The Hack

Phil Nesbitt stared at the screen, bleary-eyed. His supplier had given him the new phone for a steep price, saying that it was the only one on the planet, years ahead of its time. No brand name could be found on its casing, nor in its operating system. Only the letters DCXVI, emblazoned in gold on its back, gave it any distinct break from the solid black sleek design.

"Shit, man," Phil's guy had said, "ain't nobody got one of these. I don't even know who made it, but the thing is amazing."

"Where'd you find it?"

"In a crate that fell off the back of a truck," he said, "Swear to God."

Phil had rolled his eyes and paid the man. The phone had come at a steep price, but he had a feeling that whatever made this thing tick would be worth it. If it was an early release of some hot, new thing, maybe he could pull something out of the code that he could sell, something that would set up him long-term.

It had worked before. Not to the extent Phil was hoping it would this time. But in the past his purchases had paid off. Usually his supplier would give him old hard drives, used laptops, stuff he could break into and take valuable data. It was hard work to find a buyer for what he found, but not hard to find the actual data. That part came naturally to Phil. And the payoff was much better than working a nine-to-five. Unlike his friends from school, Phil had been able to pay down his student loans in less than a year!

Opening the casing and getting at its brains hadn't been difficult, but getting it to give up its secrets had. The interface worked, as far as he could tell, and the thing had power, so what was the problem? No matter what he did, his monitor stayed blank. It was as if the phone was being stubborn, like it didn't want to talk.

"Come on," he sighed, leaning back in his padded chair. Phil had been at it for hours, and was about to give up. Maybe this time his investment had been a dud. Perhaps it was time that he pack up and move on to his next bright idea, "give me something. Please."

There was a spark, then the lights dimmed for a moment. Phil sat up and looked at the phone. A small puff of smoke was rising above the device, disappearing quickly into the air. While he worried that he might have fried it, his eyes quickly noticed that his monitor was no longer blank. On it, in bold text, was a question.

IDENTIFY TARGET? Y/N

"What the..." Phil said, unsure as to what had happened. Nothing about what he had attempted should have brought this user interface out, but somehow his computer was running software from the phone rather than giving him a glimpse at the backend code. Hesitantly, he reached out to his keyboard and pressed the Y key, then hit enter, just to see what it would do.

That's when things got interesting.