online fiction: Hacktivism End Game - complicit simplicity

These links will take you directly to the chapters, skipping any back-story elements. You can reach this index at any time - ComplicitSimplicity.info


The first four chapters, are on this page.

Chapter 1 - Hacker's Complacency Lost

Chapter 2 - Long Shadows

Chapter 3 a&b - Battle On Two Fronts

Chapter 4 a&b - Modifying The Future

Once you've finished this page, there will be big arrows pointing at a link to chapter 5.

Chapter 5 - The Lion and The Hyenas

Chapter 6 a&b - Punkk Kidd & Comic Book Heroes

Chapter 7 - Human Rights and Liberty: Complicit Simplicity

Chapter 8 - Final Preparations

Chapter 9 - A Young Entrepreneur's Business

Chapter 10 - Why Hackers Hack

Chapter 11 - Travel and Travail

Chapter 12 - Ambush?

Chapter 13 - Relationship Advice For Hackers

Chapter 14 - Border Town, Capitol City

Chapter 15 - Happy Hackers At Work

Chapter 16 - Hackers Game

Chapter 17 a&b - A Complex Dance

Chapter 18 - Hacking The Kingdom

Chapter 19 - Educating A Prince

Chapter 20 a&b - famous last words

Chapter 21 - Plotting Synthesis

Chapter 22 - Revolution Tonight!

Chapter 23 - CS Technology Code

Chapter 24 - A Survivor's Dance

FIN

Complicity Universe - Creating Art Your Way in a Developing Universe

Write a story so we can read it, code a game so we can play it, or create art so we can go -- wow!

There is a five chapter prequel to this work, *hacktivist*.

Big Arrows will follow chapters 4 through 23 to direct you to the next chapter. Each lens contains supportive material, but you can read the story straight through without it.

*enjoy*

Chapter 1

The sunset had exploded across the sky like the flare of a moth venturing too close to a flame. Then it lingered, as ashes of its nova moment scattered and dimmed.

The soporific sensuality of the sunset must have poisoned my perceptions. The message I finally start decrypting begins: "delay equals death."

I don't remember dying. A serious error had been made by Prince Pahl's assassins guild. The rest of the coded message will offer first steps to escape, now almost certainly a trap. I'm wedged and must immediately get off the target. Those ill fortune darts could be flying my way any second, or to make sure, a blast might level the entire block.

Prince Pahl can always blame his enemies for the destruction, the greater the force applied; the greater the supportive backlash for his government. His Brotherland Security Forces believe I am easily worth a city block. They are right.

Complacency. I must have become sloppy in my counter surveillance.

Facing unknown threats is like waking up on a clear morning, it is never too late to savor life. Life is art, every special feature of my home now stands out in enhanced clarity. I hope I haven't subconsciously dallied in complacency, seeking stimulus. My vulnerability is real, exploiting it for thrills will shorten my life, may have already shortened it. If such subliminal desires exist, I must eradicate them.

I key escape sequence three, grab a bug-out-bag that looks like my usual brown portable office case, exit. If I am to obliquely drift toward the dusk of opacity, I must first clear the flash zone. Speed. Distance. Then merging with a moonless expanse of abused citizens.

The infrastructure hacks are done, there is no need to stay close. I'll consider how I was found after my escape attempt.

A quick dictation to 'tronics for immediate dispatch to HackNet: "Prince Pahl's chancellors are lethally worried by my activities. I can't bug-out permanently now. I'll retreat, then return. The loss of my contact is cause enough to continue, a declaration of personal war. Their bureaucratic fortresses have made them overconfident. If I'm lost, cause an encrypted announcement to ring fourth: Notify the hacker legions; Pahl is vulnerable."

My legacy may best survive as prolonged assaults on despotism. My embers may be all that remain to illuminate and inspire.

New tricks are always appearing from an aspiring magician's hat. Dark magic is best countered by deep magic. The difficulty comes in retaining and using the glow of victory. For now, survival is enough, but if that battle is won -- it will be time to prepare for dawn's battle.

I need to plan.

Like I have taught at Hacker School: Eliminating evil governments, without having viable social replacements ready, is not anarchy; it is ignorance. Vast governance vacuums quickly fill with ravenous little minds of bureaucrats, the worst of criminals. They murder both time and productivity, improving nothing. Removing dull bureaucratic zombies from governance, as the prime motivators of oppression are removed, requires adaptable strategy. I'll need help.

Before I arrive at my Thought Castle my current persona as William T. Johnson will finish distorting and disappearing from the world's networked data bases. Already my digital signature has started to morph. Recorded biometrics twist in photos, voice and finger prints, and within my DNA sequence. All are changing in interconnected digital systems toward images of a person dead for years. Before data reaches congruence with that life, they will be deleted. Any ghost of memory mined will present corrupted information leading to dark, dead end alleys where vengeful cyberpunks lurk.

Soon the last mention of Bill Johnson will be a lease on my rooms, that vanishing after my effects are picked up by charity.

While leaving the building a doorman tips his hat and relays an uncharacteristic formal goodbye to Mr. Johnson; as if he realizes it's the last time. The big indicator is demeanor, the doorman briefly stares as if fascinated, then glances off to his right. He does not make an offer to hail a taxi. I nod to him even as I palm my keyring stunner at his unintended warning.

Creating a new life is easier and faster than transmogrifying relics of an old identity. Already, interconnected databases are filing ostensibly original data - from birth certificates to required public copies of home videos. In a short time, I will have always been known as Jonathon Christforth. A new life has been manufactured - sunrise has arrived.

Let's see if I can keep this Jon feller alive.

Chapter 2

As the door opens, Prince Pahl turns quickly from the shield widow. "My own reflection distorts the view through the window," he thinks, "but it is my royal self my people love, everything else is just bureaucracy." The prince doesn't consider why shield glass and a fortified compound are needed to protect him from loving subjects; or how they can't protect him from military coup or noble inspired regicide.

"What is it Scar," Prince Pahl asks asf the tall, slightly-disfigured, professor type enters the room. Pahl smiles with pleasure in using the pejorative favored by the people as he addresses his advisor. Pahl would be less pleased if he knew the secretary also enjoys the disparaging nick name, despite his apparent indifference. The small facial wounds had been received when a coup had chased him from the kingdom. Scarlettia, had not had them removed, they were too valuable as a warning, except to his vain but useful puppet.

"There is a need for your imperial presence in the video room. We had to destroy a northern village when a woman was caught gathering herbs in your royal hunting preserve. We had village survivors plant trees where their village had stood, and then scattered the people to various cities as laborers. To quell rumors, a video script of a royal news conference has been written for your approval; to be broadcast as soon as possible."

the princeling whined a reply. "just last week we celebrated the fact this sort of thing no longer happens. It is times like this I miss my father most, he was always so sure of himself. I can't see why we don't show a kinder face to our subjects."

"What matters is your acting today, yours is the face of our country. Emotions, not facts, convince. The sheep can be counted on to bleat and repeat your words, refusing to consider any contradictions - they are your party - you own them. A controlled opposition will shout protests of provided words. Official forbearance of reaction reflecting well on your reputation for tolerance.

The remaining mass of people are your cows: branded by their educations, then penned to be milked. They will loyally bear whatever fate your wisdom instigates on their behalf."

Pahl considers this, then nods his head. "I feel their subservience, yet am somehow aware that dangerous change lurks in unpierced shadows.

Scar scoffs "Your barnyard is pacified and watched by lethal mastiffs. Who would dare oppose you?"

"What of elk, and others of undomesticated mind?"

"Elk fight or flee because of your usurping their hollow & self-hallowed rights. They never consider your right to do as you wish with their lives. We have eliminated many of these elk, others have been allowed to escape through our fences and enter less efficient principalities. The elk remainder are hiding themselves from your well deserved wrath, all that is left are a few complaining goats."

"I am uncomfortable that you seem to enjoy these goat purges a bit too much, especially since you have already eliminated the most dangerous animals."

"Your best interests are my chief concern excellency. The people have been educated to follow authority, they expect any semblance of defiance to be crushed. They know those we crush are evil -- because we crush them."

After a moment to compose a proper reply, Prince Pahl stated grandly; "We of course must protect our loyal herds from interbreeding with feral goats."

Scar nods as if at Pahl's wisdom, and the counselor now further directs the conversation. "To continue our play with your excellent beasts analogy, there is a lion loose in the kingdom."

"What's this, a pretender after my throne and you have not apprehended him?"

"The arrest or necessary elimination will happen this evening; we have lion traps dug along his familiar trails. But he is not a pretender to the throne, it is worse than that. He is one of those generic hacker busybodies that are interfering with legitimate and recognized governments like your own. Their effects can appear anywhere, they consider themselves individually sovereign, acting on their own or as tiny cells they call teams."

Scar continues in a satisfied tone, "When this lion is captured we will bleed the location of his compatriots from him, If we are unable to effect our capture plan we will simply add his ashes to the nearest city's communal grave without ceremony. I am unconcerned about his individual effect; but we do not want a pack of aggrieved crackers descending on our citizen management and control systems in retribution. This will be done without publicity, tonight the lion simply disappears."

Changing his stance Scar adds "I've made arrangements for our lead hacker to join us; with your permission I'll go to the hall and command him enter."

"I never fully understand these hackers Scar, they bend creativity to entertain themselves, not just to obtain goals."

"True sire, using a dismissive term like meatspace for the reality we live in is confusing. They first play with words because they live in two realities; their writing of computer code has created another world with another language, a virtual world with attributes that extend toward fantasy. Sometimes they make the fantasy real. The second reason is they are a profession and have professional words to separate themselves and exclude all others - just like diplomats and bureaucrats. There are probably more than three reasons, but the third would be they are artists. They know many ways to present their art, their code, they vary language as a mode of expression."

"That is all very well Scar, but I still find hackers tedious. I guess I could say the same for most diplomats, doctors of any discipline, and bureaucrats. Humanity is too large and diverse to constantly embrace, maybe these specialist tribes are necessary on some emotional level. Show the man in."

The Prince has time for another quick appreciation of his reflection in the shield glass before his minister returns leading a colorfully bedraggled character into the room, his shirt has square creases in it, like it had just been removed new from a package. "Perhaps that is the only way he can know it is clean," Pahl thinks.

With a bow to the prince, and an elbow into the side of his companion to tell him to bow deeper, Secretary Scarlettia introduced his charge. "Your highness, this is your loyal servant 'hemlock', head of your data security team."

Pahl nods in his practiced regal fashion, but can not bring himself to approach his subject any closer. "So, ah, Hemlock; how are we progressing on our projects to protect the principality?"

"'my playmates keyed a semi-obviosity in meatspace that a new bafflegab genericist is hiding time-bombs set to munge offline data, so scar is duct-taping him'. Without a pause Hemlock changes from Hackish to English. "However, I believe this generic's entire program is now being released; we are working to ferret it, but his capture should make detection and removal easy."

Taken back a bit by the informality, but appreciative of this subject's willingness to do cyber-battle, Prince Pahl thanks and dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

Prince Pahl looks at the usually talkative First Secretary. "I'm bored with this technology business, just see to it and report results. I'm off to the taping room, I wonder why they call video, taping? You are dismissed."

Scarlettia smiles at the retreating back of his prince. Scar's thoughts would not comfort the arrogant young ruler. As the audience chamber's doors close, Scar's eyes morph in color to the flat black of death's cloak. These are eyes that watch the speaking of last requests, while his ears hear nothing. "Stay ignorant of technology you fool, and I will control your principality at my whim."

Chapter 4

When pursued most generics attempt to blend into an always present poor quarter. It is at the borders between income levels that the greatest risks, and the greatest freedoms, can occur. Once safely ensconced within the center of poverty, every official eye is self-protectively turned away. Reference to the poor may be made in manipulative and pious terms by ruling elites; but politicos ignore their dependent tools, trapped in poverty by their policies.

Pretending to love humanity, those with transient power hate individuals, reminders of their ephemeris delusions. Maneuvering human emotions like game pieces toward devious end games, they disregard their own imminent end. There are rich and powerful in every society. The more free a society the more they have reason to be proud; the less free, the greater the stench.

This time Jon will not embrace lady poverty. After his sojourn in Thought Castle, Jon simply changes his prior styles and habits, for instance becoming a tea drinker instead of a beer sipper. Jon has moved up ladder so high he is sure to be out of sight. Hiding by being obvious; an ignored repeat resident in the luxury of a sprawling 5 star hotel campus on the coast.

Even the hotel's official Paparazzi ignore Jon sitting quietly in a conversation pit, by an empty fireplace, alone with his tea. After all, records show he has occasionally been a long term guest. Never has there been a profitable or official request for his information.

Jon does not silently reminisce for long, his remaining tea still hot as his contact approaches. She knows he used hacker networks to seek a team to assist him in Elldee, but there are several filters for each to pass through before specifics will be discussed.

He of course recognizes her; even with her long brown hair piled loosely on her head, wearing makeup that deemphasizes her face's distinctive features, her presentation complete in a simple beige suit that hides curves. Not knowing her current name, or if she wants to be close, he knows the conversation will start benign.

Her 'tronics are automatically checking the area as his had done. Noting the location of the pinhole camera, she sits with her back to it, passing the first interview filters, casual competence and control.

For a moment Jon is lost in memories. The joy of those few years washes through him, even as the sudden destruction of love and life threatens to overwhelm him. All that shows externally is a slight sigh, a blurring of the eyes as they focus elsewhere. Inside he slams shut a door, blocking a grief he feels inadequate to confront. His calm returns.

"Are you a speaker at the convention?" She asks, "I think I heard your talk."

"No," Jon replies evenly, "Just a business owner playing by the sea after a product launch. Is it a business convention? I attend those occasionally. I enjoy the learning and community, I guess it's time to attend another." She now knows he still needs a hacking team, and it is for an ongoing project. He is sure she knows why he is acting so restrained.

She sits down across from Jon, "May I?" she asks. At Jon's nod she injects an excuse into their incipient conversation. "I've had some mashers pursuing me, if they think I fell for your big sincere eyes maybe they'll leave me alone. It's a micro-learning convention, hosted by the Natural Enterprise Cooperative. I'm to meet a fellow conventioneer here, waiting with you should keep those others from intruding."

So she is ready for a project, and she represents part of a team. Jon knows Brenda well; she is the older sister of Janice, one of the most creative ethical hackers he had known. Brenda had been maid of honor at his and Jan's wedding. She had also been a good friend. She has to have know he will be the one she is meeting, but he detects conflicting emotions within her also.

Brenda was not a generic at the time of the wedding, but had her own business in international travel. She only knew Jon by the persona he wore at the time, Billy Goodman. Billy and Jan met when Hacker School was raided. During their 'working' honeymoon, they became widely know as travel writers. The Goodmans' articles inspired envy as they journeyed in widely followed rapture around the world. (Her hacker handle was Aurora Phoenix, his hacker handle Knight Watchman.)

The world thinks The Joyful Travelers died in one of the separatist revolutions that dissolved most nation states. Jan died an unsung heroine of freedom; the carefree joys of life died for Billy at the same time. Billy/Jon has worked at segmenting their hacking attributes since her death. He has performed software hacks under the Aurora Phoenix handle, continuing her legacy, and as Knight Watchman he has taken credit when hacking into hardware.

Jon's split personality hacking started as a memorial, but morphed into a protective delusion. Under questioning Jon intends only to eventually admit to being be a Knight Watchman disciple, describing Knight Watchman as he saw himself when he was Billy, not as other's see him now. If he is peeled deeper his torturers might be satisfied to discover he is fully Knight Watchman. His software, and the freedom fighters he protects with it, might remain undiscovered in a separate and disconnected file folder of his mind.

The pain of his wife's passing was part of what had turned Jon from a talented generic to a dedicated one. That relationship was now several personas ago, on another coast, on another continent. He has not seen Brenda since. Jon once again shuts and now locks that same mental door. He does not want memories of Janice clouding his reasoning, his emotions, or his eyes.

"Oh," she says. "I don't have my convention name tag on," showing the corner of one in her clutch, "I'm Gloria."

"I'm Jon. It's a pleasure to meet you." Well worn phrases will sound authentic to any unknown listeners. Gloria has her sister's empathetic eyes, their depth and sincerity stir up memories within him. Jon witnesses himself quickly constructing an entire barrier wall to the searing emotions that threatening to disgorge a forbidden trespass of unrelieved sorrows. This could get serious.

Brenda hesitates, then continues as if she doesn't observe his inner conflicts. "My friend should be here soon, Mose and I are going to walk up the beach and find a good omelet, do you know of a decent restaurant?" Gloria rambles a bit - nice cover for a sharp wit. "It's an education convention, I sell accelerated technical learning, self paced of course." She pretends to gush, "as a business person you have probably taken a XeMax intense study course."

Great work, Jon thought as he once again wins control. An efficient educator had now bored any listener - they have heard sales talk before. Labels are important, fall into a generic folder and you will be mentally sorted, filed, and ignored. "I've taken a few XeMax overnight language courses, and used your specialist tutoring services," he responds.

Gloria already knows Jon has a project, she also understands he wants to learn the parameters of her prior generic ventures. Jon knows her approach was due to the strings of reputation he is pulling; trying to drag closer hackers and crackers to counter forces opposing him. It is time to quit fighting alone. Forming a team for exploiting vulnerabilities is reasonable. Especially when unrestrained violence offered by Pahl's internal police promises opportunities to bring down his evil government.

Since Gloria knows Jon, she knows any project will be challenging, helping others as much or more than it rewards them. They both know his favorite quote: "Challenges that exceeded my understanding," he reminds himself often, "are how I chose to grow; embracing and managing risks rather than trying to avoid danger."

Gloria's next words might seem full of promise, or devoid of meaning. "Business is a satisfying pleasure for me, a chess game where any of the pieces can move themselves at any time. Some pieces may be removed from this board to another, but remaining pieces can offer support to those still in play." Looking away from Jon she nods her head and comments: "Here comes my friend Mose, perhaps you would like to join us for brunch."

The shield device displayed is for The Wallace, Braveheart's clan crest.

The Maturing Of Man - drifting beyond the Age Of Coherence.

There is no going back.

In earlier centuries, insightful individuals might mature past limiting coherence. By the twenty third century, entire societies reorganized as their constituent's interests fragmented -- coherence lost.

Courage empowers. To become valuable you must advance yourself.

Mankind entered adolescence, a time of confusion. Untethered, personal identity drifted away from familial tribe and national allegiance toward tribes of similar interests. And beyond. Technology awakened awareness of unlimited choice, options in the trillions. Where shackles were successfully broken new relationships were sought. Not as children needing direction, but as discrete adults considering map and compass, setting their own course.

The Federation Of Liberated Cantons is not a nation, nor does it govern. The FLC is an optional assemblage of adults agreeing to mind their own business.

Jon, Mose, and Gloria are apparently sauntering casually down the boardwalk. Three nondescript business people blending with those in beach attire and similar casual wear. In the subtext of their discussion they are exchanging references to be used for establishing their reputations.

Their conversation has a rather stream-of-consciousness pattern, one topic seemingly leading to another by free association. No need to parse their words and phrases, all can be explained at the level they understand, not what those listening in with sound probes might hear. Woven in are mutual contacts for generic hackers like themselves; hacktivist fundraisers and organizers like Midas; projects and principalities they have worked; and related hacking teams usually referenced by names of historic hacking innovators like Condor and Pandora.

When they return to their individual privacy they will each check the illumination provided before any further information will be exchanged. they can do this immediately, but transmissions from all three while they are just chatting will draw the wrong type of attention to themselves.

The opportunity to draw the right sort of attention presents itself in a surprising way.

Gloria uses her eyes to get the others of the troika to look ahead and to the right. A lady in a dress of quiet colors with a couple kids and some shopping bags is on a bench carefully watching passerby. Her position is just before the boardwalk widens into a park, pier, and restaurant row. Close to the lady, and stridently ignoring her are three teenagers, but they are stationed so one can always notice her.

"We have a Fagin working the boardwalk." Gloria murmurs, "If we want those kids to grow up to be responsible hackers, we should intervene." Gloria glances again, and tests the boundaries of her proposed leadership. "How shall we handle her?"

"Nice spot, you call it" says Jon as if he is talking about which restaurant to select.

At that point a child of nine or ten leaves a small store and sits by the woman - he drops something into one of her bags. "Clever," says Mose, "she can claim she knows nothing, and I imagine the teenagers set up distractions so the kids can grab a purse or wallet that will also go into her bags."

The teens start doing stunts on their flip boards. As if to prove Mose right the woman whispers to the children, who then move off to claim purses and small shopping bags that aren't tightly clutched.

Gloria chooses to act quickly "I don't think a confrontation is necessary, I'll drop into this shell shop and have the owner contact their mercenary security center - they can tape and correlate the gang's actions and put together a nice package. We will be caught on camera too; but it will re-enforce our current personas of being on the side of good - another piece of positive data rounding our generic constructs. 'Gloria' is a private security agent trying to become a business woman."

"Protecting business," smiles Jon, "that's a nice blend, and 'Fagin' provides a good play. It will be nice to give those kids a chance at something better. Not all criminals worth stopping are in government, its just that government provides a more cohesive racket."

Mose can't keep the surprise from his voice "I thought you would wade in and subdue the teens and the Fagin, holding them for security while you comforted the children."

"In the past I might have, but I'm no longer a business owner; and I don't have time to ensure the adults get the treatment justice requires, or the children a mercy that hope inspires. I'll let the locals build their own nests, raise their own young. This is a reasonable canton - they will handle this fairly well without my fighting battles for them."

"How are you so sure?" Jon asks.

"The shopkeepers have their own security, not distant police. These yellow signs say they use arbitration or mediation if possible, not courts. The shops are well maintained. They have added mosaics, fountains, and sidewalk art in front of their stores and restaurants to encourage potential customers. Shopkeepers step out and greet passers by, not in a perfunctory hello to every third person, but as friendly people seeking interaction. There is every indication these are natural enterprises that know how to mind their businesses."

Before she turns into the shop Gloria adds. "I wouldn't do this in Elldee. The woman and teenagers would be tortured and killed, and the children would have short lives as forced laborers. Injustice makes for difficult choices. In Elldee we might be forced into slavery too, just for reporting this crime - bad governments hate people that think, speak out, and act."

Mose asks, " what could be done in Eldee?"

"We could act like undercover cops, and scare away a theft ring, if we found one in Eldee. Thieves are more likely to be robbers there, using decisive violence to achieve ends, reflecting their educated concept of justice."

As Gloria exits the shell shop Mose catches her eye and inclines his head toward some outdoor tables. "That seafood place looks good, and not too stuffy, let's try there. I like the waterfall screen they've added. The water offers a pleasant sound, discourages reading our lips, and lets us unobtrusively people watch. We can keep an eye on your little gang, I want to see how good the herd mistress is at picking out fodder for her grazing children."

"Sounds good, we will have our chowder started before security has enough video and audio footage to round them up."

The trio settles at their table as Mose takes great pleasure in pointing out the professionalism of the ring-leader. The young thieves' mentor does not pick victims by simple keys such as clothing, jewelry, watches or hair styles, she is obviously a graduated student of the streets. She has her prots steal from well selected victims based on their lack of awareness and potential for aggression.

When security closes in Fagin recognizes them and has the fledglings scatter. Security is also well trained, ignoring the feints they pick up Fagin and the teens. The younger children will be found later wandering in the area. There is still hope for the kids to avoid what their elders have earned.

The three privateers return their attention to their meal, and to a general conversation that has many layers of meaning. Despite their experience, there is always excitement at the start of a risky venture. Jon, Gloria, and Mose are immersing themselves in concious awareness of what might be their last days of freedom, or life.

After the meal and intricate conversation our threesome quietly sits, watching unscripted pierfront surges and interludes. Jon's comment counterpoises the dangerous journey ahead. "Life is meant to be art. As artists we observe, gather, and craft our lives."

Gloria smiles, "This is good art."

The original outline. Like a movie, the novel is not fully true to the guidelines. Once the story started, Gloria, Jon, and Mose took over. Hackers End Game is their adventure.

To discover the world Complicit Simplicity operates in, visit the open content Complicity Universe.

Complicit Team Members

Financier: A generic person using the name Midas, perhaps with a sideways glance toward Atlas Shrugged. Guessing at his motives jumps unresolved along a continuum between altruism and setting up our heroes to be scapegoats. The question persists, is Midas a manipulator or a facilitator? Midas chose the three members of the generic team, blending their reputations and pasts.

Technician: Jonathon Christforth is a quiet and contemplative generic. Naturally gregarious, he is drifting toward solemn isolation since a personal loss. He describes himself as dedicated, others see him as driven. Deep passions exist within Jon, how will they express themselves if permitted to arise?

Strategist: Gloria Portola has become adept at disguise, mainly to hide her beauty, avoiding unwanted attention. An in motion policy surgeon, attempting to keep Complicit Team A, as Midas has named them, on track; even as tracks change. Tending to be impious, she can turn iconoclastic when encountering hypocrisy. Gloria can dominate a room if circumstances warrant.

Labyrinth guide: Mose Ramsees is an ex-bureaucrat, perhaps reformed bureaucrat is a better description. Generics are often tinted with idealism, Mose is saturated. Using his knowledge of the twisted inner workings of bureaucracies and their convoluted policies, Mose uncovers express routes where bureaucrats intended to install roadblocks. When the team needs a face to present, Mose is a pleasant representative. There is nothing memorable about Mose, hair, ears, smile, height - everything is soft and average. If Mose wears a hat, he is remembered only as the guy with the hat, wearing a patterned ascot, he is a guy with an ascot, if Mose changes the handkerchief poking out of his blazer's pocket he suddenly becomes a very different person.

Complicit Team Relationships:

Jon and Mose have a fractious relationship even though they agree on many levels. Mose sees how things should be, and maneuvers for a victory that makes them so. Jon sees many possibilities, and wants to direct events toward high probability solutions. Their fraternal interplay is between chess player and game theory advocate.

Jon and Gloria share several deep emotional bonds, but guardedly seek to retain freedoms and restraint that result from staying aloof. The result is a spinning bottle that threatens to point suddenly to hidden emotions.

Gloria and Mose have been partnered before, with Midas acting as a producer in more than one of their ventures. Like Jon's solo efforts, results of their productions have toppled power structures and helped raise visionary leaders.

Gloria is director, and it is her vision and insights that must fuse three independent lightning bolts into a single directed strike.

"The average man is a conformist, accepting miseries and disasters with the stoicism of a cow standing in the rain." - Colin Wilson

Jon, Gloria, and Mose are not ordinary people and they are certainly not conformists. What will this triumvirate do when they are sent to help transform a totalitarian city-state, and discover an opportunity to make one of themselves it's reigning savior?


Complicit Team's Opposition:

The obvious opposition is the prince. A fine looking and intelligent man, he is driven by a need for recognition. His public appearances are flamboyant and very well staged, he looks every inch the prince that all should feel drawn to follow.

The real power of the principality lies in the prince's advisors. They have the pragmatic experience he lacks, and he pays close attention to their apparent wisdom. After all, a man can only know so much, his job is to represent the best possible governance to his people, no matter where the ideas originate.

The real power of the advisors is a self-serving former leader of the principality. Having arranged a putsch while in exile, it was he who arranged to have Prince Pahl anointed and crowned. Getting a great deal of exposure as the world's Representative of Los Diego, Secretary Scarlettia is careful to stay out of any line of fire if another coup should take place. Content to have power and profit consolidated in his position, Scarlettia maneuvers to retain second place in the race for popularity.

Whatever the future - Scarlettia intends to remain in control - at whatever cost - to others.

Grabbing attention.

"If you want to change people, you must create enough leverage to encourage the change to happen. Books change lives every day." - Seth Godin


An important reason for using Squidoo is the support of fellow lensmasters. Word of mouth for a novel like Complicit Simplicity starts with word of mouse. The Squidoo community is be valuable because of their eagerness to share. I wrote this in the Squidoo forum:


Stephen King in his book, On Writing, says he writes all of his books to his wife. She is his target, his intended reader.

Since reading that, I've tried to picture my intended reader. My family and I talk about ideas I write about, so they only occasionally read what I've written. I've occasional beta readers that help make pieces I've written coherent, but I'm not writing to them. No others are consistent enough, or known well enough by me, to properly aim my scrawling.

On reflection, my intended reader must be Squidoo Lensmasters.

In composite, you read my writing and comment on it. I get healthy criticism and an occasional note of "You blew it here." You seem to laugh at the right places, and gasp just when the stories twist, unless I missed my target. You support me.

My composite image of fellow lensmasters is formed by specific individuals, Jaguar Julie, Spook, Chef Keem, and Mini, many more. Giant organizers, angels, mentors, and Squidoo staff - all that respond are a lever for creation. Looking at what I've written, it is apparent I'm writing to you. I mentioned your value in a lens early last year, but I'm only now coming to realize how important to me you are.

What I write is not intended for those that lack desire to grow. It helps so much to have your well developed thirst for learning accept or reject my concoctions. You are my Intended Reader.

I'm on sabbatical, so I only occasionally have computer time available to visit Squidoo. But I am becoming aware that even when I write off net, I'm writing to you.

Tnx



There are over a hundred thousand lensmasters, and they have created over a million Squidoo lenses. Squidoo also has good "Google juice." That means this lens and its links will rank high in search engines for Complicit Simplicity, sovereign hacker, ethical hacker, hacker game and other key phrases once the novel is published. But by far the greatest value of Squidoo is found in the individual lensmasters.


The right meat space book agent can also be of significant value, but I lack that connection, and honestly I'm not looking for an agent - yet.

For now, I will take my notes and re-organize them here in a hopefully palatable manner. At some point a formal book proposal may be created; sure to be followed by a blizzard of rejection notices. For now I have three hackers; Gloria, Jon, and Mose that want their story told. They will also are the anticipated basis for three collaborative prequels.

Everyone has a compelling story. There are tens of millions that can tell their story well, and perhaps millions have put "pen to paper" or "fingers to keyboard" and started.. Knowing these odds, I still plan to persevere if I decide to market my book. My warmed-over manuscripts will have to challenge icy receptions - searching for the joy of thaw in which a perceptive book publisher and I can derive a negotiated thermal equilibrium.


In the present, the weather on the internet for web fiction is improving.


Perhaps I don't need an agent or publisher. As Thoreau said: "Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after." I've enjoyed tossing my chapter synopsizes online - now the whole condensed book of Complicit Simplicity is available for you. The first edit is done, the first rewrite will start when I return from sabbatical. Someday I will complete my project having learned something of my capabilities, or lack thereof, as an author. At the least I will learn.

I've been asked if I'm afraid my ideas will be stolen since they are outlined in such a public place.

Ideas are easy. Someone could take my characters, plot, and theme; change venue and genre, and create a murder mystery on a tropical island with transient tribes. They would then add their own touches. Even I would not recognize similarities. Authors would be wise to do that adaption with a great novel rather than with my efforts at creating a breakout novel. Herman Melville's Moby Dick has served as a template for hundreds of novels, and I've heard folks discuss where they think Melville got his ideas.

"All my best thoughts were stolen by the ancients." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Find your own voice.


It is an author's work ethic and quality of execution that matter. Depth of characterization and creation of a worthy story that compel attention are not easy. For those few that find it so - they do not need to steal my ideas - instead I bask in their success.

I've finished adding chapters to Complicit Simplicity the first draft is done, the first edit complete.

Complicit Simplicity is the story of a quest, set in the future, in what I suppose could be called a transitional dystopia. But it won't be called that in Complicit Simplicity - how 'bout bad times, trying to get better.

I want you to enjoy reading Complicit Simplicity, not study it.

Add comments, criticisms , and links to your derived works in guest books that accompany each chapter ( as long as they are work and family friendly). Let's enjoy this merry-go-round.

We can intelligently discuss Complicit Simplicity, current events (finance business, politics), raising money for charity; in fact most things -- but I'm happily ignorant of contemporary music, modern art, TV, or movies.

Let's try to limit personal appearances to Southern California for now. Once Complicit Simplicity is published I may make the rounds. For telephone or print interviews, use my "contact me" link in my bio at the top of the page. You can also ask questions or make suggestions in the guest book below.


Here are some sample questions you may want to ask. Of course it's your show, I'll respond to just about anything. I'll be adding to this list and changing it frequently.

I understand you are writing a book called complicit simplicity tell us about it.

Is writing a book something you have always wanted to do?

Why write about the future, isn't the present or the past interesting enough?


My answers to these questions won't be canned, but I'll be prepared to give entertaining and provocative answers.

You write about the need to keep an open mind, does your writing a book indicate your mind is starting to close?

In your book people use a new currency based on commodities - do you think the dollar will die, or perhaps a one world financial system will emerge?

You touch lightly on religious issues in the book, mainly to warn about keeping an open and tolerant mind. Don't you have your own opinions?

Some areas where I've written quite a bit of material might be worth exploring. If you don't know how I would treat a particular subject, contact me and we can discuss it.

You've been a small business consultant, what do you think is the future of business?

You write a lot about how modern education systems fits past, not present or future needs of students. What would you change to make learning more effective?

You have admitted that writing about the future is a guessing game that few do well, why are you trying? What major changes do you see coming?

We might want to add a few questions about my educational endeavors, make your questions sharp if you wish.

You started a free online university, Bastiat Free University, what benefit can BFU offer if there are no degrees available?

You have outlined a peer to peer educational system, the Netcohort Institute. Can I build a course that others could take - why should I?

You have maintained college degrees and certificates may become less valuable, that a reputation for innovation, integrity, and action will become ever more important. Does that mean attending college is less important now - or is this something for a hundred or thousand years from now.

Let's do some entertaining, and both learn a bit while doing it.

enjoy life

Allan

return to top of page.

Click on this web-fiction link to read chapter five of Complicit Simplicity, Hackers End Game.


Integrity Matters
Real business people still honor a handshake.

All direct income from my Squidoo lenses goes to micro-finance solutions for world poverty provided by the Grameen Foundation. The Grameen Foundation is creating a rising tide of positive influence upon our world. If you instead wish to offer a gift for encouragement of the author, you can give to Bastiat Free University.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is amazing coincidence.

"Our knowledge is so limited, our abilities seem so inadequate, most people see themselves as small insects - They cope by being serious about whatever crack in the sidewalk they were born into. Ignoring limitless potential within a wondrous world, they cling to the security of their limited crack. Crawl out of the crack, take a few steps down the sidewalk, then decide where you want to fly." - Allan Wallace