----- Necronomicon Press Issue 1 Alone in a suburban house, four people sat around a table. The first was John Draper, or "Captain Crunch." The second was Joe Engressia. And the other two were nameless blind people. There they sat, relics of the past, contemplating the past as if it were more genuine than the present. 23 miles away, four CIA agents in a van were speeding in the direction of these four relics. The first one on the left, code named "Agent Steel," was just that: steel. His nerves were steel and his heart was steel. The next person to the right of Agent Steel was Mogel, the CIA expert on terrorism and threats to society. The third, sitting next to Agent Mogel, was Creed, a man with no family and very little conscience. The last man was Joe. Joe was a man set out to destroy the future dissidents and heretics that would influence a number of the nation's youth to run amok and pillage computer factories in an effort to destroy the 'information era.' These men did not play games, nor did they exist to commit worthless acts of sabotage or mayhem. But there was one thing they were good at, and that was killing. 210 miles up into the earth's atmosphere was an eagle. The eagle had razor- sharp eyes. Its eyes could pierce the earth and search out anything. The eagle was a satellite, part of the NSA's keyhole satellite system. The eagle's mission was to keep an eye on John Draper and to see if he was causing any disruptions in the balance between the government and the people. John was a threat to the government. The government had seen his mind, and they knew what he was thinking. They hated him, but they needed him, also. As the satellite passed over John Draper's home, its lens opened and started to "roll tape" on the house. All quiet. It relayed this information down to the NSA headquarters in Fort Meade, Maryland. From the NSA it went over a datalink fiber-optic cable to the Pentagon, all the while encrypted with the tightest encryption methods. From the Pentagon it would be sent to the CIO - the Central Imagery Office. Four blocks away from John Draper's home, 23 FBI agents waited in four black unmarked vans. Their mission was to secure the area around John Draper's home and to evacuate the neighbors. They were used to this kind of thing. The CIA often used them for tedious tasks, although this was against policy. Of course, this was never mentioned outside of the two agencies. Back in John Draper's house, the four of them talked the new, upcoming plans they would implement for their new world order. They spoke of acts of terrorism, in the Government's eyes. They spoke of heretical ideas and views. They brought fear to the Government. But the Government had faced this sort of thing before, and they knew how to deal with it. They knew how to wipe out the spots that caused the Americans to get out of order, and they knew how to reverse things and set things back up right. Yet it did not appear so. It seemed like everyday people were being undermined in the so- called civilized society. But this was all propaganda. And few knew of it. Joe Engressia sensed something was wrong. There was a noise, a strange noise. It came from outside. It sounded like a block party. "I think something's happening outside," said Joe. "Check it out," John said. Outside the house Joe saw that people were being thrown out of their houses and taken into vans. The roads were being blocked off, and the once-quiet suburban street was being emptied out. "Shit, something's going on." The others went to the window; they all felt what was coming. The FBI agents were almost done evacuating the block and the roadblocks were in place. The CIA agents would be there any moment now, and the mission would be completed shortly. "Fuck this, i'm getting out of here," said John Draper as he hauled ass to his back door. But just then, in an instant, two CIA agents burst down the back door and tackled The Captain. As John wrestled with the CIA agents on the floor, a third appeared from the front door and hit John with a billy club, rendering him unconscious. The other three, seeing what had happened, attempted to flee out the front door, but three FBI agents already were there, waiting. The three FBI agents approached them and injected a fluid into the other three's necks. In a couple seconds the three were on the floor, unconscious. Several men that 'did not exist' carried the four "terrorists" out the door and threw them into another black unmarked van. The inside of the van was padded, with no windows or handles on the door. The four were handcuffed, just in case they would wake up before they reached their destination. Time passed, and the group of men separated by views and ethics reached one of the many CIA branch offices secretly located around the country. Joe Engressia was already awake, but still in a daze. They had been laid on stretchers and securely strapped down so they could barely move. Joe Engressia and the two other blind people had been moved together to a room several stories below the ground. The top of the CIA branch office was a front. It was a legit business that made microprocessors. Only the Chairman and a few other members on the board, who were CIA agents, knew of the secret levels below the factory. The room where Joe Engressia and the other two were stored was not painted. The walls were concrete, there were no windows, and there was only one door, which was solid steel. Once again, as in the van, it had no inside handle. On the top of the right wall was a long mirror, which Joe suspected to be a monitoring two-way mirror. John Draper had been wheeled into a similar room, but it was padded. In fact, every wall - even the ceiling and floor of the room - was padded. Again, on the right wall toward the ceiling was another large mirror. John Draper was released from the stretcher and thrown onto the padded floor. The door quickly closed behind him. As in the other room there was no handle, but the door was padded, unlike the other room. It must have been hours that they were left there. By now all four of them had regained conciousness and were fully awake. The rooms were pitch dark. They had lights, but were not turned on. Later, after a wait that seemed almost like days, a man came into the room and fed the three in the stretchers. John Draper, in the other room, was not fed, however. Several days passed and the four where beginning to lose all hope of ever seeing light again, let alone be released. John Draper was starving and had soiled his clothes. The other four were sometimes escorted to the bathroom, and sometimes fed. John started to show signs of malnutrition. The CIA agents sensed this and fed him a small meal and gave him some injections. It was not enough to properly feed John but it kept him from dying. Several more days passed and "The Captain" was taken into another room. This room was smaller, but it had a cot and a toilet and sink. Other then that, there was nothing - not even sheets for the cot. The lights in the room were dim but better then the days of darkness he had somehow survived. He was fed once a day and began to gain weight. The next day John was taken into yet another room and was strapped into a chair similar to a dentist's. The room was not unlike the first room he was in, except its lights were turned on, and the inside door had a handle. Agent Mogel entered the room and John recognized him at once as the agent who first tackled him back at his house. A metal cart next to the chair carried a large box on it, with a voltage meter and two wires leading out of it into John's blood stream, like an IV needle. John sensed what this was. "State your full name." Agent Mogel demanded. "Fuck... you..." John said. At once the voltage in the box was raised, and at Mogel's command, John felt PAIN. He screamed out and felt as if his scream would never end - but it did, and the pain was then over. "That was the lowest level. You refuse to answer my questions or lie to me, and I will increase the level up one step." "Please... no more.. no more..", moaned Captain Crunch. "Just answer the questions. Now, state your full name." "John Lewis Draper." "Good, and your occupation?" "I make corporate web pages." The interrogation went on for two hours this way, asking meaningless questions. Finally it began to pick up. "What do you think of the government?" "I don't mind it." "WRONG. You hate it, I told you not to lie." The box was once again activated and even more pain flowed into The Captain. "Are you ready to answer with truth?" No answer. "ARE YOU READY TO ANSWER WITH TRUTH?" persisted the agent. "Yes.." said John in a low voice. "Good.. now what do you think of the government?" "I hate it and everything it stands for." "Very good - you did not lie this time. I know when you lie and when you speak the truth, so don't even attempt to lie again." Over a thousand miles away in Philly, 50 or so computer geeks where gathered, chatting about IRC and computers. The convention was called 'Dummercon' and was a get-together for e'zine writers and readers from the IRC channel #zines. Many of them possessed a great deal of knowledge - not just computers, but on real-world topics. Many of them were antisocial people, looking for attention on IRC. Some of them were dreamers, and some of them, hopeless. One stood out from the crowd. He was most different from the rest of the crew, and was also viewed as a threat to the government. His handle was phorce. phorce was very interested in all kinds of computer-related topics, but his main interest was the government. His room at home was lined with books about the DoD, CIA, NSA, FBI, and other government-related topics. Some of his favorites were written by George Orwell, such as _1984_, or _Animal_Farm_. He did not have a like for the government as it might have seemed, but he hated it. He wanted to undermine it and he wanted to control it at the same time. No, phorce was not an anarchist seeking to destroy the government and for everyone to be equal - he was out to rule the government, and to control it and it's people. Like John Draper, he was also being watched. But because of his age, it would be a little more complicated to capture and "cure" him. The government would have to wait until later for this. The convention went on and phorce spoke with many of the different friends he had never met before, apart from their typing on a computer screen. Federal agents where present, as usual, and watching phorce. They noted everything he did, and even his gestures and facial expressions, which later they would decipher to see what he might have been thinking. phorce possessed skill and courage, and later in life would become a REAL threat to the government. The feds knew this; but, of course, if the feds' plans went right (and they always did), he would never reach that level and would be "cured." With phorce was another person. His handle was Mutter. Mutter was satanic. He believed in his cause very much, and he believed that at his death, Satan would save him, and he would live forever in pain. Pain that he accepted and which he would enjoy, he thought. Mutter was a fool, he believed these things which most people did not, and most people were not fools. Mutter, however, was not a threat to the government. The government's view on Mutter was 'let him think how he wants.' He posed no threat to the government. Sure, one day in life he might murder, or steal - but that did not affect the government. It only undermined society, and the government is not society; the government is the illuminati of the world, controlling all. Just as John Draper and Mutter tried to undermine the government and to somehow stop it they knew it would never work. The government picks them out from society, and they know the bad apples soon after they are born. The government is insane, not the people. The people are stupid, but not insane. One day, as always, the illuminati will crash and burn. And only from the rubble of the old empire will emerge another group of patriots to form a new government and to control people again, gradually tightening their hold on the people's minds and actions. Humans can never protect themselves from each other. One day, all will be clear when death becomes a reality and you are joined with the other side. Life is insanity controlled by a few humans, and it can never be stopped. Death is freedom when everything becomes clear. Author's notes: Who are these people? Well, some of the names are real, and all of the handles are real. No one in this story is real, however, and the people in real life are not anything like the characters in this story. What is all of this? Is it shit? I don't know, but it was a thought of mine, and it caused me to change a lot of my viewpoints on things. ... the ftp-site-person's notes: get all your necronomicons from ftp://ftp.openix.com/ftp/phorce/necronomicon oh, and dummercon *is* a reality. it'll be on july 13th, 1996. get the info at ftp://ftp.openix.com/ftp/phorce/dummercon.nfo - and don't miss out.