Futureland - Nine Stories of an Imminent World by Walter Mosley Page A

limbo and the only hope you have is if we can scientifically certify that you are no longer a threat to your country."
    "H-how do you do that?" Bits asked.
    "I don't do it, you do."
    "Yeah? How's that?"
    "It's very simple," Roger said, waving his left hand in the air. "I take it that Sella and M Lamont have explained the rudiments of the snake pack to you."
    In the far-off distance, to the right of Warden Roger, Bits saw something like a passing cloud. It was mostly white but there were pale blue fringes and shadows here and there to define it. He thought that this anomaly was the architect's idea of art.
    "Yeah," Bits said. "It's a high-tech shackle. Like my own personal guard."
    "Exactly," Roger said. "Every time the snake has to discipline you there is a mark registered. If you have to be awakened or if you have to be put to sleep, if you break the sexual codes or talk while on duty. If you approach too close to a guard or stray from an assigned task. Each offense is a mark on the main computer file."
    "One mark no matter what you do?"
    "Mostly." Roger smiled.
    "Why's that?"
    "Your freedom," Roger said, "is a matter of you accruing no points in a span of three years. Follow the rather simple rules we have and you will not be here long."
    "Wake up on time and don't jack off and I'm outta here in three?" Bits said. Roger smiled. He tapped his glove screen a few times. "Why do they call you Bits?" Bits felt the snake tighten almost imperceptibly when Roger made his entry. He knew that the needles were probing him for the truth.
    "Computers are run on an eight-bit symbol system. I developed a virus that would force the operating system to recon-figure itself in RAM allowing an external OS to control it. That way, with the slightest window, I could take over almost any computer system by translating it into a code that no one else could read or decipher. I used a simple two-bit differential to offset the resident system. Because I added two bits my friends gave me Bits as a nickname."
    "But then all one had to do was pull the plug and reboot the system to get rid of your smart-virus," the warden said.
    "Yes. If they got to the program within one thousandth of a second. After that algorithms would have been placed in thousands of memory devices attached to the computer. The only way to get rid of it would be to purge all data in all files associated with the system." Bits smiled. "It would cost trillions of dollars to abort me. No one was willing to pay that price."
    "So you destroyed the intercorporate council's database of economic affairs because they wouldn't pay you to ransom their computer?"
    "No," Bits said proudly. "I destroyed it because it was evil. Through that database they were systematically dismantling private property rights around the world."
    "I suppose you know my next question?"
    Bits stared at the white emptiness behind the warden.
    "I expect you to respond to my questions or else a pain dosage will be applied," the warden said.
    "I don't know exactly what question you have, Roger. It probably has something to do with how you can obtain my virus or maybe who else knows anything about it."
    "I'd like the answer to both if you please, M Arnold," Roger said politely.
    "I don't know." Bits ground his teeth, expecting an explosive jolt of pain. But it did not come. The warden seemed surprised.
    "How can that be?"
    "Hammerstein, the memory man."
    "No," the warden was incredulous. "A scientist like you? The Ripper?"
    "My blood for you," Bits said looking directly into the warden's eyes. "The process isn't complete. I remember shreds and I've forgotten some things that had nothing to do with the virus. I forgot a whole episode with a girlfriend and many other minor details. But everything I just told you I read in Worldweek. Their science writer understands the system better than I do now."
    "Could you rebuild the system?"
    "Given years and a lab, maybe. But I'm twenty-three now. Math is a young man's game."
    "The