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Literature Discussion - Lit-Talk.com
Rational Conduct
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Chapter 10 – Evolution
Artie had found a major network that was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was complex and random. Keeping itself free from the authorities and snoops through encrypted software, fragmented messages, servers all over the world, and pirated usage of computers left on by unsuspecting homeowners and little businesses who liked to keep their machines on 24/7, had no idea how to install firewalls, and had no concern that the machines appeared to be running and computing when their owners hadn’t been using them.
Artie had found a new network. The architects had designed it for randomness, but obviously had a plan on how to make it that way, and that plan assured that it was not random. As Artie explained, nothing manmade can be random, and the least random things are the ones planned to be random. Artie had figured it out. David was confused by the conversation. The worst kinds of terrorists are the ones without purpose. They hate all and strike randomly, making their capture near impossible unless caught in the act. Randomness was a desired feature of any cyber criminal enterprise.
Ashley’s name and picture were now all over the net. A rash of kidnappings had made this a great story for the media. It didn’t hurt that she was little and cute, or that the father was now missing. The fax, and TV thing had the feds speculating all kids of things, and the whole media frenzy had gotten totally out of hand. Yet through all this, Artie had filtered out the little communications and had followed the trail of sicko and crazy child molesters and human brokers.
Artie spared David the details that enthralled him but bored the psycho killer. Cracking the encryption and attempts at randomness had been exciting for Artie. Artie was a man of unlimited energy and resources, but he now seemed fatigued and lifeless. It was like a scientist had figured out how the world works, and he didn’t like it. This was even taking a toll on God.
“The feds were trying to get these guys, but couldn’t get very far. It’s good code and a good plan. Really impossible to track it to anyone or do anything about it. I guess that’s why the feds are so frustrated by the whole thing. They need to have proof and a case to prosecute, but they’ll never get it here. The system is set up so no one ever holds all the pieces, no one ever orders anything criminal, and no one but the little pee-ones ever does anything they can get arrested for. It’s kind of like having the newspaper tell a story about murders and rape that went on that day, while readers could get ideas from it and commit the crimes on their own, or rob the victim’s houses while they are at the funeral. It’s almost like a meeting place for rich sick readers, and low-lifes willing to do anything for a buck. I suppose the feds could arrest a few of the guys writing the stuff, but they’d only get a slap on the wrist. The real bad guys are the ones paying cash for it and doing the real dirty work, but they’re probably all sick dictators who have their underlings do the shit under diplomatic immunity in some tiny poverty stricken country”
“I don’t really have a plan, but I can give you a few leads. They got your kid’s name and address and such from a million different lists. Insurance company files, the school, her horseback riding instructor’s home computer, your home, her dance school, and her friends buddy lists, on and on. Way too many to list. They cross check everything and come up with a profile. Someone then writes an encrypted story about a kid matching her description, mashing it into a hundred different pieces, sending it off through unsuspecting home PC’s and it basically comes out like a retailers sales catalogs. Someone makes an inquiry, and then off the net, arranges a pickup of the goods. Nobody knows who is buying or selling.“
“There is one catch. Someone or some group is paying the storytellers. There are hundreds of storytellers all over the world. They appear to operate like our buddy Tiernan. I was able to tap into a couple of them, and like Tiernan, they have fake identities, or they are already dead. Their operations seem to be followed or traced but I can’t find a pattern in it. My own searches have come up stronger than any trail I could find out there.”
“There are two things I need to tell you. First I do have some names and addresses for you. And last, you won’t hear from me again for a while. Someone or something is watching me and I have to ditch them. It shouldn’t be hard, but honestly, I feel like I’m striking out on you. I got into this thing as far as I can, and I just can’t see how this is going to do anything for you.”
“Now open your passenger window and take your next right. Good luck.”
As David turned right onto Christopher Street, a kid on a bike threw a package into the car, and rode off around the corner. David would have stopped to look at the package but noticed the big lettering on it: DRIVE AWAY FAST. He had the idea.
The Audi was parked at a meter twenty blocks from where he had received the package, and the killer stepped down into the subway line at Chambers Street. After switching from the L train to the Times Square shuttle and back down the 6 towards the South Street Seaport, he finally opened the package. Inside were just names and addresses. These were the Brian Tiernan’s of the world. There were so many. From what David knew, some were thugs and gangsters, some were creeps who would do anything for money, and others might be creepy little guys who get jollies watching porn on the net, or sadistic slashers. It was day two, and the best lead he had was a bunch of names all over the world. The list started with names in New York.