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 Codeity  (4 ratings)by Chris Jenkins Page 2 of 2 He picked up the cable and inserted it into the NSI port behind his left ear, and let the initial vertigo of having all of his senses bypassed wash over him like a cold static wave. He never got used to that feeling, no matter how many times he logged on. This time though, something was different. He couldn't quite place it, but there was a buzzing in his ears he didn't like. He was starting where he had left off, before he had been forcibly disconnected by sources unknown. It was a private portal that listed its links only as numbers. When he selected the link, it queried him with a number, and a field to be filled in. He entered random numbers several times, but after three tries, the server yanked his connection. Before, the site had a warm and welcoming feeling, but now it seemed cold and concrete. As he approached the menu wall once more, the buzzing in his ears began gaining in intensity. The view seemed to get darker the closer he got. Just as he was reaching out to select a link, he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. There was someone else here! He scanned left trying to see, but the shadow filled his field of view suddenly, and he had only enough time to blink before he felt the impact to his head. He screamed. He didn't know how long he screamed, only that the distant noise he heard couldn't be anybody else because he was alone in the apartment. The visions that ripped through his brain had taken away any ability to function or move; he was powerless to do anything except watch. And he saw. A vast void, inky blackness swarming with undefined shapes. A voice, oh god that voice, ripping through the blackness like fire and music and blood. It was followed by light, burning, brilliant, brightness that sheared away any sense of self or privacy. Who could hide from the light of the world? Then followed a steady rush of images almost too fast to follow: a water covered ball, swirling in space; land thrusting through the water; life swirling in a brine pond, exploding into a swarm of animals that rapidly shifted through marine, reptile, avian, mammal, man. He saw the man open his eyes in wonder. For a brief moment he spun in a utopian paradise, then bucked back, revolted, as he felt the evil enter that place, like forcible sodomy. Then, the darkness came in waves, as he saw the progression of man, hand in hand with the progression of evil. He saw war, jealousy. adultery, hate. He saw men of power rape and pillage, bathing in the blood of the conquered. He saw the kind looking man approach the little girl with a small smile on his face, and hold out his palm with a piece of candy in it. He saw the atrocities that followed, and was vaguely aware that he had vomited on himself. He saw all of this, but underneath it was something else. At the edges of his consciousness, he could vaguely make out a pattern of energy coming together, individual pulses of light touching, reaching, joining. As he watched, the pattern became clearer and clearer, and he realized they were forming a face. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, he did not want to see that face. Tears ran down his face, and his low gibbering gradually became a soft whimper as the pattern coalesced. He understood now what it was all about, man's incessant drive to connect, to network, to tie all known knowledge together on to a series of rapidly pulsating lights through spun glass. As the face took shape, the eyes slowly opened, and he screamed again, until mercifully, there was no more, and he sank into the blackness. The police detective stood over the slumped figure in the chair, looking pityingly down at the softly whimpering man whose eyes were devoid of consciousness. He turned to his partner. "This is the 12th one in two weeks," he said. "What the hell was he looking at?" "I'm not sure," came the reply, "We're trying to figure it out now. Whatever it was, I don't think he liked it." "Sir, we've isolated the data stream that he was accessing last, but there is somewhat of a problem," the police tech at the PC reported, "I don't think it's going to be any help." "Why is that?" "Because it's just raw system code, sir. It doesn't have any text translation, it's just the code that drives the internet." "Let me look at it," the detective responded, and crossed to the monitor. "Oh my god," he exhaled, and sat down heavily. On the monitor, over and over, the binary streamed unchanging. 00000110.00000110.00000110 00000110.00000110.00000110 00000110.00000110.00000110 00000110.00000110.00000110 00000110.00000110.00000110 00000110.00000110.00000110 Copyright © 2000 Chris Jenkins All Rights Reserved Chris Jenkins is a Frame Relay Tech and monthly columnist for WWW.Spark-Online.com. He also moderates a technologies discussion board, and can be reached at CMJDBA@Yahoo.com. He is currently working on his first novel.
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