"As you are surveying a dark and misty swamp you come across what appears to be a small cave. You light a torch and enter. You have walked several hundred feet when you stumble into a bright blue portal...with a sudden burst of light and a loud explosion you are swept into...DragonFire... Press any key, if you dare..." __________________ | red menace | | -&- | | mephisto madware | | textfile systems | | present: | ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#] [#] [#] [#] "Night of the Hackers" [#] [#] by Richard Sandza [#] [#] From "Newsweek" November 12th, 1984 [#] [#] [#] [#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#][#] Edited from a badly-done version to this lovely one (HAH!) by the one, the only, Mr. Pez. (What a guy.) You have programmed your personal computer to dial into Dragonfire, a computer bulletin board in Gainsville, Texas. But before you get any information, Dragonfire demands your name, home city, and phone number. So, for tonight's tour of the electronic wilderness you become "Montana Wildhack" of San Francisco. Dragonfire, Sherwood Forrest(sic), Forbidden Zone, Blottoland, Plovernet, The Vault, Shadowland, PhBI, and scores of other computer bulletin boards are hangouts of a new generation of vandals. These precocious teen agers use their electronic skills to play hide and seek with computer and telephone security forces. Many computer bulletin boards are completely legitimate: they resemble electronic versions of the familiar cork boards in supermarkets and school corridors, listing services and providing imformation some one out there is bound to find useful. But this is a walk on the wild side, a trip into the world of underground computer bulletin boards dedicated to encouraging -- and making -- mischief. The phone numbers for these boards are closely guarded as a psychiatrist's home telephone number. Some numbers are posted on underground boards, others are exchanged over the telephone. A friendly hacker provided Dragonfire's number. Hook up and you see a choice of topics offered. For phone phreaks -- who delight in stealing service from AT&T and other phone networks -- Phreakenstein's Lair is a potpourri of phone numbers, access codes, and technical information. For computer hackers -- who dial into other people's computers -- Ranger's Lodge is chock-full of numbers and passwords for government, university, and corporate computers. Moving through Dragonfire's offerings, you can only marvel at how conversant these teen-agers are with the technical esoterica of today's electronic age. Obviously,they have spent a great deal of time studying computers, though their grammar and spelling indicate they haven't been as diligent in other subjects. You are constantly reminded of how young they are. "Well, it's that time of year again. School is back in session so let's get those high school phone numbers rolling in. Time to get straight A's, have perfect attendance (except when you've been up all night hacking school passwords), and messing up your worst teacher's paycheck." Moving through Dragonfire's offerings, you can only marvel at how conversant these teen-agers are with the technical esoterica of today's electronic age. Obviously,they have spent a great deal of time studying computers, though their grammar and spelling indicate they haven't been as diligent in other subjects. You are constantly reminded of how young they are. "Well, it's that time of year again. School is back in session so let's get those high school phone numbers rolling in. Time to get straight A's, have perfect attendance (except when you've been up all night hacking school passwords), and messing up your worst teacher's paycheck." Forbidden Zone, in Detroit, is offering ammunition for a hacker civil war ...tips on crashing the most popular bulletin board software. There are also plans for building red, black, and blue boxes to mimic operator tones and get free service. And here are the details for "the safest and best way to make and use nitroglycerin," compliments of Dr. Hex, who says he got it from "my chemistry teacher." Flip through the "pages." You have to wonder if this information is accurate. Can this really be the phone number and password to Taco Bell's computer? Do these kids really have the dialup numbers to dozens of universtiy computers? The temptation is too much. You sign off and have your computer dial the number to Yale University Computer. Bingo -- the words Yale University appear on your screen. You enter a password. A menu appears. You hang up in a sweat. You are now a hacker. Punch in another number and your modem zips off touch tones. Here comes the tedious side of all this. Bulletin boards are popular. No vacancy at Bates Motel (named for Anthony Perkins' creepy motel in the movie "Psycho"); the line is busy. So are 221 B. Baker Street, PhBI, Shadowland, and The Vault. Caesar's Palace rings and connects. This is a different breed of board. Caesar's palace is a combination phreak board and computer store in Miami. This is the place to learn ways to mess up a department store's antishoplifting system, or make free calls on telephones with locks on the dials. Pure capitalism accompanies such anarchy. Caesar's Palace is offering good deals on disk drives, software, computers, and all sorts of hardware. Orders are taken through electronic mail messages. "Tele Trial": Bored by Caesar's Palace, you enter the number to Blottoland, the board operated by one of the nation's most notorious computer phreaks -- King Blotto. This one had been busy all night, but it is pretty late in Cleveland. The phone rings and you connect. To get past the blank screen, type the secondary password, "S-L-I-M-E." King Blotto obliges, listing his rules: you must leave your real name, telephone number, address, occupation and interests. He will call and disclose the primary password, "if you belong on this board." If admitted, do not reveal the phone number or the secondary password, lest you face "Tele-Trial," the King warns and dismisses you by hanging up. You expexted heavy security,but this teen-ager's security is, as they say, awesome. Computers at the defense department and hundreds of businesses let you know when you've reached them. Here you need a password just to find out what system answered the phone. Then King Blotto asks questions, and hangs up. Professional security experts could learn something from this kid. He knows that ever since the 414 computer hackers were arrested in August 1982, law enforcement officers have been searching for leads on bulletin boards. "Do you have any ties to or connections with any law enforcement agency or any agency which would inform such a law inforcement agency of this bulletin board?" Such is the welcomig message to Plovernet, a Florida board known for its great hacker/phreak files. There amid a string of valid Visa/MasterCard numbers are dozens of computer phone numbers and passwords. Here, you also learn what Blotto means by tele trial. "As some of you may or may not know, a session of the conference court was held and The Wizard was found guilty of miscellaneous charges, and sentenced to four months off bulletin boards." If The Wizard calls, system operators like Blotto will disconnect him. Paging through the bulletin boards is a test of your patience. Each board has different commands to follow, leaving you to hunt and peck your way around. So far you haven't had the nerve to type "C" which summons the system operator for a live, computer to computer conversation. The time, however, has come for you to ask a few questions to the "sysop". You dial a computer in boston. It answers & you begin working through the menus. You scan through a handful of dial-up numbers, including one for Arpanet, the Defense Department's research computer. You bravely tap "C", and in seconds, the screeen blanks and your cursor dances across the screen. "Hello... What kind of computer do you have?" Contact. The sysop is here. You exchange amenities and get "talking." How much hacking does he do? Not much, too busy. Is he afraid of having his computer confiscated like the Los Angeles man facing criminal charges because his computer bulletin board contained a stolen telephone credit card number? "No," he replies. Finally, he asks the dreaded question, "How old are you?" "How old are you?" you reply, stalling. "15." he types. Once you confess that you are old enough to be his father, the conversation gets very serious. You fear each new question. He probably thinks you're a cop. But all he wants to know is your choice for President. The chat continues, until he asks you what time it is. Just past midnight, you reply. Expletive, "it's 3:08 here," sysop types, "I must be going to sleep. I've got school tomorrow." The cursor dances. "*********** Thank you for calling." The screen goes blank. Richard Sandza The News Line]