Terminal Compromise by Winn Schwartau (my reading book .txt) 📖

affected?” Duncan asked. The question made Dobbs

pause too obviously. The answer was clear. Dobbs wasn’t alone.

“I only speak for myself. No one else.” Dobbs rose from the

chair. “It’s eminently clear. There’s not a damned thing you can

do. Good day.” Dobbs left the room abruptly leaving Tyrone with

plenty of time to think.

Chapter 8 Monday, September 21 New York 14 Dead As Hospital Computer Fails by Scott Mason

Fourteen patients died as a result of a massive computer failure

this weekend at the Golda Meier Medical Center on 5th. Avenue.

According to hospital officials, the Meditrix Life Support Moni-

tors attached to many of the hospital’s patients were accidental-

ly disconnected from the nurses stations and the hospital’s main

computer. Doctors and nurses were unaware of any malfunction

because all systems appeared to operating correctly.

The LSM’s are connected to a hospital wide computer network that

connects all hospital functions in a central computer. Medical

records, insurance filings and treatments as well as personnel

and operations are coordinated through the Information Systems

department.

Golda Meier Medical Center leads the medical field in the used of

technologically advanced techniques, and has been applying an

artificial intelligence based Expert System to assist in diagno-

sis and treatment. Much of the day to day treatment of patients

is done with the LSM continually measuring the condition of

patient, and automatically updating his records. The Expert

System then determines what type of treatment to recommend.

Unless there is a change in the patient’s condition that warrants

the intervention of a doctor, drugs and medicines are prescribed

by the computer.

According to computer experts who were called in to investigate,

the Expert System began misprescribing medications and treatments

early Saturday morning. Doctors estimate that over 50%, about

300, of the hospital’s patients received incorrect treatment.

Of those 14 died and another 28 are in critical condition.

Until this weekend, the systems were considered foolproof. The

entire computer system of Golda Meier Medical Center has been

disconnected until a more intensive investigation is completed.

In response to the news, the Jewish Defense League is calling the

incident, “an unconscionable attack against civilized behavior

and the Jewish community in particular.” They have called for a

full investigation into the episode.

No group or individuals have yet taken credit for the crime. The

AMA has petitioned the Drug and Food Administration to look into

the matter.

Gerald Steinmetz, chief counsel for the Center, said in inter-

views that he had already been contacted by attorney’s represent-

ing the families of the some of the victims of this tragedy. He

anticipates extended legal entanglements until such time that the

true cause can be determined and blame can accurately assigned.

The hospital denies any wrong doing on its or its staff’s part.

This is Scott Mason, determined to stay healthy.

* December, 4 Years Ago Tokyo, Japan

Miles Foster arrived at Narita Airport as another typhoon shat-

tered the coast of Japan. It was the roughest plane ride he had

ever taken; and after 2 weeks of pure bliss. Boy, that Homosoto

sure knows how to show a guy a good time.

After their first meeting at the OSO World Bank Building, Miles

had flown to Tahiti and spent 18 delightful days at the outer

resort of Moorea, courtesy of OSO Industries, with all of the

trimmings. He was provided with a private beach house containing

every modern amenity one could want. Including two housekeepers

and a cook. Only one of the housekeepers knew how to keep house.

The other knew how to keep Miles satisfied.

Marasee was a Pacific Islander who was well schooled in advanced

sexual techniques. At barely 5 feet tall and 96 pounds, her long

silken black hair was as much as sexual tool as her hands and

mouth. Her pristine dark complexion and round face caused Miles

to think that he was potentially guilty of crimes against a

minor, but after their first night together, he relented that

Marasee knew her business very well.

“Mr. Homosoto-San,” she purred in delicately accented English,

“wants you to concentrate on your work.” She caressed his shoul-

ders and upper body as she spoke. “He knows that a man works

best when he has no worries. It is my job to make sure that you

are relaxed. Completely relaxed. Do you understand?”

Her eyes longed for an affirmative answer from Miles. At first

he was somewhat baffled. Homosoto had indeed sent him on this

trip, vacation, to work, undisturbed. But Miles thought that he

would have to fend for himself for his physical pleasures. He

was used to finding ways to satisfy his needs.

“Homosoto-San says that you must be relaxed to do very serious

business. Whenever you need relaxation, I am here.”

The food was as exquisite as was Marasee. He luxuriated in the

eternally perfect weather, the beach, the waves and he even

ventured under water on a novice scuba dive. But, as he knew, he

was here to concentrate on his assigned task, so he tried to

limit his personal activities to sharing pleasure with Marasee.

In just a few days, a relaxed Miles felt a peace, a solace that

he had never known before. He found that his mind was at a

creative high. His mind propelled through the problems of the

war plans, and the solutions appeared. His brain seemed to

function independent of effort. As he established goals, the

roads to meet them appeared magically before him, in absolute

clarity. He was free to explore each one in its entirety, from

beginning to end, undisturbed.

If a problem confounded him, he found that merely forgetting

about it during an interlude with Marasee provided him with the

answer. The barriers were broken, the so-called ‘walls of de-

fense’ crumbled before as he created new methods of penetration

no one had ever thought of before.

As his plan coalesced into a singular whole, he began to experi-

ence a euphoria, a high that was neither drug nor sexually in-

duced. He could envision, all at once, the entire grand strate-

gy; how the myriad pieces effortlessly fit together and evolved

into a picture perfect puzzle. Miles became able to manipulate

the attack scenarios in his mind and make slight changes in one

that would have far reaching implications in another portion of

the puzzle. He might change only one slight aspect, yet see

synergistic ramifications down a side road. This new ability,

gained from total freedom to concentrate and his newfound worry

free life, gave Miles new sources of pleasure and inspiration.

As his plans came together, Miles yearned for something outside

of his idyllic environment. His strategies grew into a concrete

reality, one which he knew he could execute, if Homosoto wasn’t

feeding him a line of shit. And, for the $100,000 Homosoto gave

him to make plans, he was generally inclined to believe that this

super rich, slightly eccentric but obviously dangerous man was

deadly serious.

As the days wore on, Miles realized that, more than anything in

his life, even more than getting laid, he wanted to put his plan

to the test. If he was right, of which he was sure, in a few

short years he would be recognized as the most brilliant computer

scientist in the world. In the whole damn world.

His inner peace, the one which fed his creativity, soon was

overtaken by the unbridled ego which was Miles Foster’s inner

self. The prospect of success fostered new energies and Miles

worked even harder to complete the first phase of his task. To

the occasional disappointment of Marasee, Miles would embroil

himself in the computer Homosoto provided for the purpose.

Marasee had been with many men, she was an expert, but Miles gave

her as much pleasure as she to him. As his work further absorbed

him, she rued the day her assignment would be over.

Miles left Tahiti for Tokyo without even saying goodbye to Mara-

see.

The ritualistic scanning and security checks before Miles got

onto the living room elevator at the OSO Building in Tokyo evi-

denced that Homosoto had not told anyone else how important Miles

was. Even though he recognized the need for secrecy in their

endeavors, Miles was irked by the patronizing, almost rude treat-

ment he received when he was forced to pass the Sumo scrutiny.

The elevator again opened into the grand white gallery on the

66th floor.

“Ah . . .so good to see you again Mr. Foster. Homosoto-San is

anxious to see you.” A short Japanese manservant escorted Miles

to the doors of Homosoto’s office. The briefest of taps invited

the bellow of “Hai!” from its inner sanctum.

Homosoto was quick to rise from his techo-throne and greeted

Miles as if they were long lost friends.

“Mr. Foster . . .it is so good to see you. I assume everything

was satisfactory? You found the working conditions to