A Software Cry

A SOFTWARE CRY

Dave Freeman pulled himself up in his chair, rubbed his eyes and reached for the mug. He stared briefly at the lukewarm dregs, swilled them round, drank and frowned deeply at the terminal. The accounts back-up was almost finished, green lines of disk info' scrolled slowly up the screen. It was almost ’11.00“ o'clock, he didn't usually stay late but the automatic back up had failed twice during the week and he still hadn't found a reason for it. The worst part was, he'd been away on a course and nothing had been done to resolve the problem. The transactions record had been left unrecorded for three days. Naturally, his first thought had been to check the computer event recorder, but all he'd been able to glean was the message:

EIRAMENNA.EXE

The message seemed to come just as the final block of information was recorded. On both occasions the message had copied itself over and over until the whole of the magnetic tape read only one thing. He could understand the .EXE, it was a label the computer would always attach, but the rest was puzzling.

He'd worked at Reynolds Finance when they'd first put there system in and he'd seen something similar before. The guys at concept had called it a 'worm', a self-perpetuating data virus dedicated to blocking off storage space. It hadn't taken long to clear it up, but this seemed different. It didn't occur during the day and it hadn't spread to system storage. It was solely interested in bugging the back-up.

Dave pushed back on his chair, got up and brushed his hair back and forth. There would be 10 minutes run time before he'd really have to start monitoring. He reached over, picked up his Marlboro Lights and walked away from the terminal.

He pushed the window ajar, lit up and tugged on the cigarette. He checked his watch, 11.04. Annie had bought the watch for him, it was a Longines Conquest in stainless steel. He sat back against the window sill, pushed the clip on the back of the strap and let it fall into his hand. The linked steel strap gleamed under the glare of the strip lights. He turned the watch over took a long drag on the Marlboro and read the inscription:
To David
Happy 24th
All my love
Anne-Marie

Annie was still away, she was at Edinburgh University visiting friends. She'd been away for a week: David wished she hadn't.

Placing the watch carefully back on his wrist, he pressed the clasp, it clicked, 11.06. He stubbed the cigarette out and turned around. He stared out of the window. It was November, the leaves had fallen from the trees, there was a clear moon and if it had been light outside he would have seen George Street, the market research institute, the library and one of the Leicester University halls of residence. It wasn't light, the moonbeams mixed with the fogbound streetlamps to shed a yellow translucence on the street, 11.09. David could just about see the research institute entrance. When Annie was home he'd meet her there most days. They would walk in the park, feed the ducks and talk: Annie was very bright. As he stared his eyes re-focused, he saw his own reflection, white shirt, tie, cropped brown hair. Behind him he saw the terminal with its messages in green, 11.10. Behind the screen he saw a dark haired girl, the girl had dark eyes, a smile flickered across her lips. As if in a dream his eyes saw the street again, then the reflections, the girl. He saw his own face, the disbelief. He started to turn, the reflection of the girl smiled. He turned. His jaw set firm, stomach twisted he glared at the terminal. One message was scrolling up the screen:

EMOCESAELP.EXE

The girl was not there. The message scrolled to a blur. The terminal flickered and went black. The hard drives, usually a high pitched whirr, moaned to a halt. The lights on the terminal junction box dimmed and winked out. Dave stood rigid. A draft of perfumed air. He took a deep breath, the perfume was Annie's.

" Annie are you here ?" He waited for a reply, nothing. " I don't believe it. I'm missing her so much I'm actually imagining she's here. " He knew she couldn't be, the doors were dead locked.

He sat down at the terminal and pressed a key, there was no response. Sudden realisation, Dave started flicking the switches for power, off on, off on, off on. Nothing; no lights , no hard drives, no message on the terminal. Maybe a total power failure, if so the uninterruptable power supply would normally keep the computer running while the emergency back up was produced. The power supply, under the desk: the computer was disconnected. Scrabbling at the back of the unit he found the plugs and pressed them into the ports. The terminal and hard drives powered up. Dave sat back in his chair.

" Help me God, total power loss with no back-up. That's three whole days: three days of accounts work, three days worth of transactions, all burned. Thousands of pounds....thousands of..." The words seemed to catch in his throat.

Scrabbling for the Marlboro Lights he lit one and sucked at the filter. Breathing blue smoke at the terminal, his hands shaking, he pressed the return key and waited for re-boot. Warning messages played across the screen. Logging in as systems admin staff he accessed the accounts directory. If the back-up had worked the computer would load the info' straight from tape. Dave glared at the terminal, bile rising in his throat, every file in the accounts directory said just one thing.

EMOCESAELP.EXE

Head in his hands, the only option was to load the last successful back-up. The last successful back-up was Monday's, the tape for that back-up was in the safe, he would have to wait till morning. How would he explain it?

" Sir, it was like this, a girl appeared out of nowhere, pulled the plug on the whole goddam system and disappeared again. " What a fine story. " What's more, the girl looked exactly like Anne-Marie, my girlfriend. " Hopeless.

Had it been just a reflection , just a figment of his over-tired imagination. He sucked once more at the Marlboro, logged off, picked up his case and left.


Dave lay awake, he wanted to tell somebody what had happened. He racked his brains trying to work out how to get in touch with Annie, she tended to be quite difficult to reach when she visited her friends. He never knew which friend to phone and at 12.15 he'd be pushing his luck trying to phone anyone. The flat seemed very quiet. He stared at the picture, her eyes shone brightly from the frame, she had long dark hair, a sweet smile. They would be married in the spring, they weren't engaged yet, but they'd talked about it, that was enough.

Six, four, three, eight he mumbled as he tapped in the code for the door. He sat down at the terminal, he'd come in early to make preparations for loading the back-up. He hadn't slept.

At 9.30 Monday's back-up was loaded. He collected the failed back-up tapes, ran of printed versions and picked up the phone to Mr Pegdon-Smith. Pegdon was a regional manager, forty eight, bald and fat.

" Ah: morning Freeman, I've been meaning to call, how was the d-base management course ? "

" It was fine. On Wednesday we covered value spectrums and deduping; on Thursday database construction and its uses in financial markets. Sir..... "

" And the hotel was good ? " The baratone boomed across the line.

" ....yes the room was okay, the food was good. You know hotels. Sir I....."

" Good, good. What is it, what can I do for you ? "

" Sir, can I see you in your office, this is very important ? "

" Yes of course, come right up. "

Dave put the phone down. He picked up the tapes and the printed copies. " Christ help me, here goes. "

Dave crossed the carpet towards the stairs, a voice called out behind him.


" Dave, a lady phoned for you on Tuesday and Wednesday. I told her you were on a course but she wouldn't leave a message. She said she would call back. " It was Steve, one of the banks internal mail men. Dave thanked him and turned again to the stairs.

" You realise what this means Freeman ? " The question was rhetorical, Pegdon was starting to redden. " You are in charge of the system and you have lost three days worth of work. " He spelt it out , clipping each word, increasing in volume at every syllable. " You can't tell me why ? You don't know why?"

" Sir I, the tapes and read-out are here. I don't know what to say. The power just bottomed out; I don't know how it happened; the plugs were in one minute and out the next. The whole system went down...." Dave looked despairingly at Pegdon. " Please I..."

" I'm surprised at you son. You've really made a mess of things. " Pegdons face had paled, he looked tired. " I can hardly believe my ears. You're suspended. Get out. " Pegdon looked away.

Dave heard the words ring in his ears. He stared down at the read-outs, they faced towards Pegdon. One sheet read nothing but:

EIRAMENNA.EXE

the other:

EMOCESAELP.EXE

Dave felt suddenly hot, the letters seemed to say something. Upside down they seemed to make sense, he could read them, left to right. He walked from the office. Outside, leaning back on the wall the words burned in his mind:

ANNEMARIE PLEASECOME PLEASECOME PLEASECOME

The day was bright and cold. Dave stood, head lowered, tears blurring his view of George Street. She was gone. Her mother had called. Killed in a stupid car accident, police said it was the drivers fault.

" She wanted to see you David, it was the last thing she asked for. "

The accident happened on Tuesday night, almost 11 o'clock.


" She died in the ambulance David. I'm sorry, we tried to reach you, you were away."

She had passed away at 11.10.

" She was trying to reach me...." Dave began to lift his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. the wind across the roof seemed to whisper to him.

" I'm here David, come with me, come to me. "

Dave Freeman stepped from the ledge, the sun, the blue sky and the sharp cool air. The arm encircled his waist; George street rushing towards him. A hand clasped over his; he could see the library. He could see the research institute entrance; he could see Anne-Marie; she was there.