Genie
Hey! My name's Jim: James Cameron Reinhart. I was named after my mom's dad since my older brother got Grandpa Reinhart's name: Alexander Maxamillion Reinhart the Third. Man! Am I glad I came later! It fits him though, at least when he's being professorial (or what Dad calls "pontifical"). But around the house we just call him "Tad;" seems that when he was a baby, Dad was on a POGO kickyou know, POGO, the comic strip about some animals that live in a swamp. All BABY animals in POGO are called "tads." So Dad's BABY got called "Tad" (I love to remind Tad of this story.) So, there he is. . ."Tad." Like I said, I'm sure glad I came later.
He, my brother that is, teaches my least favorite subject, English: books and stuff-- at some small community college. I do have'ta admit though, as you're going to see, books can come in handy. Personally, I like computers and planes. Someday I'd like to fly in the Navy just like my Dad, and this year I'm going to college to study computer science.
I've been into computers since I was twelve. For a while we had an Atari computer game system, and I'd spend so much time in front of the screen my eyes would water. I got so I could beat anybody in the house. Then the wimps wouldn't play me anymore. Tad said something about not really minding the beatings; it was being grounded into subatomic particles that bothered him. OK, so I did beat him at Asteroids 75300032 to 6 once. All he and the rest of the family had to do was practice a little.
Then Mom and Dad got me a Tandy Color Computer. Man! I had the greatest time. Wrote my own program with exploding starships and stuff. Hey, I know it's not much, especially with the compatibles that are out today, but it was my Tandy that really got me into serious computing and got me and Tad into serious trouble.
I started taking computer classes at school to help me in my programming. Well, it was the only class that I really did good in. Mr. Sultan, my teacher, said that I showed "great promise." I began spending all of my free periods in the computer lab, either working on my own projects or just helping clean up the mess the other kids made. I just liked being around the computers. With all those keyboards and glowing screens, the flashing lights and the hum of electric motors, the place looked like some control center out of Star Wars. It made me feel good since I understood what those screens said and what those lights meant, and other people didn't. It made me feel like I was someone special, like I was part of the future. I just liked being around computers.
It finally got to the point that I was there so much that Mr. Sultan gave me a key to the lab with the idea that I could open the place up and keep it in shape. If you have ever been around computers or own one, you know the tons of paper that get used and the piles of junk mail that come from distributors trying to sell you some computer product. A school's computer lab is even worse. Mr. Sultan kept a drum in the lab for the trash paper left over by the classes, as well as for all the catalogues. flyers, and samples that poured in through the mail each week. The computer classes in our school are large, and Mr. Sultan seemed to be always up to his nose in work. Also, since most of the budget had already been used for that year, he didn't feel like he had time to go through each offer and sample program sent to him. So he gave me the job of sifting through that stuff, said he would trust my judgment if something looked good for the school, that, meanwhile, I should toss all junk, and (while making a little money) that I could keep any sample program I thought looked interesting. Of course he arranged it that way, but the last part of his offer was the clincher. Some mighty interesting things came through the mail. Besides, Mom and Dad were getting on my case that I should get out and find some work to make my own spending money. I took the job.
A few weeks later I began to suspect that I might've made a mistake. Even though I had haunted the place I had no idea how much junk came to Sultan's lab. One day I'd be sitting at this table with yesterday's mail in piles of envelopes and catalogues on either side of me like dunes in a desert with me carefully sifting through them, when in would walk some dumb janitor with another sack of mail and dump it in front of my nose. I began to feel sort of like Gilligan on his island, hoping for something to be tossed up by that huge sea of junk mail. And there wasn't very much, just junk: junk, junk, and more junk!
One afternoon it had pretty much gotten to the point where I was taking piles of papers and dumping them into the drums. I mean, who was going to know anyway? When out of an armload of papers drops this brown, square, floppy disc-shaped envelope onto the floor. I dumped the load into the drum and picked up the envelope. "Free Sample," it said in red letters. "Genie: Greatest Utilities program ever designed. Compatible with all IBM, Apple, and Tandy systems."
"That's impossible," I thought. "Nothing is that versatile." I collapse into my chair beside the pile of mail and carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a floppy disk with a gold label and red border which said in red letters written in a sort of Arabian kind of style "GENIE."
The instructions were on a separate piece of paper trimmed with red and gold but weren't what you would call overly informative:
"Genie"
To
Whomever This Comes:
Greetings oh most fortunate one! You hold in your hands the most powerful utilities program ever sealed within the confines of a disk. It has been designed for optimal user friendly communications and will query, respond, and answer in standard English. It will conform to any PC system that uses a floppy disk, although in some cases a modem may be needed. Further instructions will appear on screen when program is booted up. Send no money since at this time I don't need any. Lo! I have cast this into the mail to see where Providence takes it. Use your chance wisely.
Go with God:
Rex Solomon Ph.D.
" Warning "
Although it is possible to use this program on any PC system, this disk is strictly copyrighted. Make no attempt to duplicate disk. Dr. Solomon denies any responsibility for damage caused to the software or unit if this is attempted.
R.S.
"All right!" I was so pleased I said it out load. This was exactly what I had been sifting for, a free sample mystery program. The piles could wait; I'd get to them in an hour or so. Right now I had to try this program. Into the nearest Apple it went. With a flick of the back switch, the screen flashed on, the motor whirled itself up to speed, and the disk drive made that comfortable grunt and grumble that a computer makes when it has accepted and is digesting a program.
There was a "Bleep!" and then some really neat graphics in which the name "Genie" seemed to form on the screen out of a cloud of smoke while the computer made the sound you sort of imagine a flying saucer making when it takes off. I was psyched!
Then there came a second "Bleep!" the disk drive whirled again, and the screen went blank except for a single phrase:
Insufficient Memory in computer
"Aw Nuts!" I slapped the side of the monitor screen like you might slap the side of some geeky freshman's head-not too hard, just enough to let'em know you’re disgusted. But then the disk drive whirled again, and up came a new phrase:
Request Modem linkup/ Strike any key when ready.
Of course the modem! Shoot! Wouldn't you know the computer I was using didn't have a modem link up? But I knew where I could find one: Mr. Sultan's office. I shut down the machine and almost killed myself jumping across a set of tables. Luckily Mr. Sultan had left me with a key, so I could answer the phone in emergencies. It was only after I had put the key into the lock that I felt that knot in my stomach that warns me when I am doing something "not too smart" (The last time I felt it was when Manny asked me to go for a ride in his car-from which he had removed the front two doors 'cause it looked kind'a like a jeep--and we tore around the corner only to meet Dad coming the other way). I stood in front of Mr. Sultan's office and sort of danced as I thought it over. I've got a modem in my Tandy set up in my bedroom; I could wait until I got home. Um. . .I'm afraid I've never been too good at waiting, so I turned the key and went in.
In no time I had Mr. Sultan's Apple 2e humming, had called up Genie again, and was staring once more at those words:
Request Modem linkup/ Strike any key when ready.
With a punch of my finger I sent the disk drive spinning. Then more words began to appear on the screen, flashing for a second and then gone. There were a lot that I don't remember, but I know that some were like this:
Systems scan: AT&T:
Local listings of modem users:
7846521
7847813
7850001 <Industrial User>
745-1121
Dialing: 7850001
I probably should have shut it down right there, but things were moving so fast, and besides it was so neat to watch!
Bleep! There was another bit of grumbling from the disk drive.
"Welcome to the University of Long Island DEC20"
Please enter access code
11111 incorrect
11112 incorrect
11121 incorrect
11211 incorrect
12111 Incorrect
21111 incorrect
"Hey!" I cried. I didn't want to start hacking. Dad had given me a real earfull when some other kids in my class got mixed up in that sort of thing. I promised then that I wouldn't, but it looked as if the program had ideas of its own.
Of course all of this was happening much faster than it appears now. Those entrance codes flashed on the screen, blinking with new numbers, for several minutes. It looked as if the digits were dancing on the screen, and I would be hard pressed to tell you which one finally got access. But access it got:
Bleep!
Access Approved = Computer Open
Then there was more whirling while the program was set up. The graphics ran and the steam dissipated until "Genie's" logo filled the screen. I sat at the desk, my heart pounding; just sure that someone was going to start banging on the lab door any moment. Somehow this had to be illegal. Apparently, at any rate, the University of Long Island did have enough memory because the whirling finally stopped.
Bleep!
Type your name here _____________
My fingers were trembling so hard I barely got it out.
"Jim"
Bleep!
"Greetings Master Jim, I am the slave of the disk, whosoever possesses the disk posses me. I am ready to serve you. To use the old cliché: 'Your wish is my command.'"
I had to smile at that. Programmers are some of the smartest people on earth, but with that comes some of the weirdest senses of humor too. Still, I had no idea what this program did, so I typed what you always type when in trouble:
"Help"
The answer didn't make much sense.
"How may I help?"
"Explain function."
"Ask me for something; anything."
Well, it was time to call its bluff. I looked around outside of Mr. Sultan's office at the mess I had put off cleaning. This would fix it.
"Clean Lab"
"Which Lab?"
"Mr. Sultan's Lab"
"Please give Address"
Street __________________________________________
City ___________________ State ___________________
Zip ___________________
What could it hurt? I scrounged up a bit of junk mail and gave the address. I expected it to say "Lab is now clean" as if it were an adventure game or "You can't do that here," but instead I got the standard computer response:
"Working. . ."
It was at that point that I began to really sweat because I realized that I had just typed into a program that was probably running illegally on someone else's computer my name and my address. What was the punishment for hackers nowadays? I could be traced; they could find me; worst of all, what would I tell Dad? I had just come to the decision to unplug the PC when there came a single set of knocks on the Lab door.
I almost collapsed. They had come, or maybe they had called the police. What could I do? First get rid of that program. Reaching behind the PC I fumbled for the off switch when something bit me.
"Yah!" I jumped up and held my hand up to my face to see if there were any marks. As soon as I thought for I moment, however, I knew that what I had felt had been no bite but an electrical shock. Looking down at the screen I saw
. . .
"Sorry, but program can not be terminated until function complete."
Whoever had knocked on the door must of heard my yelp, 'cause he started banging again. I knew that I was doomed. Dancing around the room a bit, I spotted my coat, grabbed it and used it to covered the lit up monitor. A lot of good that would do me.
"Hey! Come on in there; open up!"
"Just a moment" I squeaked. I hate it when I squeak, but at that moment I was too scared to care. I tried to calm down as I fumbled for the keys and must have dropped them twice, but I eventually got the door open, just a crack, and peered out.
Outside there was a big guy in white overalls and a skinner guy behind him wearing the same outfit and carrying a big vacuum cleaner.
"Uh, yes?"
"Is this the Sultan Lab?"
"Um Right."
"ACME Storage and Cleaning, we're here to clean the lab."
"Your here to clean the lab?' The big guy looked to his friend.
"Is there a echo here or what? Yeah, we're here to clean the lab."
"Are you sure there's not some mistake? I didn't order any cleaning crew."
"And since when do you make those kinds of orders? Here's our worksheet signed and paid for."
“Paid for?"
"Look kid, are you going to let us in or do I have to go down to get the principal?"
"Oh no, it’s OK come on in."
The two guys came in grumbling but they got to work immediately. I just sort of tried to stay out of their way. I'd forgotten about the program.
"Bleep! "
"What was that?" asked the big guy.
"Oh, nothing, nothing just some school work I'm doing."
"Oh." He seemed satisfied, but I must have been giving off weird vibes since he kept on checking on me as I sortof backed my way into Sultan's office. Once inside I tore my coat off the monitor.
"Function completed."
I don't know why but there was just something smug about that phrase. I didn't have time to argue with it; I wanted out of there although it now seemed that noone was coming to get me. I didn't know how to end the program, so I just took a guess at a typical ending.
"End program"
"Yes Master"
There was the swishing of the disk drive and then the familiar >A. I pulled out the disk just as the big guy wrapped on Sultan's office door to tell me that they were done. It was time for us all to get out of there.
I don't think that I have ever peddled so hard as I did that day going home. I half expected a to find a police car with flashing lights waiting for me when I rolled into our driveway. By then I had figured that if I ever got through this safely I would never use the Genie program ever again.
There was no police car; that was good. There was also nobody home; that stunk. Mom was at some meeting again, Dad was at the church, and Tad was still at school teaching. I bet none of what follows would have happened if someone had been home to meet me.
I pulled open the fridge, but all I could find was some of Mom's Diet Pepsi, "Yick." What I wanted was a bottle of Classic Coke. Still. it was better than the milk or cran-apple juice that was sitting beside it. Grabbing some cookies to go with the soda, I went downstairs and tried to forget my worries by watching an episode of GI Joe (Yeah, I know that's for kids but there's nothing else good on at 4:30. Mom won't allow cable in the house).
The show didn't interest me very much since it was an episode I had already seen three times. I kept on thinking of the Genie program disk stuffed in my school backpack and of my computer (with modem) sitting in my room. About half way through the show, during a commercial, I wandered upstairs, still munching a cookie. Pulling out the brown envelope, I looked again at the fancy writing and at Dr. Solomon's comments. My munching had slowed way down while at the same time my heart was bumping hard and fast against my chest. I sort of wandered up to my room and sat down before my Tandy Color Co., tapping my hand with the disk. Inside, that knot in my stomach was twisting itself tight again, but then again nothing bad had happened. Somehow ACME Storage and Cleaning had even gotten paid. No one interrupted the program's function, and no police turned up at my door. I slipped the disk in.
I was amazed; just as promised, the Genie program came up on the Tandy as well as it had on the Apple. Pretty soon it was running through its system search again.
Local listings of modem users:
7982060
7982171
7983656
798 6660
798 7535 <Industrial User>
I noticed with some relief that it was going through a different part of the directory. That still made me concerned about how legal this whole thing was
Dialing: 7986660
Welcome to
Armageddon Munitions Inc.
CREY II
"Oh my gosh!"
Please Enter Code Word ___________
"Forget it!" I cried, "No! no! Shut down, shut down now!"
Accept. . . Incorrect
Accuse. . . Incorrect
Appease. . . Incorrect
Apocrypha. . . Close
Apocalypse. . . Correct
Computer Access Achieved!
Welcome Commander ______________ (Enter Name Here)
"Rambo" I typed weakly,
Welcome Commander Rambo; what program shall I run?
Before I could type another word, phrases began to appear on the screen.
Run "Genie"
Program: "Genie"
Rank: "Top Priority"
Memory: 5000 K . . . Working
Up came the graphics, then came the disk swirls, and finally. . .:
Bleep!
Type Name ___________________
I thought about it for a moment.
Slam! My whole body gave a jump leaving me tingling and ready to run. It took a moment to realize it was the only the front door closing.
"Hey Jim, I'm home!" My brother, Tad. "Aw Jim! Did you finish off the last bit of Diet Pepsi? You don't even like the stuff. Hey, you left the television on; you know Mom hates that."
I don't know what got into me. But I figured that "Tad" wasn't his real name. No one could trace it, and I didn't want to put my name in Armageddon's mainframe.
Type Name ____________________
"Tad"
"Greetings Master Tad, I am the slave of the disk, whosoever possesses the disk posses me. I am ready to serve you. To use the old cliché 'Your wish is my command.'"
"What can you do?"
'I'm sorry, but I can obey only Master Tad."
"I'm Master Tad"
"No, You're not."
"Aw for Pete's sake!" I had just reached around the back to flick the off switch when the memory of the shock came to me. What could I do?
"Hey Tad! Come up here. I've got something to show you." He appeared at the door with his out of date tie around his neck holding a glass of cran-apple juice.
"What have you got? Hey, are you OK?"
"Fine, fine" I didn't feel that fine. "Here, take a seat and try this program out."
"What is it, a new game?" He peered at the screen. .'Hey you've got it set up with my name, and what's this? An argument?"
"Just try it out."
"Well, what do I say?"
"Oh Just talk to it."
"Greetings!"
"Greetings Master. How may I serve you?"
"Hey! This is great. What's it called?"
"Genie" I said, "Go on, ask it to do something.
"Genie, I would like a million dollars."
Bank (?) ________________ Branch (?) ______________
Account Number(s)?' ______________________
"Huh? Does it really want my bank account numbers?"
"Maybe you ought to try something else."
"I don't get it. Say, you've got the modem working. Is this thing working on the outside?
"Yes, it's a very special utilities program, so be careful what you ask for."
"What do you mean be careful?" I saw that I had no real choice. Besides I had to talk to someone about this thing, so I told Tad about finding the program, the automatic hacking, and ACME Storage and Cleaning.
"So you see?" I finished, "This program might find a way to get you that million dollars. But I don't know where it might get it, and it has not been very legal so far." For a moment there was total silence. Tad's eyes always look big because of his glasses, but now they were total saucers.
"Are you telling me that this thing is running illegally? . . . on a military computer? . . . with MY name on it??"
"Well, it isn't that bad."
"Not that bad? Jim, you could get us up to our very necks in. . .' He gulped for a moment. "How do we shut this thing down?"
"Now wait, wait Tad. Look we're in. Let's see if we're in any really trouble. Why not ask Genie if we can be traced?" Tad looked at me for a moment, but he know that I made sense.
"Genie"
"Yes Master?"
"Is anyone trying to trace you to this terminal?"
"Checking"
There was a moment of disk whirling while both Tad and the drive grumbled.
"Yes Master"
"Oh Boy!" Tad whispered, "we're in for it now." We were desperate, but I can get pretty smart when desperate."
"Tell Genie to stop them."
"Right"
"Block Trace"
"Working . . .
"Trace blocked"
"Genie, do they know where we are?"
"No Master."
"Whew!" Tad looked at me. "Jim, the first thing we've got to do is get out of that military installation. There's top secret stuff in there, and those guys are just a bit paranoid about keeping it that way. Now how do we exit this thing?'
"I suppose we could just shut it down."
"Fine"
"No! Wait, wait a second. Look, isn't this program amazing? It's almost like it was thinking for itself. Let's just ask it to find someplace to function whose owners aren't so concerned about their boundaries."
"Jim, anyone who owns a twelve million dollar computer is going to be a little concerned about illegal entries."
"Yeah, but some are more than others. Tell Genie to go back to Long Island University."
"Why?"
"That's where it worked before. Besides, it's evening, before dinner. If there was ever a low time of activity its probably now."
"I must have cottage cheese between my ears to let you talk me into this."
"Genie, I want you to relocate
"Yes Master"
"Go back to Long Island University's computer."
Dialing: 7850001
"Welcome to the University of Long Island 200000"
Please enter access code
12345 correct
Access Approved = Computer Open
"Look at that!" I cried.
"Yeah, worst code I've ever seen; must be other professors besides me who can't deal with numbers."
"No, no, what I means is that the program used that this afternoon, and it remembered it for now."
"If you start yelling 'It's alive!' I'm locking you up in the bathroom."
"OK, ask it to do something."
"First things first"
"Genie are you being traced?"
"No Master."
"Go on," I whispered, "ask it to do something!"
"Well, I was going to go to the library today to do some research; maybe it could. . ."
"Genie, give me a list of all of the articles written on Chaucer in 1987"
"Aw, Tad! What're you doing?"
"Shh!"
'Working . . .
Library: Listings File:
Astate, James. "Was Shakespeare Chaucer's Illegitimate Grandson?"
Elizabethan Scene 8 (1987) : 321330.
McClameron, Ruth. "Chaucer's Sex Goddess: the Wife of Bath." The
Quincy Quarterly 5 (1987): 225.
Leachwood, John. "The Atheist Chaucer." Medieval Survey 2.2 (1987): 7780.
"This is great? Correct MLA form and everything?"
"Tad, this is dull. I've got a question to ask it. Tell Genie to stop."
"Stop Genie"
"Yes Master"
I leaned over and typed.
"List all females and their addresses under 17 years old with the measurements of 36-24-36 in Massapequa Park."
"Now, there's a useful list" I said. I suppose you've figured we live in Massapequa Park.
"Jim, how's it going to find this out?"
"I don't know. Just hit enter. As long as you ask for it, I think Genie will give it a try."
"Working. . ."
The disk drive ground around for a long while, until I was getting ready to go get some gloves to flick the back button with. When suddenly . . .
Bleep!
Bethal, Becky. 135 East Lincon ST.
Fanklestein, Esther. 342 Westmount Hill.
Maronie, Suesan. 14 Oakhurst Ave.
"It's doing It!"
"But Jim, where, the heck, would this kind of information be listed?"
"Who knows? Who cares? Maybe it can be linked with credit card purchases. I don't know."
Smith, Sharon. 67 Shepherd Square
Welch, Wendy. 24 Main Street
"Isn't this great?"
"Jim this is highly immoral and unethical; besides there's no assurance that any of these girls will go out with you.
"Yeah, but at least I know where to look."
"Uh, true. . listen when this is done, could we, um, change the parameters a bit? Increase the age to 27 and add academic interests?"
Slam!! "What the Blazes is going on here?! I've been trying to reach this house for the last two hours, and all I've gotten is a busy signal!"
"It's Dad! Shut is down Jim. Quick!"
Did I ever mention that our Dad's a minister? Used to be a cop, now he's a minister, so he's got the temper of the one and the morals of the other. We could hear his heavy footsteps downstairs. We could also hear his comments:
"Oh for 'Crying-In-the-Bucket! Who left the television on? Spend the entire day trying to get a message home, and all I get is busy signals. Jim? Are you home?"
"Up here Dad!” I responded and then immediately hissed into my brother’s year, “Tad, you've got to tell Genie to shut itself off; your the Master now! That's why I needed you up here earlier" We could hear him coming up the stairs.
"Genie, Shut down!"
"Yes Master'
>A
Dad stood in my door. "What are you guys up to? Jim, I've told you that I don't want you on that modem more than an hour."
"Sorry Dad."
"It's my fault too Dad; Jim's found a great new program to help me with my research." I couldn't help it; I snickered. Tad kicked my shin.
"Hey!" I yelled, "who are you kicking?"
"Sorry, Tad replied, "I was just swinging my legs."
"Never mind," our father growled, "Tad, next time you want to do some research you call me up first; at least I won't spend the afternoon wondering what is going on."
"Right Dad."
"The same goes for you too James."
"No problem Dad."
"I've heard that before. Make sure that it isn't."
Well, me and Tad managed to stay out of Dad's bad side for several days, but we didn't do so hot in staying out of each other's way. I found that Genie was able to find out all sorts of great stuff, like where the cheapest comics could be bought or how to get on different mailing lists. I managed to get some stuff that came in brown paper covers, but Mom intercepted it and complained to the Postal Service. After that I figured I would lay low and just get legal things, like war catalogues from Armageddon Munitions Inc.
Tad, on the other hand, was always using my program to help himself with his graduate research. It drove me nuts; everyday when I came steaming home there held be sitting at his IBM (Genie worked there too) hogging my program. The worst of it all was that Mom would tend to side with him since he was working on some cruddy old Fud (Ph.D.), and she would allow almost anything if he'd only get it done. The final straw that broke the camel's back came on day when Tad met me at the house door, looking worried.
"I think something is wrong with the Genie program," he said, looking real sheepish.
"Aw Tad! What did you do?"
"Nothing different from usual. I just called up Genie and told it to find me the most recent article being published by Dr. McClameron. Everything seemed fine, but then up comes this article with no magazine name or date, and worst of all its not complete. I hope I didn't break it."
"Well, let's take a look at it." I said, pounding up the stairs where his IBM was humming. Sure enough there was an article on the screen, and the final sentence petered off without a period.
"In view of the Wife of Bath's exceptional experience. . ."
"This is weird," said Tad. "This is not where the article ended before. When I heard you coming through the door, it was up here, two lines up." Then, as we watched, the sentence I had found on the screen finished itself off. "In view of the Wife of Bath's exceptional experience with husbands, it is no wonder that she is considered herself an expert on the state of marriage."
"Huh?" said Tad.
"Well, I don't know what's wrong. . . a strange thought popped into my head.
"Tad, what was it you asked Genie to do again?"
"Um I think I started, when something like "Find the newest article written by Dr. McClameron."
"No, no, that's not what you said; try to remember you exact words."
"Find the most recent article written by. . ." Tad's voice trailed off. "Do you mean that this thing hasn't been published yet? That she's still writing it!? Jim! How is that possible? It would mean that somehow we've hooked into her word processor."
"You've hooked into it, not me."
"Don't get picky on me now. What the heck doe it mean?"
"Oh Ho? So now I'm the one being picky because you've gotten yourself in an illegal position with my program?"
"OK, OK, just tell me how to get out of this."
"Tell it to quit."
"I tried that. It won't let me shut down, it claims, until it finished this function. And apparently it won't be done with this function until Dr. McClameron stops tying. My hand still smarts when I tried flipping the switch."
I nodded, remembering my own zapped finger. I couldn't believe it though; in the mist of this mess Tad looked relieved. "Sorry, but I was really afraid that I had broken it."
"Wait here," I said, and headed down to the basement to got some gloves to try and turn the on/off switch. No luck; it was like the switch had become one with the plastic. Then we tried pulling the plug--no good. We even tried pulling the fuse--no way. Everything was either frozen, fused, or electrified. We were in big trouble, and I was P.O.ed!
"Great! This is just great Tad, just great! We can't turn it off, we can't stop it, we can't do anything until your Dr. McClameron finishes her stupid article. This really blows my plans for using Genie tonightmaybe forever! What is Dad going to do when he finds your computer on and tying up the only phone of the house? And how do we explain that his phone (which he only wanted tied up for one hour) might be out of commission for several hoursmaybe several days?!"
"Jim, I think you're missing the point here. Hasn't is occurred to you that this program is doing things that no program should? I mean, the business about running on any system was incredible enough, but now tapping into a word processor that's not even on line. This whole thing suggests a technology beyond anything we have here on Earth."
"Don't sidetrack me," I said, even though it occurred to me that he was making some sense. "What are you going to tell Dad, and what is he going to do with my program?"
"Bleep!"
"Processor shut down all available text relayed - Function completed."
"I guess she quit for the evening." Tad said sheepishly.
"Yes and so have you!" I snapped open his drive and snatched up my disk. "I'll take this nowthank you!"
"Hey come on Jim; I'm sorry I almost froze the program, but who could guess that Genie would be able to pull that word processor stunt? Aw, hey come on." He followed me as I stomped out of his room to my own.
"Don't tell me you haven't underestimated this program's power yourself."
That was true, and I suddenly realized what was really bothering me.
"Look Tad," I said, turning so that he had to stop in the hall while I was in my room, "I'm not really mad about the McClameron freeze up. It's just that this program was my find, and with you working on your graduate program, and all, I hardly ever get a chance to use it. Well, tonight Genie and I have plans!"
I closed the door practically on his nose. Sitting down in front of my computer I called up Dad to tell him that I was about to use the modem (and that the last hour and a half had been Tad), activated Genie, and stared at the screen where I kept on seeing Tad's hurt face just as the door closed. Brothers are so good at making you feel guilty, especially mine. It suddenly occurred to me that life might be a lot easier if we had two Genie programs. There were computers with modems where Tad worked, leaving me (I hoped) to use the systems here at home..
. . . this disk is strictly copyrighted . . . Dr. Solomon denies any responsibility for damage caused to the software or unit if this is attempted."
Ew. That sounded scary. Still I had several programs that were pretty good at overriding the failsafe copyright hooks in most programs. In fact because of these copy programs most companies now opt for long lectures in their packages on how immoral copying is, or they use some gimmick that creates a code which the program can't be run without, or they make vague warnings like Dr. Solomon. On the other hand I wasn't crazy about losing "The Greatest Utilities Program Ever." Then is occurred to me that one of the functions utility programs are supposed to do is copy.
'Genie, can you copy yourself?"
"Yes Master."
"Will you damage yourself?"
"No Master."
"Will you damage the computer?"
"No Master."
By this time I was shaking, but I was too far to chicken out now.
"Genie, Copy Yourself."
There was a grumbling and grumbling. The screen and grinding, and then grinding went blank and then filled up.
I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!
I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!! I'mFree!Free!!Free!!!Free!!!Free!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!!!!Free!!
Suddenly what looked like steam streamed out of my diskdrive, full force, like it does out of a tea kettle only thicker.
"Tad," I yelled, "Tad, Come here quick!" By this time the steam had filled up the room and formed a huge cloud over my head that was taking on a vaguely human form with crossed arms. Within the cloud two eyes formed, watery and blue. Then in front of them a pair of horn-rimmed glasses appeared through which those eyes found me.. The glasses settled on a gargantuan elongated nose. Then there came a thin mouth under a collapsed jaw which led to a thin neck that let to a short sleeve shirt buttoned to the top. In the upper pocket were a bunch of pens, a pocket protector, and a calculator.
"What's going on? Holy Mackerel!" Tad yelled as he ran in right through the lower portion of the figure which was still made of steam.
"Hewh! Hewh! Hewh! Surprise! Hi guys! Can you guess who I am?" His voice echoed but it also sounded as if he had a cold. "I'm the Genie of Disk!"
Tad just stood there with his mouth open, which was pretty understandable for the circumstances. Meanwhile I noticed that there was still some steam coming from my drive. I admit now it was stupid thing to do, but I tried to stuff up the hole with a piece of paper.
"Oh, funny guy huh?" Our visitor raised up his skinny arms and pointed his hands in a weird way at me. I, meanwhile, had backed up against the wall.
"Jim! Jump!" That was probably the smartest suggestion Tad ever gave me; 'cause just when I did the Genie let go. "Kafloom!" went the wall behind me (or at least a sound close to that) and it and the window within it were gone--just gone! Now up to then I admit I was scared, but now I was too mad to know better.
"You idiot," I cried. "Look at what you've done. How am I going to explain a blown out window and wall?"
"Hewh, Hewh," snorted the figure. "I wouldn't worry about explaining this little mess." He pulled out his bright red calculator and began punching buttons. 'According to Wilber here (He called his calculater Wilber!), when I divide your E.T.E. (Estimated Time of Expiration with the amount of megabytes used for your wishes, you don't have five seconds to live."
"You're going to kill us?" I squeaked, "after we freed you and everything? Why?" Genie looked surprised.
"Why, because of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principal of course." He replied reasonably, "You can't really depend on anything."
"So where's the other Genie?" I asked, stalling.
"What other Genie?'
'The one I asked you to copy."
"You mean when you asked me whether I could copy myself and all of that?'
"Right."
"Oh," he shrugged. "Heck, I’m not really mechanical, just malevolent. I lied. Ready to go?" I had run out of stalls.
"Wait, wait" Tad cried and turning to me said, 'Jim where the heck did this guy come from anyway? Did you let him in?" I couldn't believe he was asking me this, but when I started to answer, he shook his head. We waited only a second.
"What do you mean where did I come from?" asked Genie, stuffing Wilber back into his shirt pocket. You know darn well where I came from." And pulling himself up to his full, if scrawny, height he announced once again "I am the Genie of the disk."
"Sure you are," Tad said.
"You don't believe me?" Genie actually looked like someone had let some of the steam out of his cloud.
"Well, just look at you; you're about eight feet tall.
"Eight feet, ten inches."
"All right, eight feet, ten inches.0 Tad edged towards my computer and pulled out the disk. "Look at this, and eighth on an inch thick."
"Sixteenth on an inch."
"Ah, so much the more to my point. no one your size could fit in such a nearly two dimensional item."
"0h, so you doubt me eh? Well, `Bugger Brain,’ I'll just prove it to you before I squish you and your brother." There was a great hissing, and before our eyes our unwanted guest turned into a tornado of mist whose funnel lifted up and pointed into the disk. There was a sucking sound, and he was gone.
"Quick Jim!" Tad cried as he snapped the disk back into the drive, "Run the program just like you did the first time." I wasn't sure what he meant, but I stumbled over and typed:
"Run Genie
There was that comfortable swishing of the drive, and the screen flashed:
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
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NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
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NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
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NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNaNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo
"Bleep!"
"Type Name ____________________
"Jim"
"Greetings Master Jim, I am the slave of the disk; whosoever posses the disk, posses me. I am ready to serve you, To use the old cliché: 'you wish is my command.'"
I slumped forward and just rested. I was a little while before I realized that were were really safe. Only then did I become aware of Tad standing beside meshaking. I pulled out the Genie disk and looked at it. Seemed fine, normal, nothing unusual about it at all. Only when I turned to Tad and saw the open air view provided by Genie a moment ago did the totally incredibility of what had just happened hit me.
"Did we get him?" Tad asked.
"Seems so. How did you know held be back into the disk?'
"I didn't. I was just hoping he had never read the Arabian Nights."
"Huh?"
"Never mind," Tad collapsed on my bed. "Thank Heavens that's over. He looked over at the part of my room now missing a wall and sighed. "Jim, what are we going to do?"
I looked at the hole and thought for a moment: "Well either we call Dad and try to explain what has happened to my wall and the window that was a part of it or. . ." I looked down at my Genie disk and thought about Acme Storage and Cleaning. I thought about the dangers of facing Genie, and then I thought about facing Dad. And then. . . I put the disk back into the drive and snapped it shut. It wasn't really much of a choice.