Cyberpunk

Popovich and Rosenbaum left, but the traffic on the newsgroups had fallen down to near zero. He and Van hadn’t had much time to play Republic of Cyberspace. They’d been too busy learning the systems that Popovich had turned over to them, the big, big routers that had gone on acting as the major interchange for all the network backbones in Canada.
    Still, someone posted to the newsgroups every now and again, generally to say goodbye. The old flamewars about who would be PM , or whether they would shut down the network, or who took too much food—it was all gone.
    He reloaded the newsgroup. There was a typical message.
    > Runaway processes on Solaris TK
    >
    > Uh, hi. I’m just a lightweight MSCE but I’m the only one awake here and four of the DSLAMS just went down. Looks like there’s some custom accounting code that’s trying to figure out how much to bill our corporate customers and it’s spawned ten thousand threads and it’s eating all the swap. I just want to kill it but I can’t seem to do that. Is there some magic invocation I need to do to get this goddamned weenix box to kill this shit? I mean, it’s not as if any of our customers are ever going to pay us again. I’d ask the guy who wrote this code, but he’s pretty much dead as far as anyone can work out.
    He reloaded. There was a response. It was short, authoritative, and helpful—just the sort of thing you almost never saw in a high-caliber newsgroup when a noob posted a dumb question. The apocalypse had awoken the spirit of patient helpfulness in the world’s sysop community.
    Van shoulder-surfed him. “Holy shit, who knew he had it in him?”
    He looked at the message again. It was from Will Sario.
    He dropped into his chat window.
    > sario i thought you wanted the network dead why are you helping msces fix their boxen?
    > [sheepish grin] Gee Mr PM , maybe I just can’t bear to watch a computer suffer at the hands of an amateur.
    He flipped to the channel with Queen Kong in it.
    > How long?
    > Since I slept? Two days. Until we run out of fuel? Three days. Since we ran out of food? Two days.
    > Jeez. I didn’t sleep last night either. We’re a little short-handed around here.
    > asl? Im monica and I live in pasadena and Im bored with my homework. Would you like to download my pic???
    The trojan bots were all over IRC these days, jumping to every channel that had any traffic on it. Sometimes you caught five or six flirting with each other.
    It was pretty weird to watch a piece of malware try to con another instance of itself into downloading a trojan.
    They both kicked the bot off the channel simultaneously. He had a script for it now. The spam hadn’t even tailed off a little.
    > How come the spam isn’t reducing? Half the goddamned data centers have gone dark
    Queen Kong paused a long time before typing. As had become automatic when she went high-latency, he reloaded the Google homepage. Sure enough, it was down.
    > Sario, you got any food?
    > You won’t miss a couple more meals, Your Excellency
    Van had gone back to Mayor McCheese but he was in the same channel.
    “What a dick. You’re looking pretty buff, though, dude.”
    Van didn’t look so good. He looked like you could knock him over with a stiff breeze and he had a phlegmy, weak quality to his speech.
    > hey kong everything okay?
    > everything’s fine just had to go kick some ass
    “How’s the traffic, Van?”
    “Down 25 percent from this morning,” he said. There were a bunch of nodes whose connections routed through them. Presumably most of these were home or commercial customers in places where the power was still on and the phone company’s COS were still alive.
    Every once in a while, Felix would wiretap the connections to see if he could find a person who had news of the wide world. Almost all of it was automated traffic, though: network backups, status updates. Spam. Lots of spam.
    > Spam’s still up because the services that stop spam are failing faster than the services that create it. All the anti-worm stuff is centralized in a couple places. The bad stuff is on a million zombie computers. If only the lusers had had the good sense to turn off their home PC s before keeling over or taking off.
    > at the rate were going well be routing nothing but spam by dinnertime
    Van cleared his throat, a painful sound. “About that,” he said. “I think it’s going to hit sooner than that. Felix, I don’t think anyone would notice if we just walked away from