82 lines
4.3 KiB
Plaintext
82 lines
4.3 KiB
Plaintext
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The lurker in the inter-record gap
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The occasional visitor to Miskatonic University's
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Information Science Department can hardly help but remark on
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the contrast between the lowering, inbred looks of the head
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porter, as he unloads the visitor's portmanteaux from the
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railroad station, and the comparatively frank and open
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expression of your average Yankee university student.
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Certainly Edwin, returning to the involuted and
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claustrophobic region of his upbringing in the belief that
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the creatures of the deep were quiescent again, suspected
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that the man who carried his disk packs was one of his
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Arkham half brothers, possibly a three-quaters brother.
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"Did they seal up the window in the granite tower above
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Arkham?" he asked by way of experiment. As a consequence of
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the man's multiple speach defects, the answer was
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unintelligible, but Edwin caught the sense from the livid
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patches that sprang up on the fellow's forehead and from his
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letting fall six volumes of operating manuals. Clearer than
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words came the message that one could still--if imprudent
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enough--look out the window that faced no point of the
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compass, and that certain things could still look in.
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Medlers might still give Cthulhu and the Old Ones their
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opportunity.
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In contrast, Dr. James Pendline was like a breath of
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fresh air when Edwin sat down with him to plan how they
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would generate the new operating system on the Miskatonic
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computer. Young, hair trimmed in the en brosse style
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affected by New York academics, he stuck but one faint,
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discordant note: His tie-tack was fashioned into a shape
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familiar to those who have studied the abominable writings
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of the satanic Arab, el Oufkr aft.
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The main problem was to get rid of the old Arkham
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monitor, Reptilian 13. Into the dusk they worked, poring
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over the vellum sheets.
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Once a student came in to report slimy things creeping
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out of the multiplex channel. James Pendine looked at him
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levelly. "Did you invoke a recursive procedure?" He at last
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admitted it, was given a temporary fix, and sent away.
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They went into the computer room just after midnight.
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Little by little they cut away parts of the Arkham monitor,
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trying to leave only an amount sufficient for the reading in
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of the clean new code. Edwin heard a muted scream as the
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job scheduler went. There were toads everywhere.
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Grim-faced they continued.
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At two o'clock the telephone rang.
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"That's project MAC" said James Pendine. "We let them
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hook into our processor when theirs is down for
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maintenance." The telephone stopped ringing and a light came
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on to show that the line had been connected automatically
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to the computer.
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Edwin shrieked and pulled the cable, fizzing and
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sparking, out of the communications front-end. Pendine had
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not moved.
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"Pray Heaven I was quick enough," said Edwin. "Why had
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you not disconnected that telephone?" Pendine smiled. "You
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are fearful that somehow the remnants of the Reptilian might
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have fled down the line to Massachusetts?"
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"I hardly know what I feared," answered Edwin, and he
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began loading the disks and tapes and cards that would make
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the Miskatonic computer a healthy thing again.
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Rosy-fingered Dawn broke, cloudless, serene. The
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computer was compileing Algol, working much more slowly
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than it used to under the old monitor, but at least there
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were no more toads. Edwin and Pendine had some kidneys
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brought in on a salver for breakfast.
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Across the dewy campus lawn the porter was seen
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approaching. Absently Edwin noticed he left the prints of
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three feet behind him. He proffered a telegram.
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TO PENDINE MISKATONIC STOP SINCE CONNECTION YOUR CPU LAST
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NIGHT OUR GRAPH PLOTTER WONT DRAW PENTACLES STOP ALSO TOADS
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EVERYWHERE STOP HOWEVER WELL WORTH IT STOP EXECUTION SPEEDS
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MUCH IMPROVED STOP THANKS MIT ENDS
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As is the case with many telegrams, the text was
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followed by a few meaningless characters--random ripples on
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Mr. Bell's fluid that appended themselves as parasites to
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the real symbols of human intercourse. For the sake of this
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narrative's completeness they are given below:
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CTHULU...CTHULHU...HAHA...CTHULHU.....
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