The Mutable World by Tyler Biswurm
Chapter 11
My earbuds began blasting Crying Nut before I hurriedly ripped them out for fear of bursting my ear drums. That was loud. I must have forgotten to adjust the volume last night. A minor oversight, to be sure, but if something akin to that were to happen with the networking equipment during the attack, disaster would not linger in the distance for much longer. I slowly rolled out from under the covers, and hung my legs over the lip of the mattress. I exhaled deeply and began the inevitable mental preparation that prefaces all important undertakings.
Eun Seo and Jun Soo were asleep. I committed myself to silence, and accordingly tread to the door and gently turned the lock. The deadbolt set itself with a blunt thud, and I subsequently cringed, wary of the possibility of Eun Seo’s interference in today’s endeavor. Neither stirred from their sleep, and I quietly booted my computer. The clock read 3:00. I logged into the forums and verified the status of the PC rooms. All but two of them had sent messages of confirmation. Some of the owners had protested yesterday after learning that we would be conducting the operation so early in the morning, which is quite ridiculous, seeing as they are open 24 hours a day anyway. They quickly retracted their respective complaints upon my reference to this fact, as well as my reminder of the sums they were being compensated with. People always want more. I promptly notified them to begin preparations, and began doing so as well.
I compiled my botnet’s DDOS script, and launched my VNC software. I launched the VPN servers and made sure my own computer was routed through one as well. The mainframe virus had been configured to configure a connection via the VNC protocol at 5:00 this morning. Preparations must be completed before that time.
It was 4:50. All PC rooms had reported in, and were connected to the VPN servers. The majority of my botnet was nearing preparation completions, as I readied the DDOS script. As soon as the mainframe computer virus sent the VNC request, I would initiate the overvoltage and follow it immediately with the DDOS attack. Everything was ready, and all that remained was to wait.
I started to cry. I haven’t cried in years. Was I doing the right thing? Were things really as bad as they seemed? I couldn’t answer these questions anymore. Why were these doubts so suddenly vivid? I had been so sure of my decision. It was justice. It was the right thing to do. But I was not so sure anymore. Father told me that I shouldn’t give up, and I wasn’t, yet something nagged at me. It gnawed on the vulnerable edges of my resolve. What could it possibly be? There could be no conceivable reason to prevent what I was doing. I was changing the world for the better. The world is so cruel to its people. So cruel to the youth. So cruel to me.
I hurriedly composed myself. The VNC request was two minutes away. It was too late to change my mind. This was meant to happen, and it would happen. I waited. The request came. I initiated the VNC connection and immediately explored the mainframe’s control settings. The plant was using a basic flavor of Linux to run their software. I immediately disabled all access from peripherals, shutting out all physical intervention from plant staff. I promptly found the voltage controls, which I edited to values tenfold their original settings. The process had begun. I initiated the DDOS script for my botnet and cued the PC rooms to begin their network requests as well. Within 10 seconds, the mainframe began displaying network errors, as all network connections were overloaded. I watched as the mainframe’s status monitor indicated mounting damage to the plant’s transformer modules. At this point, nothing could stop my progress short of pulling the plug. They won’t be fast enough.
And they weren’t. 60 Seconds later, my computer shut down. Darkness rolled across the city blocks outside my window. The city had been extinguished, the fire quelled. I could see the stars. There were so many of them. It was uplifting, and it was beautiful, and it was change.
A small sliver of orange appeared above the skyline. The sun was rising, casting its familiar glow upon the vast expanse above it. The clouds gently lazed by it, veiling the now dimmed stars behind their wet fluff. I know what bothered me earlier. I realized the implications of what I was doing, what it meant for me. What it meant for others. I was, in the most truthful meaning of the phrase, changing the world. I had been in emotional limbo, and my body couldn’t handle it. So I cried. What I had done—it wasn’t wrong. And it wasn’t right. I gave the world a polite tap on the shoulder after it fell asleep in the waiting room. The doctor was ready for it. Now, all it needed to do was take the right path, to make the right choice. Except, there is no right choice. Who am I to define what is right and what is wrong? Who is anyone to tell another person what to believe? Father was wrong. Idle patience cannot serve a meaningful purpose beyond prevention of inflammatory action. It cannot achieve what is necessary to shape the world into an ideal. In its place, we must act with selfless impatience. In the end, it does not matter who is who, or what happened when. Thousands or even millions of years from now, what memories of us remain will be of our society and our civilization. Progress can only be achieved through action. So help someone, and build your legacy together.
It was still early, yet I was exhausted. I climbed back beneath the covers and drifted to sleep once more. I woke an hour and a half later. I unlocked my door, traversed the length of the hallway and stepped into the kitchen. Searching the cupboards, I found a package of bread and a jar of jam. I made two sandwiches, arranged them on a plate and seated myself at the dining table. I stood up to open the window, and switched the radio on as well. Scanning the AM frequencies, a faint signal could be heard. I amped up the volume. It was a station in Jeju Island. That’s right, Jeju has its own power grid. No matter. At the moment, people were discussing the power blackout. I sat down and took the first bite. I could hear Eun Seo and her husband beginning to stir in their room. They were talking about the disruption of the Suneung now, how it must have been terrorists. Then they started talking about the lack of a response from the government. I continued eating. It sounds like a guest is coming on to the show. I watched Seoul through the kitchen window. I could hear yelling and shouting outside. Smoke was billowing in the distance. A police car drove past. The guest was saying something.
“What are the youth doing?”
“This is ridiculous.”
###
Thanks for reading my book! If you enjoyed, why don’t you leave a review at your choice retailer? Tell your friends too! This book was written for you guys, not to make money.
Thanks!
Tyler Biswurm
About the Author
Over the course of his fifteen years of life, Tyler has lived in four different countries. Fluent in English and German, Tyler now lives in Seoul, Republic of Korea. Tyler has a great love for writing and making “generally cool” things, and is currently preoccupied with translating those interests into university study.
Connect with the Author
Are you interested in speaking to me about something, or checking out my other work? Feel free to drop me a line.
Email me: [email protected]
Read my blog: https://feralwit.com