Nice to see my friends on the right finally waking up to what the National Security Agency has been up to, but it comes as no surprise to readers of my “Devlin” books, which chronicle the exploits of an extremely disaffected NSA/CSS (that’s the Central Security Service for those late to the party) operative who just so happens to be their most lethal weapon. Devlin is so secret his very existence is known only to three people in the need-to-know loop: the president, the secretary of defense and the NSA director himself, who just so happens to be his adoptive father. An excerpt from the second book in the series, Early Warning (2010), whose original title was to have been Black Widow:
No Such Agency was founded by President Truman in 1952 to both collect and decode foreign signals (SIGINT) and to protect America’s codes from hostile code breakers. The Second World War had made both encryption and cryptanalysis boom industries, and a wide variety of codes had been employed, everything from the Germans’ “Enigma” machine — named after the series of musical variation by the British composer, Sir Edward Elgar, to the Navajo “code talkers” who had worked for the Marine Corps in the Pacific theater.
Still, in the end, code-breaking was all about patterns, even if those patterns were sometimes so deeply hidden that they resembled wheels within wheels, whose sprockets had to be carefully aligned for the message to be read and understood. Today, the volume and the magnitude of the threat was infinitely greater than it had been 75 years ago — one missed pattern and the next thing you knew there was a smoking, radioactive crater where midtown Manhattan or the Washington Monument had once stood. Which is where the Black Widow came in.
The Black Widow was the in-house nickname of the NSA’s Cray supercomputer at Fort Meade. Forget privacy — no matter what the sideshow arguments in Congress were about the FISA laws or civil liberties, the Black Widow continued to go remorselessly about her job, which was to listen in on, and read, all telephonic and written electronic communication, in any language, anywhere in the world. It was the old Clinton-era “Echelon” project writ large, able to performs trillions of calculations per second as it sifted and sorted in its never-ending quest for key words, code words, patterns. The ACLU had screamed, but presidents from both parties had surreptitiously embraced it. The Black Widow was here to stay, little Miss Early Warning, if only she could be heeded and translated in time.
Wiretapping had come a long way. In the popular imagination — and in the minds of the media, which to judge from the op-ed pages of the New York Times, now viewed everything through the lenses of bad movies and show tunes — “eavesdropping” still conjured up images of fake telephone repairmen in jump suits, shimmying up phone poles or cracking open service boxes in the sub-sub-basement and applying alligator clips to the switching machinery. Congress, only slightly less obtuse than the media, played along, and continued to debate and pass laws having to do with “warrantless wiretapping;” there was even a court, a vestige from decades earlier, that solemnly heard evidence in camera and then gravely debated whether to issue warrants.
None of that mattered any more. It was all for show. the Black Widow not only heard all and read all, she could sense all: the technology had advanced to such an extent that the Widow and other Cray supercomputers like her — including the Cray XT4, known as the Jaguar, and the MPP (massively parallel processor) housed at the University of Tennessee — could read the keystrokes of a given computer through the electrical current serving the machine. And all linkable. If the Singularity wasn’t here yet, it would be soon.
There — feel better now?
The one and only.