Soji has removed boxes from a hand truck and is inspecting them. A stocky guy dressed in slacks and a wrinkled short sleeve shirt is watching him. He has a plastic thing in his shirt pocket with pencils, pens, calipers and several small screwdrivers in it. In one hand is a bulging valise.
"How long is this going to take?"
Startled, the guy turns to look at me. His eyes do a slow crawl down to my chest, body and legs, then back to my chest and remain there. Addressing my breasts, he says, "I was told you have connections already available, Ma'am. If so, this should take only a few minutes."
Lead him into the study. "You're an IS employee at Pere?"
"Well, one of Pere's subsidiaries called Chief Financial Services, yes, Ma'am."
"How long?"
"Six weeks, Ma'am."
"What's your specialty in IS?"
"Uh, anything, I guess."
"What's your first name?"
"Alvin."
"Mine's Jill. Do you mind answering a few questions while you work, Alvin?" Glance at Soji, who wheels in the hand truck with its boxes, rolls his eyes and leaves the room.
He blushes deeply. "Uh, no Ma'am, I don't." Opening the valise, he spreads it open on the desktop. Inside is a bewildering collection of tools, meters and wires. He removes a flashlight and crawls under the desk, shining the light at the wall.
After inspecting the items in his valise, I kneel slowly so I can see what he is doing. "So, are you installing the ex dot cable or the modem cable?"
He pauses, turns and looks at me as if I've just asked something obviously stupid. At least he is looking at my eyes instead of my tits. Pushing his glasses up his nose using his middle finger, he says, "Both use the same cable. When the X.25 service is available, we just switch you over to that." He turns to examine the plate on the wall with two telephone outlets.
"That's handy, isn't it?"
"Handy? They designed it that way. The cable is an eye triple-E spec, Ma'am." He backs out, opens one of the boxes and removes one of several cables, glancing at the wall and then the desk.
"Eye triple-E spec?"
"The Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers releases specifications and standards that the electronics community reviews and approves so that everything in North America has compatible signaling and interfaces."
"Ah, IEEE. The automobile engineering trades have similar standards."
He glances at me as if to say, "Yeah right," and asks, "Where would you like the terminals, uh, Jill?"
"In the far corner of each desk."
He opens one of the two biggest boxes and looks at the open space in the far corner. "Uh, excuse me, Jill. Could you go get that Asian guy to help me move this terminal, please?"
"How heavy is it? Eighty pounds?"
Alvin has broken a slight sweat, which awakens his body odor. He glances at me. "It's seventy-eight pounds."
"Ah, no problem." Push myself up using the edge of the desk, spread my feet on either side of the box, bend my knees and lift the terminal out of the box. Turning, I lift it to shoulder height to clear the other stuff on Lloyd's desk and set it down gently in the corner. My right shoulder blade feels like someone laid a hot iron across it but the pain dissipates quickly. Stand back, look at the terminal and then turn to look at him.
He is kneeling on the floor staring up at me, his mouth hanging open, eyes moving up and down my body. Slowly, he looks at the terminal and then at me again. "Uh, that's fine," he says and selects one of the cables from several in a box.
While he's looking at cables, I pick up the other terminal and set it on my desk. The pain lingers this time, as if my body is saying, `Do that one more time and you will regret it.'
Alvin holds up a cable and says, "This end plugs into the jack at the rear of the unit."
"Okay, push it up to me from under the desk and I'll plug it in." Put one bare foot on the edge of Lloyd's desk, step up and squat beside the terminal. Look at him staring at me. "Go ahead," I tell him.
He crawls under the desk and pushes two cables up along the wall to me.
Take them and plug one into the power connector and the other into a sort-of rounded rectangular port. It fits snugly and fastens into place with two captured screws. "Nice connection," I say. "What's the IEEE spec for this connector?"
"DB-25," he says as he plugs the other connector on the cable to a small box and then into the wall jack. "This other end is RJ-11. The signaling on the cable is RS-232C." He crawls out and stands up. Alvin looks at me squatting on the desktop next to the terminal. "Uh, the switch is right. . . ." He points at the terminal with his wrist.
Climb down from Lloyd's desk and say, "Let's hook up mine and switch it on. Lloyd can switch on her terminal."
Alvin nods, crawls under my desk with two cables and pushes both up to me.
Connect it and flip the switch, hearing a slight hum. Glance down at the screen. Seeing that it is blank, I look at him.
"Takes a few seconds to warm up," says Alvin. "Called a green screen."
Gradually, green characters appear on the screen. Crawl down slowly to sit in the chair, watching the screen. The characters glow brightly now. In one corner are a few characters that say login followed by a blinking vertical line.
"That's your login prompt, uh, Jill, and that blinking line is the cursor. Just type in your username, jillp3408, and press the Enter key."
After I do what he says, the cursor moves down one line. "3408 is the last four of my telephone number?"
"Right. Now type your password. It will prompt you to change it later, but right now, it's paSSword11. Everything is lower case except the Ss. When you replace your password, use non-dictionary words with upper and lower case characters and a couple of numbers. Make sure you use at least seven characters."
"Why?"
"Called strong authentication. I enabled it so I know it's really you logging on to your terminal. The system will also force you to change your password every thirty days. Never give your password to anyone."
Type it in and press the Enter key. Up pops a menu:
Menu
Review voice messages
Review voice routing
Review email messages
Compose an email message
Review a position description
Review a resume
Review a document
Open another session [F1 - F8]
Switch to a session [Alt F1 - F8]
Logout
"Cool," I whisper, looking up at Alvin. He has a knowing grin on his face. "What's email, Alvin?"
"Electronic mail."
"Why would I open eight sessions?"
"Say you're reviewing a resume and a document like a cover letter, each in a separate session and you decide you want to write an email about it."
"Oh. Are there other shortcuts? Of course there are. What are they?"
"Yes there are but I haven't granted you access to the command line to execute them yet."
"Ah, so I see only what you allow me to see. What's this system called, Alvin?"
"What, the terminal?"
"No, the system that you enabled for strong authentication. The system you used to set up this menu."
"Oh, that's the operating system, uh, Jill. It's Unix."
"Unix," I breathe. "And the mainframe that Unix runs on, what is that called?"
"A host."
"Can hosts communicate?"
"Sure, using one of the computer networks," says Alvin. "There's the computer science network, called CSNET. The Advanced Research Projects Agency network is ARPANET. Of course, the military has a network called MILNET."
"Are the networks connected?"
"Not MILNET now, but they were until last year," says Alvin. "The military took more than half of the connected hosts into MILNET. Last year, ARPANET and CSNET set up a gateway between their networks. Everybody's starting to call these connected hosts the Internet now, like an inter-network."
"Can you send me stuff to read on this?"
"It's kind of boring," says Alvin, staring at me.
"I'll call if I have questions."
"Okay, but use email, Jill. I monitor that more than I do voicemail."
Nodding, I say, "Beat it, Alvin. I want to use this." As he begins to gather boxes and tools, I add, "You'll be hearing from me."
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License