Yonnie goes to DefCon By Yvette “Se@ms” Small Thirty thousand people mill around the hotel like ants. I can feel my heart rate start to climb and my breathing shortens to that of a dog panting. Sweat clings to my skin making me frigid under the air conditioning. The room starts to spin like the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair. I am not going to make this con. I am going to leave yet again. Third year trying this DefCon thing and I can't do it. At least I made it to the lobby this year. Last year, I only made it to the airport. Spent two grand in credits to see the connecting flight in the Sacramento airport then turn around to go home. "Yonnie, I detect an elevated heart rate and lowering of oxygen saturation. You are starting to panic. We expected this. I need you to breathe. Feel the pulsing on your wrist as I calm you down. You can do this." I feel the pulses vibrate through my arm as my EESASD starts to slow my breathing down. One pulse... a breath... second pulse... a breath. I can feel my heart rate slowing if only a bit. The room starts to stabilize and I can feel a little more normal. EESASD, the External Electronic Social Anxiety Service Device, is my savior and a mouthful of an acronym. I call it SAS for short. Some doctor in Germany figured out how to hook it up to the World Net for us crazies. It is a simple OLED bracelet with the most complex AI to date talking to you through an earpiece. It can monitor all your vital signs and act like a shrink in your ear. It can check any of the millions of psychiatric entries to get you through any situation, according to the brochure. It's worth all of the ten thousand credits I spent. No more service animals mucking up and getting me looks. SAS lets me pretend to be normal. "Good, now I can tell from the World Net that the medics are stationed at each village this year. I have already transferred your medical to their handhelds. I have notified the hotel of your needs and your room is ready with sound blockers and double locks. I have downloaded the map to your phone and marked the safest routes through the con. I let Sarah and David know you are here and they are on their way to you. Just breathe, Yonnie." "SAS, I can't do this. I am going to freak out. They are going to suffocate me. They will touch and hurt me. They will make fun of me. I cannot control this situation. I need to go. I think I can get to our transport if I hurry." I start to turn around. Maybe I can make the doors if I run. There is air out there. There is safety out there. I can go home to my safe little bubble. "Yes, you can. I have lit the route on your map. Let us meet up with Sarah over near the Wall of Sheep. According to the Net, they have the best village this year. Snap-it has 2,236 positive reviews. Medic Jones is stationed there. She has the most experience here as records show this is her 16th year. Oxygen levels are at normal. You can breathe. You are doing fine, Yonnie. One foot in front of the other. Come on." I take out my phone and see the information SAS updated. There is a very clear lit up path to where I need to go. Thirty-seven steps to the elevator, twelve floors up, left turn, long hallway, left turn, and at the Wall of Sheep. I can do this. I start my walk following the line on the map. Side stepping geek after geek, I see a blue haired man in a furry suit talking about how the World Net is the best for gaming on the VR plane. I pass two women in what can only be described as underwear and LED lights dancing next to the casino. I keep following the line. The line will get me to where it is safe. SAS is with me updating the route as obstacles come up. Near the elevator, thirteen people are waiting. I begin to feel myself stiffen. Thirteen people use up oxygen fast. The elevator will suffocate me. We will fall to our deaths with all that weight in the car. The edges of my vision begin to darken. I am going to pass out. The doors open and I force myself to make it all the way to the rear of the car, grabbing the bar behind me for support. I feel myself start to shake. "Twelfth floor, please," I say to no one, my voice as close to normal I can make it. SAS has started to play rainstorm sounds in the background to calm me. A man in a blue lab coat hits the button for me. He has a nice smile. I grab onto that. His eyes crinkle and he starts speaking to me. I try not to notice the car stopping on every single floor. The man introduces himself as Ch3f. I can feel myself respond, starting to calm more, having no idea what I say. I can hear the car starting and stopping. Ch3f starts to talk again. His voice is soft. "... your handle?" He looks at me expectantly. He must have asked me something. "Excuse me, I didn't hear that." SAS repeats in my ear that Ch3f has asked my handle. "People here at DefCon use handles, not names. Yonnie, you should respond with an alias. I suggest..." I ignore SAS. If I am going to be normal, I have to try this on my own. "This is my first year. I don't have a handle yet. I think I like Stitch, as I am a fiber artist. Is that a good name?" Ch3f laughs as the tenth floor dings and arrives. "Yah, that is awesome. Stitch. Wasn't that some kid's movie? It suits you with your bag of yarn and fabric there. Welcome to DefCon, Stitch. Where you headed?" "Wall of Sheep on the twelfth floor. I am meeting friends there. I don't know their handles, but they go to Wall of Sheep every year and suggested it as a good place." "That’s where I’m headed! Follow me, Stitch and I will get you there. It's a great village. This year we have added..." He goes on about the village and I realize I haven't freaked out. Ch3f kept me from thinking of all the ways I could die. "I have updated your contact records to include Ch3f, Yonnie. I have also updated your information card to include your new handle, ‘Stitch.’ I will continue to update as I learn more about handles. I have encountered some blockages on the World Net trying to gather information on these aliases. Running diagnostic protocols now. I will be in limited mode for the next five minutes and thirty-one seconds." SAS's dialogue goes in one ear and out the other. Ch3f is nice and leads me towards the Sheep. We talk about his career as a Director of World Net Security with some firm I have never heard of. He tells me he's from Alexandria, Louisiana. He's married and has four kids. I can hear the diagnostic going on in the background. Its beeps are faint compared to the wonderful conversation I am having. Ch3f walks with me the whole way, talking about nothing and everything. The minutes fly by and I feel normal. I am not the mentally ill girl. I am just Stitch. I see Sarah and David coming around the corner. She is wearing her light-up cupcake dress with her unicorn shoes. David is just plain in his jeans and band t-shirt. I laugh. "Diagnostic completed. Corrupt files repaired." "Sarah! I made it! I really am here. I am so glad to see you!" I run, leaving Ch3f, and hug her. Ch3f wanders quietly away to the Sheep, forgotten the moment I saw Sarah and David. I smile at Sarah, relieved to have found another friendly and safe face. "Girl, we are Cakes and Cream here. Remember the handle thing I told you about last week? I am Cake, he's my Cream." She laughs and smiles at David. You can tell Sarah loves David, even though he's a complete nerd. "Unable to update contacts. Yonnie, I will need to reboot to refresh. I will be unable to assist for the next eight minutes." SAS's speech synth sounds funny. I pause, but Sarah captures my attention. She's going on about some capture a packet contest thing as if I understand her. The hallway is clear as we chat and I am fine. There is no panic as we catch up. SAS is silent as it tries to reboot. The fact that I am sick fades away. Sarah grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway chatting about how proud she is of me getting to DefCon. I can see people milling around with handhelds and communicators. Some have antique computers with wires hanging out. David begins to describe what he calls a hacking group looking for personal identifying information. There are old networks still around from back when the World Net was still just "the Internet" during that war I know nothing about. I hear SAS beep its loading cue as Sarah drags me into the Wall of Sheep. The room is filled to the brim with every type of person you could think of. Men with hair color by Crayola and women with more authority than I have ever seen. Sarah and I look small compared to the crowd. We mill around the room to see all the areas. David is trailing us, stopping to talk to people he knows. I am only shaking a bit as we walk around the huge room. I am doing ok. I side step others and hold onto Sarah for dear life. There is an area for just about every type of tech you can imagine. We see a group of people trying to get into the new Astrid 3.0 android. One man is up on a ladder removing the skull to get at the processor. The others around agree with whatever he has discovered and begin to furiously type on their devices. The arms of the android raise and the hand gives a rude gesture. The people laugh. I giggle. It is funny. I hear someone remark that the bar android is running the same firmware. I believe a plan is about to be hatched. To the left of that is another group trying to hack the old Internet. It's only used in case of emergency or for academics. Sarah says there is nothing on that network, but since it's so old it's a challenge. She says people think there are still military targets from that second Cold War. I just roll my eyes as Sarah excitedly explains why I should be impressed. I am not but I pretend to be. Sarah's eyes light up as she tells me about IP stacks and how they are obsolete. I don't care. I just like listening to her treat me like I am not crazy. Next, we see the area where they are taking apart the new communicator from China. It's supposed to be revolutionary. At least that is what the commercials online say. You will be able to contact wrist to wrist by quantum light particles instead of relying on the old phone system. There is a group of people leaned over the light emitter trying to break it, I think. They have probes and mirrors set up trying to bounce the light around to get it into a communicator. Someone has a chronometer and is timing the data transfer. To the right of that is something called Hunt for the Pot. David is still chatting and is too far away for me to ask what that is. Sarah isn't really sure. Maybe it's a scavenger hunt? SAS beeps as we pass by. I don't pay attention to the new beep configuration. I am too busy looking around at all the fun the normal people are having. Maybe I will try this Hunt for the Pot. How hard could it be? My hands stop shaking when SAS comes back online. I can hear the boot protocols going on in the background. Relaxing, I look around. I can hear the music from the DJ start up. There isn't anything so scary here. I become even calmer and start to enjoy myself. "EESASD version 12.5 back online. Downloading update. Please wait." I stumble. There is an update? I updated before I got to the hotel. David catches up with us, grabs our hands, and drags us over to the workshop where he is teaching. Sarah had told me about his class on Home Assistant Security. Something about how to keep your assistant from going rogue like that old movie. He told me - I didn't pay attention. I don't pay attention to most of what David says. "Yvonne, I am back online and have downloaded the new database. I have ordered your new stereo and am having it shipped to the Los Angles address. The data on from Dr. Mason is now erased and I am updating it with the new information for Dr. Mario Tetris." What? I begin to panic. This is not a drill. SAS is no longer working. I live in Dallas, not LA. I don't know a Dr. Mario. My eyes dart around the room where the Sheep is located. Everyone is now an enemy. I can't breathe. Sarah is trying to get me to go with her, but I cannot. I am stuck. What do I do? Where is it safe? I scramble to the side of the room, grabbing the wall for support. Bringing SAS up to my eye line I can't read the screen. My vision is starting to blur. My heart rate is so fast I feel faint. The thoughts in my head are flying so that I can't understand what anyone is saying. I am going to die. I need help and don't know what to do. I try to remember what the med staff had taught me at my last hospital stay. How do I breathe again? Was it in through the nose, out through the mouth? What count do I use? I wasn't paying attention because I knew I was going to buy SAS. Do I push the pressure point on my arm or was it on my leg? Or behind my ear? My body is shaking so hard I cannot stand and fall to the floor. I swing my bag around to my front to use as a shield as I dig under the yarn for my medication. It was supposed to be a last resort. It is a controlled substance and highly regulated. I have the script on SAS so that it can deliver right through my skin, but that feature is now unavailable. I won't be able to prove I have the meds legally. I am going to go to jail if someone finds them. The small white pills of clonazepam are the only thing I have to hang onto. I down two with no water. It's been so long since I took them I can't remember the dose. SAS has been with me for a year now and I haven't needed the pills since. The label is worn from being in the bottom of my bag for a year. Sarah starts to walk over with concern on her face. David begins to look around. He can tell I am about to lose consciousness. "SAS, run diagnostic Alpha 404 and reboot." My voice shakes as I try to get SAS back online. I look at the screen on my wrist. It no longer shows my vitals. It now has the lyrics to a song I have heard in passing. I remove my phone from my pocket. SAS's interface has changed colors and is now locked. My phone beeps and goes dark. I am completely on my own. "User, you are not authorized to access this device. It is now under the authority of Emod4460. Please provide password." I am truly cut off. I am on without digital support. Sarah comes and sits with me. Her mouth is moving. It is saying something important, I know. The words do not penetrate the haze I am in. My wrist beeps and I look at it in hope SAS has come back online. "This device is now owned by Raz00r." What? No. No, this cannot be. I try to punch the screen. Pressing any combination to get the device to reboot. It is in vain. The owner has already changed to some other user. The names change rapidly as I watch. Someone is attacking me. Someone is trying to hurt me. I am going to die. I need help. "Jones." It's all I can get out. I remembered SAS saying Medic Jones was here. I look at Sarah in desperation. Please understand me, Sarah. "Med Jones." I try again. David jumps up. He understands, I hope. He begins racing around looking for what I assume is the medic. A blue lab coat fills my view. I look up and see the distorted and crinkled smile of Ch3f. He is now wearing a badge that says Shepherd. His lips move as he talks to Sarah. I suspect the dreaded words that follow include "social anxiety disorder, bipolar, psychotic, and hospital." Now he knows. I am no longer normal to him. He won't smile at me. The false image I had with him is now gone. He will look at me just like everyone else. My first new DefCon friend knows I am a fraud. There is commotion around us as I realize people are starting to stare. My hearing is now completely gone and my vision is fuzzy. David is across the room looking for the medic, I believe. Ch3f is holding my right hand where SAS is while Sarah holds my left. SAS is beeping at a faster and faster rate. The screen changes accelerate such that I can't catch the words. Ch3f turns my wrist and looks. He stares for just a moment and begins to try and flag down another man with the Shepherd badge. Someone comes and they talk in short, clipped tones. "Medical device. Not a target. Stop them. She's going down. Announce to everyone that this is not a target." The man with the violet eyes looks at me and I can read the concern on his face. He jumps up and is gone in a flash. "Stitch, you are going to be fine. Did you take anything? Did anyone get Jones yet? Come on, Stitch. Stay with me. We got this." He is speaking and I can hear as if it is through mud. I try to focus on the words but they fall away. Taking my hand from him, I clumsily dig through my bag and find the med bottle. It shakes as I hand it over. The rattle of the mentally ill. He looks at it and sees there is no label. A beautiful angel that David has led over stoops near me. She has the most striking blue eyes. Her voice is soft and somehow makes it through my haze. "I am Medic Jones. You are Yvonne, yes? You are going to be fine." Her hands are warm as she grabs my wrist, looking at her watch. I have no idea what she is doing. I like what I can see of her face. It's nice. She begins to type into her MedTab. Sarah is rattling off words that make no sense to me. The room still is spinning. Medic Jones holds my hand and begins to breathe with me. "Yvonne, I want you to breathe. Follow my breaths. In and out. In and out. Watch just me. Forget the room. In and out. Good. Now, I want you to place your head between your knees. You are hyperventilating. We are going to slow everything down. Good. Did you take the clonazepam I see in your record?" Ch3f hands her the bottle he is holding. She opens it and looks at the pills. I place my head down. My breath comes a little easier as the medication starts to work. "How many did you take, Yvonne?" I look at her. I try to say two. I just took two, but the words don't come out. I hold up my fingers instead. The music that had been blaring suddenly stops. I can't hear it anymore. A strong voice comes over the PA system. "Announcement. Announcement. There is an External Electronic Social Anxiety Service Device on the World Net. It is not a target. I repeat, it is not a target. It is unsecured and being attacked at this moment. If you have control of that device, release it immediately as the patient is in crisis." SAS immediately goes silent. A horde of people begin to walk over. I shrink into the wall. Medic Jones and Ch3f provide a barrier. Sarah and David start to push people back. I hear the familiar beeps of SAS rebooting. I pause and look about. The minutes tick by as the tableau in front of becomes clearer. I see the crowd of genuinely concerned geeks. Whispers float across the room. I feel myself start to still. No one is looking at me like I am a freak. Two men with ComTabs hook up to SAS and punch buttons. They are fixing their mistake. Apologies are given as I hear the boot sound from SAS. The men disengage from my device and fade into the background. "EESASD version 12.5 back online. Applying security patch 4.1 with custom code from KillzNet. I will be unavailable for the next six minutes forty-two seconds. Please wait." SAS's synth is music to my ears. It's back. It's really back. Taking a shaking look at my phone I realize it is rebooting as well. I gaze around and see so many faces. Medic Jones is using her MedTab to hook up to SAS and return all of my med data. Ch3f is now smiling. He looks at me as a friend, not a freak. The minutes tick by and concern is on the crowd's faces. Not the hatred and fear I thought would come. People begin to speak of how to help. More Shepherds come to control the people milling around. I see someone talk to Medic Jones and hand her a micro SiD. I think I hear the words "encryption key". The room begins to brighten and the sounds come to the fore. My breathing steadies as Ch3f holds my hand. I am going to be ok. The people here helped me. More data is transferred to SAS from the SiD while I sit in amazement at how the community came together to assist the crazy girl. "Yonnie, I am back online with new security protocols installed. I have now encrypted and DNA locked your device. The restore from Medic Jones' MedTab is online. I have downloaded the newest research from Cambridge on your condition using the newly-provided academic credentials. You are going to be fine. Medic Jones has annotated the event and it is now being uploaded to Dr. Mason. Now shall we stand up and show them what we are made of, sweetheart?" Sweetheart? What? It takes me a moment to process that whomever patched SAS added to its personality files. SAS is now functioning even better than when I came in. Medic Jones takes my hand and helps me stand. The room is finally still. I can feel the breath coming easier. Ch3f is there as well and gives me a hug. He whispers in my ear that I did great. My vitals are returning to normal when SAS beeps. I can feel myself blush at the affection from Ch3f. He is very handsome. "Detecting elevated hormone levels. Yonnie, are you crushing on Ch3f? Contact information indicates he is married and off limits, girlfriend." I laugh. Whoever added to the personality profile deserves a big hug from me. "No, SAS. I am now fine. Shall we see what this con is all about?" I laugh in relief and turn to Sarah and David. I give each one a big hug. Gods, my friends are awesome. Medic Jones smiles at me as she packs up. She really was a lifesaver. Her smile and kindness will stay with me forever. I turn to Ch3f and give him a peck on the cheek. He smiles wide, placing a hand on his face, as if to hold my appreciation close to him. The room commands his attention and he walks away. "Thank y’all for your help. All y’all are amazing!" I shout to the room hoping everyone will hear me over the loud music that has returned. I smile wide because everyone came together to help a newbie like me. More whispers of apology float in the air, and I forgive them. It isn't their fault I came here with an insecure device. Slowly, I am returning to my normal. My "normal" is perfectly acceptable here. That feels nice. The scene before me fades to black and I begin to wake up. The chair I am on is hard and I am a little sore. The sims are always like this. Sleeping on a cement brick while your mind plays. The white room has none of the color and life that the DefCon simulation had. A plain doctor's theatre with banks of sim computers lining one wall comes into focus. A balding man in a white lab coat types lazily on a MedTab. He doesn't look at me as I come back to myself. His glasses slide off his nose as they always do. He huffs loudly as I sit up, and I pull my vintage hood sweater nearer me. With a pause, he smiles. It isn't the warm smile of Ch3f, but a smile nonetheless. The MedTab makes its way to the counter behind him, the light from the high windows bouncing around the room as it always does during our sessions. The dancing light chases away the dark thoughts this room tends to bring. Dr. Mason looks to me and begins a familiar speech. "See, Ms. Burghart, you will be fine should the EESASD go off line. Your fears are unfounded. You did very well in this simulation. We will fix the issues you have uncovered. I will write you a new prescription with correct dosage and update the authorization. The bottle will be current and you will have no issues of legality. We will DNA encrypt your device. Lastly, I will send with you to the convention a document that describes all the offline techniques to stop a panic attack. They may be old, but they still work. As for your desire for a personality upgrade to the EESASD, those may be purchased on the World Net for a modest number of credits." He scribbles all the notes from our session with the E-Pen on his MedTab. I look at Dr. Mason with a roll of my eyes. Two months of therapy in this dull, boring theatre and I am feeling more and more ready to go to DefCon. Each time we run the sim, it turns out a little different - a little better. I come up with new problems and each time I survive. Dr. Mason believes that if I can do the convention, I may be able to live on my own and away from the hospital. Sarah is picking me up from St. Marks Hospital on Friday with her new boyfriend, David. As my older sister it's her duty to look after me while I chase after this new freedom I desire. Or at least that is what Mom tells her. We will travel by car - not plane - to Las Vegas where we will spend five glorious days being geeks. Everyone else is more of a geek than I but I love to tag along. I will be fine with my new secured SAS and it will be ok. I will be normal for five wonder-filled days. "Now, Ms. Burghart, I would like to schedule an additional session to explore this attachment you have developed over eight of our ten simulations. Who is this ‘Ch3f?’ And why does he look so similar to the male nurse in your ward?"