The cloud and the clock E-Book

Rosa Colonna

• Herausgeber: Rosa Colonna
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Claudio, a young hacker, accidentally stumbles upon a cloud data platform beyond his control and which he can’t make sense of. Discomforted, he asks his elderly professor De Grecis for help.

Professor De Grecis is a former philosophy professor of his, from his high school days. Professor De Grecis hypothesizes it may be Platonic hyper uranium and helps him reach the plain of truth, meeting notable characters along the way, including Descartes and Hegel.

At a certain point, between labyrinths and mysterious places, they meet Melania, a girl of Claudio's age, also an expert hacker, who is looking for secret data on behalf of a powerful and unknown client. After initial disarray, the three start a collaboration, embarking on a virtual journey full of surprises, interspersed with philosophical passwords and punctuated by paintings by Escher, Magritte, and Raphael, a journey which leads them, between twists and secret passages, to a classical theater. In the theatre, ancient works are being performed, leading to a final scene recreating the Platonic myth of Er, with the Moiras deciding the destinies of men, playing with DNA tapes.

Along the way, Professor De Grecis reflects on an important question originating from a sentence by Karl Popper: are we clouds or clocks? Are we tied to chance, like clouds, or determined by a mechanical necessity, like clocks?
And again: is there a Higher Mind organizing order in the world, making what is virtual appear real, and vice versa? 

Rosa Colonna, born in Bari (Italy), has a degree in philosophy and is a professor of Philosophy and History in high school. 
She is an expert in didactics and offers philosophical guidance. 
 

Leseprobe

Rosa Colonna

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Table of contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 1

-The main issue, my dear Claude, is only one: are we clouds or clocks?

-What do you mean, Professor? I am having trouble following you.

-Sure, I understand. Now I will give you an example that will help you make sense of this. Look at that cloud out there - and he pointed vaguely at the sky beyond the framed bar window. - Can you see it?

-Yup. You mean the big, shaded one above the church tower?

-I do. Observe its outline: it is unstable, it changes every second, following the wind. The cloud changes its shape all the time, it is so bizarre, whimsical, flakey… we can never predict its movement.

-So?

-Now look at this.

The professor took his heavy watch off his wrist, placed it delicately on the table, turning it over with a light and expert touch: under the transparent dial, the internal mechanisms and gears were visible.

-Look: every movement is deliberate, examined, programmed. This is the balance wheel, which makes the wheels move: observe the perfection of the teeth. Nothing is left to case here. Do you understand what I mean?

-To tell the truth, not really.

-But it's so simple! Think about it for a moment - he said moving forward, while his eyes lit up enthusiastically.

Claude looked at him with a mixture of admiration and uncertainty. Professor De Grecis, a mythical figure of his high school years, maintained all his strength and intellectual energy intact, in the magnetism of his gaze, in his intense and deep voice, and in his wide and fine-tuned gestures. As he got older, his mustache had turned white, the skin of his face had withered a little and the wrinkles had deepened, but the power of his charm was still the same that once bound the boys to their desks, entranced by his speech, by the power of his words and the staginess of his explanations. Claude continued to look for him at regular intervals, to ask for his opinion when he had doubts about the choices he had to make, and the professor made himself available. He enjoyed going to the meetings he himself arranged in that old fashioned café, with wooden tables from the Thirties, providing advice and help. Now, however, Claude could not understand what he was saying, and he felt as lost as when in high school the professor caught him unprepared. The professor stared at him with smiling eyes, taking stock of his disturbance and perplexity, caressing his face as a young inexperienced man.

- Claude, do you remember when I was talking to you about a casual event and causality, which is the relation between cause and effect?

- Yes, yes, that I remember. Just move the position of the letter U… and everything changes.

- Exactly. The cloud is a casual event, or, if you prefer, chaos (in Italian language caos is the anagram of “caso”, the letter is reversed as in the previous example), the clock is the cause, the tick-tock that keeps repeating in a foreseeable and orderly way: cause, effect, cause, effect ...

- The law of causality, yes ... Hume, Kant.

- Very well. You were a very brilliant student, I remember it vividly. You could have studied philosophy, instead of choosing computer science as a field of studies.

- Professor, I also liked computer science a lot. I wanted to get into the mechanics of the computer just like you taught us to get into the intricacies of philosophy.

- I know. And you got it right, apparently ... a programming genius.

- A genius, well ... Let's just say I'm good enough. But back to the advice I asked you for earlier, what can you tell me? What should I do? You know, I don't know whom to talk to about this.

- The fact is, dear Claude, that if you think you are a cloud, you have to let yourself be carried away by the wind, by what happens.

- What if I were a clock? Again, Professor, I feel like a minuscule part of a gear: I have no choice.

- Yes you do. It is free will, which goes beyond determinism, because you see dear boy, not everything is mechanical, so ...

- Professor, please. Leave this explanation for another time.

- Yes you are right. You have come here because you need help, and I am wasting your time with my absurd philosophical talk. But I feel you have already chosen, you just want some encouragement from me. This new job attracts you, makes you feel important: that's it, isn't it?

- It's true. But I'm also afraid of it.

- Fear of the unknown! Go ahead, my boy. But tell me - he added suddenly suspicious, after a short pause - you are not by chance becoming a dangerous criminal, one of those, what are they called? hackers?

- The boundary between what you can and what you can't do is very blurred… you taught me, professor.

- So is that true? Are you a hacker?

- I'm paid to get into codes, programming languages. Even the secret ones, but only to unmask the possible dangers. I know, it will seem immoral to you, but it is.

- I never judge. But be careful, son. Where there is too much money, there are too many scams.

- Professor! Don't tell me that, I know what I'm doing. Rather: did you make up the story of clouds and clocks?

Professor De Grecis chuckled: - I'd like to confirm that, dear son. But you know, I'm poor but honest, and I could never take credit for something that isn't mine… well, it's Popper’s.

-Karl Popper? The Karl Popper of the theory of falsification?

- Congratulations, congratulations, my boy. I am very impressed, I knew you were one of my best students. You could have studied philosophy ... too bad.

CHAPTER 2

-Mark! Hey, Mark!

-Claude, what happened? Are you sick?

-You have to come here, you just have to. I have a computer problem and only you can help me solve it.

-Now? But you are out of your mind. Do you know what time it is?

-I know, I know, it's very late. Please Mark, come on, an extraordinary thing has happened ... something never seen before. Come here now, I need help urgently.

-Unfortunately, I can't tell you no. Okay, okay, I'll be there soon.

Sitting in front of the computer, almost hypnotized, Claude stared at the screen with an astonished expression, his eyes wide open and his hands motionless on the keyboard. He looked at the monitor with his eyes following luminous movements drawing light graphics on the screen and did not notice Mark standing behind him.

-Claude! What is this stuff?

-Mark, how did you get in?

-I still have the keys to this apartment, don't you remember? We have been sharing it for five years!

-Yes, Of course. Please consider this image ...

-Wow! What is this?

-Look and tell me what you think.

Mark took his place next to Claude, in front of the computer, and scrutinized the video: in a short time, his face changed expression, just like Claude’s.

-I swear, I've seen nothing like it. Twenty years of high-level computer programming, but I have seen nothing like this. The pixel resolution is super high, atrocious, and those 3D effects, with the planes intersecting each other on multiple levels… tell me, how did you get to this point?

-I'm doing that job I told you about a few days ago, it was commissioned by an important company. I need to connect to a top secret data cloud platform.

Mark looked at him with a penetrating gaze: -Be careful, eh, if it's compromising stuff.- Don't get your fingers burnt.

-You taught me the secrets of the trade.

-Exactly, I don't want to have you on my conscience. I keep away from dangerous jobs, you don't know what can happen to you. I am sure I taught you that too.

-I know, I know ... but how could I turn it down? The offer was very tempting, I wanted to try something new. I was undecided imagine this, I also asked Professor De Grecis for advice.

-You must be crazy. What do you think that old crazy man thinks of our computer programs?

-Well, for me he was a guide, a teacher of life.

-And what did he tell you?

-To be careful, just like you.

-Okay, okay, you are stubborn and you accepted. So, tell me how did you get to this screen?

-Let's proceed in an orderly fashion. - Claude took a deep breath - I went into MS-DOS, as we always do when we want to get to the data cloud platforms. I used the steps you have used other times to get into the programs and everything went smoothly. I used various programming languages, then occasionally, when I needed the access passwords, I looked for them on the other computer, through the software that allows you to decode encrypted passwords.

-So far so good. And then?

-Then I must have entered the wrong password. I noticed it as soon as I finished writing it, I wanted to delete it and correct it, but the program had started and brought me to another screen, containing unknown strings.

-Unknown? Are we talking about a compiler language or a machine language?

-Neither, I'm afraid. I ran the last string… and this screen you have before your eyes appeared.

-Did you note the wrong password?

-Yes sure. It is wrong for what I wanted to do, but it is the right password for this screen… Mark, please check. What do you think?

-Well, I've seen a lot of strange things, but this one surpasses them all. Stairs, tower buildings, windows… and everything is in motion. It reminds me of something, but I don't know what it is. Wait, wait a minute, that's what it is: it looks like an Escher painting, maybe Relativity, or something like that.

-Yes, but this moves, and it is interactive. Look at this little man at the base of the ladder, we might click on it.

-Try it, let's see.

-Here, I clicked, the door is opening, there is an encrypted message on two lines, could you decode it?

-Wow, imagine this! I will copy it and then let you know, it should not be difficult to discover what it means. Anyway, I have to say, it's all very strange.

-Right, huh? I think so too. I wonder if it's a game, or something more dangerous.

-It could be both: we'll never know if we don't get inside. I'll try to solve the mystery of the message, and then how about popping into the lab and putting on the simulators? I'd like to climb those stairs and walk in through that door.

-I have to write down all the steps I took to get here, otherwise we won't be able to find the screen again. Meanwhile, try to find the meaning of the message. Shall we talk about it tomorrow?

-In two or three days, I'd say. Decoding takes time and requires multiple attempts. I'll call you as soon as I get a grasp on it, okay?

-Ok, ok. Mark?

-What else do you want to know, Claude?

-Nothing. I'm scared.

CHAPTER 3

Melanie walked down the street, her long hair ruffled by the wind, her hands slipped casually into the pockets of her duster, her gait quick and confident despite her high heels. People turned to look at her, especially men, struck by her sinuous figure, by her face with a perfect complexion, by that “I don't know what” that emanated from her presence. She smiled noticing two young people who had stopped to observe her and were talking to each other without taking their eyes off her, amazed, almost astonished.

She lifted her head proudly, waving her golden brown hair around her face and shoulders. She had always been beautiful since she was a child. She remembered the comments of the teachers, when they spoke to each other in a low voice: “Look at those blue eyes, this little girl ... it's a pity that she is so poor”.

And it was true, she had had a very poor childhood, in a family always hungry, with her brothers fighting over the last sandwich, and she in a corner, frightened, nibbling on her share. She blinked back the tears that sprouted from her lashes - but why did her mind always go back to this? - and she began to thinking back to her adolescence with more relief, the first suitors at the commercial technical institute, the little hearts drawn on her diary. At school, however, the most handsome boys preferred the curvy, flashy schoolgirls who dressed in tight pants and designer shoes, and she was still in the corner like when she was a child, nibbling on her sandwich, with her long legs covered by old baggy jeans bought at the market, and the shirt always too loose or too short. Only in the computer lab did she feel great, important. The abilities of her school mates were simply ridiculous compared to what she could do, if only she had a keyboard and a computer at her disposal. The professors called her “the sorceress”. This magic was not actually born out of nowhere, it resulted from long lonely afternoons spent tinkering with an old machine from the early nineties, one of those large and heavy electronic computers that soon became obsolete, which she had practically collected from the garbage dumpster.

Her passion for electronics was born in an insurance office where her mother took her with her when she went to do the cleaning; an employee, struck by her blue eyes, had made her play with a computer, to entertain her while her mother worked, and she was immediately fascinated by the colored screen, by the writings, by everything that could be done. In a short time she had become so savvy that the clerk would ask her for help when she had a problem, and then, when the company had given away the old outdated computers to buy new ones, she had taken one for herself. Information technology had become his world, his reality. The professors were amazed at what she could do, and nothing could stop her.

After graduation, she had enrolled in a graduate program for programmers, but she knew almost everything she was taught, and more. Then, one day, everything changed. She had received a call from a company for a job interview: she had introduced herself, had passed a test, and had been hired. She felt like she could touch the sky with her finger, she finally had an income, she could buy something asking no one for anything. When she got her first paycheck, she went to a downtown boutique and bought an expensive designer dress that made her look like a supermodel.

Still, the best was yet to come. Even in the workplace, as had happened at school, her ability was such that it went beyond the company: one day in the pizzeria she heard that at the next table they were talking about a girl extraordinarily skilled with the computer, and the references they cited gave her the certainty they were talking about her. Soon another phone call came, and then another one, and in a short time she changed employers several times, and her salary increased proportionally: she was also called as a consultant, brief but high-level jobs and professionalism, and she never disappointed her clients’ expectations, even if it involved having to work at night or in difficult conditions. By now she could afford to spend any amount on clothing and personal care, and the result was that men fell at her feet, fascinated, bewitched.

She was just going to an appointment with a man, for a confidential job interview: she did not turn down even questionable and dubious assignments, to earn high sums of money. What did she care, after all? She had suffered too much from misery to have any moral scruples, she took the job no matter what. Had she refused, she knew someone else would have grabbed that opportunity. Each time she raised the stakes, for she had learned the stakes were high, and she could achieve a lot by harnessing her talent.

She had almost reached the café where she was to meet the man who had contacted her, but she felt uncomfortable because she had never seen him before. She hoped it would not be too difficult to recognize him based on the clues he had given her over the phone. Instead, there was no need, he sneaked up beside her with a stealthy step: - You are Melanie, right?

-Yes I am. Shall we talk at the café?

-No, forget it, there is too much confusion there. Come with me, I know a quieter place, right around the corner from here.

Melanie studied him out of the corner of her eye, suspicious: he was a man of about forty, well dressed, and looking distinguished. She followed him to where he had indicated, into a small, old-fashioned, dusty room with discolored curtains on the windows.

-Then? - As soon as they sat inside, she asked him in a dark corner.

-It’s a job.

-Well, I figured that. What kind of work?

-It is very delicate, it requires competence and secrecy. Do you think you are capable of it?

-Look - Melanie said, looking him straight in the eye, with a slightly aggressive tone. - Let's try not to waste any time, if I am here it is because I am interested, and you have contacted me because you have gotten information about me, so let's get right to the point, and I will tell you how much it will cost you.

-They told me you are a determined type, and you know what you are doing - the man answered with a half-smile - well, it’s better that way. I have little to say, they just sent me to get in touch, you will find all the instructions in the email we will send you.

-An E-Mail? I've never worked like this.

-Don't worry, we use very high security encrypted codes; we want to be absolutely sure that everything goes perfectly.

-Excuse me, you speak in the plural, which company are you talking about?

-You will find everything in the message, with precise information regarding your assignment.

-What about my pay?

-Ah, sure. We thought about this figure - and he showed her a note from his pocket.

-Double, I want double, otherwise we have no deal. And I need a down payment right away.

-Agree. We have also thought about this; here is an envelope with what you need. We only recommend that you strictly comply with the instructions and deadlines, as they will be communicated to you. Remember, you should never talk to anyone about this assignment.

-I'm not a newbie, I know what I am doing - Melanie said, pocketing the envelope.

-We will let you know more soon.

-Good. See you soon. Will you and I meet again, Mister…?

-Oreste. However, we will not meet again; if necessary, you will meet with some of my colleagues. I'm leaving on another mission, I'll be gone for a long time.

-Good luck with your new endeavor.

-Good luck to you too, Melanie.

CHAPTER 4

Professor De Grecis sipped his cappuccino as he looked, perplexed, at the clock placed on the table next to the tray.

-Do you want anything else?- asked the waitress, politely, taking the cup away.

-No, no, I'm waiting for a friend.- And sighing, he took the newspaper and opened it carefully, smoothing out the corners and getting ready to read. Finally the sound of the glass door opening roused him, and Claude appeared in front of him, panting, out of breath, with the air of someone who hadn't slept all night.

-Teacher! Excuse me, excuse me, I'm crazy late, I was afraid I wouldn't find you anymore. I wanted to warn you but I didn't know how to do it, if only you could be persuaded to buy a cell phone, like everyone else ...

-You know I'm against it, on principle. You could have called the café and let the waitress tell me. Everyone here knows and respects me.

-The café, it's true ... I didn't think about it. You see, it's just that I spent a terrible night, practically sleepless. Then I fell asleep at dawn, but it was a restless sleep, with strange dreams. One in particular… I'd like to tell you about it.