Read Online Suzie and the Monsters by Francis Franklin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Francis Franklin
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how it works here.’
‘I’m not supposed to talk about that stuff.’
‘I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble, but surely it won’t hurt to show me some basic stuff.’
‘I guess not,’ he says after a few seconds. He sits down at his computer and taps the keyboard to wake it up, and I see he’s using a Mac Pro although the two displays aren’t Apple displays. I have an iMac at home which I’ve got to know rather well over the past two years. I’m reminded of the time I made love to my Maths professor surrounded by whirring tape drives and a humming 7000 series IBM computer back in the sixties.
I pull up a chair, close so that Chris and I are almost touching. ‘Tell me about the cameras. Is everything recorded?’
‘Yes. We keep everything for seven days, then it gets run through a filter which deletes all the boring bits, and written to DVDs.’
‘Boring bits? Like a camera watching an empty room all day?’
‘Yes. It’s not always easy because light levels are changing all the time, and the position of the sun also, so the filters need to be quite intelligent. We also have filters that can cope with random movements caused by the wind. The important thing is to make sure that movements of people aren’t accidentally deleted.’
‘If someone wanted to destroy all camera recordings made tonight, could they do it?’
‘No.’
‘Could you do it?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘How?’
He thinks for a moment then opens a terminal window, establishes a secure shell connection to a remote computer, and lists the filesystems. ‘Each of these lines,’ he says, pointing, ‘is an external hard drive used for storing camera feeds. If you wiped these then it would destroy the recordings from tonight.’
‘That seems rather too easy. Isn’t there an off-site back-up?’
‘Yes. We synchronise twice a day, at six o’clock, morning and evening, with the servers downtown. So tonight’s recordings won’t be backed up yet, but if you wanted to destroy last night’s recordings you would need to access the back-up servers as well, which I can’t.’
‘But you can access the server here.’
‘Yes.’
‘Wouldn’t you need root access to do any real damage?’
‘Modern systems don’t have a root user, as such, but I’m an administrator so I can do what I like.’
I frown. ‘How does that work?’
He shows me, using the ‘sudo’ command to get a harmless listing of a hidden directory. He has to type his password to do this. If I’m lucky, and this has been a very lucky day for me, the system won’t ask for his password again for another five minutes.
I unbutton my shirt, revealing my naked breasts. ‘I told you I love computers,’ I say. ‘I’m getting seriously hot.’
He looks at me like a cornered mouse, and glances nervously over at the sleeping figure in the corner.
‘He won’t wake up if we’re quiet,’ I say. ‘Put your hands on my breasts, Christopher.’ When he still doesn’t move, I take his left hand and fold it around my right breast, and when I let go it stays there. I slide his thumb across my nipple, and sigh with pleasure. Chris moves his chair round a bit so that he’s facing me, and takes one of my breasts in each hand, playing with my nipples, which are getting very hard. ‘Look at me, Christopher. Yes, like that. Keep looking. I want you to concentrate on my breasts with your hands, their soft weight, the smooth skin, the sensation of my nipples brushing your fingertips, but keep your eyes, your beautiful eyes, looking deep, deep, into my eyes, yes. Nothing else matters, just my breasts, my perfect breasts, yours and yours alone, perfect... now, just relax, yes, sit back, close your eyes...’
He’s lost. I pull the keyboard over to me quickly and use sudo to start a shell with admin rights. A quick exploration confirms that the remote server is running Linux, although it’s some variant I’m not familiar with. It has been a few years since I was last
‘I’m not supposed to talk about that stuff.’
‘I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble, but surely it won’t hurt to show me some basic stuff.’
‘I guess not,’ he says after a few seconds. He sits down at his computer and taps the keyboard to wake it up, and I see he’s using a Mac Pro although the two displays aren’t Apple displays. I have an iMac at home which I’ve got to know rather well over the past two years. I’m reminded of the time I made love to my Maths professor surrounded by whirring tape drives and a humming 7000 series IBM computer back in the sixties.
I pull up a chair, close so that Chris and I are almost touching. ‘Tell me about the cameras. Is everything recorded?’
‘Yes. We keep everything for seven days, then it gets run through a filter which deletes all the boring bits, and written to DVDs.’
‘Boring bits? Like a camera watching an empty room all day?’
‘Yes. It’s not always easy because light levels are changing all the time, and the position of the sun also, so the filters need to be quite intelligent. We also have filters that can cope with random movements caused by the wind. The important thing is to make sure that movements of people aren’t accidentally deleted.’
‘If someone wanted to destroy all camera recordings made tonight, could they do it?’
‘No.’
‘Could you do it?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘How?’
He thinks for a moment then opens a terminal window, establishes a secure shell connection to a remote computer, and lists the filesystems. ‘Each of these lines,’ he says, pointing, ‘is an external hard drive used for storing camera feeds. If you wiped these then it would destroy the recordings from tonight.’
‘That seems rather too easy. Isn’t there an off-site back-up?’
‘Yes. We synchronise twice a day, at six o’clock, morning and evening, with the servers downtown. So tonight’s recordings won’t be backed up yet, but if you wanted to destroy last night’s recordings you would need to access the back-up servers as well, which I can’t.’
‘But you can access the server here.’
‘Yes.’
‘Wouldn’t you need root access to do any real damage?’
‘Modern systems don’t have a root user, as such, but I’m an administrator so I can do what I like.’
I frown. ‘How does that work?’
He shows me, using the ‘sudo’ command to get a harmless listing of a hidden directory. He has to type his password to do this. If I’m lucky, and this has been a very lucky day for me, the system won’t ask for his password again for another five minutes.
I unbutton my shirt, revealing my naked breasts. ‘I told you I love computers,’ I say. ‘I’m getting seriously hot.’
He looks at me like a cornered mouse, and glances nervously over at the sleeping figure in the corner.
‘He won’t wake up if we’re quiet,’ I say. ‘Put your hands on my breasts, Christopher.’ When he still doesn’t move, I take his left hand and fold it around my right breast, and when I let go it stays there. I slide his thumb across my nipple, and sigh with pleasure. Chris moves his chair round a bit so that he’s facing me, and takes one of my breasts in each hand, playing with my nipples, which are getting very hard. ‘Look at me, Christopher. Yes, like that. Keep looking. I want you to concentrate on my breasts with your hands, their soft weight, the smooth skin, the sensation of my nipples brushing your fingertips, but keep your eyes, your beautiful eyes, looking deep, deep, into my eyes, yes. Nothing else matters, just my breasts, my perfect breasts, yours and yours alone, perfect... now, just relax, yes, sit back, close your eyes...’
He’s lost. I pull the keyboard over to me quickly and use sudo to start a shell with admin rights. A quick exploration confirms that the remote server is running Linux, although it’s some variant I’m not familiar with. It has been a few years since I was last
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