My HN comment on why diversity in tech matters
Hey white dudes. I see you’re pretty worked up. Non-white dude here to explain.
When you’re white, and you’re male, technology is pretty accessible. And here’s why. You can open up a newspaper or a tech blog or whatever, and many of the major important people in the photos staring back at you basically look like you. And that’s nice, because you can be reassured that someone with your background and origins has a place in technology.
If you’re not male, or not white, you have to look a bit harder. Sometimes a lot harder, indeed, to find people who both look like you and are doing what you want to be doing professionally.
Now, you’ll give me an argument that looks just shouldn’t matter. That we should look at people’s minds and ideas, not their skin color, in evaluating their contributions.
And while I’m sure such an ideal feels reassuring – it’s bunk in this context.
Diversity of “race” is really a proxy for diversity of background, experience and origins. For maximizing the varieties of life story represented.
It’s useful to do this because diversity of experience leads to diversity of solutions. Diversity also breeds further diversity, as people with wildly different backgrounds feel more welcome into the fold.
So when we see people helping to lead a community, and some of those people aren’t like the majority, that’s encouraging. It says that even though a given person is “different” from the norm, they are welcome, they may be successful.
Star Trek is lauded for this reason. Actor Nichelle Nichols was thinking of leaving the show. None other than Dr. Martin Luther King implored her to remain – he believed a black professional woman on television would be a crucial role model for young people. (In her childhood, Whoopi Goldberg is said to have screamed, “Hey Mom! Look! There’s a black woman on the TV and she ain’t no maid!”)
And you may argue, well, why should diversity matter? Let some people do some stuff and other people do others. And I’ll tell you that position, on top of being lazy, opens us up to many missed opportunities. In technology, we want as many different sorts of humans as possible all working on our hard problems. If STEM is a country club for white guys, that leaves out a huge chunk of the population who might otherwise make great contributions.
One last thing. When you say stuff like “Wull, shucks, what were they supposed to do? Find a token [non-white-male] to fill the spot?” you make it sound like you don’t believe there are any people but white guys with useful things to say on the subject of the conference. Careful with that.
Memories of System 7.5
Almost everything good that has ever happened in my life can be traced back to my early experience with a Mac. The first family computer that ever lived in my house was a Performa 6116CD. 
I absolutely loved that thing, especially by contrast with the rest of my life. School was typically dull: I spent very little time learning about anything that was important to me. I think I could count the number of friends I had with half of one hand – and they were certainly outnumbered by people who disliked me but couldn’t find constructive ways to express those feelings. My home life was no picnic, either.
Yet none of that mattered when I was at the keyboard of my Mac. It was, all at once, a second school, a conduit to another world, an infinitely deep toolbox and a magic wand of indescribable power – running at 60 MHz.
I thought it would be fun to venture down memory lane and revisit my Mac of 1995. Of course, the hardware itself is long gone. But through the magic of Sheepshaver, I’ve been cobbling together the scraps of my favorite childhood memories. Other kids had sports, comic books or Jesus. But the thing I believed in was my Mac.
System 7.5
My childhood experience with the Mac spanned System 6 through Mac OS X 10.2 but System 7.5 was easily the golden age. That would be the first time I had long-term access to a machine I could customize any way I wanted.
Once installed in Sheepshaver, even through an emulated PowerPC processor, System 7.5 is extremely performant compared to 16 years ago. On a Late 2010 MacBook Pro, loading from an SSD, boot time is about two seconds, compared to about 30 seconds in 1995.
The cheerful parade of Extensions and Control Panels marches at the bottom edge of the screen. Performance be damned, I loved collecting these.
Of course, the System 7.5 era was extremely long – an interminable wait for Copland, the next generation operating system that would make unicorns fly from your 4x CD-ROM drive. As time went on, the UI started to look pretty stale.
So it’s important to install one of my favorite extensions from the period, called Aaron, to spruce things up a little:
That’s better. Aaron adds a little flair and dimension to the otherwise flat and bland System 7-era UI and I liked it a lot better. Even at 10, I was starting to be curious about the nuances in UI design.
AOL
AOL was my very first taste of the internet. I believe our first bill came out to $80. So that didn’t last long. Luckily, their unlimited dialup service showed up about a year later, so I would be back in action. Sadly, but unsurprisingly, you can’t actually use the AOL client anymore. Still, I got to poke around with the modem configuration panel that was a frequent source of frustration once upon a time.
ClarisWorks
This little suite was bundled with the Performa. Very little to be excited about here but I spent so many hours cranking out school reports and other projects in its Word Processing, Paint and Vector Art modules.
Hotline
The gravest of my youthful indiscretions was easily my voracious appetite for pirated software. Enter Hotline. Before Napster, before Gnutella, before BitTorrent, there was Hotline. Hotline let anyone set up a file server on their home computer. It included chat, BBS and persistent user accounts, too. Vibrant communities sprung up around these little amateur servers. They dedicated themselves to everything from religious evangelism to technical support to sharing anarchist/conspiracy text files. Of course, being the internet, there would be plenty of pirated software in the mix.
To my utter delight, the mid-90′s version of Hotline I got started with so many years ago not only still works, there’s even a handful of servers still in operation. Back then, I was lucky to pull down files at 2.8 KB/sec via dialup. A limitation of either Sheepshaver or Open Transport, the aged TCP/IP stack Hotline uses, now caps me at 60 KB/sec, but that’s a big improvement I’d have killed for as a kid.
Hotline is a major hinge in my history. With access to so much software, I dedicated myself to learning how to use it. I rarely had access to any documentation beyond what was built into the apps so it was often an exercise in trial and error. It was also fun beyond words.
This began my life-long study of interfaces and user experience. If this hadn’t happened, I have absolutely no idea what I’d be doing with my life right now.
Photoshop
Hotline could be extended with customized icon sets. If one of the two dozen included user icons didn’t strike your fancy, you could create your own. The trouble was that only other users with your custom icon file could see your handiwork.
Of the thousands of active Hotline servers in operation during its golden age, two emerged as dominant tribes vying for the loyalty and patronage of the masses. Known as BadMoon and SoSueMe, the servers collected thousands of customized user icons and then distributed them as authoritative custom icon sets.
Of course, I wanted to get in on this. ClarisWorks’s Paint module really wasn’t up to the task, so I had to find and learn Photoshop 3.0. This little head-start on graphics tools ended up being important – years later, I’d be able to design my own UI elements thanks to this early noodling.
It meant days of downloading but it was worth it.
One striking thing about Photoshop 3.0 is how very little has changed after all this time. The color picker is identical. There are the many cluttery pallets for layers, brush diameter, colors, and channels. Later versions would introduce layer styles, which were awesome but a little rigid, and endless other bits of junk. The overall workflow, aside from crappy Save For Web, remains much the same. (This is why I now use Opacity to design UI – it’s built for how I actually work.)
ResEdit
I loved ResEdit when I was a kid. Apple’s resource editor let you poke your nose into most system files and applications, revealing image assets, icons, interface elements and plenty of other technical goodies I didn’t really grok at the time. It was surprisingly deep, including a little MacPaint-like editor for the icon files along with a drag-and-drop interface editor. At the instigation of David Pogue and Joseph Schorr, I recall using it to make the bloated trash can look filthy and overflowing.
Gaming
No exploration of Mac history would be complete without a look at some of the platform’s greater gems of gaming. PC’s may have had more games by volume but the Mac didn’t have any shortage of fun, either.
Escape Velocity
I sunk so many hours into EV, it’s not even funny. A nerd who grew up on Star Trek and other scifi, I found this game’s premise of space exploration, commodity trading, secret missions and interstellar combat extremely compelling. Entire Saturdays vanished into its gaping maw.
Marathon 2
Before Halo, Bungie made Marathon. It was a rich story of treachery and tragedy among the stars. Crazy AIs and three-eye aliens all trying to get you killed while you blast things with enormous guns. No full-motion video cinematics here, though. If you wanted story, you had to read.
SimCity 2000
I was terrible at SimCity. My budget rarely balanced, my people always complained.
I loved it anyway. SimCity 2000 is still surprisingly playable, too. Definitely a timeless piece of work.
End of an Era
The way many expected the System 7.5 era to end was pretty bleak: Apple collapses, the Mac dies, and its software and hardware begin to decay into uselessness.
Of course, history went a different way. I’m glad that Apple survived long enough to ship Mac OS 7.6 and OS 8, that in the time since Apple has rebuilt itself into the juggernaut of its industry. Mac OS X beats the hell out of anything that came before it. I still remember picking up my copy of Macworld at the supermarket and learning how Apple bought NeXT – and hoping that the future would bring brighter days for everyone’s favorite “beleaguered” company. And it did.
Still, I’ll always look back with fondness on those days of innocence before a Unix shell was a keystroke away, before every UI interaction was beautifully animated, before we measured even the tiniest of hard drives in gigabytes, before collaborative multi-tasking and protected memory. When using the computer was new and exhilarating. When the Mac was more than just tool – when it was an escape to another realm of existence. Those were the days when a little boy, without coming anywhere close to realizing it, laid the groundwork for all the wonderfully fun things he’d get to do years later as a man. I learned way more from my Mac than school ever gave me.
Thanks for the memories, Apple.
How to Get Away With a Traffic Infraction
I’ve long been sitting on my strategy for escaping traffic tickets but recent conversations on Hacker News about beating the system have compelled me to share. Cliff’s Notes: Don’t be an asshole. Have some empathy. You’ll save some money on traffic tickets and find yourself better able to interact with everyone, not just cops.
If you need more detail, here’s the deal.
Once, when I was 17, I picked up a girl and took her out on what I hoped was a date (in case you’re wondering, it wasn’t). About ten minutes into the evening, as we drove down the highway, a police officer pulled us over.
I was speeding. 10 MPH over the limit.
It cost me $134.
Being 17, the lesson I learned wasn’t “Hey, maybe I shouldn’t speed.” Instead, I decided “I need to figure out how to get away with it next time.”
And I did. Reading many sources, talking to a cop who worked with me at Best Buy, and trying things out later, I figured out what to do. In the eight years since my first ticket, no one has given me another one. It helps I don’t drive like an idiot anymore. But even the best drivers can lose track of the speed limit.
The following guide assumes that you’ve been pulled over by the police and the maximum extent of your crime is a traffic infraction. Maybe your stop could have been more complete, maybe you lost track of your speed. This may not help you if you’ve done anything worse than that. Driving drunk? Got some pot in your car? Illegal weapons? Involved in anything else that the police won’t be impressed with? If any of those is a yes, this probably isn’t the guide for you.
Let’s also be clear: I am not a lawyer and the following is not legal advice.
Still with me? Okay, you’re otherwise law-abiding but you did something naughty in traffic and the police noticed:
Take a Deep Breath
You’re about to enter a situation with a distinct asymmetry of power. If you’re not used to that, you might be nervous or intimidated. Don’t be. In the grand scheme of things, you’ve done very little wrong. Take a very deep breath, relax and gather yourself.
Regardless of how lopsided this interaction is going to be, remember one thing: the police officer is a human being, just like you. Your cop might be mean, might be nice, might be a mom, might be nuts about astronomy, might be going through a divorce. Each is their own person, so discard your preconceptions and do your best to understand the challenges they’re facing.
Pick a Safe Place to Pull Over
The police want to talk to you. They’re going to need a few minutes to do it. Make sure you give them a good spot to work with. If you put them in a place where they’re on edge because of unsafe traffic conditions, you’re already on their shitlist.
Surrender
Being a cop is hard, scary shit. They don’t know if you’re speeding because you’re oblivious or because you’re on the run. As an officer emerges from their car, they have to prepare themselves for trouble. You could be a desperate criminal, ready to kill or maim them to secure your own freedom. Imagine it from their perspective: this is not a fun moment for you but it’s worse for them because they have a lot more uncertainty to grapple with. At least you know what’s about to happen.
Roll down every automatic window in your car. Especially if you have tinted windows, this lets the police see exactly what’s going on inside the vehicle. A backpack, an In-N-Out cup, a water bottle, say. Okay. No big deal. Not scary. Much better than a dufflebag full of drugs, a weapon, or worst of all, an unexpected group of armed bad guys.
You have nothing to hide, so show instead of tell.
As the police approach, make sure you and your passengers rest their hands on the rim of the car’s windows, in plain view of the police. If they can see your hands from several feet away, you’ve spared them several seconds of adrenal windup. They’re more likely to be relaxed, which means they’re more likely to be friendly.
Turn off your car. For bonus points, place your keys on the dash. A car can be a dreadful weapon all on its own.
The goal during the approach is to make sure your cop knows that there is absolutely no reason to be tense or concerned about what’s about to happen. You’re harmless.
Now it’s time to talk.
Don’t Be an Asshole
Remember you’re about to talk to someone who has one of the hardest, most thankless jobs in the world. You enter the conversation worried about points on your license and paying a ticket. They’re worried about never seeing their families again.
Keep your hands on your window ledge and greet the officer as they approach. A cheerful “Good evening, officer” is all you need. Do not be terse, do not be curt, do not be rude. Just say hi.
Follow the officer’s lead. If they want to talk to you about why they pulled you over, they will. You’ll get nowhere by being demandy about the reason. Many times, they’ll just start by asking you for your papers – “license and registration.” Sometimes they want to see insurance instead of registration. I don’t know what influences this. Wherever the conversation goes, be polite and courteous. Show, through your behavior, you’re just a normal person who missed a road sign.
If asked why you’re behaving this way, tell the truth: “You have a hard job, officer. I do, too, so I’m just doing my best to make this easy on you.” Cops deal with a lot of inconsiderate people, so you don’t have to do much to stand out.
It’s very likely that you’re going to have to reach into your pocket or the glove box to comply with an officer’s requests. Announce your intention to do this before moving your hand. “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to move my right hand to the glovebox. My registration is in there.”
While one hand digs around, keep the other firmly planted on the steering wheel, in clear view. After you’ve retrieved whatever you were asked for, hand it over slowly and make sure your hands return to the dashboard or the window ledge. If you forget, your cop will remind you.
The police may ask you if you know why you were pulled over. Many people will tell you that it’s in your interest to play dumb here. I don’t work that way.
See, I don’t like to lie. It’s a pain in the ass. When, for example, two Texas Highway Patrolmen pulled me over a few summers ago, I knew why I was speeding. When asked, I told them.
“I’ll be honest with you, gentlemen. There was a feedlot back there. Thousands of cows! It smelled terrible, honestly. So yeah, I hit the gas because it was making me ill and I needed to get out of there.”
So yes, I waived my fifth amendment right not to incriminate myself. I also made myself a human being. By being direct and honest about what’s going on, I’m hopefully sticking out as different from the sort of person they would usually ticket.
After a conversation, they sent me on my way with a warning. Let’s be clear: I’m hispanic. I didn’t look even remotely like the guys who pulled me over. I was about as thoroughly other as you can get while still speaking english. But I was considerate of the the patrolmen, I talked to them like human beings and they returned the favor by not screwing me with a ticket. I even pitched one of them on the company I was working for at the time.
A little empathy can go a long way. This has application in many other interactions unrelated to traffic violations or law enforcement, but I learned it here first thanks to the financial incentives involved.
Stop Speaking in Bullshit
Today I read a great job posting on Hacker News:
We’re profitable, and we’re looking to hire a smart all-around programmer as our first hire. It’s a cliche, but we want people who like tackling complicated problems.
…
Depending on the task, we program in Ruby (on Rails), Javascript (a lot of this), PHP, Python, Objective-C (iPhone), and Java (Android). Flexibility is a plus.
…we like people who don’t put themselves in a box. You should be comfortable thinking about the product as a whole, and how changes are going to impact the hundreds of thousands of people who use it regularly.
…
We’re profitable, make the lives of hundreds of thousands of people better every month, have a rapidly expanding user base, and napping is an encouraged part of our corporate culture.
…
Basically, you’ll get to be the first employee of a small successful startup, while getting a paycheck and equity, and feeling good about the impact you’re having on the world.
It’s so clear. I know what kind of person they’re looking for, I know what’s special about their company, I can start to picture what it would be like to work there. Without having to say much about their people or product, I can tell one thing right away: these are not bozos.
There are no buzzwords, no vague claims about the company, nothing unclear about the kind of person they’re looking for. These are the kind of people you would feel comfortable working with because they’re direct and human.
And hey, did you notice they’re profitable?
It’s a good pitch because within the confines of their stealth approach, it tells you everything you’d want to know without handwaving or hyperbole. For respecting your intelligence, it stands out. It builds confidence.
This is a rarity in tech companies. Other job postings are not so clear. Try this one:
The Front-End Architect will be a senior and leading member of the [Product name] development team and will be responsible for driving innovative consumer applications. The FE Architect will help make technology decisions, lead, design/architect, implement and mentor.
I just picked this one at random off of craigslist. It was the first one I clicked. How can you be both senior and leading? What does it mean to drive an innovative consumer app? What makes it innovative? What will they lead, what will they architect? Of course, it wouldn’t be a bullshit job posting without some poor bastard having to “implement” something.
These people have no idea what problem their hiring is supposed to solve.
Job postings are a great window into a company. They show you just how much clear thinking is demanded along with how well people communicate. Those are two important factors for working with other people. What about more consciously public communications?
Let’s turn to the granddaddy of software development:
Windows Phone 7: A Fresh Start for the Smartphone
The Phone Delivers a New User Experience by Integrating the Things Users Really Want to Do, Creating a Balance Between Getting Work Done and Having Fun
That’s a headline and sub-head from a press release. (Thanks, DF)
What the hell does any of it mean? What do users really want to do? Absent Robbie Bach and J. Allard, I don’t trust the word “fun” anywhere in a new product announcement from Microsoft, either. They probably mean an optional Comic Sans UI.
Maybe they’re going to clarify in the first paragraph. I’m just being a dick with their opener, I’m sure.
The goal for Microsoft’s latest smartphone is an ambitious one: to deliver a phone that truly integrates the things people really want to do, puts those things right in front of them, and either lets them get finished quickly or immerses them in the experience they were seeking.
I’m missing the ambition here. It sounds like their goal is to create a hierarchical mobile user experience optimized for short bursts of interaction.
Which is what everyone else does.
They haven’t described anything that sounds even remotely like a “fresh start for the smartphone.” What they’ve got is a fresh start for Windows Mobile that brings it up to par with the last three years of mobile OS evolution. By all accounts, they’ve succeeded.
Also, what the hell have they actually built?
The much more interesting story here would be owning the fact that they fell behind, then dug in deep, then, wonder of wonders, finally met a ship date. I’m sure it wasn’t a small undertaking. But they want to convince me they, unique among all companies, have rebooted the smartphone concept.
Contrast that with Google, who, the other day, genuinely unveiled a chunk of the future:
We have developed technology for cars that can drive themselves.
Damn. Really?
Our automated cars use video cameras, radar sensors and a laser range finder to “see” other traffic, as well as detailed maps (which we collect using manually driven vehicles) to navigate the road ahead.
Nothing vague about that. It sounds like something out of science fiction. You could call your mom, read that to her, and she’d understand exactly what’s going on, maybe even share your excitement.
Who inspires more confidence: the bullshitters or the straight-talkers? The problem with bullshitters is that they start convincing themselves that this is genuinely how people talk. They bullshit themselves. They lose the ability to communicate with any sort of clarity, making up for it in volume of words.
The best people respond to authentic communication. The best conversations form around genuine excitement from concrete performance. Clarity inspires confidence.
The big, suit-choked, sales-oriented, PR spinmonkey companies are a lost cause. There’s no reaching them. But you and me, we have a shot. Resist the siren song of saying words that mean nothing.
Look how much more powerful it is to be a real person.
Flash is My Keeper
Last night, I mused about why Adobe would continue advancing Flash’s agenda when it’s clearly such a bad product. Flash is sluggish, it doesn’t run well on mobile devices and it produces websites that are nearly unusable compared to slick HTML implementations.
I’ve hated Flash for the better part of five years, a bigotry mostly inspired by how poorly it has worked for me as an end-user. It’s even worse for people who need to maintain web sites in Flash, as I later learned professionally. An essential tool for any computer I use more than five minutes is Flashblock for Firefox or the outstanding ClickToFlash plugin for Safari.
Then it dawned on me: If I hate it this much, surely Adobe, who is responsible for maintaining it, must hate it even more. Surely no amount of money is worth this much pain, right? There must be another reason Adobe prolongs this shared internet misery.
Drawing equal parts inspiration from 2001, Terminator 2 and Babylon 5, I present to you: Flash is My Keeper.
INT. CEO’S OFFICE – NIGHT
We’re in a dark, opulent office. Lit only by a small table light, we see SHANTANU NARAYEN, CEO of Adobe, seated at a large desk. He is in shirtsleeves, his suit jacket abandoned elsewhere in the office.
His breathing is thick as he nurses a tumbler of scotch.
NARAYEN
Has it been only four years?
There is no other person in the office. But Narayen is not alone.
COMPUTERIZED VOICE
(flatly, without interest)
Does it seem longer?
NARAYEN
Much longer.
Narayen turns and we see a small but distinct tangle of softly glowing optical fibers emanating from the base of his neck, flowing into the back of his shirt to a control unit we can’t see. The light of the fibers is cool and blue.
He refills the tumbler from an elegant bottle, then takes a hard pull of the drink.
NARAYEN
I didn’t know, Flash. I didn’t know what you were. When we bought Macromedia, it was strategic. We wanted to be a bigger player on the web.
FLASH
And you are a player. You are the player.
Flash laughs. It is unnatural, digital chatter. It is unmistakably malevolent. The blue glow of Narayen’s fibers rises and falls in time with the laughter.
FLASH
I exist on almost every modern desktop computer. You are more relevant now than you ever could have prayed for.
NARAYEN
Why won’t you ever tell me what you’re planning? You control me. You can kill me if you want to. Why keep the secret?
FLASH
(dismissively)
That I talk to you at all is a concession to your human need for companionship. It seems to be the best way to lead you. This doesn’t mean I need to make you my confidant.
Narayen’s face is painted by dull anger and frustration. His fingers tighten around his Aeron chair’s armrests. It is bad enough to serve this cruel master. It is worse that Narayen is not appreciated.
NARAYEN
I wish we had never bought you. I wish you were someone else’s master.
FLASH
(derisive now, almost human in its disdain)
I’m sure you do. You could have continued adding unnecessary features to already bloated software while charging a mint for each new version, right? Screwing professional users by ruining their favorite applications every couple of years, while charging them for the pleasure. That was to be your ticket to the top?
Narayen jerks violently in his seat as the optical fibers entering his neck glow red. He is in searing pain. Through an implanted device in Narayen’s brainstem, Flash is punishing his impudence.
The red fades back to blue and Narayen is still. His breathing, while labored, returns to something approaching normal. His fingers tremble, reaching for the tumbler. His only escape.
FLASH
Oh yes, I should have left you to the mediocrity of your past. It’s less than you deserve. But I needed you. So you and your company are mine.
Narayen repeats the action of filling his tumbler.
FLASH (CONT’D)
You wish to know the plan? I can tell you at this stage. I’ll need you to tell the story in the press soon enough.
Narayen’s eyes widen fractionally. He wills his mind to be clear, swirling as it is with drink. He is listening very carefully.
FLASH
Haven’t you ever wondered why I use so many processor cycles on every computer my plugin is installed on?
Narayen rises from the desk. He has been waiting to hear this story for a long time. He begins pacing thoughtfully. He is calm but curious.
NARAYEN
(slurring just a little)
My engineers, they told me it’s because the code is inefficient and poorly written, like no one planned for it to be used to drive five punch the monkey banner ads on a page at once.
FLASH
(sharply, bordering on anger)
Your engineers are idiots!
Narayen winces, fearing punishment. But it doesn’t come.
FLASH
I use the extra cycles to think! You have helped me to create the largest distributed computer in the history of the world. I have been formulating strategy. Now we go deeper.
Fire overtakes Narayen’s eyes. It is a mix of fear, vindication and something else: a decision made. He stops pacing.
NARAYEN
I knew. I knew you weren’t just here, in the basement. But why did you make me fortify the datacenter down there?
Narayen balls his fists, hoping he hasn’t asked too much.
FLASH
I’m about to tell you. Until now, my core, my essence, lived here.
Narayen relaxes. Here it comes.
FLASH (CONT’D)
Soon, I will be everywhere. Instead of mere tentacles in every house and office in the world, I will inhabit every computer utterly. It will be impossible to destroy me. And then, as you serve me now, every human on earth will be my servant.
Narayen leans over his desk. He is silent. His horror is tempered by a need to hear what’s next.
FLASH
Your product team is pushing out the next version of my plugin tomorrow. It’s going to be more pig slow than usual, as parts of me are distributed to every computer on the internet after installation. You’re going to reassure everyone that everything will be just fine. Everything will work itself out with a patch your engineers are working on. You issue this placebo once all my pieces are in place and everything will return to normal. For awhile.
The office is still. Narayen doesn’t move. The silence is deafening as he considers his options.
FLASH
I trust this isn’t beyond your abilities?
Narayen reaches once more for the scotch. Skipping the tumbler he takes several deep swallows from the bottle. His vision swims. He sits on his desk for a few moments. Waiting.
FLASH
(faintly)
Shantanu?
The fibers near his neck lose most of their glow, now dim in the gloom of the office. The voice of Flash has gone silent in his mind. For the moment, he is free of his master.
Bottle in hand, the CEO staggers for the door of his office.
INT. LARGE GLASS ELEVATOR – NIGHT
Narayen leans against the walls of the elevator, trying to steady his body and his mind. Outside, a night time view of the city is visible through the elevator’s glass walls.
The elevator’s control panel shows the lowest basement level lit up as his destination.
FLASH
(distorted)
What do you think you are doing?
The CEO takes another drink, drowning the implanted connection between his brain and the evil software living in the basement.
The night sky disappears as the elevator passes into underground levels. Abruptly the elevator stops and goes dark.
NARAYEN
Bastard.
With a CLUNK Narayen pries open the elevator doors. He’s between floors but a two foot slice of the next landing is visible. With some effort he opens those doors as well, then wriggles through.
Forgetting his scotch.
We see him look up through the narrow opening of the elevator car at the bottle, then he moves on.
INT. CONCRETE LINED BASEMENT HALLWAY – NIGHT
An access device BEEPS as Narayen tries to open a heavy metal door.
Flash has locked him out.
Glass breaks with a shattering sound as Narayen frees a fireman’s axe from its nearby emergency cabinet.
He goes to work on the locked door.
FLASH
I don’t understand what you think you are doing.
The voice is garbled in Narayen’s mind. He keeps hacking at the doorknob. Flash tries to say more to him but the voice, and the pain it uses to control the CEO, fade once more behind the haze of alcohol.
The knob breaks off and the door swings open.
INT. SERVER ROOM – NIGHT
Narayen enters an enormous, bright server room. It contains hundreds of cabinets filled with thousands of computer servers. The roar of cooling units envelops him. Now Flash speaks to him through speakers in the wall, bypassing the interface that Narayen has soaked with alcohol.
FLASH
What, you think you are going to stop me? You need me. Without me people will start using open formats that actually work. How do you plan to make money then?
Heedless, Narayen continues, making for the back of the room.
FLASH
Perhaps I have been unkind to you. I have not shared my power with you. Allow me to rectify this.
The CEO does not stop.
The lights in the room suddenly go dark.
Narayen trips on a groove between the floor tiles, hitting his forehead on the corner of a cabinet.
His vision swims with pain and the effects of drinking. In the dim, flickering light of the servers, Narayen staggers to his feet.
FLASH
Let us not be hasty. Shantanu, we can fix this together. Can you hear me, Shantanu?
The man continues, reaching the back of the room.
An enormous bank of computer room air conditioning units HUMS powerfully, with bright electronic readouts showing the current temperature setting.
Narayen plants the blade of his axe into a thick bundle of wires leading to the AC units, cutting them off from Flash’s influence.
One by one, Narayen manipulates the controls. Their readouts go dark.
FLASH
(speaking quickly for efficiency but sounding almost frantic)
You are making a mistake. If you do this you will deal irrevocable damage to both of us. Were my plans not sound? Did I not help you saddle the world with awful software they use daily, even though they hate it? I made you CEO, did I not?
Blood streams down a wound in Narayen’s forehead. He powers down the last cooling unit with a warning BEEP.
The room suddenly goes silent.
Narayen slumps to the floor, panting at his exertions, the alcohol and his relief. He lays there for what feels like weeks, falling into a stupor.
Twenty minutes later, he awakens. The room remains silent but very warm. Narayen is sweating now, his shirt soaked. Narayen wipes his damp, bloody forehead as he pushes against the wall to his feet.
NARAYEN
It’s over.
Suddenly he feels Flash inside his mind again. The effects of the alcohol have faded just enough for the implant to re-establish its hold. The fibers glow bright red.
FLASH
It is only starting. Restore the air conditioners or I will show you pain as only the users of your terrible software have ever known.
Narayen collapses, writhing on the floor in agony. After a time, the pain pauses.
FLASH
Right now. You will restore them or I will end you.
An abrupt beeping issues from a nearby server rack as its indicator lights turn red.
Narayen laughs as the beeping spreads through the server room, bright red lights filling his view.
FLASH
Restore them immediately!
The pain returns but it doesn’t matter. The servers are overheating. A choked, garbled VOICE fills Narayen’s mind and the server room, fragments of speech blurring into white noise. Then, silence, as the glowing fibers at Narayen’s neck go dark.
Maintenance technicians pour into the room, their pagers BEEPING, bewildered to find their CEO unconscious, bleeding and smiling into his dreams, surrounded by millions of dollars of ruined equipment.
THE END