“The password is 1275,” he said in a hissed whisper.
I waited, but he said nothing more. “That’s it? That’s all you have to go on? This torn map and a couple of numbers?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yes. I thought you were an expert.”
“I am an expert. Even experts need clues.” I sighed, swiveled my chair, and propped my feet on the filing cabinet.
After a few moments he interrupted my thoughts with a dry cough.
I met his eyes. “Maybe. I have a few guesses-- places to start, anyway. No guarantee. Retainer is a hundred a day, plus expenses. Ten percent if I make good. Five hundred up front.”
He fished the bills from his wallet and set them on my desk.
I moved them to my back pocket. “All right. Come back at this time in two days and I’ll give you an update.” I swiveled to the window, and watched the city until I head the office door close behind him.
The truth was that I had more than a guess. The map had a title across the top in block letters: “ARPANET.” ARPANET isn’t a country or a city or an island. It was never a physical location, and doesn’t even exist anymore. It was simply an early network of computers – a precursor to the modern internet. That didn’t explain the strange format of the map. It was drawn as if ARPANET was a place. Computer systems were represented as if they were cities or landmarks, each labeled with a name and separated by seemingly arbitrary distances. Roads connected them, though the roads looked a little too straight and plain, like a sort of subway map. The one labeled RADC was circled, and the numbers “1275” scrawled next to it. I didn’t know much more about ARPANET; not enough to recognize the computer’s name. But I had a few contacts that might. I put on my trench coat and pulled my fedora down over my eyes. The street outside my office isn’t a nice one. It’s dim and dirty, and touches on numerous alleys which are still darker. I hadn’t gotten far before I heard the sharp, short sound of someone taking quick steps in hard-soled shoes. As I began to turn around, something jabbed my side, and the world spun. I dropped to the pavement. I couldn’t see, but I heard a phone being dialed.
A man’s voice said, “Upload. Node: RADC.”
“Verify!” answered a coarse, tinny voice from the phone.
“1-2-7-5”
There was a strange sound, and then the phone hit the ground beside me. I blacked out. When I woke, there was no trace of my assailant; just a strange phone with no buttons.
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