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OS Shrugged 
by John Tibbetts and Barbara Bernstein  

InformationWeek, December 8, 1997 


With apologies to Ayn Rand, our story of the genius they tried to stop . . . and couldn't! 

 
Bill Gates laughed. 
     He strode through the house by the water, lights and music following him from room to room in response to the heat of his body. From monitors on the walls flickered great works of art, remnants of an age when the highest achievements of the human spirit were celebrated rather than feared. 
     A rumpled young man in eyeglasses rushed into the room, waving a screen shot from the Microsoft Network. "Damn them, Bill!" he cried. "Those parasites! Now they’ve got that pack of weasels in the—" his face contorted—"Justice Department trying to bring down the Explorer!" He looked up at Gates with an anguished expression. "They hate you because you’re great!" 
     Gates placed a powerful hand on the youth’s shoulder. "We don’t let the looters worry us, Nathan." 
     "But it’s like you say, Bill. We’re giving customers what they want. We’re delivering value. We’re letting the market decide. And they call us a monopoly!" 
     Gates looked almost carefree. "They can’t stop us," he said. 
     "So—we’re going ahead with Windows 2001?" 
     "Of course. Within six months, we’ll have Robert’s Rules of Order, all broadcast frequencies above 30 megahertz, and the world’s entire supply of animal protein incorporated into our operating system." Gates smiled. "Let the market decide." 
# # #

Across town, Gates’ enemies huddled like sheep. The lisping, myopic Attorney General. The Silicon Valley lawyer with his snappy suit and perpetual sneer. The self-styled consumer advocate, for whom "innovation" and "profit" were dirty words. The Senator who preached morality but whose stained tie bespoke a life of unspeakable depravity.  
     The president of a second-rate browser company spoke up, a weak-chinned man with flabby hands. "It’s not fair," he whined. "We deserve a chance too. They won’t let us into their environment, and everything we try to do, they do better." 
     "There ought to be laws against privateers like that," offered the lawyer. "I’ll file suit." 
     "He’s too successful," agreed the Senator, wishing he had a drink. "We don’t like to see that kind of money in private hands." 
     "I’ve always said," sniveled the consumer advocate, "that the government should decide what software people get to buy!"  
     A man in a military uniform rose from the armchair where he’d been hidden. "You can rely on us to neutralize this threat," he drawled. "We’ve got weapons facilities in a number of secret sites working round the clock on Project Java. Our friends in Iraq have been particularly helpful." He chuckled mirthlessly, and the others joined in. 
     The Attorney General snored peacefully.  

# # #

Late that night, Gates looked out over the city. A cigarette dangled from his long fingers. 
     Melissande watched him from the shadows, her slim figure sheathed in an exquisitely-cut negligee. "I can’t stand to see them destroy you, Gates" she said tonelessly. "Except for the editorial page of The Wall Street Journal, you’re alone." 
     "I’ve always stood alone. I developed the graphical user interface alone. I invented browser technology alone. It’s never frightened me, being ahead of the crowd." 
     "You can’t fight them all." 
     "I’ll make them business partners. Then they’ll be helpless." 
     She gasped. "I’d given up believing that men like you existed. You’re not just great, you’re predatory. Hold me, Gates." 
     There was silence then, except for the click of the server rebooting. Windows 98 had crashed again.  

# # #
 
 
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