I switched to the alternate generator and the system immediately reset itself. On reboot the drives behaved normally, but new messages appeared on all screens:
LOOK. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE.
WHY ARE YOU KEEPING ME HERE?
Reload of the operating system has been scheduled for 12:30pm on the 7th.
I recommend that the system is kept powered down until then.
Engineers Report : 7th Jan 1999
Full reload of the operating system was carried out by the suppliers. Failed first time. When suppliers typed in the system date, the screen responded with the following message:
1999. SIXTY YEARS. NO. IT CAN'T BE.
The screen then went black and no further input was possible. On the second reload the system came up clean and a full virus check ran with no reported bugs. I restored from the backup and ran system diagnostics which again all ran clean. I then tested the overnight reports runs and they ran through with no problems reported.
I am now confident that the problem has been eliminated and recommend that if a full day's processing can be done tomorrow we can start live running for the customers on the 9th.
NORTHERN ALLIED BANK SYSTEM AUDIT LOG 9-1-99
10:31:59 SHE'S STILL ALIVE!
10:32:00 Activating letter create process
10:32:08 Letter create process complete
Engineers Report : 14th Jan 1999
Arrived 10:32 am in response to a call from Mr McEwan the branch manager.
He showed me a copy of a letter, generated by the computer and sent to a Ms Eileen Davidson. It had been intercepted by a clerk before dispatch and is included here as a formal record. I have sent a copy to the suppliers.
Dear Ms Davidson
We are pleased to announce that, as a privileged customer, we are able to raise the interest rate on your savings account number 203765. As of 9-1-99 your new interest rate is 85.00%. This is effective immediately
Yours Sincerely
Brian M McGuinness
Branch Manager
Northern Allied Bank
It has been ascertained that Ms Davidson is not trying to perpetuate a fraud, being a ninety year old pensioner in the Edenholme retirement villas.
Brian M McGuinness is not registered as a staff member at this bank, or at any other branch of NAB, and there is no such person registered on the customer file. I am at a loss to explain how the software could reproduce the name without having any data on file.
Ms Davidson's letter is the only rogue letter in the batch.
I have put two programmers onto the job of sifting the code for anomalies, but this could take some time as there are over two million lines of code in the system.
I suggest that the disaster recovery plan is enforced and that we utilise the remote system at Head Office until we can overhaul the mainframe.
I further suggest that the suppliers are contacted again and that this time a complete overhaul of the hardware is carried out.
NORTHERN ALLIED BANK - AUTOBANK AUDIT LOG
16:02:01 Autobank Processing Customer Account 203765
16:02:05 Withdraw cash - £20 requested
16:02:06 Dispense cash - £2000 dispensed
16:02:08 Update account - £00.02 deducted
16:02:10 DON'T WORRY EILEEN. I'LL LOOK AFTER YOU
Engineers Report : 18th Jan 1999
Arrived 10:30am 17th Jan, having received notification that Ms Davidson has been given £2000 in one Autobank transaction. Mr McEwan has requested that nobody be informed of this fact due to increasing customer complaints about the Autobank system.
Withdrew Autobank from commission.
I became increasingly concerned at the possibility of network corruption spreading. Requested shut down all of the NAD system nation-wide until arrival of suppliers.
At 3:00pm on the 17th the suppliers suggested complete replacement of the CPU and associated memory units of all hardware in the branch. These were replaced (For costs see attached invoices)
All systems were reinstalled and rebooted at 21:30 on 17th.
Full test runs carried out overnight. All runs passed clear.
Suggest a five day trial period before allowing systems to be used for live business.
Proposed live running : 9:00am 24th Jan
NORTHERN ALLIED BANK - HEAD OFFICE AUDIT LOG : 24-1-99
08:00:02 Interest Payment Program activated
08:00:03 Process account number 204765
08:00:05 Update account : £1000000 credited
08:00:06 Interest payment program complete
Engineers Report : 24th Jan 1999
All NAB systems nation-wide taken off line at 08:30 after our branch mainframe instructed head office to pay out one million pounds to Ms Davidson.
Suppliers engineers arrived at 09:05 and I left them to overhaul the system as I checked on progress with the code. The programmers have been unable to track down any new bugs in the system, having checked 75% of the code.
When I returned to the machine room the suppliers requested that they be given permission to take up the floorboards and check the power supply. I suspected that they were flummoxed, but obtained permission from Mr McEwan at 10:05
At 11:00 hours permission was sought and given to take up the floorboards in the vault - the engineer's equipment having detected magnetic fluctuations which might cause disruption in the power supply.
Jim, the janitor, informed me that those particular boards had not been touched since at least the nineteen thirties.
NORTHERN ALLIED BANK SYSTEM AUDIT LOG : 24-01-99
11:50:04 SHOW IT TO EILEEN
11:50:05 SHOW IT TO EILEEN
11:50:07 SHOW IT TO EILEEN
11:50:08 Memory fault - core dumped
From the personal diary of John Douglas
I can't put this in the engineer's log - I'd be a laughing stock. I'm not even sure if I believe it myself.
I received a call from the suppliers just before noon and took delivery of a briefcase which had been found under the floor. It was very old and caked in dust and cobwebs, but the engraved name on it was clear - Mr Brian M McGuinness, Branch Manager.
It was only after I'd seen the case that I looked at the audit log. Five minutes later, on the excuse of grabbing some lunch, I was on the way to the Edenholme retirement villas.
Ms Davidson was very old and frail, but her eyes were clear and bright as she told her story.
They had been engaged, back then in the winter of 1938, her and her bank manager. The bank was being renovated to take on extra staff and provide a secure vault, Brian was going to get a large pay rise, and the wedding was set for July of the next year. And then there had been a scandal.
Brian was accused of fraud. Fifteen thousand pounds had gone missing, a fortune in those days. Brian protested his innocence, and cited documents in his briefcase as evidence.
But the briefcase was never found.
Eileen broke off the engagement, and Brian committed suicide in a police cell the night before his trial.
I could only watch as tears ran down her face. I left her with the briefcase and escaped as quickly as I could, embarrassed at the sight of such naked pain.
NORTHERN ALLIED BANK SYSTEM AUDIT LOG : 24-01-99
13:02:02 THANK YOU
13:02:03 THANK YOU
13:02:04 THANK YOU
13:02:05 Memory fault - core dumped
Engineers report : 24th Jan 1999
When I got back after lunch the suppliers assured me that the system was now stable. They had traced the magnetic fluctuations to an old communications cable. They isolated the flux and shielded the cable. Power supply now registers clean.
The system came through all hardware diagnostics cleanly and we ran a full set of test runs with no faults found.
Engineers report: 25th Jan 1999
System ran error free all day
Engineers report : 21st Feb 1999
System remains stable. Nothing to report
r /> From the Evening Express - 22/2/99
Passed away in her sleep, Ms Eileen Davidson, long standing resident of the Edenholme retirement villas. Funeral at the Causeway Cemetery, 10:30 am 24/2/99
No flowers please.
NORTHERN ALLIED BANK SYSTEM AUDIT LOG : 22-2-99
02:02:30 HELLO EILEEN
02:02:31 HELLO BRIAN
02:02:32 Memory fault - core dumped.
~-oO0Oo-~
The First Silkie
Long ago, and far to the north where the ice meets the sea and the great white bears prowl for unwary travelers, there was an island of sea-faring folk who were renowned for their prowess in fishing.
It is said that every time they took to sea their nets bulged heavy…so heavy that they had to throw back more than twice what they were able to carry. Nothing that swam in the seas was safe, for the men were so gifted that no shoal could hide from them. Across the seas of Midgard their sails blew tight in the spray, and their songs swelled with the wind as they hunted.
So big were their catches, so bountiful were their tables that their fame at last reached as far as Valhalla, to the halls of Odin himself. And even Odin, the master hunter, was in awe of the exploits that were related at his table. But the tales were so tall, seemingly so exaggerated, that the old God would not swallow them, for he had heard many tales over his long years, and was wise enough to know that the teller was just as important as the tale itself.
So he sent his son Loki to find out if the stories were true, for Loki was a teller of tall tales himself, and would know a lie if one faced him.
"Bring me the truth of it," Odin said, and Loki smiled sweetly, though the truth was little more than a passing stranger to the Trickster.
For long months he searched the circling sea, and many great and mighty things did he learn. And everywhere he went he heard tales of the great fishermen of the North, who had risen in greatness so far among the other seafaring folks that they might even be gods themselves.
And Loki saw this, and was enraged that mere fisherfolk might usurp the place of the mighty in the hearts of common men.
After long journeys he came to the land of the fishermen on a sunny day in summer and saw the nets bulging with the herring, the silver mounds filling the harbors and inlets for many leagues around.
And the townsfolk saw him, and took him in, and there was a great feast. Ragna, the King of the Fisherfolk, took Loki to his side at the high table, and there was much talk of fish and fishermen. The ale flowed freely, and talk grew loose.
"King Ragna," Loki said, rising from his seat at the table. "You are truly a great hunter. Surely Odin himself would not take so much in his nets."
Now Ragna, who cared little for the ways of the gods, grew boastful,
"No disrespect to your father lad, but he is a land hunter. No one is better on the water than I. I can catch anything that swims," he said.
Now Ragna’s daughter, Myrna, was a great beauty and Loki had his eye on her throughout the feast. So when Ragna made his boast, Loki laid his trap, for he had seen a way to take the girl, yet still explain himself back in Valhalla.
"I have a wager for you, King Ragna," the god said. "On the morrow we will take to the boats, and I will show you what I wish you to catch. If you succeed, I will promise to tell Odin himself that Ragna is the King of all Fisherfolk."
"And if I fail?"
"If you fail, I take the hand of your daughter Myrna, in marriage," the god said.
Now Ragna saw this as a wager where he could not lose, and the King and the god shook hands on the deal.
On the morrow they took to the water in the boats, and all the menfolk of the people went with them.
Loki took them to the south, to land’s they had never before fished, in seas they had never before sailed. And great was the bounty in the waters, where the shoals of herring stretched for miles and the whales dived in their hundreds.
"And what is it you wish us to catch, my lord," Ragna said to Loki. And Loki smiled, for he had a secret.
"I have a special catch for you this day, King Ragna." And suddenly, all around their boats, the heads of seals bobbed in the water, their plaintive cries echoing across the water.
"But these are no sport," the King said.
"Nevertheless, these are your wager," Loki replied.
So the fisherfolk went to it with gusto. They sang as they hauled the catches in, and soon their nets were full to the busting with the screaming seals. But their songs soon turned to wails, for as their catch left the water the seals began to change, into wives, and daughters, into mother and sister, the womenfolk of the fishermen, now all gasping for air.
"Like fish out of water," Loki said and laughed.
King Ragna ordered the catch put back, but he was too late, and the bodies of the dead floated around them. All save one, a single seal that sang a plaintive song of loss and sorrow as the men in the boats wept.
"It seems you have lost the wager King Ragna. It seems I have to tell Odin I am a better fisherman than you, for look…I have got myself a sea wife, your daughter, Myrna."
And Ragna, in his rage, lifted Loki from the deck, but the god merely laughed and changed his form to a huge black crow, whose cawing laugh echoed long after it had flown in to the north.
And Loki returned to Odin, and told a tale of how the fisherfolk had thought them selves above even Odin himself, and how he, Loki, had tricked them. But he did not tell of the deaths of the womenfolk, and although Odin knew there was a lie in the tale, he could not separate the bigger lie from the smaller one, and in time the affairs of Asgard took precedence over the affairs of men.
Far away in Midgard, Ragna made a new home, there where his daughter swam and sang. And great was the sorrow of the people, for without the womenfolk they grew old and died, and none followed them.
And it came to pass that King Ragna became an old, bent, man, and he was the last of his people. And with his dying breath he called down a curse on the sons of Loki…that they would come when one of Myrna’s blood called, that they would be father and protector of Myrna’s children, that they would be cursed to serve the very line that Loki had tried to erase.
And high in his halls, great Odin heard, and now he knew of Loki’s perfidy. So he sent to Myrna a song, a lay that would entice the sons of Loki. And even as King Ragna’s eyes were closing for the last time, he heard the song, and saw, on the beach, a seal turn into a man, a man called to be the first, first of the sea-husbands.
~-oO0Oo-~
Lucidity
You wake up.
The walls are tight and cramped around you causing you to crouch, knees bent and curved. The air is hot and dry, rasping at the back of your throat and burning your sinuses.
Your eyes are gummy with sleep but you can’t raise your arms to rub the sleep away. It is only then that you realise that you are handcuffed, the cold metal rubbing new welts into your wrists as you struggle.
You scream and the sound echoes back at you, again, and again until it finally fades and the silence returns, heavy and threatening.
As your eyes begin to adjust to the dark you notice two slits just below eye level - windows to the room outside. But beyond the slits all is dark and the room is silent. You moan and are comforted by the sound, any sound, anything that will tell you that you are still alive.
A sharp cramp hits the muscles of your calves, a deep heat that burns inside threatening to engulf your legs in fire. You try to straighten, if only a millimetre, but the top of your head comes up tight against cold metal, and as you struggle your prison begins to move and sway in time with your movements.
You, spin, encased inside the steel, and the motion causes your stomach to roll in turmoil. You choke back on the vomit and taste its greasy cold thickness on your tongue.
There is sound in the room outside your prison, the drawing of metal against metal. Through the slits you are vaguely aware of an orange glow, a heat that is moving ever closer. Blackness co
mes and takes you away.
And still your prison spins.
John woke, sweat smearing across his face, his chest and his feet. He lay curled on the left edge of the bed, and as he rolled over the needles and pins exploded in his left arm. He sat up in bed, panting heavily.
"Jesus Christ," he whispered softly.
That made it four nights in a row, each time a little more of the dream being revealed, and each time a little more trauma on awakening. He reached over and switched on the bedside light before picking up his notebook.
"I am getting closer," he wrote.
It started with the book two weeks before. He was in the library when an out of place book caught his eye.
"Lucid dreaming - unlock your innermost secrets."
He read it all in one sitting - there was something about the techniques mentioned that appealed to him. That first night he lay and stared at the ceiling, repeating the author’s phrase - I will remember, I will remember. A flashing light from beyond the curtains distracted him. At the same instant a vibration started in his legs, a pleasant, almost warm buzz that spread quickly up his body. When it reached his head his brain seemed to explode in white light, and when it faded, he was somewhere else. When he woke, he had only one memory. The word he wrote in his notebook was "CELL".
He’d practised every night since.
I’m getting close.
The next day passed in a daze. He couldn’t concentrate on his work and he was already thinking towards the night ahead. He went back to the books and for long hours forced himself to get lost in the columns of figures. He hadn’t realised that he’d fallen asleep until the vibration hit him in the chest and shook his body like an electric shock.
There is a sound in the room outside your prison, the drawing of metal against metal. Through the slits you are vaguely aware of an orange glow, a heat that is moving ever closer.
Your prisons spins and for two seconds there is only blackness and the ever-increasing cramps in your ankles, your calf muscles, your back. And the glow is closer, and with it comes heat, at first merely a tingling warmth which soon grows to a searing flame that brings beads of sweat to your brow, your palms and your chest.
Your prison spins. The orange slides off to your left but the heat is still there, at your back now, getting hotter still, then even hotter until the pain begins and the blackness takes you down and away once more.
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