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.Jack Parlabane.’‘Parlabane.Very cynical indeed.’ He smiled and offered his hand to shake.‘Matt Dempsey.You’re a journalist, yeah? You ever seen the system down at the Evening Capital?’‘Only very briefly.’‘It’s another stoater.The hardware’s no bad, but the software? Fuck’s sake.Portuguese, it is.’‘Of course,’ said Parlabane.‘Think software, think Portugal.’‘I worked at the Capital for a wee while a few years back, when they brought that one in,’ Dempsey said.‘Nightmare.New DTP system, never been used live by anyone before.The first rule of buying software is never buy version 1.1 of anything.Let some other clown find out whit’s wrang with it and then buy version three when the thing actually fucking works.Not the Capital.They volunteer to be guinea pigs on this thing called Dash.The hacks all called it Colon instead, because it’s full of shite.When I was there it crashed for a different reason every three hours, half its error messages were in fucking Portuguese and it practically doubled the paper’s production times.But I’m sure it was all worth it to the fat bastard in the boardroom who mysteriously acquired a villa on the Algarve and free golf membership for life.’‘But obviously, again, that sort of thing would never happen here,’ Parlabane stated flatly.‘Certainly not.All the hardware and software we’re running was purchased strictly in accordance with my requests and projections, down to the last floppy disk.That’s why we’ve got a fucking NASA-grade central server and I’m running about daft all day fixing programme crashes and trying to retrieve lost files.’‘And absolutely everything runs off the central server?’‘Aye.Management policy.Means nobody can be farting aboot playing games on their PC or loading up dodgy or even illegal software.It also means the boys upstairs can monitor everything that’s going on.The heid bummers can access all levels of the system, so they can spy on the underlings, see what wee messages they’re writing to each other.That kind of thing.’‘Yes,’ said Parlabane, ‘what was the phrase your man Medway used.? Something about showing people that they were valued and respected.So if someone with those privileges wanted to know how much a certain doctor earned, for instance, he could just access the wages files directly?’‘Aye.But that’s just the way the hierarchy works.As senior management they’ve got the right – in fact, I suppose you could say it’s their job – to know or to be able to know what’s going on down below.The more distasteful aspect is the Loud Labelling.’‘The what?’‘Loud Labelling.It’s a wee piece of software.Every type of file gets assigned an automatic label as soon as it’s created: accounts, spreadsheets, budget, medical records and all that.But person-to-person messages get assigned a Loud Label.That means it gets noted by the computer that so-and-so sent a memo file to such-and-such, and so the heid bummers can call up a list of who’s talking to who.If they see something they fancy a swatch at, they can just call it up.They’re at it all the time.Whiling away the hours doing fuck-all work and reading other people’s mail.’‘So is it a password system?’ Parlabane asked ‘Getting into the right access level, I mean.’Dempsey glared.‘Don’t fucking talk about it.The chief exec and a few more in senior management have got passwords that even I’m not allowed to know.How am I supposed to police the system when I don’t have access to the whole thing? It’s just a power trip.It’s not as though there’s any information I – or any other bugger – would be remotely interested in.It’s only a fucking hospital, for God’s sake.No, it’s purely so they can feel more important than everybody else.’Parlabane looked on with obvious incredulity.‘You’re not telling me that you haven’t set up a few backdoors for yourself, surely.’‘I’m not a hacker, I’m just a systems manager.And to be honest, I don’t have any great curiosity to know what they’re up to.I’d just like to have the run of my own network.’‘Does the Loud Labelling have a hierarchy as well? Can the chief exec see what the other big cheeses are saying to each other?’‘Of course.The whole fucking thing was his idea.’‘So if you were able to access at his level, you’d have complete freedom of the system?’‘Apart from the direct programming, which only I can access, aye.’‘So,’ Parlabane said, looking Dempsey in the eye with that helplessly untrustworthy glint, ‘if someone could provide you with a piece of software that would reveal the chief exec’s password, would you be worried about the fact that that person might go poking around your system?’‘Not at all,’ Dempsey said quietly, glancing quickly over Parlabane’s shoulders to see whether anyone was paying them too much attention.‘Because I’m the only one who could access the direct programming to install that software, and I’d be the only one who could call the software up once it was running.’Parlabane nodded solemnly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Jack Parlabane.’‘Parlabane.Very cynical indeed.’ He smiled and offered his hand to shake.‘Matt Dempsey.You’re a journalist, yeah? You ever seen the system down at the Evening Capital?’‘Only very briefly.’‘It’s another stoater.The hardware’s no bad, but the software? Fuck’s sake.Portuguese, it is.’‘Of course,’ said Parlabane.‘Think software, think Portugal.’‘I worked at the Capital for a wee while a few years back, when they brought that one in,’ Dempsey said.‘Nightmare.New DTP system, never been used live by anyone before.The first rule of buying software is never buy version 1.1 of anything.Let some other clown find out whit’s wrang with it and then buy version three when the thing actually fucking works.Not the Capital.They volunteer to be guinea pigs on this thing called Dash.The hacks all called it Colon instead, because it’s full of shite.When I was there it crashed for a different reason every three hours, half its error messages were in fucking Portuguese and it practically doubled the paper’s production times.But I’m sure it was all worth it to the fat bastard in the boardroom who mysteriously acquired a villa on the Algarve and free golf membership for life.’‘But obviously, again, that sort of thing would never happen here,’ Parlabane stated flatly.‘Certainly not.All the hardware and software we’re running was purchased strictly in accordance with my requests and projections, down to the last floppy disk.That’s why we’ve got a fucking NASA-grade central server and I’m running about daft all day fixing programme crashes and trying to retrieve lost files.’‘And absolutely everything runs off the central server?’‘Aye.Management policy.Means nobody can be farting aboot playing games on their PC or loading up dodgy or even illegal software.It also means the boys upstairs can monitor everything that’s going on.The heid bummers can access all levels of the system, so they can spy on the underlings, see what wee messages they’re writing to each other.That kind of thing.’‘Yes,’ said Parlabane, ‘what was the phrase your man Medway used.? Something about showing people that they were valued and respected.So if someone with those privileges wanted to know how much a certain doctor earned, for instance, he could just access the wages files directly?’‘Aye.But that’s just the way the hierarchy works.As senior management they’ve got the right – in fact, I suppose you could say it’s their job – to know or to be able to know what’s going on down below.The more distasteful aspect is the Loud Labelling.’‘The what?’‘Loud Labelling.It’s a wee piece of software.Every type of file gets assigned an automatic label as soon as it’s created: accounts, spreadsheets, budget, medical records and all that.But person-to-person messages get assigned a Loud Label.That means it gets noted by the computer that so-and-so sent a memo file to such-and-such, and so the heid bummers can call up a list of who’s talking to who.If they see something they fancy a swatch at, they can just call it up.They’re at it all the time.Whiling away the hours doing fuck-all work and reading other people’s mail.’‘So is it a password system?’ Parlabane asked ‘Getting into the right access level, I mean.’Dempsey glared.‘Don’t fucking talk about it.The chief exec and a few more in senior management have got passwords that even I’m not allowed to know.How am I supposed to police the system when I don’t have access to the whole thing? It’s just a power trip.It’s not as though there’s any information I – or any other bugger – would be remotely interested in.It’s only a fucking hospital, for God’s sake.No, it’s purely so they can feel more important than everybody else.’Parlabane looked on with obvious incredulity.‘You’re not telling me that you haven’t set up a few backdoors for yourself, surely.’‘I’m not a hacker, I’m just a systems manager.And to be honest, I don’t have any great curiosity to know what they’re up to.I’d just like to have the run of my own network.’‘Does the Loud Labelling have a hierarchy as well? Can the chief exec see what the other big cheeses are saying to each other?’‘Of course.The whole fucking thing was his idea.’‘So if you were able to access at his level, you’d have complete freedom of the system?’‘Apart from the direct programming, which only I can access, aye.’‘So,’ Parlabane said, looking Dempsey in the eye with that helplessly untrustworthy glint, ‘if someone could provide you with a piece of software that would reveal the chief exec’s password, would you be worried about the fact that that person might go poking around your system?’‘Not at all,’ Dempsey said quietly, glancing quickly over Parlabane’s shoulders to see whether anyone was paying them too much attention.‘Because I’m the only one who could access the direct programming to install that software, and I’d be the only one who could call the software up once it was running.’Parlabane nodded solemnly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]