SiSU: - Homeland - Cory Doctorow

Homeland
Of course, once my laptop was open on the workbench beside me, it was inevitable that
I'd have a sneaky peek at my email -- looking at my laptop without checking in would be
like going to the cupboard and not snagging a cookie.
To: ‹marcusyallow@pirateparty.org.se›
From: Leaky McLeakerpants
Subject: carrie johnstone d0x
2 use as u see fit
It was signed with a little ASCII-art Guy Fawkes face made out of punctuation marks and
letters, and attached to the email was a gigantic ZIP file.
I had a pretty good idea what that was: every single fact and fantasy that could be had about
Carrie Johnstone and what she was up to. I'd seen d0xxes that went back to second grade
report cards, ones that included the subjects' kids' medical records, everything. Nothing
was off-limits when you were being d0xxed.
I closed my laptop's lid and closed my eyes.
A big part of me didn't want to see the docs in that folder. I had plenty of secret docs in my
life already. And I knew what it was like to be totally, absolutely invaded. Carrie Johnstone
had done it to me. So had the jerks who'd rooted my laptop. Somewhere in the world,
someone might be staring at an email whose subject line was “Marcus Yallow d0x.”
The thing was, I knew I was going to open that zip file. Of course I was. Who wouldn't?
Carrie Johnstone was a monster: kidnapper, torturer, murderer. War criminal. Powertripping
mercenary. Scumbag and commander of scumbags. She was hunting me, too.
Let's not forget that. Now that the story was out, wouldn't Zyz be back? How long until I
met Timmy and Knothead again? Would I end up at the bottom of the Bay this time?
I had to open it. It was self-defense. In fact, I'd bet the only reason Carrie Johnstone hadn't
had me whisked away to some private torture chamber was that she assumed that I'd been
sneaky enough to gather this kind of dossier and had it ready to dump, on a dead man's
switch, if I got disappeared. People like Carrie Johnstone always assume everyone else
thinks like them. Not like people like me. People like me are good people. We deserve to
read other peoples' dirty laundry. Especially bad people.
I was such a coward.
I unpacked the folder and started browsing the docs.
You would have done it, too.
-..-
“Marcus?” a voice said, some eternity later. It was Lemmy, the Noisebridger who'd given
me and Ange our ride back from Burning Man. He was in his forties, an old ex-punk with
SiSU www.sisudoc.org/ 185