Read Online Sex and Murder.com: A Paul Turner Mystery by Mark Richard Zubro - Free Book Online Page B

Essentially computers are still just a series of on and off switches. Today they just go faster than anybody ever dreamed of. An infinitely fast calculator does not add up to intelligence.”
    “You a Luddite?” Fenwick asked.
    “Skeptical is all,” Micetic responded. “It’s easy to oversell what computers are going to be able to do. Instead of looking through a catalogue that comes in the mail or running to the mall, you make some clicks and buy stuff. You may have convenience, but I’m not sure you’ve got a revolution. You can talk about vast technology, but if you’ve got machines that wear out in less time than an average car lasts, I’m not sure you’ve got much.”
    Turner thought he might like the guy. He peered over Micetic’s shoulder at the screen. It was filled with calculations that made no sense to him.
    “What is all that?” Turner asked.
    “Formulas. I recognized some of the basic ones. These guys were far ahead of me. I don’t pretend to understand all this stuff, and I’ve got three different computer degrees. I’ve got an IBM AS400 at home, which I think is the best computer on the market. This stuff makes that look like an abacus.”
    “What’s so important about working on artificial intelligence?” Fenwick asked.
    “It’s cutting edge. They would have rivals. That kind of project would be ripe for industrial sabotage, international intrigue, double dealing, anything. The closer computers get to what they call artificial intelligence, the more efficient they would be. Build the better mouse trap, etcetera.”
    “Which companies would be interested?” Turner asked.
    “All of them.”
    “That’s not helpful,” Fenwick said.
    “It’s the truth.”
    “We’ll have to talk to their business rivals,” Fenwick said.
    “Many of them will be out of state,” Micetic said.
    “I think I knew that,” Turner said. He assayed their work so far. “Are you almost done with what’s on the computer?”
    “I have to get into its innards to try and discover any hidden programs.”
    “If he hid them, how will you find them?” Turner asked.
    “I’ve had a lot of training. I’ll look very carefully. The guy was a computer genius. So far I’ve beaten all his codes and tricks, but they were fairly simple. There are more, I don’t know how many. I cannot guarantee omniscience. I can guarantee I’ll do a better job than anybody else you could possibly hire.”
    “I like confidence,” Fenwick said.
    Micetic said, “You’re going to have to get Werberg in here with me to go over some of these.”
    “Probably tomorrow,” Turner said.
    “Whenever,” the kid replied. He pointed to the screen. “This next bit is the only thing I haven’t been able to crack yet.”
    Turner and Fenwick gazed at the monitor. “It’s gibberish,” Fenwick said.
    “Precisely,” Micetic said. “It is also very organized gibberish.”
    “It’s a code,” Turner said.
    “Encryption, yep,” Micetic said.
    “I’m old fashioned,” Fenwick said, “to me it’s a secret code.”
    “Can you break it?” Turner asked.
    “I’ve tried a few simple things, but I’d need an encryption breaking program from my office. I should be able to.”
    “Print us a copy of that,” Turner said. “We can add it to the inventory.”
    Fenwick asked, “Why isn’t there an address book anywhere?”
    Micetic said, “They don’t have address books anymore. They have Palm Pilots.”
    Fenwick gave him a quizzical look.
    Micetic said, “Those hand held computers that you write on?”
    “Whatever the hell you call it, where is it?”
    “I have no idea. It’s a physical object that you would need to look for, not me.”
    For the next half hour, Fenwick’s impatience grew. Finally, he threw down his pen and said, “Let’s leave this until the morning. It’s nearly five. We can get back to the station, suck up to as many superiors as we need to, and go home.”
    Micetic promised to keep trying to uncover any