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There is no Defense

A Short Story by
Craig Curtis
All rights reserved by the author.
 

     "Are you gonna do it?"  Joey asked Richard.
     "Do What," Richard replied.
     "Take the job they want you to take."
     " Probably will.  There's not much else to do in here."
     Richard Roseman was 29 years old, with brown hair and eyes.  Before becoming a guest of the New York State penal system, he had been a computer programer for a beltway bandit consulting firm in Albany.  He was of medium height and weight, a little soft around the middle.  He had the pallor of a man who spends virtually all his time indoors, as do most all prisoners in the New York State Penal system.  All in all, his appearance was unremarkable, except for one thing.  His nose was the classic Semitic nose.  Once he had overhead another inmate say, "He's Jewish.  It's as plain as the nose on his face."  Of course, in 2057 in the United States, it wasn't a very good thing to be Jewish, and Richard Roseman, despite coming from a family in Albany which included many Jews, was an entirely secular individual, an agnostic, in fact.
     It was late December and the new year was not shaping up to be an especially promising one.  The prospect of a job to occupy his time was attractive to Richard.
     His cell mate, Joey Lishko, was large, blond and muscular.  They made an odd pair, the former high school linebacker from Rochester who had made his way through the world by violence and the former computer programmer who was decidedly neither athletic nor violent.  Still, they got along well, which was fortunate for Richard, since prison could be a violent place and having a protector was an important thing.  At first, Joey has made it clear that he was to be boss in the cell, and Richard didn't really mind that.  Their relationship had changed fairly quickly to one of equals.  Richard had won Joey over by simply treating him with respect.  Richard talked to him about computers, art, security systems, music, sports, and anything else he would think of to pass the time.  Because Joey has always been regarded as a dumb jock, he was glad to have someone who didn't assume he was too stupid to understand.  They grew to be friends over the course of their first weeks together, and Joey had saved Richard from a beating on a couple of occasions.  In return, Richard had begun to educate Joey a bit about the technology that controlled the world.
     Richard was in prison for seditious libel.  In seems that his on-line joke chat room had been monitored.  One particular joke, concerning a naked Trinity Coalition Minister and three young women of the church had not been well received.  As a result, last March, the prosecutor had taken a special interest in this chat room.  A new member of the group had contributed several jokes about the President and one of his college interns.  These jokes had been deemed to be an attack on the good name of the Presidency and by October Richard had found himself in prison for five years.  The "new member" had turned out to be a Federal Bureau of Investigation agent.
     Joey was in prison for robbery.  He had mugged an old lady and taken her purse.  Unfortunately, the old lady proved to be the mother of a local Trinity Coalition minister, and the prosecutor had taken a special interest in Joey.  As a result, he had gotten 12 years, plus an additional five for using a weapon in the crime.
     One morning, not long after they had been put together in the cell, their conversation had turned to a comparison of their sentences with others in the prison.
     "I hear Greg Johanssen only got 3 years for mugging an old lady, and he was a second offender," Richard told Joey.
     "Yeah," Joey said, "But his old lady was Black, and not a church goer.  Mine was a Trinity Coalition Preacher's mother.  Maybe I ought to join the Trinity Coalition when I get out.  They sure have a lot of clout."
     "You know," Richard said, "I was raised in a Unitarian Church, even though Dad was Jewish.  I was taught that religion was a private matter, you know, between you and God.  I don't know how it happened, but for some folks, religion has become a big public thing, like a set of clothes that you put on when you want to show off.  I know for certain that you want to make sure you don't piss off the Trinity Coalition."
     "I guess you do know better now, don't you" Joey and Richard shared a laugh about that, but, the laughter didn't last long.  Five years is a long time to pay for a bit of sacrilege.
    "How did the Trinity Coalition get started anyway?" Joey asked.
    "Well, I guess it goes all the way back to the resurgence of the religious right back in the late 20th Century."  Richard began.  He had a way of adopting the pose of a teacher at times with Joey.  Joey could tell that he was about to receive one of Richard's five minute lectures, but he was curious enough, and bored enough, to listen.  "The name Trinity Coalition come from two sources.  The Trinity part of the name comes from the old concept of the Trinity -- the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost -- in Protestant religion.  The Coalition part of the name comes from the Christian Coalition, formed in the 1980s by fundamentalist Christians who were dissatisfied with American society and government and became politically active.  They wanted law to be based on Christian values, and they were willing to become activists in the political system to force change.
    "Although society was changed in some ways by the influence of the Christian Coalition, some members were not satisfied.  They thought that the Christian Coalition was too willing to compromise with the "sinners" in society.  They wanted a whole society based on Christian values.  They wanted law, medicine, art, music, television, literature, and business to serve what they thought of as God's will.  They started an organization that included not only churches, but also business, professional, and political  associations all under the same national leadership.  Members only did business with other members and only voted for members running for office.  Church ministers are social and political leaders as well as spiritual leaders.  The church teaches that every single aspect of ones life must serve God's will, and the decision as to what that means in terms of what to buy, what to watch on TV, and for whom to vote is made by the Trinity Coalition Minister in each local church.  It has proved to be a very successful idea, as you and I very well know."
    Joey was wary to more lecture, but he still wanted to know, "What about all the other churches?"
    "Oh, they're still there and some still are powerful because they have a lot of members and cooperate with the Trinity Coalition at times, but none can match the overall power of the TC."

                                                                                 * * * * *

     "What will you have to do if you take the job?" Joey asked.
     "They want me to write computer code for them,"  Richard answered.  "The guard said that I would get a PC in the cell and all the documentation I need to write the code.  I think that the code is intended to be used in the Department of Health and Human Services.  They are having trouble getting all the databases in their system to work together.  At least I will have a PC to play with a bit, although I'm sure that surveillance will be extra tight given my history.  In any case, it beats working in the laundry."
     It was about 11:30 in the morning.  A guard came through the cell block announcing that lunch was about to start.  "Come on you scumbags, shut up and let's get in line."  The guard made a conspicuous show of the little hand held box that had the switch that controlled their obedience rings.  With that little box, a guard could inflict terrible and incapacitating pain by causing the neck ring that all inmates wore to deliver a carefully directed bit of current to its wearer.  These rings were also encoded to the cells themselves so that any inmate who left his cell without having the ring shut off would writhe in agony until a guard shut off the ring.  Before the inmates could go to the common area for lunch, their rings had to be switched from automatic mode to manual, meaning that the guard himself had control through the box.
     Joey and Richard, as well as all the other inmates, stood up and put their hands on top of their head.  Each one waited for the beeping signal that signified that their rings were switched to manual control of the guard.
     One inmate got a little anxious and left his cell a moment early.  All of the inmates could hear his screams, "Turn it off!!  Turn if off!!  Oh please, boss, oh please, boss, turn it off!!"  The guard took his time.  It was good that an inmate occasionally got out of line.  This gave the guards an opportunity to show what the rings could do.
     "Who is that?" Joey whispered to Richard without moving his lips.
     "Angelo Dupree," Richard answered, using the same well practiced technique.
     "Okay, Okay, I'll shut it off ,"  The Guard grumbled.  "Now quit your hollering.  Boys, you all see now that it's best to stay in line, don't you?"
     In return, the expected chorus of "Yes, boss" was given.
     The inmates marched off in lock step, in complete silence.  Talking in line was punishable with the ring, and no one with a fresh example in their head wanted to risk that.
     Lunch was the same as it was virtually every day.  Dried beans cooked with fat pork, rice and stale bread.  It was enough for most inmates, but not for all, and some, like Angelo Dupree, suffered from hunger.  No one was fat in prison.  It was cheap for the prison to serve, and it was pretty healthy for the inmates, although new inmates took a while to get used to the diet.  It was said that you could smell a new inmate for at least two weeks because of his flatulence.
     After quickly consuming the meal, the inmates were marched back to their cells.  Meals had to be eaten quickly since there were so many people in the prison.  In fact, the main dining hall could seat 500, and there were 8 shifts for each meal.  When this prison had reached capacity, as all prisons had done so quickly in the first half of the twenty-first century, the state had simply built more cells on existing sites.  There was no need to build more exercise yards or dining areas since prisons weren't supposed to be luxury accommodations anyway.  It made the guards grumpy, and quick to use the box, but was done as the only way society could afford to imprison a total of over 20,000,000 people out of a population of 325, 000,000.

                                                                                 * * * * *

     After their lunch, Richard was summoned to the Block Warden Josephson's office to talk about the job.
     "Alright,  Rosebaum, you've been told about the job?" the Warden said very forcefully.  Block Warden Josephson was always curt and brusque with the inmates.  He also always made them stand in front of his desk with hands clasped in front, and he always had a box in full view on his desk.  Richard knew that it would not have been wise to correct the Warden on the matter of his name.
     "Yes sir, Warden."
     "And you know that you are to have a Personal Computer installed in your cell?"
     "Yes sir, Warden"
     "I hope that you realize that you are responsible for that machine.  If it disappears, you will be prosecuted for theft.  If it is broken, you will pay to replace it out of your personal funds.  If you use it for any purpose not contemplated by your job, you will be punished."  The Warden's voice lowered and the Warden glowered at Richard over his dark and heavy eyebrows as he said that last part.
     "Yes sir, Warden."
     "Very well.  A power strip will be included to protect the unit from power spikes.  That power strip will have a small transmitter in it that will allow us to shut off the machine at our discretion.  No playing games, you understand!"
     "Yes sir, Warden."
     "One last thing.  That machine will not have a direct connection to the outside world.  It will have a connection to our central server.  Any data streams between your machine and the outside world will be routed through our server.  Before transmission to the outside world, one of our operators will check for content and monitor each transmission.  You will be able to get information from the Department of Health and Human Services, and you will be able to send your competed assignments to them, but only through our central server and only with the approval of our monitor.  Any attempt to defeat these precautions will result in prosecution for theft of official information.  You do understand, don't you?"
     "Yes sir, Warden."
     Richard Roseman understood perfectly.  Some official "monitor" would be tracking his every use of the computer, but that monitor would only be so good, and he would be busy on other tasks.  In fact, if the government could hire competent people on the outside to do these jobs, they wouldn't need to use prisoner expertise.  In fact, he was sure, very sure, that the "monitor" would not be able to understand the tasks he was expected to do and certainly would not be able to fully monitor much beyond when data transmission took place and when the machine was turned on.  He was lost in thought when he realized that the Warden was speaking to him again.
     "You will be compensated at the rate of $3.00 per hour, such compensation to be placed in your account at this institution.  Is this acceptable?"
     "Yes sir, Warden."  Richard knew, of course, any funds in that account would be appropriated to cover the cost of the inmate's incarceration.
     "Any further questions then?"  The Warden asked in a tone that made it clear that there were to be none.
     "No sir, Warden.  Thank you, sir."
     The Warden placed his finger on the intercom button switch and said, "Jones, come and get Rosebaum back to his cell."

                                                                                     * * * * *

     The computer arrived the very next morning.  Its arrival was the occasion for a complete search of both the cell and its occupants.  Such procedures were not unusual, although, like most interactions between guards and prisoners, a search was fertile ground for abuse of the inmates.  The guards were not in a mood for "fun" today, and the search was completed quickly.  When the technicians were finished, a somewhat battered computer sat chained to the table in their cell.
     "So this is the key to power" said Joey with only a small note of sarcasm.  He was aware that now they were under much greater surveillance than before and that they were likely being observed even as they spoke.  Had Richard been able to do so, he could likely have taken the computer apart and found the offending devices, but the ring around his neck reminded him often that he must be careful about what he said and did.  He remembered all too well the sensation that his neck was slowly being torn from his body when he was given the obligatory demonstration of the ring's function as part of his orientation process when he came to this prison.
     "This is the primary tool one needs to exercise power," replied Richard as he began the process of exploring what the machine would and would not do.  He discovered standard word processing, spread sheet, database and compiling software.  There were no icons for games, no multi-media package and the icon for communication was different than he had seen before.  He knew that this was because of the limits on his communication with the outside virtual world.
     Richard found a readme file and opened it up.  "Let's see what we have here," he said as he scrolled down the text.  It was his first assignment.  He was charged with debugging a set of coded instructions that was designed to link two separate databases.  The most recent spate of welfare reform laws had allowed Churches who required a tithe from their members to receive that tithe via electronic transfer.  Thus, recipients of child support or other cash benefits could have their tithe taken out automatically, and thus, avoid the need for writing a check at the beginning of each month.  Richard's job was to fix problems with the routine that linked up the welfare rolls and the list of registered church members.  It was a fairly easy job that Richard could handle in a day or two.  He began to work on it immediately, preferring to play with his new toy for a while.  Joey watched and waited, occasionally asking a question or two.
     The following afternoon, the program was ready for transmission.  Richard had set up two dummy databases and tried out the program.  It seemed to work.  The problem has been in the way that the program defined the data fields.  He wasn't sure that he had set up databases that were just like the real ones, but he preferred to proceed with caution.  This meant that he would send the file, with a note that said that it might need to be refined depending on the actual way that the real databases were set up.  If he heard nothing, he would assume that he had gotten it right.  If  it didn't work, he asked for example database files to use.
     The transmission worked well enough, although it took nearly an hour to get approval to send the data.  Richard remarked to Joey, "Next time, the approval will take less time.  As they get to trust me, approval of data transfers will go faster."
     The new program did not work, and it was returned.  Richard was informed the next morning that he was to turn on his machine and prepare to receive a transmission.  When it came through, he had another readme file.  It turned out to include several database files, which collectively were quite large and detailed, with quite a bit of information about individual citizens, including place of employment, bank account numbers, marital status, income figures, number of children, and records of church attendance, among other items. One of the databases held the membership records of several large churches.  Contained within the database were account numbers for the bank accounts of these churches.  Just as he was going to exit this file to see what instructions were enclosed, a message flashed on his screen.  It said, "Test message.  Test Message.  Say nothing.  Confirm receipt by subroutine 589."  The message disappeared and the next file came up on the screen.  Joey started to say something, but Richard put his hand on Joey's mouth just in time.  Their lives had just become much more dangerous, and, more than likely, much more interesting.
     Richard put his finger to his lips in the classic sign for silence and went about his business of editing his program.  When he was finished, he looked at Joey and sighed.  He typed in, "subroutine 589."  A message came up on the screen, "Prison slave laborer, you are not alone.  Type Y if you received our message and want to know more.  Type N if you just want to be left alone."  Richard typed "Y."  The screen told him to await further information in the next job and then the last file that he was viewing returned to the screen.  Richard looked in the files for evidence of the messages or of subroutine 589.  He found nothing, and he began to think about how this could have been accomplished.  He also began to worry that he was being set up by the authorities yet again.
     Later that night Richard and Joey were able to talk in the muted tones they had learned were hardest for the guards to hear.
     "What was all that about the ‘test message'?" Joey asked.
     "I don't know," Richard responded slowly, emphasizing each word.
     "What do you think it was?"
     "There are others out there, other doing the same kind of slave labor I'm being forced to do.  I've suspected all along that the government has trouble finding certain skills among the law abiding.  There are other programmers out there, and they have figured out how to communicate via viruses."
     "Viruses?" Joey asked.
     "Yeah," Richard replied.  "These people have imbedded little bits of programming into the data streams that are activated when the file is opened.  They look like the code for the comment routines in the database programs, but they have the benefit of flashing their message and then disappearing.  The virus ‘eats' all evidence that it was there once the message has been displayed.  If anyone were to catch that fact that some unusual code was in the data streams, it would look just like a computer virus.  All that would happen is that the ‘virus' would be destroyed, and the anti-virus program would be updated.  It isn't traceable to the originator with any reliability.  My guess is that harmful viruses are purposely being created and sent out to mask the communication ‘viruses'.  I'm sure that there are plenty of people in prison who are skilled enough to outwit government programmers.  After all, when I got out of college, only the mediocre students went to work for the government."
     "You mean that you can talk with other people doing your kind of job?  And not get caught?"
     "I think so, but then I thought that the government had no interest in a few jokes, and I thought that the First Amendment still had some meaning.  I've been wrong before or I wouldn't be here."
     "What are you gonna do about it?"
     "Wait for more messages."

                                                                                     * * * * *

     New messages came with each assignment.  The limitations of the system were clear.  The code that made up the ‘virus' had to be brief to avoid detection.  Each message was brief, but taken together they sent a clear message to Richard from his unknown associates.  We have power the authorities don't know we have and we can use it to hurt them.  We want you to use your job to wreck their data systems.
     After a month or so, Richard became more familiar with the system.  He learned how to encode messages himself and began to ask questions.  He asked, "How many more of us are there?"  He got no answer.  He asked, "Where are you and who are you?"  He got no answer.  He asked, "Do you want me to take action?"  The response was, "Do what you think is best."
     During all this time, Richard was given fairly easy assignments.  Each was completed on time and each seemed to work well.  Just as January was about to become February, a guard brought a basket of fruit to the cell.  All he said was, "Good work, Rosebaum.  You people was always smart and the Warden likes your work."  Richard and Joey said nothing, but they did enjoy the fruit.
     Richard had been keeping copies of his work on floppy disks.  As he explained to his monitor, "Sometimes I can use stuff from an old job to make a new job go faster."  One night he was organizing these files into convenient subdirectories when he spotted the database files he had needed to figure out that first job.  An idea began to take shape in his head.
     He tried very hard to remember the pranks that he had played on his fellow computer geeks while in college.  He could remember well putting a piece of code into a machine that caused a pornographic video to be displayed on screen in a classroom.  That code was triggered by the first attempt to open a slide in a presentation software package.  When the command to open a slide was given, the routine caused the computer to link to a web site in Singapore and download the video.  The professor was not amused, but the students were.  What was even better was that Richard had been able to make it look as though the whole prank was done by another student.  That student had been able to avoid penalties, but just barely and only because he was bright enough to keep all logs of his activities.  Richard had never been caught.  It was just a matter of waiting for a job that would be right for hiding the virus.

                                                                                     * * * * *

     It was in early April that Richard was asked to help create a system to automatically update a set of database files.  When people got jobs and got off of welfare, their status in a number of files had to be changed.  His job was to link up these files by creating a system of logical statements that would look for inconsistencies, and then automatically change a given individual's status in a variety of agency files.  It was perfect for what he had in mind.  He did the job on the 12th, but added in a bit of code that would cause one church to apparently "raid" the membership lists of fellow churches.  The First Trinity Coalition Church of Albany would add a number of persons to its list of members.  Each person would turn out to be someone for whom electronic tithe was in place.  Each person would be a member of another church in the area.  It would appear that the code to make these transfers of membership would originate in the First Trinity Coalition Church of Albany. It only remained for someone to detect the fraud and turn in the minister.  Richard's ring seemed to tingle with potential energy as he wrote the code.  He knew that his fate was in the hands of an unknown group of incarcerated hackers and in the incompetence of the monitor on site at the prison.
     Despite the sense that something awful was going to happen, the 13th passed uneventfully as did the following week.  On the afternoon of the 21st, he was summoned to see Block Warden Josephson.  Richard was shaking as he entered the office, and his palms felt damp.  To his surprise, the warden had a smile on his face as he entered the room.
     "Well, well, Roseman, it seems you have inadvertently helped us out a great deal, although you may not know it.  It seems that your most recent job helped the police catch a thief."
     "I'm very glad to help, sir," Richard told the Warden.  Maybe his little scheme had worked after all.  He certainly was very curious about the punishment to be meted out to the offending clergyman, but knew better than to ask.  He would just have to resign himself to not knowing since inmates were denied access to television, radio, and newspapers.
     "I wanted to let you know that we are pleased with your work here and ask if there is anything we can do to make your job a bit easier," asked the Warden.
     Richard thought for a second.  He wanted to have more free time to work on the computer sabotage.  His little scheme had apparently worked and he wanted more freedom to use it again.  "Thank you for the fruit, sir.  It was much appreciated.  Well, sir, I like to stay busy.  Perhaps you could allow me to teach my cell mate, Joey Lishko, how to use a computer.  It would give him a chance at a job when he gets out."
     "Lishko, Lishko," the Warden mumbled as he called up Joey's records on his screen.  "Ah yes, here it is.  Convicted of armed robbery, sentenced to 17 years.  I will have to think about this.  Check your screen tomorrow for my answer.  I understand that you have another job coming in from Health and Human Services and I will append my message to that."
 
                                                                                     * * * * *

     Richard had a lot to think about as he was returned to his cell.  When he got there, he told Joey that he would find out tomorrow whether they could begin computer lessons.  Of course, he had already taught Joey a great deal, but having official sanction for doing so would free him up from scrutiny from the monitor since he could always say that he was preparing a lesson for Joey if he was asked what he was doing on the machine while he was preparing his next attack.
     The next day, Richard checked the machine for the job he was expecting.  As he anticipated, he was given clearance to begin official lessons with Joey.  The new job was different that the last one in that he was charged with writing program code that would link databases containing information about the salary of workers to databases in the juvenile support system.  Automatic deductions for child support from the salaries of divorced workers were commonplace, but it was hard to track workers as they changed jobs without regular communication between the databases.  Richard's next victim was to be an administrator in the Albany County Public Aid Office.  He was going to have the county appear to pay the tithe of one Harold Young, Associate Director of Public Aid and a member of the First Trinity Coalition Church of Albany.  The instructions to do so would appear to originate in the Public Aid Office itself.

                                                                                     * * * * *

     Over the course of the next few months, Richard continued to do the jobs he was asked.  He taught Joey the rudiments of word processing, spread sheet, and database programs.  He thought up new ways to attack the system.  He occasionally was in communication with his unknown fellow prison slave laborers.  As is always true in prison, life droned on with little variation from day to day.  Richard grew bored with the tasks he was asked to do, grew bored with teaching Joey how to use a computer, grew bored with attacking the membership of the First Trinity Coalition Church of Albany.  He had been in prison for 18 months now, and the prospect of 42 more months hung heavy in his mind.
     On morning in December, Richard turned on the computer to get a new assignment.  As he opened the file containing his instructions, a message flashed across the screen: "Whatever you are doing, stop it!  Every Jewish accountant in the city of Albany has been put in jail."
     Richard felt sick to his stomach as the implications of this message sunk in.  He should have known that a scapegoat would be found.  He should have known that entrenched powers would not be vulnerable to subtle attack.  Now, even as he spoke, dozens of men were suffering because of his actions.  Dozens of families were reduced to destitution.  Dozens of children would likely be hungry tonight.  And, the Trinity Coalition would be stronger than ever because yet one more profession would be dominated by members of the Church.
     That afternoon, Richard asked to see the Warden.
     When he was taken to see Warden Josephson, Richard made one simple request.  "I would like to be reassigned to work in the laundry, sir."
     "You no longer wish to do programming work for us?" queried the Warden.
     "No sir, Warden."  Richard hung his head as he mumbled these words.
     "What defense can you offer for this sudden refusal to do the productive work for which you are so well trained?"  The Warden demanded angrily.
     "There is no defense for my actions, sir."

                                                                                    fin

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