Son of the Morning Read Online Free PDF Page B

invest the profits, and retire happily to tinker away at more innovative programs.
     
    "I'm sure it's a real boon to depositors," she said dryly, "but it's still illegal. You can't market it."
     
    "Oh, it's not for public knowledge, it's just goofing around. You'd think banks would have better security programs, but I haven't found one yet that's much of a challenge."
     
    Grace propped her chin on her hand and eyed him. "My boy, you're either going to be famous, or in jail."
     
    He ducked his head, grinning. "I've got something else to show you," he said enthusiastically, his fingers darting over the keyboard as he exited the bank's accounting records.
     
    Grace watched as the screen changed rapidly, flickering from one display to another. "Won't they be able to tell you've been in their files?"
     
    "Not with this baby. See, I got in through a legitimate password. Basically, I put on an electronic sheepskin, and they never knew a wolf was prowling around."
     
    "How did you get the password?" "Snooping. No matter how coded the info, there's always a back door. Not that your bank has very good computer security," he said with obvious disapproval. "If I were you, I'd consider moving my account."
     
    "I'll think about it," she assured him, with a baleful glare that had him grinning again.
     
    "That's just part of the program. Here's the accounting system." He pulled up another screen and motioned Grace closer. She obligingly scooted her chair forward an inch or so, and he launched into the intricacies of his digitalized baby. Grace paid attention, because she could easily see it was a good system, deceptively simple to execute. He had programmed it to compare the current entry against past entries in the same account, so if anyone accidentally typed in, say, "$115.00" instead of "$ 15.00," the program alerted the user that the amount wasn't within the previously established range, and to check for an input error.
     
    "I like that," she mused. She had always paid bills and done her bookkeeping the old-fashioned way, by hand and on paper. However, she was completely at home with computers, so there was no reason for her not to do their household finances electronically.
     
    Kristian beamed. "I knew you would." His long fingers stroked the keys, downloading the program into her hard disk. "Its name is Go Figure."
     
    She groaned at the sly corniness of it, the groan changing midway into a laugh. "Do me a favor. When you get busted for playing around in the bank's computers, don't tell the feds that I have a copy of the program, okay?"
     
    "I'm telling you, it's safe, at least until the banks change all their passwords. Then you simply won't be able to get in. I could get in," he boasted, "but most people couldn't. Here, let me give you a list of the passwords."
     
    "I don't want it," she said quickly, but Kristian ignored her. He rifled through a stack of papers and plucked out three sheets of closely printed material, which he stuck in her computer case.
     
    "There. Now you'll have it if you need it." He paused, staring at the computer with the ongoing chess game. His opponent had made a move. He studied the board, head cocked slightly to one side, then he chortled. "Aha! I know that gambit, and it won't work." Gleefully he moved a knight and clicked the mouse.
     
    "Who are you playing with?" "I dunno ," he said absently. "He calls himself the Fishman."
     
    Grace blinked, staring at the screen. Naw , it couldn't be. Kristian was playing with someone who had probably chosen that Net name with malice aforethought, to trick people into making just that assumption. The real Bobby Fischer wouldn't be surfing the Net looking for games; he could play anyone, anywhere, and get paid huge amounts of money for doing it.
     
    "Who usually wins?" "We're about even. He's good," Kristian allowed as he rehooked his other desktop.
     
    Grace opened her purse and pulled out her checkbook. "Want a pizza?" she asked.
     
    His head