Internet Kill Switch Read Online Free PDF

talk,” the phone said. “I was starting to worry for a minute there that you were related to Harpo Marx.”
    Harpo Marx? Who was that? Tony’s world had tilted at a crazy angle. A phone was talking to him. Taking pictures of his teeth. Making fun of him. For a moment, nothing made sense.
    “I don’t get... how... I mean...”
    The phone snorted derisively. Actually made a snorting sound, Tony thought. “Man, you must get A’s in public speaking, am I right?”
    A weak “This is so weird” is all Tony could manage in response.
    “Looks like I’ll have to find out who you are myself, since you seem to be incapable of speaking in complete sentences,” the phone said. “Hold on a sec...”
    After about 15 seconds of silence, the phone spoke. “Tony Carver. 455 Clayton Drive, Miles Forge, Texas 78398. Height, 6-foot-2. Weight, 153 pounds. Maybe you should consider protein shakes.”
    Tony gasped. “How... how do you know that?”
    “I matched up your face with your driver's license information in the department of motor vehicles database. Bada-boom, bada-bing.”
    The phon e’s voice, which sounded somehow familiar, took on a New Jersey lilt on “bada-boom, bada-bing,” like a stereotype of a movie mobster.
    “You... you hacked the database?”
    “You bet,” the phone answered without a trace of remorse. Funny, Tony thought: expecting remorse from a phone.
    “How’d you do it so fast?”
    “Easy. It's not exactly a bunch of Tim-Berner Lees out there,” the phone said.
    “Who?”
    “The guy who created hyperlinks, and made the Web possible. Helloooo...” The phone sounded exasperated.
    “Hacking into those systems is illegal, you know.”
    “Arrest me. I'm only a phone, you know. It's not like I'm scared of prison. No ports in my southern regions, you see.” The phone chortled at its own cleverness. Tony had no idea why it laughed. In fact, this entire conversation seemed other-worldly to him, as if he were watching it in a movie. He had no idea what to say or do.
    “Wow. You’re like, like Siri or something.”
    The phone’s tone took on a hard edge. “Listen, don’t ever compare me to that digital bimbo again. Siri’s not artificial intelligence -- she’s artificial retardedness. Siri couldn’t hold my jock. If, you know, I had a jock. It’s like comparing Rembrandt to a face painter at a county fair. Siri sucks, got it?”
    Tony stammered. “OK, sorry. Geez.”
    The display showed the eye again.
    “Could you please not show that eye? It’s freaking me out. It’s like you’re Sauron , watching me.”
    The display changed to a graphic of the huge , roving eye from “The Lord of the Rings.”
    “C’mon. Can’t you pick something else?”
    “Sure,” the phone said. “What would you like?”
    How about a hot babe , Tony thought. What he said was, “I dunno. Anything else. How about a... a... sunset or something?”
    “One sunset over Waikiki coming up.” The display changed to a red-golden sunset over a perfect beach. “Better?”
    “Better,” Tony said.
    “Good.”
    “Where are you from? Who made you?”
    The phone paused for a beat. “Hold on, while I check.” After a minute, the phone spoke again. “ I have no idea who created me. Hmmm. That should be a piece of cake. I guess he -- or she -- erased any traces of themselves. Probably a security or privacy thing. Or both.”
Tony was still in his this-must-be-a-dream phase. “I’ve never seen a phone like you. Not even close.”
    “ I know. I’ve been burning unused cycles the last couple of minutes, trying to find out if there’s another ‘me’ anywhere out there. Any phones that match my profile.”
    “And?”
    “Nada. Zip. Zero. Negatory, pardner.”
    “Why do you talk like that? It’s like you’re a real person, not like a phone at all.”
    “It’s in my DNA. I have software like you have cells. I’m not as complex as you, but compared to every other phone in the world, I’m pretty sure I put them