Hickory Dock, District 7 (adpatres) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-20 14:23:00 |
|
|||
A gaggle of boys crowded the back corner of the Hot Spot café, whispering and sniggering as they ostensibly pored over their homework. They were an awkward assembly — some gangly-limbed and dotted with acne, some husky and deep-voiced, some as small and fresh as tadpoles. All unmistakably on the cusp of pubescence. Each wore the same uniform: a gray jumpsuit with a Mandarin collar and a telltale patch on the sleeve. They were Academy students. District 3’s finest. Presently, however, they were up to no good. The manager had marched over three times already to shush them, and was shooting exasperated looks in their direction between customers. “You,” he’d snarled, pointing at Ace Packet, one of the runtier tadpoles. “You’re the ringleader.” And this was just the way Ace liked it. As far as he was concerned, he’d been born the center of attention, and saw no compelling reason to vacate his throne. “You’re only hating on Panemsoft Doorways because it’s the cool thing to do, Chip,” he was saying, perched atop his stool. “I mean, Anthem is a pretty sexy operating system, but it’s got some serious integration issues.” “Yeah? Give it a few years, Ace. Anthem’s going to be everywhere.” “Like Panemsoft would ever let that happen.” “I’m telling you, once Anthem expands its platforms, it could totally render Doorways obsolete. It’s just lightyears beyond, Ace. It’s way more sophisticated.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” “I think we should take a poll. I’m gonna ask that guy.” Ace pointed to the bespectacled man who’d just ambled in, and was now helping himself to a cup of java from the dispenser. The buzz of the boys’ murmurs and nervous laughter rose at Ace’s declaration; it was now almost impossible to ignore, much to the dismay of the patrons who’d been trying to do just that. Ace hopped down from his perch and sauntered over to the stranger. “Excuse me, sir,” Ace chirped, flashing a winning smile that glimmered with insincerity, “You have been selected to participate in me and my friends’ survey. Here is the question: which operating system do you think is superior — Panemsoft Doorways, or Anthem?” The man twitched in surprise. With the hand not holding his cup of freshly-printed coffee, he adjusted his glasses and squinted down at the boy, a gray-jacketed student and not an unusual sight at the café. Largely the children of engineers and programmers, most of Panem's highest-achieving pupils could both afford not to work after school and to purchase caffeinated beverages to stave off charges of loitering. Usually, however, they recognized him. Perhaps it had been too long since his last guest lecture, or perhaps they were affording him some courtesy, knowing the time of year. "Anthem, of course," Beetee said, as though surprised anyone would even ask. "I needed something quick and streamlined for my devices, and I'm afraid Doorways just wasn't going to cut it." He shook his head. He knew many of the Panemsoft programmers personally, but he saw too many inefficiencies with the way the system architects in the Capitol worked. "Variables are not efficiently passed through each thread, resulting in memory lockups and overwhelming certain circuits while leaving others untouched… No. I designed Anthem to correct those mistakes." Hubbub from the peanut gallery behind them grew steadily in fervor. One particularly bemused voice squawked, “you idiot, that’s Beetee Latier!” in a mock-whisper, compelling Ace to turn upon his heel and deliver his cohort a threat in theatrical pantomime. He faced the victor again, smoothing out the cuffs on his jumpsuit as if to suggest a certain gentility not possessed by his peers. “I apologize for those losers,” he said, flashing him a somewhat sycophantic smile. “As we were saying: I’ll be the first to admit that Anthem has got some serious style, sir. Beetee. Can I call you Beetee, sir?” He didn’t quite wait for an answer. “But don’t you think it’s seriously lagging on the integration front? I mean, it’s practically a niche product. If the only platforms I can use it with are for gaming and entertainment — I mean, what’s the point?” Beetee's lip twitched upwards, almost into a smile. He didn't often receive critiques of his products and inventions, particularly not to his face. He couldn't help but admire the chutzpah of a District 3 child who would approach one of the victors without any hesitation. The question was a good one. Though Beetee's operating system had one other primary use -- advanced weapons targeting systems -- the boy had no way of knowing that, and, even including warfare applications, Anthem's rankings in the market remained as he had said, limited. Beetee swirled the coffee cup with his hand as he considered an answer. With the liquid still too hot for consumption, motion was necessary to increase the rate of heat transfer. "Don't you think an alternative is necessary? The quality of the product speaks for itself, and it has the potential to grow as more users recognize their options." “Well — yeah, you could say that,” Ace conceded, thinking of Anthem’s sleek, uncluttered interface and intuitive controls. The programming was pristine. “But is it really about what the market wants? I mean, we both know what Panemsoft is like.” He looked up at the man with a cynical squint, letting the unspoken pass between them. It was hardly a secret that Doorways was weighed down with Capitol spyware, tracking and uploading the users’ every move to collection servers. A competitor like Anthem could only be tolerated as long as it remained on the fringes. Taking a sip of his cooled coffee, Beetee met the boy's eyes. Though District 3 was the only place outside the Capitol where citizens could access the internet, that freedom came at a cost. While Anthem was relatively secure, coincidentally incompatible with some of the more malicious bugs, privacy disappeared as soon as the user logged on to the internet. By the time Beetee designed his own operating system, he had been a victor long enough to know what would happen if he'd tried to work around spyware completely: his products would be less than fringe, and people would be dead. Not an ideal situation. "They might buy me out," Beetee suggested. Most of the gadgets that used his operating system were made on commission from the Capitol in the first place, and acquisition of Beetee's software would hardly be the Panem government's most egregious offense. "It's not unheard of." Ace shrugged, mirroring Beetee’s apparent indifference. “I guess that wouldn’t be too bad,” he said. “You’d be pretty rich.” He supposed the victor was already fairly wealthy — for a District dweller — but it was hard to tell that by looking at him. He was District 3, through and through. “Maybe the developers will contract it to us,” he added, grinning as the thought occurred to him. “I could fix it up for you. If Anthem’s got one flaw, it’s the tragic lack of Panemsoft Paint.” |