From: "XF Sneakers" Date: Thu, 18 Apr 2002 22:11:36 -0700 Subject: Computer Science XOX (1/1) by sneakers Source: direct Reply To: xf_sneakers@mailcity.com TITLE: Computer Science XOX AUTHOR: sneakers RATING: G CLASSIFICATION: XH SPOILERS: none KEYWORDS: AU, sort of SUMMARY: Trapped in a science lab, a student and X-Phile contemplates the connection between computers and the consortium. This is set in an alternate universe to the TV show: our real world, the one where Mulder and Scully don't exist. It's also set about five years ago, so don't laugh at the technical details. Okay, laugh all you want, but not at me. (-: Mulder and Scully and all their cohorts belong to 1013. No copyright infringement intended, and, anyway . . . I don't have any money you could sue me for. Archive anywhere just let me know and leave my name attached. Feedback welcome to xf_sneakers@mailcity.com COMPUTER SCIENCE - X0X by sneakers xf_sneakers@mailcity.com Lina Emler stared at the blank page. Professor Boehme's words echoed in her head. "If you can't do anything, do what you can, and work from there." No one ever said you had to make sense to be a teacher . . . Well, libraries were a good place to start. #include #include #include . . . #xf-romantics. #include She grinned into the blue light of the computer screen, recalling a near-disastrous incident involving an associate professor of biology, a stray copy of mIRC, and a state-of-the-art Win95 Pentium that was supposed to be used solely for biology. He was young and idealistic, the ink barely dry on his doctorate, and had not taken well to having the ethics of his research machine "irreversibly compromised and violated". His terms, not hers. So she'd learned to be furtive, telnetting through strings of machines belonging to anything that sounded academic; public and university libraries, a MUD with 'biotek' in its address, even back to the university's own computer system. A this rate, she thought, I'll be a Lone Gunman by the time I graduate. The idea was appealing. . . . She'd just pulled a long shift of listening to bootlegged wiretaps; the secrets contained therein were fascinating, but she was ready to take a break. She had messily stuffed the tapes into a drawer and slouched down in her desk chair when the door burst open and Fox Mulder rushed inside. "Lina!" he cried. "I've been looking for you guys all over! Where's Frohike? Where's Byers? Where's Langley?" She shrugged. "No time to look for them! I've found Samantha and I need someone to cover me while I get her out, okay? They're holding her in . . . . . . . . in the box that appears when you select 'libraries', pick the 'set location' button." Professor Boehme grabbed someone's umbrella to point at the projected screen. "Then chose the 'CS 201' folder; they should be in there." Lina slid down in her chair, out of view of classmates and anyone else watching. Life and libraries. Libraries and life. She fixed her set-up, wondering why they hadn't set the right location in the first place. Nah, she thought, that would make too much sense. Too logical. Almost, well . . . boolean. Too bad real life didn't follow boolean logic . . . if ((mulder != lovescully) && (scully != lovemulder)) { fall_in_love(mulder, scully); noromos.shut_up(); happily_ever.after(); } And just how many errors would the compiler give *that* one? She sighed, highlighted the pseudocode, jabbed at the delete key, and went back to the cin and cout. Ten minutes later, she was stuck again, unable to find the problem that tripped up the whole program -- one problem -- and about sixth in line for help. So much for finishing during lab. She turned the volume knob on the walkman up higher and opened Telnet. Or, rather, tried to open Telnet. Wouldn't open. Wouldn't open. Probably a conspiracy. She tried Control-Alt-Delete. Nothing happened. Definitely a conspiracy. What she wouldn't give for a DOS or Unix prompt and an error message. Dang Windows, never let you know what it was thinking. *Most* definitely the work of the consortium. Why'd the ideas for fanfic always have to come at bad times? She managed to close the non-responsive Telnet and open up some random text editor, the words running through her head faster than her fingers could put them to disk. . . . . . he sat in a Redmond, Washington office complex, scrutinizing the work of a bespectacled geek seated in front of a computer. "Your realize, Mr. Gates," he said, puffing on the glowing stick of tobacco, "that this is a matter of national importance. Your earlier operating system -- MS-DOS, I believe it was -- was brilliant, at the time. A way to control output on every computer in the world. But people *knew* they were being manipulated, and they splintered off, so you came up with a system that is more, as they say, user-friendly. But, Mr. Gates, the extremely smart still saw through it. This 'Windows 95' must not be another fiasco, Mr. Gates, and there are many out there that will snatch up this contract if you fail. But we have lost enough time now, and I fear I have no choice but to trust you. It needs to control *all* aspects off the operation, yet present a facade that the average and above average user cannot -- must not -- see through. Is that perfectly clear?" Without a word, he exited the office in a swirl of carcinogenic smoke . .. . . "Smoke?" Lina squished her eyes shut as a substitute for whacking herself on the forehead, which would have been a little too obvious. "E-mail, Professor Boehme," she replied, tilting her chair forward in a move, perfected with many uses, that effectively blocked all views of the screen, scrambled around with the mouse until Borlan was on top again, then leaned back with a thud. "I have no illusions, Miss Emler," he said, taking the mouse and scrolling up through her program. "*What*?" That sounded like such a . . . a Cancerman sort of thing to say. Her professors were working for the consortium now, too? He sighed. "No illusions about what you were doing there. All students do it, working on other things during lab. Can't stop it. What's wrong with your program?" "It won't work." He neared the top and found the problem in five seconds. Forgot to label the member functions as public. Of course. She laughed and typed in the missing line where he inserted the cursor. He kept moving the mouse up . . . and that was when she remembered the library headers. #include Professor Boehme took one look at it and went on to the next student with a backwards glance at Lina. "I don't want to know." THE END Note: This story is a sequel of sorts to "What Does 'X' Equal?" and "Control-X", both available at Gossamer. If you've made it this far, you may enjoy them.