The Bug in the Computer

Jackson Tel

In 1979, Jeffrey Duke was a computer science major at the University of Arkansas. He worked the midnight to 4 a.m. shift, four early mornings a week, in the Computer Room of the Top Box main store in Little Rock. It was the one with the Corporate Tower, which housed the Administrative Offices of the statewide chain.

Jeffery’s part-time job title was Computer Operations Assistant, and his primary duties were to transfer the Big Box daily data onto a backup tape, which was labeled and stored in a safe location. It was a slow and boring process, tending to the monstrous Hewlett-Packard 3000 mainframe, lights blinking in the semi-darkness as it hummed away in a COBOL fever dream, like an exhausted, overweight dragon with digestive problems.

The cavern of the calculating dragon was kept so chilled to mitigate the heat generated by the HP that Jeffrey wore a ski parka and beanie, and sometimes even gloves during his lonely night shift. In addition to backing up daily data, the part-time computer operator was also responsible for backing up recordings of daily footage from the company’s in-store security cameras.

On the upside, Jeffrey had plenty of time while there to study and complete his school assignments. Coincidentally, the previous semester, before the Christmas break, he had taken a course on the World Wide Web, which was what the internet was then called, and had become intrigued by its possibilities. He didn’t go home to his parents that year. Instead, needing the money, he worked through the lull.

During the pre-dawn winter hours on Wednesday following Christmas, Jeffery was alone in the cold, darkened computer room, playing nursemaid to the big HP when he began to amuse himself by writing some original snippets of Cobol, cleverly programmed self-destruct within an hour, which he inserted into the mainframe’s operating code. He randomly manipulated the prices of certain items. Early the next morning, while making a copy of the in-store camera recordings, Jeffery enjoyed watching the customer and staff responses to his mischief from the day before. It was like viewing Candid Camera.

Jeffrey hadn’t worried about being caught because the Director of Computer Operations, John Blowhard, was away for the holidays. Everyone else in the Computer Department had also taken family leave. except for Blowhard’s shapely, unmarried secretary, Mamie Krakour. She spent the holidays alone, manning her desk outside John’s office. While there, she mainly sold Avon products to her network of aging housewives using the company phone, among them Balinda Blowhard, John’s wife, who was, ironically, unaware of her husband’s sneaky assignations. Though he pledged his eternal love to Mamie, John was too cowardly to break off his marriage. Finally, Mamie accepted that the man was never going to leave his wife to be with her; therefore, he would take the rap for her in the heist while she flew to Brazil for a lifelong holiday of her own. And that was that.

Then, a series of very odd occurrences involving the Top Box Corporate computer system occurred.

At that time of day, as usual, Jeffrey was snuggled up in his dorm room bed, snoring like a bellows, when he was woken by the loud knocking of campus security bearing a message from a Top Box Store Manager. The typewritten note said, “Report to work immediately.”

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This Short Story is In Progress

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