The First JobMature

I need to get myself back into the creative process... which will include writing. You know... as a thing, maybe?

So, this is just me doing some random Cyberpunk type dystopia teenage wank thing, with me making certain to regularly update it with a new episode

Sarah Drop Table*;-- Lidsner was not one to take stuff lightly. That was, if she could actually take a job seriously. Here she was, her deck full out, starring into a laser display only for her eyes hitting all kinds of buttons and moving various analog sticks. The computer device was pot shaped, and to be help while sitting up. That hurt the arms on really long dives, so Sarah had developed a bit of slouch.

No, that wasn't true--it was during elementary when she developed the slouch. Either she hunched over and was a slacker with bad posture... or just asking for attention. Damned her developing bigger than other girls. Her bra was digging into her. This one had not decided to stab her in the heart. You know--as that was what had her stopping having somebody or something held close to her chest... but it wasn't a proper size. People would scold her about finding on a proper size--but you know what? It is easier to find pants that fit her butt than a proper sized bra.

They have robots that replaced the barristas... but they haven't gotten robots to make bras decently.

Not that she could have gotten a proper job. She started her journey into crime when she was yelling at another kid over a game of kick ball a little too hard. The kid ran to the security guard--and well, Sarah wasn't necessary all humble and apologetic to the security guard. So he used his taser on her. She was then brought to court for disturbing the peace, resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer. As apparently when hit with the taser it hit her on her lower leg and threw her legs out from under her and her head was smashed into the security guard's shin. Or as he described it, "her angry uncouthe temper was not able to be pacified--that I feared for my life, and immediately went for my taser for my safety. The taser did nothing to stop her attempt to head butt me in the genitals. Naturally my lightning quick reflexes had me dodging out of the way... and was able to restrain her."

Getting hit with a taser is like getting pushed really hard by a wall. People act like it shakes them on television... people who get tasered react like they got hit with a REALLY good punch. The reason it can be fatal--is well, sometimes a well place REALLY good punch can be fatal.

She was passed out with her face in the dirt. The little runt Jerry was traumatised by it--and as much as he had been fed mud pies by her holding him down while him telling her how much he loves them... it did not bring any of the justice he thought it would.

That was Jerry with her back. He ended up getting kicked out of school a year after her. You see, some rough kids were punching him in the face and giving him bruises--and he got charged with assault. So he ended up going to the local High Hopes Holmes Ltd juvenile correctional faculty. Where he kind of started bench pressing and getting built up.

It wasn't for revenge--after seeing what happened to Sarah, he didn't have any desire for revenge. He was more wanting to make certain what happened to him could be prevented from occurring to other people. Outside we had Frank... another part of our little circle of delinquints. The first to get into High Hopes Holmes Ltd because his bike chipped some paint on the school bike rack...  Which apparently counts as vandalism.

He was maintaining our get away vehicle. Apparently getting really good with mechanics while in High Hopes Holmes Ltd.

The thing was... she was kind of a bit limited in my choices. She gets to be a prude or a slut. Either something involving a lot of sex being done by her... or something that means no sex ever. Ain't life just a grand thing. Not that she ever really followed the rules. Naw--the rules only existed to get you into trouble. That is all they exist for--to fuck people's lives up.

She is in this shed, breaking into this companies router system. Well, military contracted router system. Our delinquents' client wants them to grab any military problems they might see whizzing around in here--for him to case test them and then pass his results onto others.

Oh right--none of our delinquents finished school. Anything they knew was either via self teaching or the Responsibility Ethnics Correction Training utilitary mandatory programs at H.H.Holmes Ltd. Essentially they were slave labour--but hey they will little problem kids. It is okay to make little problem kids do slave labour to make up for being tazered or getting punched in the face.

Only Sarah was the only one allowed to pick on Jerry. Something he still allows: Sarah to pick on him. He feels less of a freak when she does that. Like something is better when somebody can defeat him and beat him up. Jerry gets a little weird if he doesn't lose a fight. So she will give him a noogie--or pour ice on him--or something. Just to keep him in check. He could never hurt Sarah. He mentions something about failing Sarah on the day of the tasing as kind of a constant lament.

Sarah would be worried he was one of those so called nice guys--but he has a boyfriend. So yeah... if he is bisexual--well, it would be disrespectful to his boyfriend. Jerry kind of latched onto the whole self discipline thing really hard.

Typically only 20% of children graduate. Seriously, that gets annoying--as the kids who graduate know fuck all about how the world works. They are the ones who can get into the military... and really, what is up with the code they are putting up here? Most of this was just shit cargo cult... for network protocol stuff.

Seriously--the network protocol stuff they've thrown in here is just a bit ridiculous. They had their stuff shared via Gopher--but what do I see? A whole bunch of PDFs that required being transfered over HTTP. Not even SHTTP--but clear channel HTTP. Who the fuck still uses clear channel HTTP these days?

This wifi shed was a Faraday Cage--with a router that had a signal coming in from one end in Cat5 cable... and then had the cable go out the other end. They used these to transfer data between different faculties on properties that were close. Which meant we were technically trespassing on Military Contractor Corporation Territory.

It is alright--our delinquents are wearing maintainence crew uniforms. The turn over rate on maintainence crews as high enough that the local rent-a-cops that patrol the area looking to show people their authoritah didn't immediately fine you seven hundred dollars for showing up on the property. This time they didn't even want to ask the names of our delinquents... as a small eight year old boy had tossed a ball over the fence by accident, and made the mistake of trying to get it back.

Oh right... any of the people who graduate go on power trips to a ridiculously high level. Usually they are the biggest ones to point out when a crime is happening. Even if they just think something will happen, they phone the police. The police--which is a third party contracted organisation--essentially privatised cops--then show up really easily. As they get paid by the arrest and by the answered calls. Well, no, they get paid by the hour... the criminals joked about them getting a commission when they didn't feel bothered by notion of getting hit with a baton as anything worse to the situation.

It is more who gets fired and who gets promoted is all about who has the best numbers. So the goal is to get the highest amount of numbers--as the whole thing is done on the bell curve. With every cop getting a grade of 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 in a month. The Lucky Sevens were advertised on the sides of the cars--in amongst ads for Natural Male Enhancement, Yogurt making weird health claims and various drugs being advertised.

Anybody who got 0, 1 or 2 were fired... and typically became security guards until they got all kinds of recommendations to attempt at being a cop. Usually taking seven to ten years to get back to being a cop (minimum). The number being lower the older the cop happens to be. As the older the cop is, the more seniority they have. Even if they were still new to the force. You had maybe one or two mulligans to not having your numbers high enough.

So the cops WILL make an arrest WHEN they show up--and promptly. There is a meter on their cars for how long it took them to make the call. Especially since you had to do better than being a 3. Threes were the ones taunted with being the next on the fired list. Which made those one the MOST dangerous to show up. Also saying, going to "Take a Number Three" around a cop is worse than calling him a piece of shit.

The danger of the crime is based upon how many rubber bullets and taser shots they used to subdue the criminal. So they will use as many as possible to take one down. Injuries increase the danger of the crime level--but make it harder for the cop to respond to future crimes. So they avoided injury while using as many rubber bullets and taser hits as possible.

You did not want to be there when the cops showed up. Typically the cops had been known to arrest people for making frivolous arrest reports. So it was hard to get away from the person who called the cops, and they'd do what they can to detain you. Which mostly meant a higher danger level as they could use more rubber bullets and taser hits on you when you are caged in and trapped. They might let you run for a bit first... you know, if they don't think they can get enough rubber bullet rounds in on the matter.

The thing is... most of the people who didn't graduate--except for maybe one or two people who didn't make it due to cancer (often then, they'd not let that get in the way of their grades--as best they could)--were criminals. Via some terrible crime... such as bike rack lock up related graffiti Frank pulled off. So they were kind of scared at how many latent criminals they were surrounded by... spending most of their time to not look too deviant or different from the others.

Which meant their work really was sub par. As well, if they did do a really good job at it--it would attract attention. Attention that would result in them being one of the dangerous roving bands of criminals... who are hungry for torture, rape, human flesh, human skin suits--and in that order if you were lucky.

Our delinquents never really had the stomach for torture, rape or human skin suits. Sometimes Sarah has been hungry enough she DID consider the long pig. Though, at the same time--that is ridiculous. It is just scared stuff the Graduates told each other to scare themselves into not being the next criminal. As well--they are too pretty... the criminal element would take the skin off first to wear about... and then torture rape their prudy mouths. Or so I have just informed you.

So far it was mostly bullshit. The thing was--they had the program that made use of the protocol item often transfered with the protocol item. Like they read the program into ram which used the protocol--sent the program's ram entry over the network using the protocol--as a regular thing. It was apparently part of their remote desktop management service... or whatever market term they were calling "the Cloud" these days.

The cloud is also known as a mainframe or time share... and yeah... Sarah has no idea how they did this in the 1970s. Sarah didn't think it was quite like this. So Sarah did get a few bits of software.

However, it was mostly an HTTP web browser being transfered back and forth on top of various implementations of their Gopher protocol here. If anything it was the Gopher implementation that did this. As they held their various system software in the Gopher archive... to be executed from the Gopher archive. As the local dummy terminals only had a couple hundred terrabytes of Hard Drive space. Which was the minimum requirement for the operating system their network used.

Sarah's little laser pot here didn't have anywhere near the same hardware... but it wasn't programmed by complete idiots. Idiots doing what they could to not put themselves as criminal compared to the others.

The worse part of this whole thing was... the biggest part of the issue is the lack of jobs for people that existed. We had robots doing anything and everything these days. Except doing computer coding (not that this was not being researched), visual recognition requirements (unless it was faces for advertisement) and certain creativity jobs.

And well... it cost money to keep a living. As there ain't no free lunch. If you don't earn you pay--you don't eat.

Except work literally does not exist outside of a few jobs that are barely enough for the 20% Graduate Class.

Yeah... our delinquents did jobs better done by robots while in old H.H.Holmes Ltd. This is why it took so long to pay off their sentences. As we cannot charge as much--unless we matched the craftsmanship of the robots. Now can we?

Perhaps this is how this system eventually carved itself out for this to happen? As nobody here wants to risk any of their security. As taking a risk was a move that would destroy their current position in the world.

Sarah saw something big coming in over the system. This was some kind of military program designed to take out systems watching their networks. Uh... provided these systems had the same level of specs as their networks when loading the code into their memory. Seriously... the amount of memory allocation calls this piece of software makes... and it is as routines called.

Yeah... Sarah made a little program to check what linked library calls were made in the program--and if any of them allocated more memory as part of their running. It also quickly counted the logic loops--or rather just branches made in the code. The more software branches the more CPU the code used... well... maybe. Sometimes it was just a bunch of needless branches for a piece of software that could be done exactly the same without them.

The rating of the algorthms in this piece of software were uh... well, Bogo Sort was looking like an addition that wouldn't make any kind of noticeable increase in cycles used. Also--by a quick look at calls that allocated memory... it seemed highly likely to be more leaky than anything else. Also... it seemed than any input data wasn't even bothered to be stearolised upon being taken in and used.

These were just initial readings--and could be completely out of whack. Just a spherical cow to how bad the code seemed to look. It was entirely possible to throw off these tools... but it looked like it was to be a back door installed on any system attacking theirs.

Sarah would have to be very careful how I store this code. It is going directly into the encrypted archive. Where in order to be run, it would need to be unencrypted first. Just manually double checking the file system for anything weird to look at.

As well... the tool to see what is required--can be fooled. While it isn't likely somebody would be able to pull that off. Happy accidents do tend to happen. Oh hey... here we go--plenty of cyber combat tools. Here are some forensics tools coming down the pipe--just for Sarah to watch them coming through over all this clear text. Even then--Sarah wasn't even certain it was the RAM on the dumb terminal--but RAM on the server system that it was getting loaded into over this Gopher network. Well... from HTTP over the Gopher network... or... whatever.

Seriously... the amount of noise over this network was ridiculous. Hardware usage was constantly being reported. Amount of files open, amount of network sockets running--amount of widgets being drawn. Oh... the widgets reporting wasn't even for the dumb terminal--but for the OS manufacturers home office.

Jerry starts shaking Sarah's shoulder. "Frank is worried about something."

Sarah nearly had the last bit of malware downloaded. Frank opens the door, "we need to get out of here right now!"

Sarah shakes the laser pot off her face... and runs out of the shed disorientated. Frank pulls both Jerry and Sarah to the transport, "apparently there was some attack on their network by a couple of their maintanence workers--well not really."

Frank takes the controls of the dune buggy the three were piled upon. "One of the local security guards struck up a conversation. The reason they didn't fine us--was--it would get a demerit later for some random event. Apparently they've been framing maintanence workers as cyber criminals for some time."

Sarah shakes her face and asks a righteous "what the fuck do you mean?"

Frank continues, "well--usually it is maintainence workers just working on the shed with their computer diagnostic equipment. However the maintainence workers started noticing many of them were getting canned for cyber terrorism at a regular rate. So when maintainence workers were regularly scheduling that day off..."

Frank does a few sharp turns to change the course of his direction--keeping track of the tracking chips in the local Corporate Military Units coming there way. Huffing and puffing. Jerry is pretty perturbed at the double crossing here.

Frank, "the local security units were aware they'd started to contract out actual people to get stuff from here. This is to run a huge controversy about constant cyber attacks on their faculties."

Jerry shouts out in Frank's ear a loud, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"

Sarah was still focusing her eyes--taking in Jerry and Frank's features. Jerry was a somewhat shorter man--but rippling with muscles. Frank was more tall and lean... having grown like a weed. Hair grown out and in a ponytail.  Jerry kept his head shaved--or at least close to the skull in length. Frank tended to wear leather jackets with white shirts underneath and denim pants with riding boots. Jerry wore pockets. Maybe there was some clothing under all those pockets. Sarah was never really that inclined to bother confirming. Jerry also wore fingerless gloves. Jerry had a bit of a hoarding issue--despite being homeless.

Sarah's red hair in twin tails kept flipping into her face. She felt the bra wire stabbing her in the heart a little bit. So... betrayal.

Frank shouted loudly, "apparently, they are maintaining a brand image of constantly being attacked by cyber terrorists."

Sarah replied confused, "but there was nothing in the system worth getting--except a few defense programs."

Frank chortles a little bit, "Well... we all know it is all about the look these companies have... not backing it up."

Jerry was gripping at some garbage nonsense he had in one of his pockets, "they'd betray their employees for this corporate image?"

Frank calms down, "we are nearly out... but I dunno--this..."

Frank slams on the breaks and swings around hard away from the direction he was heading, "yeah... not falling for that... guys we are in for a bit of a fun ride."

Sarah yells out, "what happened?"

Frank shouts, "Buffalo Jump..."

Jerry shouts out indignantly, "THOSE BASTARDS!"

Sarah, "let's find a way out of this without getting our heads smashed."

The End

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