. What he found there not only confirmed his worst suspicions but compounded them.  


The situation had caught the attention of the senate, who had decided, due to the amount of revenue being lost per day that the boards remained offline, to handle the situation under vague anti terrorism laws.



Server (3:41) : Welcome to the room!

Wired_86: Besides, it’s too big now for them to try and sweep it under the rug.

Code_Girl: You’re right, but I don’t think they’re going to back down or let it lie.

ThatOneTechGuy:  If any of you know the power users who started the lockout, tell them to watch themselves.  There’s going to be a police raid.  I don’t know when, but it’s definitely happening.”Wired_86:  Who are you?  A lurker?”

Code_Girl: Yeah, you’re new.  No reason to trust you.

ThatOneTechGuy:  Just trying to help.

Server (3:45) : You have left the room.



Anders was passing by a snack food stand, early on Monday morning when a news broadcast on the stands wall mounted monitor caught his attention.  The owner of the shack, a disgruntled looking man in an ill fitting apron, was busy refilling the small refrigerator.


“Hey, can you turn that up?” asked Anders.


“You gonna buy somethin’?” asked the vendor irritably.


Anders fumbled in his pocket for some change and bought a handful of candy bars without bothering to look at their variety or how many he had grabbed.  The vendor looked him over, a bemused smirk on his face, before turning up the volume and ringing the candy through the register.


“In an unprecedented move which is already attracting criticism, the police today mounted several dawn raids on civilian addresses.” said the newscaster.


“Several arrests were made under the terrorism act and the national security act according to a spokesperson for the department.  All of the suspects were known users of a popular message board which has been offline for nearly two weeks following…”


“Four fifty.” said the vendor.  


As he arrived at work, Anders was greeted in the lobby by two uniformed officers and a man in a threadbare suit.  His mind began to race.  He knew, of course, that something had gone wrong.  He considered running but, realising he had nowhere to go, abandoned the idea.


“You are Anders Morgan, correct?” asked the man in the cheap suit.


“Yes.” replied Anders.  “What’s this-”


“We have access logs and other corroborating evidence which leads us to believe you gained illegal access to private mail accounts and that this comment was made by you.” said the detective, cutting him off and handing him a sheet of paper.  


It was a chat transcript.  His warning to the power users was there, plain to see.  They had found him out, or perhaps been watching in the first place.  He knew this might happen, and he knew now that his warning had not been in time.


“Anders Morgan, you are under arrest on suspicion of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice.” said the detective.


Several floors up, the company’s top managers watched from a window as Anders was put into a police car.  The door opened and one more of their number entered the room.  He too observed through the window until the car was out of sight.


“Is everything handled?” asked one of the rooms occupants.


“Yes, sir.” answered the newest arrival.  “Morgan was the last one.”


“The boards?”


“In the hands of newly appointed power users and back online, sir.”


“We’re going to need a new tech.” said another of the suits.  “And make sure they vet the applicants this time.”



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BY DAVID WILLIAMS