🚀 go-pugleaf

        Okay, this is going to take a bit of explaining than PL.
        Sometime in the fall of 1993, a fellow LNH writer by the name of
Ken Schmidt mentioned to me (on IRC, I recall) an idea of his for a villain
who could control people's minds through the Net.  He couldn't come up with
any better ideas, so he let me take the ball and run with it.  His mistake. :)
        Anyways, this is that story.  It's four parts, and originally ran in
System Corruptors #10-13, but I'll be reposting it under its own title so
as not to confuse anyone.  The parts are short (the whole thing comes out to
492 lines), so I'll be posting one part per day for the next four days.
        Continuity-wise, this is set before Pliable Lad #8.


Read Between the Lines #1: "Hidden Messages"
Copr. 1993 Mike Escutia
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

        In a computer lab at Indiana University, a sophomore computer science
major logged into the college's UNIX mainframe to check his e-mail and to
read the newsgroups.  Finding no mail in his mailbox, he quickly went into
rn and begins reading rec.arts.comics.misc.  As he flipped through the article
headers, one caught his eye.  It said "-*Important!  Please read!*-" in a
rather important-looking way, so he read it.
        Suddenly, the student's eyes went wide, a distant look in them.  Emo-
tionlessly, he logged off and left the lab, seemingly without purpose.  Leav-
ing the building, he totally baffled some friends who were passing by and
keeps walking towards the main parking lot.  As he approached a black van,
the driver got out and opened the back door for him, and he got in without
even saying "thank you".
        The van left campus and proceeded northward about twenty miles into
the Indiana countryside before reaching a large, dark mansion on the outskirts
of town.  Parking just inside the gate, the driver got out, opened the back
door, and spoke to him.  Zombie-like, the college student walked up the drive-
way to the house, through the front door, and into a large room.
        Inside the room was a man.  He stood about six feet tall and wore
an all-black bodysuit with a red cape (a la Brainiac).  As the mesmerized
young man approached him, the man turned and studied him.
        About 2 feet away from the man, the student dropped to one knee and
bowed.  "...I have come to serve you, milord.", he said mechanically.
        "What is your name, servant?", the man asked.
        "...Kenneth, milord."
        "And what is my name?"
        "...You are the Master of the Net.", Kenneth answered.
        Even outside by the van, evil laughter could be heard.

        The spreading of his control files had gone smoothly, just as ac-
cording to plan.  As more and more people were "converted", as he called
it, they began to get others to read the files.  It was just a matter of
time before the files found their way off of the IU campus.
        His constant posting to USENET worked out better than he could have
anticipated, however.  He covered many of the smaller newsgroups, but there
was no way he could do *all* of the newsgroups; he'd die of boredom.  That's
why he was looking for the rnring.  [The rarest of items, it would allow a
person to post to any newsgroup, regardless of what newsserver you were
on]  If he could get ahold of that ring, the world would be his.
        How was he able to have these files on the net, you may ask?
With his highly advanced computer systems, he was able to insert hidden mes-
sages into almost any file.  So it was only a slight leap of intelligence
(and he was super-intelligent) to send these hidden messages over the net,
either via e-mail or newsgroups.
        The messages sent, of course, were of the type that tended to put
people under somebody's mental control.  And he was that somebody.
        For, after all, he was the Master of the Net.

        Several weeks later, the Master of the Net contemplated his next
course of action.
        "Kenneth!", he barked.  "Come and serve me, my servant!"
        A young man, looks to be in his early 20s, walks into the room.
        "...Yes, milord?", he asks.
        "Servant, how many people have been converted since the Society
came into being?", the Master of the Net asked.
        "...At last count, there were over 10,000 converts, and 230 un-
converted people waiting to be converted, milord.  That was this morn-
ing."
        "Show them some movies, servant.", the Master of the Net said.
        "Yes, milord.", Kenneth said.
        "Dismissed."
        Kenneth turned and left the room, walking just like the other
"zombie-people" in the Master's army.  But it was all part of the Master's
plan.  Everything was.
        Everything including the rnring, of course.  He needed that ring,
lest his takeover of the Net fail.
        "Milord, what are you going to do about the LNH?", the servant
at the monitoringn computer asked.
        "Did you say the LNH?", the Master of the Net asked.  "Bwah-ha-
ha-ha-ha!!!!  Do not worry, servant.", he said.  "Any day now, one of
them will fall under my control, and it will not be long before the entire
LNH is mine!  Mu-Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!!"
        At his terminal in the LNHQ, Bad-Timing Boy sat down to read the
newsgroups, and Irony Man took an aspirin for his sudden headache.


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