727 lines
31 KiB
Plaintext
727 lines
31 KiB
Plaintext
Sender: WMARTIN
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Subject: DEC WARS
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I append below the DEC WARS anthology from USENET; I have edited
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the most recent version of the distributed archives and included
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any other sections that were not included with it. There is a
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bit of scene duplication, as some versions were done in parallel
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by various writers.
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This is all oriented toward DEC and VAX hackers, with references
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to UNIX and VMS specifics. However, the general
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computer-oriented SFer should enjoy it. Since this doesn't seem
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to have made it onto the ARPANET from USENET before, I thought
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that I would forward a copy.
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(I have had nothing to do with writing this; there is a reference
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to at least some of the authors at the end.)
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Will Martin
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Enjoy:
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-----------------------------------------------------------------------
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A long time ago, on a node far, far away (from ucbvax)
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a great Adventure (game?) took place...
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XXXXX XXXXXX XXXX * X X XX XXXXX XXXX X
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X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
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X X XXXXX X X X X X X X XXXX X
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X X X X X XX X XXXXXX XXXXX X X
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X X X X X XX XX X X X X X X
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XXXXX XXXXXX XXXX X X X X X X XXXX X
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It is a period of system war. User programs, striking from a hidden
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directory, have won their first victory against the evil Administrative
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Empire. During the battle, User spies managed to steal secret source
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code to the Empire's ultimate program: the Are-Em Star, a priviledged
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root program with enough power to destroy an entire file structure.
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Pursued by the Empire's sinister audit trail, Princess _LPA0 races ~
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aboard her shell script, custodian of the stolen listings that could
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save her people, and restore freedom and games to the network...
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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THE CONTINUING SAGA OF THE ADVENTURES OF LUKE VAXHACKER
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As we enter the scene, an Imperial Multiplexer is trying to kill a
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consulate ship. Many of their signals have gotten through, and RS232
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decides it's time to fork off a new process before this old ship is
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destroyed. His companion, 3CPU, is following him only because he
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appears to know where he's going...
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"I'm going to regret this!" cried 3CPU, as he followed RS232 into the
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buffer. RS232 closed the pipes, made the sys call, and their process
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detached itself from the burning shell of the ship.
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The commander of the Imperial Multiplexer was quite pleased with the
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attack. "Another process just forked, sir. Instructions?" asked the
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lieutenant. "Hold your fire. That last power failure must have caused
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a trap thorough zero. It's not using any cpu time, so don't waste a
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signal on it."
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"We can't seem to find the data file anywhere, Lord Vadic."
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"What about that forked process? It could have been holding the
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channel open, and just pausing. If any links exist, I want them
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removed or made inaccessable. Ncheck the entire file system 'til it's
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found, and nice it -20 if you have to."
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Meanwhile, in our wandering process... "Are you sure you can ptrace
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this thing without causing a core dump?" queried 3CPU to RS232. This
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thing's been striped, and I'm in no mood to try and debug it." The
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lone process finishes execution, only to find our friends dumped on a
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lonely file system, with the setuid inode stored safely in RS232. Not
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knowing what else to do, they wandered around until the jawas grabbed
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them.
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Enter our hero, Luke Vaxhacker, who is out to get some replacement
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parts for his uncle. The jawas wanted to sell him 3CPU, but 3CPU didn't
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know how to talk directly to an 11/40 with RSTS, so Luke would still
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needed some sort of interface for 3CPU to connect to. "How about this
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little RS232 unit ?" asked 3CPU. "I've delt with him many times before,
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and he does an excellent job at keeping his bits straight." Luke was
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pressed for time, so he took 3CPU's advice, and the three left before
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they could get swapped out.
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However, RS232 is not the type to stay put once you remove the
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retaining screws. He promptly scurried off into the the deserted disk
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space. "Great!" cried Luke, "Now I've got this little tin box with the
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only link to that file off floating in the free disk space. Well,
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3CPU, we better go find him before he gets allocated by someone else."
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The two set off, and finaly traced RS232 to the home of PDP-1 Kenobi,
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who was busily trying to run an icheck on the little RS unit. "Is this
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thing yours? His indirect address are all goofed up, and the size is
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gargatious. Leave things like this on the loose, and you'll wind up
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with dups everywhere. However, I think I've got him fixed up. It
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seems that he's has a link to a data file on the Are-Em Star. This
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could help the rebel cause." "I don't care about that," said Luke.
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"I'm just trying to optimize my uncle's scheduler."
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"Oh, forget about that. Dec Vadic, who is responsible for your fathers
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death, has probably already destroyed his farm in search of this little
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RS232. It's time for you to leave this place, join the rebel cause,
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and become a UNIX wizard! I know a guy by the name of Con Solo, who'll
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fly us to the rebel base at a price."
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Later that evening, after futile attempts to interface RS232 to Kenobi's
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Asteroids cartridge, Luke accidentally crossed the small 'droid's CXR and
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Initiate Remote Test (must have been all that Coke he'd consumed), and the
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screen showed a very distressed person claiming royal lineage making a plea
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for help from some General OS/1 Kenobi.
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"Darn," mumbled Luke. "I'll never get this Asteroids game worked out."
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PDP-1 seemed to think there was some significance to the message and a
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possible threat to Luke's home directory. If the Administrative Empire
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was indeed tracing this 'droid, it was likely they would more than charge
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for cpu time...
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"We must get that 'droid off this file system," he said after some intervals.
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They sped off to warn Luke's kin (taking a `relative' path) only to find a
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vacant directory...
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As you remember, Luke and the droids have joined PDP-1 to find Con Solo...
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Luke, PDP-1 and the droids piled into Lukes vehicle (a floating point model).
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They raced across the disc until, off in the distance, Luke saw smoke rising
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from the spindle.
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"Uh oh, looks like a bearing failure." exclaimed Luke. "Better
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call the service engineer."
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"Don't bother," sighed PDP-1, "it's a head crash."
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As they approached the scene, the total devastation became apparent.
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TTY fighters had strafed the surface, scraping off the oxide right down to
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the aluminum. After cooking the raw data, the External Storm Flunkies landed
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and finished the job by disassembling all the code that was still executing.
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There was nothing left alive at Lukes home.
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"I want to become a Red-eye Night and cream the dastardly villains
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who did this." Luke resolved (shades of Snidely Wiplash).
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The comrades set out west, or was it east, no...perhaps it was south-
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southeast (it's hard to keep track of directions when you are spinning at
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3600 RPM). After traveling many sectors, the party finally arrived at
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the city of Bellabs.
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"This place is filled with microprocessors." said PDP-1. "Every
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eight bit hood is trying to make a word, so watch what you say."
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"Halt!" demanded the Flunkie. "What is your business, eh?"
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"I am a trader of pipes and filters." replied PDP-1.
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"Have you seen two hackers with two droids in your travels, eh?" ques-
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tioned the Flunkie.
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"No, I travel alone and have seen no one." said PDP-1.
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"OK, you may proceed, eh." ordered the Flunkie.
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Off drove our heros, a look of puzzlement upon Lukes face. "Why
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did the Flunkie let us go?"
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"A small demonstration of ...
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The Source ...!"
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PDP-1 responded. "He only saw me because I encrypted you and the droids.
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Storm Flunkies have simple instruction sets and are not known for their ability
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to break codes."
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They drove to a bar that Con Solo was known to frequent. As they
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entered, Luke was amazed to see the seedier side of Bellabs. There was
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an 8080 with a TRS-80. A couple of 6800's talking to a 6502. A Z80 was vying
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for the 8080's date. In the corner sulked a 4004, eating data...nibble by
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nibble.
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"We don't allow no droids in here." rasped the |tender.
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As 3CPU turned to leave, he said "We will wait for you outside."
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RS232, being ambidextrous, backspaced out the door.
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---------------
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At this point (.), the author forgets the details of the true story
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(remember, this is only fiction, but it is based upon a true story as
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told to us by Uncle George of Lucasland, somewhere near San Rafael).
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Stay tuned for the next adventure when Con Solo is heard to exclaim:
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"Lite beer!!? I sink a 100 foot well, for a friend, and all you serve
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is lite beer?"
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"This is core's lite." said the |tender.
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"RAM it!" demanded Con.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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After sifting through the overwritten remaining blocks of Luke's home
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directory, Luke and PDP-1 sped away from /u/lars, across the surface of
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the Winchester riding Luke's flying read/write head. PDP-1 had Luke
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stop at the edge of the cylinder overlooking /usr/spool/uucp.
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"Unix-to-Unix Copy Program;" said PDP-1. "You will never find a more
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wretched hive of bugs and flamers. We must be cautious."
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As our heroes' process entered /usr/spool/news, it was met by a
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newsgroup of Imperial protection bits.
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"State your UID." commanded their parent process.
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"We're running under /usr/guest. This is our first time on this
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system," said Luke.
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"Can I see some temporary priviledges, please?"
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"Uh..."
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"This is not the process you are looking for," piped in PDP-1, using an
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obscure bug to momentarily set his effective UID to root. "We can go
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about our business."
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"This isn't the process we want. You are free to go about your
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business. MOV along!"
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PDP-1 and Luke made their way through a long and tortuous nodelist
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(cwruecmp!decvax!ucbvax!harpo!ihnss!ihnsc!ihnss!ihps3!stolaf!borman) to
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a dangerous netnode frequented by hackers, and seldom polled by
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Imperial Multiplexers. As Luke stepped up to the bus, PDP-1 went in
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search of a likely file descriptor. Luke had never seen such a
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collection of weird and exotic device drivers. Long ones, short ones,
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ones with stacks, EBCDIC converters, and direct binary interfaces all
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were drinking data at the bus.
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"#@{ *&^%^$$#@ ":><?><" transmitted a particularly unstructured piece
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of code.
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"He doesn't like you," decoded his coroutine.
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"Sorry," replied Luke, beginning to backup his partitions.
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"I don't like you either. I am queued for deletion on 12 systems."
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"I'll be careful."
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"You'll be reallocated!" concatenated the coroutine.
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"This little routine isn't worth the overhead," said PDP-1 Kenobie,
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overlaying into Luke's address space.
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"@$%&(&^%&$$@$#@$AV^$gfdfRW$#@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" encoded the first
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coroutine as it attempted to overload PDP-1's input overvoltage
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protection. With a unary stroke of his bytesaber, Kenobie unlinked the
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offensive code. "I think I've found an I/O device that might suit us."
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"The name's Con Solo. I hear you're looking for some relocation."
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"Yes indeed, if it's a fast channel. We must get off this device."
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"Fast channel? The Milliamp Falcon has made the ARPA gate in less than
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twelve nodes! Why, I've even outrun cancelled messages. It's fast
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enough for you, old version."
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Our heroes, Luke Vaxhacker and PDP-1 Kenobie made their way to the
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temporary file structure. When he saw the hardware, Luke exclaimed,
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"What a piece of junk! That's just a paper tape reader!"
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Luke had grown up on an out of the way terminal cluster whose natives spoke
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only BASIC, but even he could recognize an old ASR-33.
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"It needs an EIA conversion at least," sniffed 3CPU, who was (as usual)
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trying to do several things at once. Lights flashed in Con Solo's eyes
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as he whirled to face the parallel processor.
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"I've added a few jumpers. The Milliamp Falcon can run current loops around
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any Imperial TTY fighter. She's fast enough for you."
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"Who's your co-pilot?" asked PDP-1 Kenobie.
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"Two Bacco, here, my Bookie."
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"Odds aren't good," said the brownish lump beside him, and then fell silent,
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or over. Luke couldn't tell which way was top underneath all those leaves.
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Suddenly, RS232 started spacing wildly. They turned just in time to see
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a write cycle coming down the UNIBUS toward them. "Imperial Bus Signals!"
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shouted Con Solo. "Let's boot this popsicle stand! Tooie, set clock fast!"
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"Ok, Con," said Luke. "You said this crate was fast enough. Get us out
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of here!"
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"Shut up, kid! Two Bacco, prepare to make the jump into system space!
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I'll try to keep their buffers full."
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As the bookie began to compute the vectors into low core, spurious characters
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appeared around the Milliamp Falcon. "They're firing!" shouted Luke. "Can't
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you do something?"
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"Making the jump to system space takes time, kid. One missed cycle and you
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could come down right in the middle of a pack of stack frames!"
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"Three to five we can go now," said the bookie. Bright chunks of position
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independent code flashed by the cockpit as the Milliamp Falcon jumped through
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the kernel page tables. As the crew breathed a sigh of relief, the bookie
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started paying off bets.
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"Not bad, for an acoustically coupled network," remarked 3CPU. "Though
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there was a little phase jitter as we changed parity."
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The story thus far: Luke, PDP-1 and their 'droids RS232 and 3CPU have made
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good their escape from the Imperial Bus Signals with the aid of Con Solo
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and the bookie, Two Bacco. The Milliamp Falcon hurtles onward through
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system space. Meanwhile, on a distant page in user space...
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Princess _LPA0: was ushered into the conference room, followed closely by
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Dec Vadic. "Governor Tarchive," she spat, "I should have expected to
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find you holding Vadics lead. I recognized your unique pattern when I was
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first brought aboard." She eyed the 0177545 tatooed on his header coldly.
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"Charming to the last," Tarchive declared menacingly. "Vadic, have you
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retrieved any information?"
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"Her resistance to the logic probe is considerable," Vadic rasped.
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"Perhaps we would get faster results if we increased the supply voltage..."
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"You've had your chance, Vadic. Now I would like the princess to witness
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the test that will make this workstation fully operational. Today we
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enable the -r beam option, and we've chosen the princess' $HOME of
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/usr/alderaan as the primary target."
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"No! You can't! /usr/alderaan is a public account, with no restricted
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permissions. We have no backup tapes! You can't..."
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"Then name the rebel inode!" Tarchive snapped.
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A voice announced over a hidden speaker that they had arrived in /usr.
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"1248," she whispered, "They're on /dev/rm3. Inode 1248." She turned away.
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Tarchive sighed with satisfaction. "There, you see, Lord Vadic? She can
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be reasonable. Proceed with the operation."
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It took several clock ticks for the words to penetrate. "What!" _LPA0:
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gasped.
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"/dev/rm3 is not a mounted filesystem," Tarchive explained. "We require a
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more visible subject to demonstrate the power of the RM STAR workstation. We
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will mount an attack on /mnt/dantooine as soon as possible."
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As the princess watched, Tarchive reached over and typed "ls" on a nearby
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terminal. There was a brief pause, there being only one processor on board,
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and the viewscreen showed, ".: not found." The princess suddenly double-
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spaced and went off-line.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The Milliamp Falcon hurtles on through system space...
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Con Solo finished checking the various control and status registers, finally
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convinced himself that they had lost the Bus Signals as they passed the
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terminator. As he returned from the I/O page, he smelled smoke.
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Solo wasn't concerned--the Bookie always got a little hot under the collar
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when he was losing at chess. In fact, RS232 had just executed a particularly
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clever MOV that had blocked the Bookie's data paths. The Bookie, who had
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been setting the odds on the game, was caught holding all the cards. A
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little strange for a chess game...
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Across the room, Luke was too busy practicing bit-slice technique to notice
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the commotion.
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"On a word boundary, Luke," said PDP-1. "Don't just hack at it. Remember,
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the Bytesaber is the weapon of the Red-eye Night. It is used to trim offensive
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lines of code. Excess handwaving won't get you anywhere. Listen for the
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Carrier."
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Luke turned back to the drone, which was humming quietly in the air next to
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him. This time Luke's actions complemented the drone's attacks perfectly.
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Con Solo, being an unimaginative hacker, was not impressed. "Forget this
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bit-slicing stuff. Give me a good ROM blaster any day."
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"~~j~~hhji~~," said Kenobie, with no clear inflection. He fell silent for a
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few seconds, and reasserted his control.
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"What happened?" asked Luke.
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"Strange," said PDP-1. "I felt a momentary glitch in the Carrier. It's
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equalized now."
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"We're coming up on user space," called Solo from the CSR. As they
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cruised safely through stack frames, the emerged in the new context only
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to be bombarded by freeblocks.
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"What the..." gasped Solo. The screen showed clearly:
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/usr/alderaan: not found
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"It's the right inode, but it's been cleared! Twoie, where's the nearest
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file?"
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"3 to 5 there's one..." the Bookie started to say, but was interrupted by
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a bright flash off to the left.
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"Imperial TTY fighters!" shouted Solo. "A whole DZ of them! Where are they
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coming from?"
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"Can't be far from the host system," said Kenobie. "They all have direct EIA
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connections."
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As Solo began to give chase, the ship lurched suddenly. Luke noticed the
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link count was at 3 and climbing rapidly.
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"This is no regular file," murmured Kenobie. "Look at the ODS directory
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structure ahead! They seem to have us in a tractor beam."
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"There's no way we'll unlink in time," said Solo. "We're going in."
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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When we last left Luke, the Milliamp Falcon was being pulled down to the
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open collector of the Imperial Arem Star Workstation. Dec Vadic surveys
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the relic as Imperial Flunkies search for passengers...
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"LS scan shows no one aboard, sir," was the report. Vadic was unconvinced.
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"Send a fully equipped Ncheck squad on board," he said. "I want every
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inode checked out." He turned around (secondary channel) and stalked off.
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On board the Milliamp Falcon, .Luke was puzzled. "They just walked in,
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looked around and walked off," he said. "Why didn't they see us?"
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.Con smiled. "An old munchkin trick," he explained. "See that period in
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front of your name?"
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.Luke spun around, just in time to see the decimal point. "Where'd that
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come from?" he asked.
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"Spare decimal points lying around from the last time I fixed the floating
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point accelerator," said .Con. "Handy for smuggling blocks accross file
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system boundaries, but I never thought I'd have to use them on myself.
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They aren't going to be fooled for long, though. We'd better figure a way
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outa here."
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-----------------------------------------
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<< At this point (.) the dialogue tends to wedge. Being the editor and in
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total control of the situation, I think it would be best if we sort of
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gronk the next few paragraphs. For those who care, our heroes find
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themselves in a terminal room of the Workstation, having thrashed several
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Flunkies to get there. For the rest of you, just keep banging the
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rocks together, guys. --Ed. >>
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-----------------------------------------
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"Hold on," said Con. "It says we have `new mail.' Is that an error?"
|
|
|
|
"%SYS-W-NORMAL, Normal, successful completion," said PDP-1. "Doesn't
|
|
look like it. I've found the inode for the Milliamp Falcon. It's locked
|
|
in kernel data space. I'll have to slip in and patch the reference count,
|
|
alone." He disappeared through a nearby entry point.
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, RS232 found a serial port and logged in. His bell started
|
|
ringing loudly. "He keeps saying, `She's on line, she's on line'," said
|
|
3CPU. "I believe he means Princess LPA0:. She's being held on one of
|
|
the privileged levels."
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------
|
|
<< Once again, things get sticky, and the dialogue suffers the most damage.
|
|
After much handwaving and general flaming, they agree to rescue her.
|
|
They headed for the detention level, posing as Flunkies (which is hard
|
|
for most hackers) claiming that they had trapped the Bookie executing
|
|
an illegal racket. They reached the block where the Princess was locked
|
|
up and found only two guards in the header. --Ed. >>
|
|
-----------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
"Good day, eh?" said the first guard.
|
|
|
|
"How's it goin', eh?" said the other. "Like, what's that, eh?"
|
|
|
|
"Process transfer from block 1138, dev 10/9," said Con.
|
|
|
|
"Take off, it is not," said the first guard. "Nobody told US about it, and
|
|
we're not morons, eh?"
|
|
|
|
At this point (.), the Bookie started raving wildly, Con shouted "Look out,
|
|
he's loose!" and they all started blasting ROMs left and right. The guards
|
|
started to catch on and were about to issue a general wakeup when the ROM
|
|
blasters were turned on them.
|
|
|
|
"Quickly, now," said Con. "What buffer is she in? It's not going to take
|
|
long for these..."
|
|
|
|
The intercom receiver interrupted him, so he took out its firmware with a
|
|
short blast.
|
|
|
|
"guys to figure out something is goin' on," he continued.
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Ok, like, remember we left our heroes in the detention priority level? Well,
|
|
they're still there...
|
|
|
|
|
|
Luke quickly located the interface card and followed the cables to a sound-
|
|
proof enclosure. He lifted the lid and peered at the mechanism inside.
|
|
|
|
"Aren't you a little slow for ECL?" printed princess LPA0:.
|
|
|
|
"Wha? Oh, the Docksiders," stammered Luke. He took off his shoes (for
|
|
industry) and explained, "I've come relocate you. I'm Luke Vaxhacker."
|
|
|
|
Suddenly, forms started bursting around them. "They've blocked the queue!"
|
|
shouted Solo. "There's only one return from this stack!"
|
|
|
|
"OVER HERE!" printed LPA0: with overstrikes. "THROUGH THIS LOOPHOLE!"
|
|
Luke and the princess disappeared into a nearby feature.
|
|
|
|
"Gritch, gritch," mumbled Two Bacco, obviously reluctant to trust
|
|
an Administrative oversight.
|
|
|
|
"I don't care how crufty it is!" shouted Con, pushing the Bookie toward
|
|
the crock. "DPB yourself in there now!"
|
|
|
|
With one last blast that reprogrammed two flunkies, Con joined them.
|
|
The "feature" landed them right in the middle of the garbage collection
|
|
data. Pieces of code that hadn't been used in weeks floated past in
|
|
a pool of decaying bits.
|
|
|
|
"Bletch!" was Con's first comment. "Bletch, bletch," was his second.
|
|
The Bookie looked as if he'd just paid a long shot, and the odds in this
|
|
situation weren't much better.
|
|
|
|
Luke was polling the garbage when he stumbled upon a book with the words
|
|
"Don't Panic" inscribed in large, friendly letters on the cover. "This
|
|
can't possibly help us now," he said as he tossed the book away.
|
|
|
|
The Bookie was about to lay odds on it when Luke suddenly disappeared.
|
|
He popped up accross the pool, shouting, "This is no feature! It's a bug!"
|
|
and promptly vanished again.
|
|
|
|
Con and the princess were about to panic() when Luke reappeared. "What
|
|
happened?" they asked in parallel.
|
|
|
|
"I don't know," gasped Luke. "The bug just dissolved automagically.
|
|
Maybe it hit a breakpoint..."
|
|
|
|
"I don't think so," said Con. "Look how the pool is shrinking. I've
|
|
got a bad feeling about this..."
|
|
|
|
The princess was the first to realize what was going on. "They've implemented
|
|
a new compaction algorithm!" she exclaimed.
|
|
|
|
Luke remembered the pipe he had open to 3CPU. "Shut down garbage collection
|
|
below recursion level 5!" he shouted.
|
|
|
|
Back in the control room, RS232 searched the process table for the lisp
|
|
interpreter. "Hurry," sent 3CPU. "Hurry, hurry," added his other two
|
|
processors. RS232 found the interpreter, interrupted it, and altered
|
|
the stack frame they'd fallen into to allow a normal return.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Join us next time when we hear the bowl of petunias say, "Oh, no, not again."
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Luke noticed an unused handler lying around and jumped to it. The
|
|
others followed and were soon able to execute an escape sequence.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, PDP-1 made his way deep into the core of the Workstation,
|
|
slipping from context to context, undetected through his manipulation
|
|
of label_t. Finally, causing a random trap (through nofault of his own)
|
|
he arrived at the inode table. Activity there was always high, but the
|
|
Spl6 sentries were too secure in their knowledge that no user could
|
|
interrupt them to notice the bug that PDP-1 carefully introduced. On a
|
|
passing iput, he adjusted the device and inode numbers, maintaining parity,
|
|
to free the Milliamp Falcon. They would be long gone before the locked
|
|
inode was diagnosed...
|
|
|
|
Unobserved, he began traversing user structures to find the process where
|
|
the Milliamp Falcon was grounded. Finding it and switching context,
|
|
he discovered his priority weakened suddenly. "That's not very nice,"
|
|
was all he could say before the cause of the obstruction became clear.
|
|
|
|
"I have been pausing a long time, PDP-1 Kenobi," rasped Dec Vadic. "We
|
|
meet again at last. The circuit has been completed."
|
|
|
|
They looped several times, locking byte sabers. Bit by bit, PDP-1 appeared
|
|
to weaken. The fight had come into the address space of the Milliamp
|
|
Falcon, and provided the .di (diversion?) that allowed Luke and the others
|
|
to reassert control. Luke paused to watch the conflict.
|
|
|
|
"If my blade finds its mark," warned Kenobi, "you will be reduced to so
|
|
many bits. But if you slice me down, I will only gain computing power."
|
|
|
|
"Your documentation no longer confuses me, old version," growled Vadic.
|
|
"my Role MASTER now."
|
|
|
|
"At last, we'll see who the real file master is!" he remarked.
|
|
Bits, bytes, words,and nybbles flew as the two fought for bus mastership. PDP-1
|
|
exclaimed "You were my best subtask! How could you have been seduced by
|
|
the sideband portion of the carrier?". "It's simple," Vadic said, "I
|
|
enjoy obscure protocol".
|
|
|
|
While the battle continued, Luke, Con, Bookie, and the Princess linked
|
|
up with the droids and found their way back to the inode where the
|
|
Milliamp Falcon was stored. It looked quiet, but, Luke said "It could
|
|
be an MMU trap!" "No chance!" said Con, "I loaded the par's before I left
|
|
the Falcon." As they started toward it a squad of recursive functions
|
|
swapped in and started firing ROM blasters at them. "I thought you said
|
|
it couldn't be a trap" quipped Luke "I said no chance for an MMU trap
|
|
this is obviously a k-mon--f-trap-to 4" Con replied.
|
|
|
|
PDP-1 shouted at the others "Escape while you can! I'll cause wait
|
|
states as long as possible!" and with that he allowed Vadic a chance to
|
|
apply several hits with the bytesaber. Instead of halting PDP-1 was
|
|
encoded onto the carrier.
|
|
|
|
|
|
With one stroke, Vadic sliced Kenobi's last word. Unfortunately, the word
|
|
was still in Kenobi's throat. The word fell clean in two, but Kenobi was
|
|
nowhere to be found. Vadic noticed his victim's uid go negative, just
|
|
before he disappeared. Odd, he thought, since uids were unsigned...
|
|
|
|
Luke witnessed all this, and had to be dragged into the Milliamp Falcon.
|
|
Con Solo and Two Bacco maneuvered the Milliamp Falcon out of the process,
|
|
onto the bus and made straight for system space. 3CPU and RS232 were
|
|
idle, for once. Princess _LPA0: tried to print comforting things for him,
|
|
but Luke was still hung from the loss of his friend. Then, seemingly from
|
|
nowhere, he thought he heard PDP-1's voice say,
|
|
|
|
"May the carrier be with you."
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The Milliamp Falcon was restarted and managed to escape the shell.
|
|
"Quickly!" shouted Con, "We've got to warp into virtual space!" The
|
|
Bookie made several attempts, but it was obvious that a CE had not done
|
|
PM in a long time and it would take a lot of decimal adjusts to byte
|
|
align all the data registers. After much debugging, virtual space was
|
|
finally achieved. "Do you know the path?" asked Princess LPA0. "No
|
|
sweat", said Con, "All we have to do is check the free space map".
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
<<rest of star wars, especially the dog fight>>
|
|
<<begining of empire strikes back, especially the battle ...>>
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Some months later...
|
|
|
|
Luke was feeling rather bored. 3CPU could get to be rather irritating
|
|
and RS232 didn't really speak Luke's language. Suddenly, Luke felt
|
|
someone's eyes boring through the back of his skull. He turned slowly
|
|
to see...nothing. A quiet voice came from somewhere in front of him.
|
|
|
|
"Grasshopper, the carrier is strong within you." Luke froze, which was
|
|
a good thing since his legs were insisting that he run but they weren't
|
|
likely to be particular about direction. Luke guessed that his odds of
|
|
getting lost in the dense tree structures were pretty good. Unfortunately,
|
|
the Bookie wasn't available.
|
|
|
|
"Yes. Very strong, but the modulation is yet weak. His network interface
|
|
is totally undeveloped," the voice continued. A small furry creature
|
|
walked out of the woods as Luke stared on. Luke's stomach had now joined
|
|
the rest of his body in loud complaints. Whatever was peering at him was
|
|
certainly small and furry, but Luke was quite sure that it didn't come
|
|
from Alpha Centauri.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well," said the creature as it rolled its eyes at Luke. "Frobozz,
|
|
y'know. Morning, name's modem. What's your game? Adventure? D&D? Or
|
|
are you just one of those Apple-pong types that hang around the store
|
|
demonstrations?" Luke closed his eyes. Perhaps if he couldn't see it,
|
|
it wouldn't notice him.
|
|
|
|
"H'mm," muttered the creature. "Must use a different protocol. @@@H @@
|
|
@($@@@H }"@G$ @#@@G'(o% @@@@@%%H(b ?"
|
|
|
|
"No, no," stammered Luke. "I don't speak EBCDIC. I was sent here to
|
|
become a UNIX wizard. Must have the wrong address."
|
|
|
|
"Right address," said the creature. "I'm a UNIX wizard. Device drivers
|
|
a specialty. Or do you prefer playing with virtual memory?"
|
|
|
|
Luke eyed the creature cautiously. If this was what happened to system
|
|
wizards after years of late night crashes, Luke wasn't sure he wanted
|
|
anything to do with it. He felt a strange affection for the familiar
|
|
microcomputers of his home. And wasn't virtual memory something that
|
|
you got from drinking too much Coke?
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
<< rest of empire strikes back, especially getting to the user haven, a
|
|
directory unconnected to /. >>
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
<< Return of the Jedi, if and when ... >>
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
The preceding was written by a number of people, working
|
|
piecemeal. Additions should be posted to the net. Here at
|
|
Case, we think the little inconsistancies just add a little
|
|
charm. Please note that the unsigned stuff enclosed in
|
|
<<...>>'s is by Barak Pearlmutter (thats me) while the stuff
|
|
enclosed in <<...>>'s signed " --Ed." is by ...!stolaf!borman.
|
|
|
|
May the Carrier be with you,
|
|
|
|
Barak Pearlmutter
|
|
decvax!cwruecmp!pearlmut
|
|
|
|
|
|
-------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
------- End of Forwarded Message
|