Backstory for Tronblr
"Honey, please stop kicking my desk. It's bad for the computer. And stop acting like this is a punishment. You're getting the day off of school, isn't that enough?"
In defiance of her mother's words, Frankie Desmond slouched lower in her chair, though she did switch to bouncing her knee impatiently. "But Mom, I'm bored. When do you get to the interesting stuff? Can I go play with the laser?"
Her mother looked at her sharply. "No, of course not. That's delicate equipment that is not to be played with. And anyway, this is plenty interesting. See..." And she set off on another overly-detailed explanation of what she was doing. Frankie tuned her out.
The office they were in was small, with a desk, a filing cabinet, and a computer. Frankie normally would be just fine with that, but her mother was using the computer to work, and she hadn't brought her laptop. Bring Your Kid To Work Day had sounded fun--how many mothers worked for the biggest software company in the world, after all? But in practice, it was a lot of sitting around listening to explanations of various programs' coding that went waaaaay over her head. She'd almost prefer math class.
After a while, there was a knock at the door, pausing the explanation. "Ms. Desmond?" A secretary poked her head in. "We need your help for a moment, are you busy?"
Frankie's mom shook her head. "No, not too busy." She stood, ruffling the teen's hair. "Wait for me here, all right, kiddo?"
"Yes, Mom."
"No playing with the laser."
Frankie sighed. "No, Mom."
The door closed, and the sound of the two women talking faded as they went down the hall.
As bored as she was before, now she was bored and lonely. Afraid to touch the computer for fear that the building would blow up or something, she'd opted to start counting the ceiling tiles, when the door opened again.
"Francine--oh, hello." The woman who entered looked nonplussed. She was probably in her 30's. She had aged well and looked quite pretty, but she also had an air of authority to her that hinted that she was not to be trifled with. "You're Francine's daughter, right?"
The girl nodded, sitting up properly. "I'm Frankie. Mom's helping with something else right now, don't know when she'll be back."
The woman stuck out her hand. "I'm Amanda Dillinger. Would you mind if I waited with you?"
"Nah, not at all." Frankie smiled, and Amanda took the empty seat in front of the computer.
"So, has your mom told you what she's working on?" She spun the seat around once, making Frankie giggle, and then turned to face her.
"Kinda. She used words I don't know, so I didn't quite get it." Frankie shrugged.
"Well...here." Amanda opened up a new window. "Want me to show you how to make one?"
Frankie stood up straighter in her seat and leaned towards the screen. "Would I!"
"Let's start with a simple encryption program. You can use it to write notes to your friends that no one else can read. Sounds good?"
Frankie nodded vigorously. Amanda typed a few lines of code, then frowned. "Silly me. Here, you sit, and I'll tell you what to type." She stood and nodded to the empty space.
Nervously, Frankie took the seat. "O-okay." She examined the screen. "Hello, Espion," she said softly to the uncoded program, naming her in French.
Under Amanda's tutelage, slowly the program formed in Frankie's hands, streams and threads of data coalescing into a bright white, shining shape.
On the Grid, the newly-formed infant program looked up at the two in awe. "My Users."
In defiance of her mother's words, Frankie Desmond slouched lower in her chair, though she did switch to bouncing her knee impatiently. "But Mom, I'm bored. When do you get to the interesting stuff? Can I go play with the laser?"
Her mother looked at her sharply. "No, of course not. That's delicate equipment that is not to be played with. And anyway, this is plenty interesting. See..." And she set off on another overly-detailed explanation of what she was doing. Frankie tuned her out.
The office they were in was small, with a desk, a filing cabinet, and a computer. Frankie normally would be just fine with that, but her mother was using the computer to work, and she hadn't brought her laptop. Bring Your Kid To Work Day had sounded fun--how many mothers worked for the biggest software company in the world, after all? But in practice, it was a lot of sitting around listening to explanations of various programs' coding that went waaaaay over her head. She'd almost prefer math class.
After a while, there was a knock at the door, pausing the explanation. "Ms. Desmond?" A secretary poked her head in. "We need your help for a moment, are you busy?"
Frankie's mom shook her head. "No, not too busy." She stood, ruffling the teen's hair. "Wait for me here, all right, kiddo?"
"Yes, Mom."
"No playing with the laser."
Frankie sighed. "No, Mom."
The door closed, and the sound of the two women talking faded as they went down the hall.
As bored as she was before, now she was bored and lonely. Afraid to touch the computer for fear that the building would blow up or something, she'd opted to start counting the ceiling tiles, when the door opened again.
"Francine--oh, hello." The woman who entered looked nonplussed. She was probably in her 30's. She had aged well and looked quite pretty, but she also had an air of authority to her that hinted that she was not to be trifled with. "You're Francine's daughter, right?"
The girl nodded, sitting up properly. "I'm Frankie. Mom's helping with something else right now, don't know when she'll be back."
The woman stuck out her hand. "I'm Amanda Dillinger. Would you mind if I waited with you?"
"Nah, not at all." Frankie smiled, and Amanda took the empty seat in front of the computer.
"So, has your mom told you what she's working on?" She spun the seat around once, making Frankie giggle, and then turned to face her.
"Kinda. She used words I don't know, so I didn't quite get it." Frankie shrugged.
"Well...here." Amanda opened up a new window. "Want me to show you how to make one?"
Frankie stood up straighter in her seat and leaned towards the screen. "Would I!"
"Let's start with a simple encryption program. You can use it to write notes to your friends that no one else can read. Sounds good?"
Frankie nodded vigorously. Amanda typed a few lines of code, then frowned. "Silly me. Here, you sit, and I'll tell you what to type." She stood and nodded to the empty space.
Nervously, Frankie took the seat. "O-okay." She examined the screen. "Hello, Espion," she said softly to the uncoded program, naming her in French.
Under Amanda's tutelage, slowly the program formed in Frankie's hands, streams and threads of data coalescing into a bright white, shining shape.
On the Grid, the newly-formed infant program looked up at the two in awe. "My Users."