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.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlShe approached a windowless steel door guarded by a surveillance camera.There was a small plastic sign to one side that announced that the buildingwas the headquarters of a company called Personal Customer. Is this a British company? Michael asked. No.It s quite German. Mrs.Brewster pushed the door buzzer. Larsrecommended that we give it an English name.It makes the staff think thatthey re involved with something modern and international. The door clicked and they stepped into a brightly lit reception area.A youngwoman in her twenties with rings in her ears, lips, and nose looked up at themand smiled. Welcome to Personal Customer.May I help you? I m Mrs.Brewster and this is Mr.Corrigan.We re technical consultants hereto see the computer.I do believe Mr.Reichhardt knows we re coming today. Yes.Of course. The young woman handed Mrs.Brewster a sealed envelope. You go to the I know, dear.I ve been here before. They walked over to an elevator next to a conference room with glass walls.Agroup of company employees most of them in their thirties were sitting arounda large table eating lunch and talking.Mrs.Brewster ripped open the envelope, took out a plastic card, and waved itat the elevator s sensor.The door glided open, they stepped into theelevator, and she waved the card a second time. We re going down to thebasement.That s the only entrance to the tower. Is it okay to ask a question? Yes.We re out of the public area. What do the employees think they re doing? Oh, it s all perfectly legitimate.They re told that Personal Customer is acutting-edge marketing firm that is collecting demographic data.Of course,advertising togroups of people has become completely old-fashioned.In thefuture, all advertising will be directed toward each individual consumer.Whenyou see a billboard in the street, it will sense the RFID chip on your keychain and flash your name.The energetic young people you just saw are busyfinding every possible source of data about Berliners and feeding it into thecomputer. The elevator door opened and they stepped into a large basement withoutinterior walls.Michael thought that the massive room looked like a factorywithout workers.It was filled with machinery and communication equipment. That s the backup power generator, Mrs.Brewster said, pointing to the left. That s the air conditioner and filtration system because, apparently, ourcomputer doesn t favor polluted air. A white pathway had been painted on the floor, and they followed it to theother end of the room.Although the machinery was impressive, Michael wasstill curious about the people he had seen in the conference room. So theemployees don t know that they re helping establish the Shadow Program? Of course not.When the time comes, Lars will tell them that their marketingdata is going to help defeat terrorism.We ll pass out bonuses and promotions.Page 68 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlI m sure they ll be quite pleased. The white pathway ended at a second reception desk this one manned by a burlysecurity guard wearing a coat and tie.The guard had been watching theirprogress on a small monitor.He looked up when they approached the desk. Good afternoon, Mrs.Brewster.They are expecting you. A door without knobs and handles was directly behind the reception desk, butthe guard didn t buzz it open.Instead Mrs.Brewster approached a small steelbox with an opening at one end.It was mounted on a ledge a few feet from thedoor. What s that? Michael asked. A palm vein scanner.You place your hand inside and a camera takes aphotograph with infrared light.The hemoglobin in your blood absorbs the lightso your veins appear black in a digital photograph.My pattern is matchedagainst a template stored in the computer. She inserted her hand in the slot, a light flashed, and the lock clicked.Mrs.Brewster pushed open the door and Michael followed her into the secondwing of the building.He was surprised to see that the interior had beencompletely gutted, exposing the rafters and the brick walls.Inside thiswindowless shell was a large glass tower held within a steel frame.The towercontained three stories of interconnected storage devices, mainframecomputers, and servers racked up on cabinets.The entire system was accessibleby a steel staircase and elevated catwalks.Two men sat at a control panel in one corner of the room.They were separatefrom the closed environment of the tower like acolytes not permitted to entera chapel [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlShe approached a windowless steel door guarded by a surveillance camera.There was a small plastic sign to one side that announced that the buildingwas the headquarters of a company called Personal Customer. Is this a British company? Michael asked. No.It s quite German. Mrs.Brewster pushed the door buzzer. Larsrecommended that we give it an English name.It makes the staff think thatthey re involved with something modern and international. The door clicked and they stepped into a brightly lit reception area.A youngwoman in her twenties with rings in her ears, lips, and nose looked up at themand smiled. Welcome to Personal Customer.May I help you? I m Mrs.Brewster and this is Mr.Corrigan.We re technical consultants hereto see the computer.I do believe Mr.Reichhardt knows we re coming today. Yes.Of course. The young woman handed Mrs.Brewster a sealed envelope. You go to the I know, dear.I ve been here before. They walked over to an elevator next to a conference room with glass walls.Agroup of company employees most of them in their thirties were sitting arounda large table eating lunch and talking.Mrs.Brewster ripped open the envelope, took out a plastic card, and waved itat the elevator s sensor.The door glided open, they stepped into theelevator, and she waved the card a second time. We re going down to thebasement.That s the only entrance to the tower. Is it okay to ask a question? Yes.We re out of the public area. What do the employees think they re doing? Oh, it s all perfectly legitimate.They re told that Personal Customer is acutting-edge marketing firm that is collecting demographic data.Of course,advertising togroups of people has become completely old-fashioned.In thefuture, all advertising will be directed toward each individual consumer.Whenyou see a billboard in the street, it will sense the RFID chip on your keychain and flash your name.The energetic young people you just saw are busyfinding every possible source of data about Berliners and feeding it into thecomputer. The elevator door opened and they stepped into a large basement withoutinterior walls.Michael thought that the massive room looked like a factorywithout workers.It was filled with machinery and communication equipment. That s the backup power generator, Mrs.Brewster said, pointing to the left. That s the air conditioner and filtration system because, apparently, ourcomputer doesn t favor polluted air. A white pathway had been painted on the floor, and they followed it to theother end of the room.Although the machinery was impressive, Michael wasstill curious about the people he had seen in the conference room. So theemployees don t know that they re helping establish the Shadow Program? Of course not.When the time comes, Lars will tell them that their marketingdata is going to help defeat terrorism.We ll pass out bonuses and promotions.Page 68 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlI m sure they ll be quite pleased. The white pathway ended at a second reception desk this one manned by a burlysecurity guard wearing a coat and tie.The guard had been watching theirprogress on a small monitor.He looked up when they approached the desk. Good afternoon, Mrs.Brewster.They are expecting you. A door without knobs and handles was directly behind the reception desk, butthe guard didn t buzz it open.Instead Mrs.Brewster approached a small steelbox with an opening at one end.It was mounted on a ledge a few feet from thedoor. What s that? Michael asked. A palm vein scanner.You place your hand inside and a camera takes aphotograph with infrared light.The hemoglobin in your blood absorbs the lightso your veins appear black in a digital photograph.My pattern is matchedagainst a template stored in the computer. She inserted her hand in the slot, a light flashed, and the lock clicked.Mrs.Brewster pushed open the door and Michael followed her into the secondwing of the building.He was surprised to see that the interior had beencompletely gutted, exposing the rafters and the brick walls.Inside thiswindowless shell was a large glass tower held within a steel frame.The towercontained three stories of interconnected storage devices, mainframecomputers, and servers racked up on cabinets.The entire system was accessibleby a steel staircase and elevated catwalks.Two men sat at a control panel in one corner of the room.They were separatefrom the closed environment of the tower like acolytes not permitted to entera chapel [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]