The Saracen Incident

by Jack Bowie

  Carlson was a man that commanded attention, from friends and foes alike. His thoughts on defensive responses might be very enlightening. “Oh, Steven?” Matthews called.

  Carlson spun back to face the voice. “Yes, Mr. President?”

  “If you have any specific suggestions in these domestic areas, I’d be very interested in reviewing them with you.”

  “Certainly, sir. Thank you.”

  Carlson disappeared through the door and Matthews waited for the inevitable analysis.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Dawson began as Matthews knew he would, “I know General Carlson is your friend, but sometimes he just gives me the creeps. I never know if he means what he’s saying.”

  Matthews had to tread carefully. His friendship with Carlson was well-known and had compromised his relationship with other members of his staff on more than one occasion. It was a difficult line to walk but one he would not sidestep.

  “You’re not alone there, Chad. However, Steven is a valuable resource for all of us. I value his counsel.”

  “Yes, sir. I know. But he’s so . . . well, private. I never see him relax. Does he have any family?”

  “No one close. He never married. His first family was the military. Now I think he’s adopted us.”

  “Do you really trust him? Some of the things he says, . . . well they don’t sound like he’s your ideological soul-mate.”

  Matthews couldn’t hold back the grin. His Chief of Staff didn’t miss a thing. “He is a self-possessed professional, Chad. Just like the rest of us. Do I agree with everything he says? No. Do I respect his opinions and ideas? Absolutely. Sometimes I need someone who can say things that I can’t. Think of Steven as our lightning rod. Just be careful you don’t get too close.

  “Look at it this way, would you rather have him working for the opposition?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. President. Can we be sure he isn’t?”

  Acknowledgements

  The Saracen Incident is a work of fiction, but much of the described Internet history is based in fact: CERT was formed after the appearance of the Morris Worm, the Phone Phreaks did exist, and 6.251 was definitely a celebrated course at MIT.

  The story draws on the memories and experiences of many more individuals than I am able to name. My thanks to you all. Some names, facts and times have been changed to fit the storyline. All errors are mine.

  First, a special thanks to Prof. J. Craig Wheeler for your encouragement and assistance. You kept me motivated when the muses were silent. I hope you don’t mind being a shadowy Fed.

  Thanks to Andrew Carleen and the MIT News and Registrar’s Offices for your help in supplying important details about the Institute.

  Thanks to Ken Lord for sharing your personal insights of life in our crazy business.

  Thanks to my daughters Lisa and Jennifer, for your patience and understanding under a seemingly never-ending barrage of odd questions, usually without any obvious context. You always had the answers I needed.

  And finally, a special thank you to my wife Sharon, for reading every word, finding all my slips, and most importantly, just being there.

  About the Author

  Jack Bowie was born and raised outside of Cleveland, Ohio, then headed to Cambridge, Massachusetts to attend MIT. After graduating, he held technical management positions in public and private sector organizations in Massachusetts, Virginia and Connecticut.

  A lifelong reader of classic science fiction and espionage thrillers, Jack's writing began as a break from professional duties and grew into a passion for storytelling.

  Drawing on his career as a researcher, engineer and high-tech executive, Jack’s novels describe the subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, interplay of technology with personal passions and egos.

  For more information on Jack, check out www.JackBowie.com, or follow him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/jackbowieauthor.