- Upstairs! - What's going on?
Who are you?
Dade! Dade!
Knock it down.
The defendant, Dade Murphy,
who calls himself 'Zero Cool',
has repeatedly committed criminal acts of a malicious nature.
This defendant possesses a superior intelligence,
which he uses to a destructive and antisocial end.
His computer virus crashed 1507 systems, including Wall Street trading systems,
single-handedly causing a seven-point drop in the New York stock market.
Dade Murphy, I hereby fine your family $45,000.
I sentence you to probation. You are forbidden to use a computer
or a touchtone telephone until the day of your 18th birthday.
- Dade? - Yeah, Mom?
What are you doing?
Taking over a TV network.
Finish up, honey. Go to sleep. And happy birthday.
Security, Norm...
Norman speaking.
Norman. This is Mr. Eddie Vedder from Accounting.
I had a power surge here at home that wiped out a file I was working on.
I'm in big trouble. You know anything about computers?
Gee...
My BLT drive on my computer just went AWOL,
and I have this big project due tomorrow for Mr. Kawasaki.
If I screw up, he'll make me commit hari-kari.
You know these Japanese management techniques.
Could you read me the number on the modem?
It's a little boxy thing with switches on it.
It lets my computer talk to the one there.
212...
5554240.
So-called American Indians, Latinos, and blacks are genetically mediocre.
Yak, yak, yak.
Get a job.
You are about to experience the awe and mystery
which reaches from the inner mind
to... The Outer Limits.
Zero...
No, wait.
Unbelievable.
A hacker.
Yeah, okay, Acid Burn. That's enough.
Shit on me!
Good morning. Did you unpack your stuff yet?
Up all night again?
Can this wait until both of my eyes are open?
Can I cut the electricity to his room so he'll get some sleep?
He's been playing with his computer all night for a week.
Yes, he could be playing with himself.
Yes, I'll ask. Dade,
you like girls, don't you?
Yeah. I just haven't found one as charming as you.
You haven't done anything stupid, right?
Right, Dade?
Right, Mom.
And I'm still a virgin.
You hooked it up to the phone, didn't you?
Dade, turn the shower off!
You screw up again and you won't get into college.
I'm sorry we had to move in your senior year.
I didn't want to sell the house but I had to take this job. You know that.
You'll love New York. It's the city that never sleeps.
I miss you, too, baby. Claro que s'.
Excuse me.
Chill, man. I'm talking to Venezuela.
I'm sorry. Where's the principal's office?
I can't help you, kid.
Do you have your transfer forms?
It's a straightforward question.
Do you speak English?
Sorry, you wanted...
Transfer forms.
Are you coming?
The gym is through there and the cafeteria is through there.
Great. Cool.
What's your name?
Kate. Kate Libby.
Here's your class.
My class. I'm not in your class?
No, you're not in my class.
Give me time.
- You new? - Yeah.
Tell him about the pool, Kate.
Pool?
There's an Olympic-size swimming pool on the roof.
Take the stairs over there.
Yeah. Sure.
Thanks.
Hey! Hold the door!
No pool.
Oh, my God. He found the pool.
I'm Mr. Simpson.
I'm subbing for Ms Bayless, who was arrested at the anti-fur rally.
I know some of you kids got computers at home, but these are school property.
Chapter One. 'Designing Graphical Interface'.
What's your interest in Kate Libby?
Academic, purely sexual?
Homicidal.
What's up, man? I'm the Phreak.
The Fantom Phreak? The King of Nynex?
I know you play the game.
Phreak, Phreak, Phreak. Dude, dude, dude.
Joey! One more 'dude' and I'll slap the shit out of you.
You gotta stop letting your mama dress you, man. You're hopeless!
- Check it. - I need a handle.
I don't have an identity until I have a handle.
You're right about that. Check it. Friday.
Wait. How about The Master of Disaster?
You're utterly hopeless, man.
Ultra Laser... Doctor Doom!
Tell me what you need. Records? Tapes? Any kind of format or disk.
Check this out, each of you. Compilation tapes of my own making.
I call this 'The Greatest Zukes Album',
featuring Hendrix, Joplin, Mama Cass, Belushi,
all great artists who asphyxiated on their own vomit!
You can't get this in stores!
Please deposit $5 for the first minute.
Thank you.
No, thank you.
That's a nice score for a girl.
Think you can do better?
I'll give it a shot.
Is this kid bothering you, Kate?
Could I get some room here?
Why don't you come up here?
He's good!
Well, it looks like I'm on top.
Congratulations. No-one's ever beat her before.
You just made an enemy for life.
Boy meets world. Let's go.
- Who's that? - Curtis.
What's he do?
You're looking at it. He looks slick all day.
Joey!
What's up?
Oh, my God! You...?
Way cool!
You saw that?
What the hell is going on?
Pool on the roof must be leaking.
Oh, man. This is going to be good.
'God gave men brains larger than dogs
so they wouldn't hump women's legs at cocktail parties'.
Ruth Libby.
I'm not sure your mother qualifies as a significant 20th century author.
Her last book sold 2 million copies.
'Angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
'to the starry dynamo in the machinery of the night'.
Ginsberg.
Nice. Very nice.
He's not in this class.
I said give me time.
He's not enrolled in this class.
Well, he's on my list.
'Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most'.
Ozzy Osbourne.
You. What is your name?
Emmanuel Goldstein, sir.
You, however, are not on my list.
This isn't wood shop class?
Class crashing. Come on.
Now get out.
Thank you, sir.
How was school?
- What did we learn in school today? - Revenge.
Ahh. Did we meet someone special?
No. No-one special.
I have to get back to work. Would you please try to fill these out?
Don't worry,
it's only the rest of your life.
Anything else? Want me to mow the lawn?
Oops, I forgot. New York, no grass.
And unpack.
You can sit at home and do absolutely nothing
and your name goes through 17 computers a day.
'1984'? Yeah, right. That's a typo.
Orwell's here and living large. We have no names, man. No names!
Can I score a fry?
Meet Cereal Killer.
As in Fruit Loops.
But he does know things.
Anyway, guys, listen.
I'm in this computer, right? I'm looking around...
You got those Crayola books?
Yeah, technicolour rainbow.
Green one.
What is that? Let me see?
- What are these? - International UNIX environments.
Luscious orange.
Computer security criteria... DOD standards.
The pink-shirt book... guide to IBM PCs.
So-called due to the nasty pink shirt the guy wears on the cover.
Devil book, the UNIX bible.
- What's that? - Dragon book, compiler design.
- What's that? - The Red book.
NSA-trusted networks.
Otherwise known as 'The Ugly Red Book That Won't Fit On A Shelf'.
Anyway, guys. Come on. I'm in this computer, right.
I'm looking around, throwing commands. I don't know what it does or anything.
It's choice.
It's beautiful. Four hours just messing around in there.
Finally, I figure out...
that it's a bank.
Okay, wait. It's a bank. So, this morning, I check the paper,
some cash machine in, like, Bumsville, Idaho, spits out $700 into the street.
- That's kinda cool. - That was me.
- I did that. - You did this from your house?
Are you stoned or stupid?
You don't hack a bank from your house! You get nailed by the FBI.
Are your brains in your ass?
Don't you know anything?
It's universally stupid, man.
I don't know things because you guys won't tell me anything. Right?
What are the three most used passwords?
'Love', 'Secret' and 'Sex'.
But not in that order, necessarily. Right?
Don't forget 'God'. System operators love to use 'God'. Male ego.
To be elite, you have to do a righteous hack, not this accidental shit.
Which means you score one of those Gibsons, man.
Those supercomputers they use to do physics and look for oil.
No way, man. Security is too tight.
Maybe. But if I wanted to hack some heavy metal,
I'd work my way in through some back door.
Oh, man. Wouldn't you just love to get one of those Gibsons?
Who ate all of my fries?
- Joey! - No, I didn't touch your fries.
- Cereal, man. You owe me a pack. - It was him.
- Lay off that shit, man. - I'm gonna hit you!
Yes! Home run, home run. Okay, okay.
You and me, Lucy.
We're gonna show them, baby.
Ow!
Mr. Belford?
My name is The Plague.
Mr. The Plague, something weird is happening on the net.
As in what, you hapless techno-weenie?
One of the Gibsons is working really hard.
We got one person on-line but with the workload of 10 users.
I think we got a hacker.
Okay, we need proof that we were here.
Yeah. Garbage. Give me Garbage.
Shit.
Never fear,
I is here.
- I located the activity to terminal 23. - Let's echo 23, see what's up.
God wouldn't be up this late.
Shit!
Get me the switching control centre. I need to trace this call.
Hold on, Mom. Hold on one second.
- Open the door, Joseph. - Yeah, okay.
There you go.
Bed. Sleep.
Now!
Sweet dreams, Joseph.
He's gone.
Did you get a trace?
Yeah, we got him.
Good.
Nice place, huh?
You heard of a hacker called Acid Burn?
- You know who he is? - No. Don't know who he is.
Do you?
Nikon! Lord Nikon, this is...
Crash Override.
Never heard of you. You done anything?
No.
Come on!
What? Your Mom buy you a 'puter for Christmas?
- Does he know anything? - Sure. He's elite.
Come in.
- Nikon, can I crash at your place tonight? - Again?
Yeah, sure.
Hackers penetrate and ravage
public and private computer systems, infecting them with viruses...
Who are these guys?
Richard Gill. Hacker enemy number one. Real boner.
Showtime. Showtime!
- What's going on? - Four,
three, two, one...
Welcome to our show!
Hack the Planet!
For late night hacks, Jolt Cola, soft drink of the elite hacker.
- Who are these guys? - That's Razor and Blade.
Razor and Blade?
That's right. This is a pay-phone.
Don't ask.
As you can see, this is just a simple micro-cassette recorder.
Hook it up to the phone, and drop in five bucks in quarters.
Record the tone the coins make, hang up, get your money back.
Never again pay for a service that would be cheap,
if it weren't run by profiteering gluttons.
Remember, hacking is more than just a crime. It's a survival trait.
I'm a real wild child, I'm a wild one
Thank you! Thank you very much!
Joey! Joey! Thank you!
Freeze!
- What? - Get out of there!
Out!
- Joey! - Get in there!
Sit down!
Lucy!
Where are you taking her?
Joey!
- How's it going, Ray? - Looks good, sir.
We got an uncorrupted hard drive.
In English, please.
I didn't protect the President for ten years
to finish my career feeling like an idiot.
I'm sorry, sir. He didn't have time to erase his computer files.
Good. Let's finish up here. Take him in for interrogation.
Agent Gill, can you spare a moment?
Why, of course, Jennifer.
- Joey! - How dangerous are hackers?
Hackers penetrate and ravage public and private computer systems,
infecting them with viruses and stealing sensitive materials.
These people are terrorists.
Morning, gentlemen.
Please, be seated.
I see we're still dressing in the dark, Eugene.
Once again, don't call me Eugene.
Our recent intruder
penetrated using a superuser account, giving him access to our whole system.
Precisely what you're paid to prevent.
Someone didn't bother reading my memo on commonly used passwords.
As I meticulously pointed out, the foremost used passwords are...
'Love', 'Sex', 'Secret' and 'God'.
So would Your Holiness care to change her password?
A hacker planted the virus.
Virus?
Yesterday, the ballast program for a supertanker training model
mistakenly thought the vessel was empty and flooded its tanks.
Excuse me?
The little boat flipped over.
A virus planted within the Gibson system claimed responsibility.
It left a note?
Unless $5 million is transferred to the following account in 7 days,
I will capsize five tankers in the Ellingson fleet.
- Is that...? - That is the virus.
Leonardo da Vinci.
We have 26 ships at sea and don't know which ones are infected.
Well, put the ship's ballast under manual control.
There's no such thing anymore.
These ships are totally computerised.
They rely on satellite navigation
which links them to our network, and the virus, wherever they are.
What are we supposed to do?
Luckily, you have a gifted and talented security officer.
I traced the hacker's call. The Secret Service picked him up.
I'll search his files for the original virus code and eliminate it.
We expect you to get on this right away.
- How soon? - As fast as I can.
This is common in corporations as large as ours. Don't worry about it.
The Secret Service is helping us out, 100 percent.
We'll be in touch.
What the hell was that all about?
I had to move fast. The hacker copied my garbage file.
What?
I created da Vinci so we could get the Secret Service
to arrest the hacker and seize the equipment, which we can't do alone.
- I don't want to go to jail for this. - Relax. Think about the $25 million.
But you created a virus that's going to cause a worldwide ecological disaster.
Just to arrest some hacker kid?
Basically, yes.
Jesus! You're sick, Eugene.
I'll take care of this.
I can cancel it any time. I don't need the code.
What better way to confiscate the disk
and find out how much of the garbage file was copied.
Get it!
Why did I ever trust you?
Get the file, otherwise you'll lose all your toys.
Did you find the virus program on the disks we confiscated?
No. He's either very smart or very stupid.
Then he stashed it somewhere, or he has an accomplice.
We'll release him. Keep tight surveillance and see if he leads us to your disk.
Unit 3, outside suspect Joey Pardella's apartment.
Suspect still grounded... by his mother.
Listen to this bullshit.
'This is our world now. The world of the electron and the switch,
'the beauty of the baud.
'We exist without nationality, skin colour or religious bias.
'You wage wars, murder, cheat, lie to us,
'and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.
'Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity.
'I am a hacker and this is my manifesto.'
Right? Manifesto?
'You may stop me,
'but you can't stop us all.'
That's cool.
- Cool? - Yeah, cool.
You think it's cool?
- It's cool. - It's not cool. It's commie bullshit.
Can I crash at your place tonight?
What's with him?
His parents missed Woodstock and he's been making up for it since.
You hear about Joey's bust?
Probably had something to do with that bank in Idaho.
You think he could hack a Gibson?
- Did you talk to him? - No. His mom says he's grounded
for his next three lifetimes. And no 'consorting with computer friends'.
The Secret Service is out to get him.
Want to go to a big party tonight?
It's at Kate's.
I thought so.
A little pelvis.
What the hell are you doing?
Plague!
Gill.
I think we got something.
Yuk!... Hard copy!
Dade Murphy.
- Secret Service! - Don't move!
What are you...?
Shut up!
What are you doing? Get off me!
God!
Sit on the bed and keep your hands where we can see them.
The year was 1988.
A nasty virus crashed 1,500 systems in one day.
1,507.
It got you 7 years' probation.
No computer. No touchtone phones.
Must have been hell, huh, Zero Cool?
A virus has been planted in the Ellingson Mineral computer system.
You were our prime suspect.
Till we trashed your stuff and found no trace of it.
We believe that Joey Pardella is involved in this Ellingson virus.
He or his accomplice has a disk that Mr. Belford needs to disable that virus.
We want you to help us find it.
Gill.
Loser.
I can't believe you were only 11 when you wrote this.
It's quite an impressive virus.
Dade.
I know how you might feel about narking on your friends, but... we're hackers.
For us, there's no such thing as family and friends.
We're each our own country, with temporary allies and enemies.
Let's make a treaty.
I'm sorry. Who are you?
I'm the one who understands you.
Now, can we be allies?
Nah. I don't play well with others.
Shit! Come on!
Watch which friends you do play with.
With your record, you could land in jail or get expelled. No college. No future.
Exiled from everyone and everything you love.
I'll be in touch.
He's fine. Oh, and Dade,
- try to stay out of trouble, okay? - Blow me.
Thank you.
Her Mom makes big bucks writing books for women.
Stuff like 'Women Who Love Men Who Are Emotional Amoebae'.
That explains a lot.
Big man, stepping in. Coming through.
Big man, big boots. You look good, girl.
- Yo, what's up, Nikon? - In the house, man. Thanks.
Dade, man. You made it.
Houston, we have lift-off.
Three o'clock. Check it. Don't look right away!
Look at her, man.
Lisa Blair. 26 East 7th Street, apartment 16.
5554817.
Boom!
- How'd you know that? - I got a photographic memory.
It's a curse.
Lisa!
Oh! Look at that pooper, man. Spandex, it's a privilege, not a right.
Hi, my name's Vicki and I'm an addict.
Hi. My name's Hank and I'm an addict.
My name's Joey, but...
I'm not an addict.
No, really. Listen.
I got in trouble with my computer.
My lawyer told the judge I'm an addict, but I'm not addicted to my computer.
No, really.
I'm not an addict.
I'm not.
Can I get some more coffee?
Yo! Check this out. This is insanely great.
It's got a 28.8 bps modem.
- Yeah? Display? - Active matrix.
A million psychedelic colours.
This baby is sweet.
- I want it. - I want it to have my children.
- Bet it looks crispy in the dark. - Hit the light.
Shit!
Come on. Get out.
- Was that her top? - One-handed.
Difficulty rating?
Seven.
Wow!... Burn's wetware matches her software.
Burn?
What are you doing here?
We're sorry! Just looking at your fly laptop.
It's hype, you know.
You're in the butter zone now, baby.
Yeah, it is.
I want to triple the RAM.
Leopard boy and the deceptor cons.
Kate! You're not going into that computer shit now, right?
Later, babe.
- Yeah, right. - The sensitive type.
What's he doing here?
He's my guest, Burn.
You're Acid Burn?!
You booted me out of OTV.
- What? - I'm Crash Override.
You're the moron who's been invading my turf?
Whoa, whoa! Crash...
and Burn!
Murphy kid turn you down?
I disguised myself as an Alabama State Trooper and penetrated the FBI NCIC.
Pervert.
What are you talking about?
The FBI computer holds files on 20 million Americans.
I just hacked into it.
Congratulations.
I have access to every piece of data stored on Dade Murphy's parents.
His parents separated five years ago, reconciled, then divorced last year.
Custody battle.
Boy chose to go with his mother.
So?
So, we get the mother, we get the boy.
What the hell are you doing?
It's cool, I'm just looking.
- It's too much machine for you. - Yeah?
I hope you don't screw like you type.
It has a killer refresh rate.
P6 chip. Triple the speed of the Pentium.
It's not just the chip. It has a PCI bus.
But... you knew that.
Indeed.
RISC architecture is going to change everything.
Yeah. RISC is good.
Sure this sweet machine's not going to waste?
Crash Override. What was it?
'Mess with the best, die like the rest'?
Yeah.
Are you challenging me?
Name your stakes.
If I win, you become my slave.
Your slave?
You wish.
You'll do shit work. Scan, crack copyrights, whatever I want.
Deal. And if I win?
Make it my first born.
- Make it our first date. - You won't win.
And you have to smile.
I don't do dates.
But I don't lose, either. So you're on.
Here's the deal, the chosen contest:
To hassle Secret Service Agent Richard Gill and get one back for Joey.
Our decisions are final by a vote of two to one. No appeals.
The duel will last until we declare a winner.
Use only the access codes and passwords in your collection.
No help from us.
Talkin' to me?
Any questions?
Yeah. Who's going to notify his next of kin?
He's in the personal ads.
'Disappointed white male, cross-dresser, looking for discreet friend
'to bring dreams to reality.
'Leather, lace and water sports. Transvestites welcome.'
I know where you can stick it.
I just want to lick your earlobes and your lips.
You want to lick something? Lick this!
That's why they call me Stallion.
That's disgusting!
My heart is steaming for you...
-..spank you with... - I'll spank your ass!
-..turn you over and... - Agghh!
Animal!
Hey!... Hey! Do you know who I am?
Do you know who I am?
This is Accounting, sir. You inquired about Agent Richard Gill?
Yes.
- Our records indicate he's deceased. - I'm what?