“Yes, there’s been some of that.”
“It’s primarily a group of teenage script kiddies who get off on the anonymity and from feeling as if they’re part of something bigger than themselves. Even the adults associated with Anonymous are hardly grown-ups. Just look at how they pick targets and how foolish some of their so-called attacks are.”
“I concede all of that but without groups like Anonymous, without hacktivism, the trend on the Internet is toward some form of Big Brother; if not by the United States government, then by some international regulatory body that will have control of all the vital choke points. Surely you can see that?”
“No, I don’t,” Jeff said. “Computers and the Internet are evolving so rapidly and new technology is so often taking center stage that it’s beyond central control. The danger we face is from groups like Anonymous as they develop the ability to take down the Internet presence of any company or organization with which they disagree, as they access private records and make them public. Security is essential for the Internet to grow and all hacktivism is a threat to that.”
“Mind if I join you?”
Jeff looked up and saw it was Ritter. He moved over to make room. “We were just discussing hacktivism.”
Ritter had a double of amber liquid in his glass. He took a long pull, then said, “I was surprised to hear your views on the panel, Chuck. I’ve always taken you to be more responsible than that.” He ran a bare hand across his nearly bald head.
The two men had never much cared for one another and Jeff feared this could turn ugly.
“I think I’m taking the responsible position,” Chuck answered. “Someone has to keep everyone out there honest, you know? You can’t trust governments or Fortune 500 companies to do it. If they had their way you’d have to clear your Internet presence through a layer of bureaucracy, at great expense, and then be subject to arbitrary control by outsiders. We need to keep the Internet open, not threatened by governments.”
“And what about this threat from Anonymous against RegSec?” Ritter asked. “Surely you don’t support them there?”
Chuck gritted his teeth before answering. “What RegSec did was immoral. It helped destroy the financial lives of tens of thousands of innocent people. And why? To increase its unseemly profits. The company even took bailout money! As if they needed it, you know? Then did you read what Hinton did after the court verdict? It was like spitting in everyone’s face. And he publicly called out Anonymous. How stupid can you be? No, I have to say in this case I’m in agreement with Anonymous. Someone has to do something about RegSec. The government and courts won’t.”
“The government tried,” Jeff suggested.
“My point exactly,” Chuck said. “They tried. But companies like RegSec are above the law, you know? They pay Congress to make sure of that. The little people, we average people, get the shaft.”
Before Ritter could answer, Jeff tried changing the subject. “What have you been working on, Dillon?” He immediately regretted the question.
“We’re downsizing.” Ritter finished his drink, then waved at the waiter for a refill.
“They’re outsourcing any new work to avoid permanent hires. Congress is spending money like a drunken sailor but somehow the people I work for have managed to get none of it.”
“You’re still working, though?” Chuck asked, sounding concerned. No one liked a colleague finding himself out of work, not in this economy. They might be specialized in a growing field but hard landings were all too common.
“Me? Sure.” From a CTI colleague the previous month Jeff had heard that Ritter had failed to keep up with the latest technology. This coupled with his age would make him an unattractive hire. “I guess you two heard about my divorce? Well, it caught me by surprise. I had no idea….” His voice trailed off. “At least haven’t been laid off.” He looked directly across the table at Chuck when he said that.
Chuck took it personally. “I wasn’t laid off or let go or whatever you want to call it,” he said. “I’d had enough, you know? Tell him, Jeff. You know what the Company was like then, what it’s still like. The bureaucracy is stifling, there’s no appreciation of innovation, an utter lack of foresight, and getting ahead in your career is the number one concern the moment you reach management. I knew 9/11 was coming, so did Jeff, so did a lot of us, but no one listened. Absolutely no one!”
“Sorry if I touched a nerve,” Ritter said, holding up a defensive hand.
“I won’t pretend they weren’t happy to see me out the door, you know? But every day I’m out of it, I’m grateful. I haven’t attended a meeting since then. I don’t have bosses. Sure, being on my own has been tough, I’ll admit. I think I’ve been blackballed from my contacts. But there’s plenty of work out there if you want it. What I want, what I really want, is to see some justice at the CIA. Heads should have rolled over their incompetence. Instead, the good guys were shown the door, or went of their own accord when they saw the writing on the wall, you know?”
Ritter’s drink arrived. Both Jeff and Chuck shook off another. Ritter turned to Jeff. “How about you? Going to tell us how you saved the world?” That last part came out sounding a bit aggressive and jealous, Jeff thought.
“Nothing like that. Listen, Dillon, I’m hungry and need to get going. I’ve got work to do yet tonight so let’s have dinner here. Care to join us, Chuck?”
Chuck shook his head as he slid out of the booth and straightened up. “No. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeff,” he said pointedly, and stomped off.
Ritter stared after him with a smirk. “Something I said?”
Dinner was typical hotel fare. As they ate, Ritter said, “I was surprised to hear just how bitter and disillusioned Chuck has become. He didn’t used to be that way.”
“He got a raw deal,” Jeff said. “He was one of the Company’s shining stars and his boss was jealous, did everything he could to push him down, shove him out the door. And he is right: no one listened when he tried to warn them about 9/11.”
Jeff changed the subject and asked more about Ritter, who said he was working on counter measures for a U.S. military project. It was winding down, however, and he wasn’t certain what he’d be doing in a few months. He made light of it though. “They’ll find something for me, they always do.” He sighed, then looked at Jeff pointedly. “Not that I wouldn’t be interested in something else if it was offered.”
Jeff didn’t take the bait. Neither he nor Daryl was looking to hire anyone and if they were, Ritter didn’t have the skill set their work required. He turned to his meal without comment.
A minute later Ritter’s cell phone rang. He looked at the screen and excused himself to take the call. He returned a moment later. “I’m really sorry, but something’s come up and I’ve got to run. This should cover my half,” he said as he dropped a couple of twenty-dollar bills on the table.
“Okay, no problem,” Jeff said. Ritter hurried out. When Jeff finished he paid the check and though he wanted to leave right away, he was pulled into a gathering of young Turks in the industry. They wanted to discuss his talk in more detail and it was half an hour before he could politely extricate himself. It was nearly ten o’clock when he finally stepped outside. He wanted to spend an hour on the RegSec project before going to bed, to double-check and see if he subconsciously hadn’t come up with something else he needed to address.
Outside, away from the background buzz of the convention, Jeff breathed in the cold, damp sea air that was drifting in from off the Pacific. He reminded himself to be certain he spent a few hours at Mission Beach before leaving, though he’d prefer to have done that with Daryl. It didn’t seem they spent that much time together even though they were technically living and working out of the same Georgetown house. One or both of them was nearly always out of town.