Chapter 1

My name is Christopher Thomas, and as I awake from slumber I see and feel the bright sun shining through my bedroom window on this beautiful Tuesday morning. I noticed that the time was 6:35 AM, so that means I’ve got an hour, give or take a few minutes, to get ready for school. I’m 15-years-old and go to Jules Verne High School in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States, as a Sophomore.

I quickly pulled some clothes out of my closet; there was no dress-up about this school. A plain pair of White pants, a plain blue short-sleeved T-Shirt, some underwear, and a pair of socks. I was a plain kind of dude and didn’t care about Fashion, the latest brands and all that shit. The school generally doesn’t care either. They have a dressing code for those types of people, but in most cases, no one is caught not following it. I do try to follow the rules most of the time.

I shuffled downstairs and made myself a bowl of Chocolate Cheerios. I mainly bought them because I’ve continued to eat Cheerios since I was a kid in my youth, and who hasn’t tried at least some kind of Cheerio once? They’re a classic cereal, and I wasn’t going to let the latest Chocolate Cheerios be wasted.

My mom, Melanie Thomas, sat absorbing the knowledge that is found in our local newspaper, The Enquirer. Though our newspaper isn’t “local” anymore, because anyone could just get the newspaper online complete with an RSS feed, there’s something about newspapers that keeps the computer illiterate happy. Fine with me, I guess.

I sat across from her as I inhaled my Cheerios without chewing. With milk I find that to be a lot easier.

“Morning, Ma,? I mumbled. “What you reading about today?”

“Morning, Chris.” she said, with a hint of exhaustion. “I’m reading the cartoons now, but I did read an article a few minutes ago about the CIA investigating a cyber terrorist from Russia. They won’t give his name, but they did say that they thought China is working with Russia in a collaborative effort.”

“Interesting”, I mused. “Obviously they didn’t leave clues of what they plan on doing for the CIA to find out, did they?”

“No,” she said. “The article said that the CIA is still investigating the matter.”

Investigating, my ass, I thought. Well, it’s time to brush my teeth and all that fun ass shit. I never called it fun, but whatever. Cyber terrorists. Adds a whole new complication to things.

As I heard the bus on its way, I gave my mom a peck on the cheek, told her I’d see her later, and I was off to school.

I was always a loner in school, and also on the Bus. I was quite surprised to see a dude in my seat with a backpack, and next to it was a stick that, from what I can see, went all the way down to the ground. Why would somebody want such a useless object? I wondered.

I approached my seat and asked, in a polite, calm tone, “Can you please move to another seat? I usually sit here.”

Keep in mind the bus had been moving for several minutes now, but the driver rarely gives a shit about what’s happening on his bus unless it concerns safety. Doesn’t give a damn about other people’s feelings, though, which makes me wonder of course why he’s a driver if he doesn’t like to be around kids.

“Uh, actually,” he said, “You can sit next to me if you want. Kinda cramped with you in here, though. This is the best spot for me.”

I did, reluctantly, and as he said, I was squished between the edge and him because his backpack was on the seat.

“So,” I said. “What’s that stick for? Did you just start here? Normally I don’t see people with sticks. Could be quite dangerous, possibly a lethal weapon.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” he said. My Orientation and Mobility instructors insured me when I was little I’d have proper training with such a stick and the skills it brings. It could also be used as a weapon, but it’s not highly recommended by me. Proper training in a martial discipline is more or less required, otherwise I use it for walking. Do you have any name I could call you by?”

“Chris,” I said. “Call me Chris.”

“Chris it is, then,” he said. “You can call me Mike.”

“Okay, Mike.”

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, until Mike broke it.

“So Chris, in case you hadn’t figured it out by now, I’m blind. I did just move here, and what you call a “Stick” I call a “Cane”. They’re items used to travel around independently by sweeping it across your body from left to right, helping the blind with feeling their surroundings I guess would be a good enough explanation. The cane is supposed to match the height of the individual. My cane goes up to my chin, but I’ve had some that go up to my nose. It’s just one out of many things we do differently among our sighted peers.”

“You say it helps you get around,” I said. “How, exactly can an object as unintelligible as a freaking’ cane help you? How the hell will you know where you’re going? Sure you can find obstacles with a cane, but there’s no way in hell you can MapQuest my house and go their with a set of directions.”

“Well, I can’t use MapQuest, as from my limited use it’s inaccessible to screen reading software, but I can use GPS, thanks to my Apple iPhone, and if that doesn’t work, there’s always another blind product that costs an arm and three legs around the corner,” Mike said.

“WTF?” I asked. “Blind people can use iPhones? Totally fuckin’ rad!” I exclaimed.

“Indeed,” Mike said. “It is Fuckin’ awesome.”

“How do you use them? I’ve got an iPhone, was never a fan of that damned Droid alternative,” I said.

“Ah, it’s called VoiceOver,” Mike said. “You can enable it on your phone by going to Accessibility, under Settings. Instead of just regularly tapping it, though, if you keep doing that, the icon you’re tapping will be spoken over and over until you Double-Tap it twice quickly to actually open it, the app, or whatever. From there, you’ll have to learn it on your own. Turn your screen curtain on so you can’t see the screen, it should be a nice challenge.”

“Indeed it will be. If I don’t have any homework tonight I’ll definitely try it out, and if I can learn it where I don’t need the screen, I’ll use voiceover all the time, then so people don’t have to see what I do,” I said.

“It’s a sweet advantage,” Mike said.

Finally our conversation ended, and I told Mike I’d talk to him either this afternoon or tomorrow. As I got off the bus, I really wondered how I’d learn the iPhone with VoiceOver tonight.

I know that does sound, shall I say, amusing, however it’s not often that a company, especially a mainstream one at that, offers a screen reader for the blind. And hey, sighted people can’t hide their iPhone screens, damnit. I’d totally love to use my phone with a black screen. I’d be totally kick ass.

My first period class was Science.

As always when I entered my class, my seat was the first one closest to the door. I don’t talk to anyone much, so I could care if I was the one out of there the quickest as soon as the bell rang.

My teacher, Carl Calloway, stood at the board writing our daily assignment.

“Today, I want to get your opinions on recent events. Please get out your journals and answer the following questions:

“1: News as of late is that “Cyber” terrorists from an unknown country and or location have gained access to our power plants and America’s power grid. How can a hacker do so much damage?

“2: What would you do if our Power Grid went out? Not just ours, but the others in this country? Surely you’d help out those in total darkness? Of course you wouldn’t be blind, we think, but who knows what could happen? Write your opinion as best you can.

“Begin, and we shall discuss these theories after five minutes. Don’t complain about the time... ?

So I got out my binder along with everyone else, and opened up to today’s page, June 14, 2010, and began to write:?Christopher Thomas June 14, 2010 Science Journal Entry How could someone in another country gain access to the power grids of another location via the internet?

It’s easy. Remote access. Okay, I know it’s remote access, I just don’t know how they connect. Cut me some slack, I read it on CNET News that cyber attacks were possible. Don’t ask me how they can shut it off, without blowing it up, of course, first. I think that’s the beauty of remote access.

What would you do without electricity?

I’m not sure, actually. Sit around and chill probably. Or talk on my cell phone, or go on my laptop, which still has charge complete with a WiFi internet Wireless air card.

Carl took our papers, and we started discussing. Some people thought the idea of someone controlling our power via the tools of the internet was utterly impossible. Others thought it was possible, but it would take more than a handful of skills not acquired by stealing other code, which is what most Script Kitties do.

I personally had a neutral position in this discussion. Whatever, we just lose power and it’ll be back in a few hours, or if it takes days, it doesn’t matter to me. I can live. Just ask anyone who’s an Amish. They live without it every day because they want to. They might not want to pay the bills either, so the less crap you have, the less the businesses make you pay.