The street finds its own use for the Internet of Things
NaNoWriMo RevengeOfTheMutantAlgorithms WritingMonth · 2,100 words
Being the further and various adventures of The Guerrilla Infrastructure Team - a renegade bunch of digital anarchists and freedom fighters who mostly just wish things were slightly better and who would stop at nothing to find convoluted technical solutions to complex social problems. Their manifesto (such as it was) had paragraphs about the correct way to drink Club Maté nestled next to opinionated screeds about the proper use of tabs in various programming languages. They weren't hired guns, nor were they available to perform at weddings, but they had the habit of showing up exactly where their curious mixture of skills would be useful. Or, at the very least, entertainingly annoying.
For the last 200 or so years, the official transcripts of the proceedings of Parliament were recorded in Hansard. The documents were a treasure-trove for infogeeks. Every word ever spoken, in either chamber, on a panoply of subjects, was there for the harvesting. Some turned it into art - carving abhorrent speeches by long-dead bigots into stone and then dumping them symbolically in the sea. Others looked for unintentional haikus among the daily exchange of barbs. One hanger-on decided to train an AI to speak like an old-fashioned politician and then got members of the public to ask it about new-fangled laws. Disraeli had strong opinions on the proposed Digital Surveillance laws!
But the GITs had higher plans. Not content to merely report on the contents of the text, they wanted to deeply understand what was going on in the Mother of Parliaments. The plan was simple - they wanted to psychologically analyse every speech, every trade of insults, every off-the cuff remark in the historical records. They built up a comprehensive psychological profile on every MP and Lord that had ever set foot in the building. The GITs weren't looking for anything in particular, they just knew that applying technology to weird niches often provided interesting results. They "borrowed" some time on a university supercomputer cluster and started mining the brains of politicians for entertaining nuggets. What they found next will shock you!
Politicians are a rowdy bunch, that much is known. But what wasn't so well understood is the predictable and seasonal variations in their behaviour. Plotting the psychological state of every member over the years revealed huge changes in attitude at specific points in the year. As the nights drew closer, there was a deterioration in behaviour. It was blindingly obvious that the majority of politicians suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder. The lack of light was detrimental to the mental health of everyone in that accursed building. Their brains were simply too addled to act in the best interest of the country.
Parliament's SCADA wasn't exactly open to the public. But if you refuse to update to the latest security patches, and use a default password, you're basically asking for people to come in and play, aren't you? Each lightbulb in the building - and there were a metric fuckton of them - was directly controllable. A determined attacker (not that the GITs thought of themselves as attackers; they were merely jesters) could control the lighting across the Parliamentary estate. The GITs could have switched off all the lights and then executed a daring raid on the building - but that felt like rather too much physical effort for too little reward. Instead, they gently changed the colour temperature and intensity of the bulbs. They were programmed to beam better quality light into the eyes of Parliamentarians as winter approached. They were curing SAD! OK, it was basically medicating people without their consent, which sounded bad, but they considered it morally justifiable.
On the way out, they updated the infrastructure and patched all the vulnerable components. A few dozen older systems were upgraded and secured, all at no cost to the taxpayer! Unbeknownst to them, that rather put a crimp in the plans of a State-Sponsored Attacker who had grand plans to flicker the lights at precise frequencies in order to trigger an epileptic fit in a prominent MP. A second attacker was also kicked out by the rogue security upgrades, which meant they were no longer able to observe the Prime Minister's movements by tracking the water use of his private toilet.
The GITs waited for winter. They carefully tracked the behaviour of the people's representatives and compared it to the baseline. There was a small but statistically significant improvement in behaviour! Oh, sure, there were a million other variables at play - but the effect was noticeable. Even the press remarked on the increase in civility over the last few months. Did peace and harmony flow as a result of the hack? No - but the mood of the chambers was improved and, with luck, that would improve the quality of debate. Sometimes all you need to do is push the needle in a positive direction.
And, if that didn't work, the GITs retained access to the HVAC system and could make truculent lawmakers shiver or sweat on command!
Every open WiFi network had become a node in a propaganda war that no one wanted.
Back when WiFi was shiny and new, an SSID wouldusually be set to something useful like "Office_W1" or informative like "Free-Cafe-Net" or vaguely funny like "Pretty_fly_for_a_wifi". Lately, as society continued its downward spiral, they had become something far more sinister. Hideous racist messages and ranting political slogans were now being broadcast from cheap MiFis hidden in train carriages. Anyone who wanted to get a little bit of email done on their journey, would suddenly be bombarded with the most vile abuse which could be fit into 32 characters.
The GITs were not amused. Half of them were catgirls within a multiracial polycule, and the other burned with righteous fury whenever their friends were attacked. This sort of aggressive enemy action demanded nothing short of a full scale retaliation - electronic warfare, covert action, and dank memes. The geeks were out for bloody revenge. There was just one slight problem; the attackers seemed to be fully distributed. Decentralised nodes of stochastic terror, with no obvious command structure, engaged in random acts of psychological violence. This epic challenge was going to require some strategic thought.
History is an excellent guide to the future. When these racist bullies first started out, they didn't have the sophistication to conduct electronic harassment or digital defacement. The only time they stopped being keyboard warriors was when they stepped away from the screens long enough to put up stickers. Instant graffiti they called it. Get a bunch of Avery labels and a cheap laser printer, and you could mass produce filth. Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, whatever you wanted. An ugly little slogan scorched onto a white (naturally) sticker. They could be printed off by the hundreds and plastered all over a city in the space of an afternoon.
The thing about most bigots is - they're thick. That's not very nice, but it has the advantage of being accurate. They're just not that good at coming up with original ideas or pithy slogans. Most drones require heavy direction and that's what ended the sticker gangs. The one person bright enough to design the stickers wasn't bright enough to think about operational security. The OpSec of his followers was similarly cruddy. They'd get picked up on CCTV, traced back home, and brought in for questioning. That was enough for the police to trace back the originators of the propaganda. A few months later, the perpetrators were picking litter for community retribution, and the guy responsible was looking at a hefty gaol sentence for incitement.
So the GITs copied that playbook. The first step was getting their hands on the WiFi units which were blasting out the digital noise. This turned out to be tricky. As the sticker wars were winding down, some knobhead decided to slip a razor-blade behind a few of the slapped-on slogans. A do-gooder who tried to remove the sticker found themselves with unexpectedly perforated fingers and a nasty case of tetanus. The WiFi units were similarly rigged. The first one they found was stuck underneath seat 18 in the First Class carriage of an Intercity to Glasgow. A GIT on the train had spent an hour trying to triangulate the signal before she found it. She lay on the floor, stuck her hand under the seat, and felt around for the warm plastic box of hatred. There were no razor blades attached, no glass shards, or noxious substances. It was stuck lightly to the bottom of the seat and she pulled it away.
The battery was wired to short circuit! Magic smoke filled the carriage as the battery cells puffed up, sparks shot in every direction, just as the GIT flew through the door a jet of fire burst out of the Lithium-Ion package. Carnage, fire, poisonous air, a pissed off train company and a nervous wreck of a saboteur. In a hot moment, this had morphed from a war of words into AFK action. If the GITs were angry before, now they were fueled by rage. What kind of sick freak would want to hurt a train?! Trains are friends! Attacking a train was like punching a pony - wanton violence against an innocent creature.
A flash went around their social perimeter. Be advised: spicy pillows!
The next MiFi was treated with a little more reverence. It wasn't quite robot-bomb-disposal, but the GITs had access to enough LEGO to construct something remarkably similar! After the fourth unit was furtively removed from the toilets of a flat-roofed pub, an obvious pattern began to emerge. Every unit was identical. Once the JTAGs were soldered on and debugging instructions were transmitted, it revealed that the serial numbers were all within a tight range. These devices had obviously been purchased in bulk and then distributed to the miscreants who were sticking them up. The units looked fairly anonymous, but it didn't take much reverse image searching to discover which handful of online merchants were shipping them. The concept of GDPR is not universally understood by foreign businessmen operating out of a kiosk in Shenzhen, so it didn't take much social engineering to find the name of the person who had ordered the custom units.
A name and email address.
Decent OpSec requires a covert operative to use multiple aliases and situation specific email addresses. Anyone with even a passing familiarity with keeping yourself safe online would know to divorce your real name from your nom de guerre. It would be the height of foolishness to use your main email address for anything malicious. Chunky.Lover.1169 @ aol.uk was, I think we can all agree, a fool. But only the bastard son of the Crown Prince of Fools would use the same email address and the same bloody password for everything! Chunky's password had leaked half a dozen times as various online platforms "took his privacy very seriously". It was probably an offence for someone to try the email address and password on a number of Dark Web sites. But you can't prove the GITs did that. All you can say for certain is they "accidentally" stumbled onto his discreet Telegram channel and booted him out. The only online account of his which was left with its original password was his OnlyFans subscriptions. Hey, the workers there still needed to make money, right?
The WiFi units they'd recovered had been easy enough to crack open. The firmware was neither protected nor particularly complicated. They altered a few strings here, inserted a command-and-control backdoor there, and published an innocent looking changelog to deter anyone prying too far. The new binary was swiftly distributed to his willing acolytes. Oh, and would you mind clicking here so we can grab your IP address, geolocation, photo, and thumbprint? Did we accidentally pass them onto the police? Sowwy! KTHXBAI!
As the firmware filtered its way through the network of surreptitiously placed hotspots, the GITs built up a detailed map of where each of the little bastards was.
It was time to go war driving!
Thanks for reading
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