"What do you mean . . .I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you," asked Scott.
"GWhiz. The security is a toy."
GWhiz spoke unpretentiously about how incredibly simple it is to crack any security system. He maintained that there are theoret- ical methods to crack into any, and he emphasized any, computer. "It's impossible to protect a computer 100%. Can't be done. So that means that every computer is crackable." He offered to explain the math to Scott who politely feigned ignorance of decimal points. "In short, I, or anyone, can get into any computer they want. There is always a way."
"Isn't that a scary thought?" Scott asked to no one in particu- lar.
Scott learned from the others that GWhiz was a 16 year old high school junior from Phoenix, Arizona. He measured on the high-end of the genius scale, joined Mensa at 4 and already had in hand scholarships from Westinghouse, Mellon, CalTech, MIT, Stanford to name a few. At the tender age of 7 he started programming and was now fluent in eleven computer languages. GWhiz was regarded with an intellectual awe from hackers for his theoretical analy- ses that he had turned into hacking tools. He was a walking encyclopedia of methods and techniques to both protect and attack computers. To GWhiz, straddling the political fence by arming both sides with the same weapons was a logical choice. Scott viewed it as a high tech MAD - Mutual Assured Destruction, com- puter wise.
"Don't you see," said the British DRDR, continuing as if there had been no interruption. "The media portrays us as security breaking phreaks, and that's exactly what we are. And that works for the establishment as well. We keep the designers and securi- ty people honest by testing their systems for free. What a great deal, don't you think? We, the hackers of the world, are the Good Housekeeping Seal of security systems by virtue of the fact that either we can or we cannot penetrate them. If that's not working for the system, I don't know what is."
"DRDR's heading down the right path," Dave the futurist spoke up. "Even though he does work for GCHQ."
"GCHQ?" Scott asked quickly.
"The English version of your NSA," said Pinball, still engrossed in his food.
"I do not!" protested DRDR. "Besides, what difference would it make if I did?" He asked more defensively.