UNDERGROUND

‘The finger . . . The finger system?’

Huh? Electron wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. There was no such thing. Finger was a command, not a computer.

‘Uh, yes,’ he said.

The interview went the same way, jolting awkwardly through computer technology which he understood far better than either officer. Finally, at the end of a long day, Detective Constable Proebstl asked Electron:

‘In your own words, tell me what fascination you find with accessing computers overseas?’

‘Well, basically, it’s not for any kind of personal gain or anything,’ Electron said slowly. It was a surprisingly difficult question to answer. Not because he didn’t know the answer, but because it was a difficult answer to describe to someone who had never hacked a computer. ‘It’s just the kick of getting in to a system. I mean, once you are in, you very often get bored and even though you can still access the system, you may never call back.

‘Because once you’ve gotten in, it’s a challenge over and you don’t really care much about it,’ Electron continued, strug- gling. ‘It’s a hot challenge thing, trying to do things that other people are also trying to do but can’t.

‘So, I mean, I guess it is a sort of ego thing. It’s knowing that you can do stuff that other people cannot, and well, it is the challenge and the ego boost you get from doing something well . . . where other people try and fail.’

A few more questions and the day-long interview finally finished. The police then took Electron to the Fitzroy police station. He guessed it was the nearest location with a JP they could find willing to process a bail application at that hour.

In front of the ugly brick building, Electron noticed a small group of people gathered on the footpath in the dusky light. As the police car pulled up, the group swung into a frenzy of activity, fidgeting in over-the-shoulder briefcases, pulling out notebooks and pens, scooping up big microphones with fuzzy shag covers, turning on TV camera lights.