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Abacus Brief: Moonlit Knight's cyberwar and peace
Abacus Brief: Moonlit Knight's cyberwar and peace
Abacus Brief: Moonlit Knight's cyberwar and peace
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Abacus Brief: Moonlit Knight's cyberwar and peace

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Act Three of the cyberhug.me novel.

A dangerous cyberwar maze on a romantic Pacific island. Solve for peace and human rights. (and a little love)

Excerpt fron the book:

As Shawny passes my table I stage whisper; "cyberhug me."

The news walls are full of reports of the jail break at the mental hospital, but she shows no reaction. Life is full of disappointments. Her service is good, so I speak a nice tip into my borrowed 'tronics when I'm ready to leave. A munged confirmation comes back - I've been hacked!

in park *pond* aft3r sundown

Excerpt from the writings of Shawny Cycasin Sago:

"Hackers combine art with production, crafting beautiful results. Hackers Have Purpose. That purpose may be to learn, improve, create, teach, and ever more frequently: support human rights.

The pirates that stole our island are not fun loving caricatures; but brutal rapists, torturers, and mass murders. They are what real pirates have always been. If you want to be a pirate, sail with pirates. If you want to survive, listen to us hackers -- get off our island.

Check your histories, our island has dealt with pirates before.”

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 11, 2011
ISBN2940012703262
Abacus Brief: Moonlit Knight's cyberwar and peace
Author

Allan R. Wallace

"If you view change as a problem rather than an opportunity you'll always be too late. Visionaries and crackpots are always too soon and pay a high price for their insight.We can accept that." ~ Allan R. Wallace

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    Book preview

    Abacus Brief - Allan R. Wallace

    Abacus Brief

    by

    Allan R. Wallace

    Copyright: Allan R. Wallace 2010, 2011

    Published by Allan Wallace on Smashwords

    http://cyberhug.me

    License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy.

    Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    This is a work of fiction: people, places, and events. It is not as deep as English teachers might imagine, nor an imaginative portrayal of history as professors may think, but, it could happen just this way.

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Chapter 1: Cyberwar And Peace

    Chapter 2: My People Will Wait

    Chapter 3: Punkk Kidd Goes To War

    Chapter 4: How do I hack from a little grass shack?

    Chapter 5: Waterfall City

    Chapter 6: native hacktivists re-coding their own government

    Chapter 7: Cyberhug

    Chapter 8: Caution: business hackers at work

    Chapter 9: Hackers As Idea Sherpas, carrying your future.

    Chapter 10: basking under anarcho-monarchy

    Chapter 11: Hackers and Pirates and You

    Chapter 12: Unseen Hacking Legends

    Chapter 13: Pirates In Peril

    Chapter 13.5: The Hidden Chapter

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15: fighting pirates

    Chapter 16: King and Queen

    dedicated to my mom

    Ella Mildred Conn

    After all these years, all these

    mistakes, she still believes in me.

    A novel about hacktivists

    fighting for human rights.

    Chapter 1: Cyberwar And Peace

    When I first see Shawny, it is not her large frame, pacific island tribal tattoo, or well proportioned figure that hold my attention. It is the intelligence in her manner and particularly her eyes. She also treats me like a human.

    She's a waitress, but there aren't many jobs requiring that much patience under pressure. As to tribal antecedents and affections, few realize in constant tribal warfare, beyond the need for size; are survival factors such as intelligence, adaptability, resourcefulness, quickness, fast reflexes, good peripheral vision, cunning -- to name but a few. Assuming her to be an advanced student, I think about asking which classes are her favorites, hoping they're the sort that require extensive use of computing devices. Time being important, I settle on a less subtle test. As Shawny passes my table I stage whisper; cyberhug me.

    The news walls are full of reports of the jail break at the mental hospital, but she shows no reaction. Life is full of disappointments. Her service is good, so I speak a nice tip into my borrowed 'tronics when I'm ready to leave. A munged confirmation comes back -- I've been hacked!

    in park *@pond* aft3r sundown

    The Jail Break…

    had worked just as I had planned.

    Which is good, since I was in the jail's mental ward when the freedom fighters broke in.

    They released everyone, although appropriate transportation was only available for political prisoners, such as myself, requiring medical attention. I had top quality attention, once the medical team finished stabilizing the former president who shared my conveyance. Not only is he more valuable to the fighters than myself, he suffered longer at the hands of torturers.

    Let me be clear, it wasn't part of the plan that I end up in jail. A mole in the underground saw a foreigner talking to important people and had me picked up. They thought I was either a citizen journalist sympathetic to the revolution, or a provocateur. They could have just asked, but thought it more fun to break fingers, burn appendages, and promise me truth drugs before I died. None of that was on my calendar.

    I don't keep a physical calendar, but on principle I object to unscheduled interruptions.

    I let doctors set my fingers, mash together my toes, and apply salve and wrappings to my extremities. It was the gracious thing to do. Once at their clinic; I acquired a few sets of loose clothing, some audio programmable 'tronics, and made an unannounced departure. We had separate rooms, I'm sure the ex-president won't miss me.

    I can find the political underground if I wish, but it seems healthier if they don't know where to find me.

    This means until I'm sufficiently healed, I can't hack. I need a brilliant, sensitive techie to train in the ancient and honorable art of hackdo, the way of the code. With help I may stop this war, and the gross injustices that accompany criminal perpetrators of hate and fear.

    So I'll keep my date by the pond. My hopes are Shawny, and the friends I know she'll have as backup, can provide answers.

    It'll also help if my new tech support can cook a decent hamburger.

    It turns out Shawny's backup are all in her family, most of them technically sophisticated. Worries about spies cease. I told you she was bright. I decide to avoid unpleasant conversations with a war club, determining to look only at her eyes.

    Drat!

    Chapter 2: My People Will Wait

    Our Goals Are Simple

    All we want is our island back.

    So we study our overlords and their tools, we mingle for a time in their society, and we hide the reality of our goals behind simple folk ways. We are ready, an opportunity will arise, we just need to be open enough not to let it pass us by. The Kid may be a key to that opportunity. We will find out.

    I'm Shawny Welcome to our island.

    Officially none of us natives take last names. It's traditional and it frustrates bureaucratic Others. In public I am Shawny, just like my mother and several of my cousins. We know who we are talking about by the context of our conversations, Others have to guess. If a second name is required we pick a name of an animal or plant, changing it often like a password. Winning will be harder if we allow the enemy to acquire good intelligence about us; if they realize we are more than tourist attractions. Of course Others are not our enemies, but their governmental structure requiring conformity must eventually be dismantled. They will resent that necessity. The People are patient. We are ready, adaptable, and waiting to do the dismantling.

    When the kid enters the restaurant, I'm the only one paying attention. I tell him to take any table. He's maybe a little younger than me, but walking like an old man, careful how he steps in his oversize slippers. There are splints on some of his fingers, and gauze peeking out of the neck of his loose shirt. It looks like he may have wounds, not injuries. His problems are not mine, but I'm curious. It's easy to think he might have been part of the jail break, no one I know escaped the torturers uninjured.

    He chooses a table almost automatically, like by habit. His back is to a wall, he's close to an emergency exit and a possible kitchen exit, and not so close to other customers they will pay attention to him. The exits can't be important to him, there's no way he can run on those feet. His table choice also makes him a bit further to serve. Jackson, an Other who is also part of the wait staff looks dismayed at the extra few steps of work. I waive him off and help the kid myself.

    Not many customers introduce themselves. Most are either too interested in me as a commodity, or not interested in servants at all. He tells me to call him Kid, for some reason

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