The Importance of Being Fed Vignette/Humor from the AD Scully Universe By drovar Spender straightened his Potomac Puma's baseball cap and surveyed the room as inconspicuously as he could. The exhibit hall throbbed with activity of every discernable type. On a huge stage, backed by thudding rock music, a hacker (was that even the right word anymore?) was demonstrating something with the ominous and improbable name of Back Orifice 2000. An enormous crowd sat in rapt attention as the young man put the program through its paces. From what little he could fathom Spender could tell that it was invasive, brilliant and very much a threat to security. This sort of fact explained his presence here and that of every other slightly up-tight, near-to-past-30, Fed. Agents from the FBI, NSA, even the ATF, were milling about awkwardly, looking decidedly out of place in jeans and T-shirts instead of their usual somber authoritarian suits. He turned quickly, showing particular interest in a T-shirt depicting Bill Gates as a comic Satan with crudely drawn horns and a goatee, when a young man carrying some elaborate version of a palm pilot eyed him suspiciously. The teenager moved on as Spender began sorting through the shirts and checking size tags. When the vendor began to show undo interest Spender set the shirts back carefully and moved on. His target was closer but still not within reach. If he moved fast, he might make it across the hall without being spotted, he just might. He realized that his hands were clinched on the edge of the table, and forced himself to relax, taking a deep breath, and releasing his death grip. One step at a time, it was simple, really, smooth and easy, one foot in front of the other. He moved along the booths, past piles of arcane equipment festooned with all sorts of wires, buttons and switches. The lone gunmen would feel right at home here, hell, they probably *were* here, somewhere, hidden in some back room, making secret deals and veiled alliances. He skirted a sizeable group arguing boisterously about the merits of broadband versus ISDN versus DSL - apparently modems were passe with this group. He adjusted his cap and turned toward the stage when two of the techies glanced suspiciously in his direction. The hacker was going into great depth about the benefits of personal system security. Spender paused to listen, interested for a moment, as the speaker dismissed the effectiveness of 64-bit encryption. Spender felt a moment of apprehension about the encryption of certain files on his own hard drive and decided that he'd take another look when he got back to the office. He risked a glance around as he reached the end of the dealer's area, just past the speaker's platform. His target was ahead, damn close now, no more than a dozen steps. He stooped down for a moment, retying his sneaker and hazarding a second longer look. No one appeared to be paying attention; everyone nearby seemed to be focused on other things. Now was his chance. There was a short gap between the dealer's area and his target that would leave him fully exposed to all spectators, for a few seconds. He'd have to risk it, he didn't have time to retrace his steps, not now, he was too close to his goal. He was up and moving quickly. He mentally clicked off each step, trying not to be rigid, trying to assume the casual slump of most of the conferences attendees. When he was no more than a few hands' breadth from his target, a sudden and glaring ring cut through his concentration. Without thought he yanked the cell phone from his belt. "Spender" A sinking feeling overwhelmed him even as he suddenly realized who was on the other end. He had answered his cell phone. "Jeffrey, you are *such* a suit," came the slightly mocking feminine voice from the other end of the line. "Fed, Fed, Fed!" he heard close to his right. Spender sighed and looked up to see a teenager in a faded Pearl Jam T-shirt waving, pointing and calling someone over. In a matter of moments a man carrying an armload of black T-shirts appeared. He took one look at Spender, shook his head and handed the Pearl Jam fan a T- shirt that read "I Spotted the Fed!". He handed Spender a second shirt that said, "I Am the Fed!" Spender slung the shirt over his shoulder and returned to his cell phone, sourly noting the Pearl Jam guy high-fiving with his friends. "Thanks," he said. Hoping his voice dripped with all the sarcasm he could muster. He resisted the impulse to toss in a Homer Simpsonish *doh*. "Don't pout Jeffery," Scully said, her voice reaching that certain dulcet tone that always made his pulse quicken. "Now bring me the shirt, and don't forget -- two hot dogs, ketchup, no relish." "Right," he replied and snapped the phone shut, stepping up to his target at last. Spender raised two fingers to the hot dog vendor and began to place his order. Oh well, the T-shirt was pretty cool. [end] Author's note: This is based on a real convention of hackers, held in Las Vegas, called Def Con. Playing 'Spot the Fed' is a popular pastime and the shirts are real. --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- ONElist members are using Shared Files in great ways! http://www.onelist.com Are you? If not, see our homepage for details. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ All Spenderfic is good Spenderfic. Visit The Ferret Cage for more Spenderfic. http://www.parkers-place.net/ferretcage/