Mascot "Kumi" © 2005 Chastain & Fan Works Inc. All Rights Reserved. Mascot "Kumi" © 2005 Chastain & Fan Works Inc. All Rights Reserved.
 
Memorial - In Loving Memory of Chester Gregorich, 1981-2005
Home | Directory | Help & Tools | Just In! | [Search]
[Log In | Join]
Books Fan Fiction >> Neuromancer

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

 

[View Printer Friendly Version]

The Turing Registry
By Thomas Hobbes

 

The Turing Registry



A William Gibson/Neuromancer inspired fanfiction.



Program a map to display frequency of data exchange, every thousand megabytes a single pixel on
a very large screen. Manhattan and Atlanta burn solid white. Then they start to pulse, the rate
of traffic threatening to overload your simulation. Your map is about to go nova. Cool it down.
Up your scale. Each pixel a million megabytes. At a hundred million megabytes per second, you
begin to make out certain blocks in midtown Manhattan, outlines of hundred-year-old industrial
parks ringing the old core of Atlanta...


Now program that same map in cyberspace, once your scale was high enough you would be able to
see an odd shape, no data at all but data flowing around it, outlining it...


The sky above the New York Ono-Sendai's research facility was the color of television, tuned to
a dead channel.


Of course no one noticed they were too busy celebrating the world's first AI, 'Artificial
Intelligence'. Bottles of champagne popped and foamed; a few programmers already had glazed
looks in their eyes.


In the matrix a new form began to fade-in as the AI reached out into the outside world, it faded
-in next to the stepped scarlet pyramid of the Eastern Seaboard Fission Authority, within a few
seconds it was larger and still growing - cloaked in black ice. One half drunk programmer
stumbled against the terminal, his scream cut through the bustling noise of the party. Everyone
turned and looked at the suddenly pale man, swaying and staring wildly at the screen.


In the matrix the new form continued to grow, cowboys clustering around it as word spread, one
jockey got to close and died, no mess no fuss, at least to the watching cowboys. The programmers
ran towards him as he fell, one of them caught him just before he hit the sterile, white floor.
No one cared; they were too busy staring at the screen - their faces mirroring the man on the
floor.


The shape continued to grow in the matrix, a few of the best cowboys began to organize an attack,
eager to get revenge on whatever had killed the jockey without him even touching the ice. One of
the programmers began to mumble solving endlessly complex as the only way to keep sane, others
twitched, kept staring or just fell to the floor - unable to handle it. The matrix loomed large
before a group of cowboys; they punched forward, launching multiple icebreakers. The icebreakers
bored in, stolen military programs from places such as Russia, China, and Iran.


One of the programmers mustered the presence to slap the large red external kill switch next to
the terminal but it was too late. All over the facility sleek black pointed doors slid down
towards the cables connecting them to the outside world. The AI diverted its attention, enough
to stop the doors and to activate the internal defense system. Massive shutters slid down over
doors and windows, while vents pumped slow-acting nerve gas into the air. The programmer who had
hit the switch sat down and jacked in, doing what he could to distract the AI. Another
programmer organized the rest who were still sane and set off to cut the trunk lines by hand.


As the cowboys punched through the ice, one lost control of his icebreaker and screamed - the
black ice neural feedbacking into his brains. Other cowboys lost control and followed the first
one into death but some continued on, riding their icebreakers in, regardless. The first few
people in the building started to die weak lungs or some other sickness contributing to their
downfall. The man jacked in was called, by his friends and online, The Monk or just Monk. He
was one of the best console programmers around; he's so involved in the matrix he doesn't even
notice his body slowly failing around him. He is trying desperately to regain control of the
manual override switches, the AI - under attack from him and the icebreakers slipped, just
slightly but enough for the Monk to grab control. Elsewhere in the building a high-level manager
chose this time to hit emergency transfer switch, moving a copy of the AI (to a clean room, no
outside connections), and the latest files and research notes to the backup sites in San
Francisco and Osaka. The AI loses control, the manual override command coming under the Monk's
control.


Even as the icebreakers broke through the three surviving cowboys become instant legends,
they're staring at an incredibly hi-resolution field of absolutely nothing. The Monk, finally
realizing his body was dying stretched out his arm and hit the external and internal kill
switches. The doors slammed down, this time uninterrupted, cutting the trunk lines and severing
the AI from the outside world. The office building, so high it touches the green spirals of
military systems, representing the AI shattered. Ripples spread throughout the matrix the cowboys
next to the storm of slivers died, cut by the black ice. After the storm of death is over, a
quarter of the gathered cowboys had died but the three jockeys that had been inside were
untouched.


The first police units arrive at the Ono-Sendai facility, BAMA Rapids shortly followed by NYPD
Tacticals. They blow through the armored shutters but it is too late, the nerve gas had done
its work all to well.


Within a few hours Ono-Sendai has become the largest console design/manufacturer, jumping past
IBM, Mitsu-G and even Hosaka while buying up most of the smaller fry. NAFTA is paid off, as are
the cowboys who had watched. The story doesn't spread, the cowboys too well paid.


The next day the major console companies and a few of their bought governments created the
Turing Registry - a police force created to regulate AI's, controlled by no one and with no
boundaries to stop them.



Glossary



ICE or ice - Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics. It's like a firewall combined with an anti-
virus.

Black ICE - Similar to ICE but it incorporates illegal (or legal depending on the company's
influence.) neural feedback that kills any cowboys who can't beat it.

ICEbreaker or icebreaker - A user-controlled virus.

The matrix - The matrix is an abstract representation of the relationships between data systems.

A deck or console - A more sophisticated version of a regular computer, able to access the
matrix using a set of trodes.

NAFTA - A political body comprised of the former countries of Canada, the USA and Mexico.
It's directly controlled by large corporations, as are most governments.

BAMA - The Boston Atlantic Metropolitan Axis, the largest city in the world.

Ono-Sendai - The largest computer/console design and construction company, headquartered in
Japan.

IBM - International Business Machine. The largest computer/console manufacturer headquartered
in NAFTA.

Mitsu-G - The third largest computer/console manufacturer headquartered in Japan.

Hosaka - The second largest computer/console chip manufacturer headquartered in Japan.

Cowboys or console jockeys- Hackers.

AI - Artificial Intelligence. Turing cops restrict how smart they're allowed to get.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

[Return to Top]

TOS  |  Privacy Policy  |  Questions/Comments?  |  Found a bug?  |  Report violations of the TOS
Powered by E-FanWorks v3.9.9b © Null Referrence Software 2003-2006