The End of Lag

by Ian M. Crawford

"I know of menace," he began his speech, "It is called the Lag Demon!"

"Satan's spawn!" someone yelled from the crowd.

"For over two centuries now my friends, it has stalked us in the Internet. Stalking like Death would someone fated to die this day, this very hour, this very minute, right before us." A lady ran up to in front of the podium. She carried her young boy in her arms. He appeared to be dead, but he wasn't. He was however, one of the many severe victims of the Demon. He moved very slowly, almost to slow to detect. His eyes were unfocused, and likely never to focus again during his natural life.

"That spawn of the bowls of hell! He attacked my son without cause! Look at him! He is cursed 'till the day he dies!" She buried her tear stricken face into her boy's chest. A guard comforted the stricken woman. The knight looked down at the woman. He could feel the emotions rising in him. His own wife, also attacked by the Demon. My own wife!

"We have all agreed, that it has been a thorn…" his voice started to crack, but he forced the lump down. I must be strong! "The Lag Demon, has been a thorn… in our sides… for far… to… long!" A cheer rose from the crowd. He raised his hand to quiet them.

"My friends! Today is the day we fight back. We fight to regain the speed and power we deserve. Today, we prevent our young from being victims. Today, we fight back!" The cheer again rose. The knight reached down, and grabbed a small black box.

The Black Box… my own wife's design… He raised the box up high for all to see. "We shall not be victims!" His mind flashed through many images. His wife, happy at her console. Him and his wife playing a game over a network. Her face was so full of joy. His mind raced to when she has been stricken. Her face, so contorted in pain, so slow… So slow! She deserved not to die in a such a cruel way!

"Men…. Start your consoles! We must lure the Satan Spawn here!" The crack of power switches being turned on filled the field. Clicks of mouse's and keyboards, filled the atmosphere. The images of IRC, Netscape, and networked games filled over a million screens.

"Its coming!" someone screamed. The knight looked up, and there it was. The demon itself, large, ugly, and yellow. The yellow of decaying bodies. It howled at the sun, then sparks flew from its body. The sparks spread along the terminals, striking the brave people.

"Keep it coming! We must not let it escape!" The people kept playing their games, browsing pages, and chatting. The demon struck them down one by one. Finally, on tentacle of lag reached out towards the Black Box. The knight could feel his body slow… and he went to press the body. He was moving too slow! The monster was withdrawing. The knight strained, and pressed down on his thumb. The thumb tracked down… slowly. I must… press the button! The thumb made contact with the button. The tentacle was starting to move away. Nooo! "Noooo!!!!" Metal met metal, the current ran through the box. A blue light, the light of Cable modems, instant access to millions of sites over the world. The light to see one in real time, and to talk with them, even though they were separated by a whole world.

The blue light streaked through the box, and up the Demons tentacle. A blood curling shriek, the shriek that come only from Hell itself, escaped the demon. It was now surrounded in a blue haze. It started to go fast. Too fast. It ran around knocking frozen people over, knocking out power lines, and smashing houses. The demon screamed once more, then tore itself apart. Blue ghosts flew from the fading body. Each of them the soul of a lagged user. They returned to their bodies, as T-3's, Cable Modems, and the Information Super Highway came alive. The world was safe and sound in the Technological Age, again!

writers@mcint.com
Last Updated: February 7, 1997