The Victim in Victoria Station by Jeanne M. Dams Read Free Book Online

what happened before you were born.”
    He ignored my attempt at patronizing. “Did you ever see Univac?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œNeither did I, naturally, but I’ve seen pictures. It occupied the whole of a large room. It required special air-conditioning. It took centuries to complete a task, by today’s standards, and it had far less power and capacity than the most rudimentary of today’s laptops. It was of use only to businesses and research scientists. And that was the way computers were for the first couple of decades.
    â€œThe chaps who started to change things were Bill Gates, on the one hand, and Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, on the other. They were your basic nerds, working out of their garages, but what they developed, working independently, was what led to these machines in here.” He gestured to the room full of computers.
    â€œThe Jobs-Wozniak version eventually became Apple, computers sold complete with all the programs installed. Gates concentrated on ways to make computers more useful to ordinary people, what we now call software, and his company eventually became Microsoft. These three blokes, working with nothing, essentially, except brilliant minds, became the industry leaders, worldwide. They changed the world forever. Bill Monahan is—or was, if we’re right—the same sort of chap. That’s the way the computer industry is, you see. One person—or two; Bill’s partner is Walter Shepherd—can begin with nothing and become a multimillionaire almost overnight. Monahan’s company, Multilinks International, was on its way to the top. Now—who knows?” Nigel shrugged elaborately, and I sat there, stunned.
    What in the world had I gotten into?
    â€œGood heavens,” I said finally.
    â€œRight.”
    I pulled myself together. “Well, but Nigel—I still don’t understand. It sounds as though these early men did lots of things, really advanced, totally new things. Why should one thing, one piece of software, make such a difference now to one small company?”
    â€œBecause that’s the way life is nowadays. Gates and Jobs and Wozniak were pioneers. They invented the wheel. Now anyone who figures out a radically new way to make it spin can be rich by tomorrow—if not on his own, then through being bought out by the big guns. And Monahan and his friends came up with an incredible spin.”
    I sighed. “Explain it to me. In words of one syllable.”
    Nigel sighed in turn. “It’s not easy to explain to someone who knows nothing about the Internet, but I’ll try. Or no, I’ll show you. Look.”
    He moved the mouse, and the swirling pattern that had filled his screen disappeared. Peering through the bottom of my bifocals, I saw a screen full of lists and boxes.
    â€œWhat would you like to know about?” Nigel asked with a grin. “Anything. Cabbages to kings.”
    I was willing to play the game, if it eventually brought him around to the point. “Um. Kings.”
    â€œAny one in particular?”
    â€œHenry the Eighth.”
    Nigel tapped out “King Henry VIII” on the keyboard; it appeared in one of the boxes. He clicked his mouse. A moment or two went by with nothing happening, and then the screen changed. Nigel pointed.
    â€œYou see that number? The computer found that many references to the old devil.”
    I read the number in disbelief. “Does that really say over a million? How could that be? And what good is it? It would take months to sort through all that material.”
    Nigel gave a satisfied little nod. “Exactly. The problem is the search engine—the program that just went through all the databases it uses. Because of the way this particular search engine is configured, it looked for the words ‘king’ and ‘Henry’ and the numeral ‘VIII,’ and has listed every single source for even one of those