"Listen, mom, stop bitching at me. I logged off at 11:00 pm." Parents are such pains. You'd think they'd be happy to have me at home; instead they make my life suck. It's none of their business that I was up to 5:00 am BBSing; I'm 16 and I have rights. No one is gonna push me around.

"You really shouldn't lie to me, Toddy; your father saw the light from your room and told me you fell asleep at your terminal, and it was still doing things on the screen at 7:00 am."

Moms. They have no sense of humor.

Ok, I'm a cruddy liar. Sometimes you just can't get away with anything, but I did get away with something great, not too long ago. I found out the secret hiding place of the world's biggest BBS -- Baud Town. Of course, we used to call it "Fraud Town", but since I learned a lot about it, it seems smarter to shut up. I may be the only kid to discover where Baud Town is . . . and get to tell about it.

Part of the deal I made with Baud Town's SYSOPS was to tell what I saw. I couldn't understand, but now I know why they made me do this. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

This was the damndest thing I'd ever done. All we wanted to do was find out where Baud Town really was. I mean, we'd all talked about it endlessly. Even before we got our butts kicked out for being underage, everyone was guessing that Baud Town was at Da Mayor's house, or that it really resided in that big blue building on Van Nuys Boulevard that we tailed Lex to one Saturday morning. We were wrong. Most amazing of all, we discovered the truth with little effort.

One of our guys was really into telephone company things and claimed that he could, if he wanted to, trace any phone number anywhere. That way, we'd know where Baud Town was located. I told "X" to check out the (818) 893-0340 number and trace things from there. It seemed simple. Wrong.

We found out that, amazingly enough, the billing address for 893-0340 was a mailbox. We looked at the mailbox and let me tell you, there's no way you could fit anything into it other than envelopes let alone a big computer, monitor, keyboard and 32 modems. I mean, I've seen the modems in the apartment that "X" runs his BBS out of; 24 modems take up a lot of space.

We staked out the mail drop. A few of us cut school. We must have spent a week following Linda around and getting nowhere. Then we decided to follow Lex. Lex was easier to tail, but then a man his size is easy to follow. However, Lex suddenly would step on the gas in his Vette and disappear. We found his "secret" office on Van Nuys Boulevard, but saw nothing there.

After more checking by X, we learned that all of the calls to 893-0340 were actually forwarded to another phone number! This phone number was billed to an address on Mulholland Drive in the Griffith Park area.

Strange-- an address that appeared to be in the center of the friggin' park! A bunch of us drove up there, found where the numbers stopped, drove to where the numbers resumed, but couldn't find the actual address. Really interesting stuff. It looked like the number was on Mulholland right above the HOLLYWOOD sign. So we did, at first, what users on "X"'s BBS normally do:

We gave up.

Except that *I* don't give up so easily. I went home, threw some Diet Coke, cookies, and toilet paper into my backpack and drove back to Griffith Park later that same afternoon. I went to the Observatory, which was the closest too. I was not happy. After some Diet Coke and cookies I started climbing behind the sign, up to the big doors. I spent forever climbing around there and couldn't find the damn doors. By then it was quite cold, I had to go, and I was pissed. At least I had brought some toilet paper.

After deciding I'd missed the doors, I hiked around the mountain to the valley side, to where I could see Mulholland below. My crappy luck finally changed.

I found it.

A huge concrete portal about 14 feet high and 11 feet wide framed a rusty steel door around 11 feet high and 8 feet wide that looked like it could handle an atomic bomb blast. The real give-away, though, was that the letters "BT" were pressed into concrete lintel, centered directly above the door and in the exact center of the door was carved:

Fred. The only Fred I could think of was Fred Gernand, of beloved memory, Da Mayor of Baud Town! Probably the best SYSOP that ever lived. Fred. Back at "X"'s BBS the mere mention of Fred's name and "X" would feel sick to his stomach and tell us that while he could never sanction us, he sure wouldn't object when we tried to teach Fred and BT a lesson. That Fred! I was in the right place.

Actually, I was a little nervous. I could see the path leading down to Mulholland. There were a number of cars parked where the path came out: a little red rice rocket, a darker colored rice rocket, a black ZR-1 Corvette, an early Z-car . . . all sorts of neat cars. I had a great view of the valley. I saw my hands shaking. What I couldn't see was how to get in.

I took out my trusty mag-lite and examined the door. I had missed something earlier. Right where the steel door went behind the concrete, on the right side about 5 feet above ground, was a hand-print. It was a lot cleaner than the rest of the door. Not exactly shiny, but neither rust nor dust. I was scared and I wanted in! (Actually, I was more nervous than I want anyone to know.) I was shaking. I mean, here I am, the bravest kid in all of "X"'s bbs, I've just found where Baud Town might really be, and I'm goddamn shaking like a leaf. This is not cool stud-like behavior.

I did it, though. First I peed in the bushes (that's how nervous I really was). Then I did it. I pressed my hand directly into the hand print. The door felt warm to my touch and I felt a tingling sensation . . . I could hear the sound of hydraulic pumps . . . and ever so silently and slowly the door began to open. I looked in; it was dark . . . even with the Maglite it was dark: a tunnel with some black golf carts parked along the side.

I stepped in, and the door slammed shut so hard it sounded like a giant bass timpani banging. Man, I felt that bass go right through me! I looked back at the door; there was no hand-print on the inside. I was a DFK. There was no way out. Then I heard it, music coming from somewhere. . . Sort of soft KROQ stuff. I was going to walk towards it, but I couldn't see where the tunnel ended, so I went over to the golf carts.

The golf carts were really cool. They were parked off to one side, all were black and had gold BT's on their front fenders. One had a squirrel with a red slash over it just below the "BT". There were built-in CD players on all of them. Interestingly enough, one had mini-racing slicks on the rear wheels and, when I sat in it, an unusually heavy suspension. So that's the one I took.

The cart was electric and when I turned the switch on its control panel to "on", its front light brightened the whole tunnel and I started driving. The tunnel was incredibly long and sloped down to the left. I drove very quietly, slowly, and finally came to this neat red door. I got out and walked over to it. That's when I noticed the cart I rode down on was backing up the ramp! Its light was still on, but clearly it was going back to the top.

The door was red, and covered in smooth, shiny red leather with brass studs in it. No handle, no hand-print.

Just large roman numeral, "IX", centered about 6 feet above the ramp. The music was slightly more audible at this end of the tunnel. I pressed on the door .. . it opened, and I walked into what could only be a reception area, softly lit with the music clearly audible.

"Welcome to the key 9 lounge, user 4125," boomed a voice from a hidden speaker. he knew who I was! "You have made an unauthorized access to the Baud Town World Headquarters. Welcome. A staff person will deal with you shortly. Kindly remove your shoes before proceeding further." I was a little shaken. I could see a lot of shoes off to the left. I was NOT going to take my shoes off, no matter what! I could see another red leather-covered door. These folks must be big on red leather, I thought.

"You are directed to remove your shoes at once! Do not delay!" said the same voice. "This is not a democracy, you are a trespasser. A bang-K in this environment means more than a line kill. Comply at once!" I guess I'm not THAT brave. I took my shoes off real fast. I had holes in my sweat-sox. I hoped they didn't notice that.

"You will stand back three feet from the door, which will open shortly. You will be greeted as a guest by a member of our staff. Please follow his or her instructions precisely." Same voice, this time sounding almost friendly.

The inner door opened and this Hispanic guy came through, shook my hand and said, "I'm Cheeze 249, Don Qso de la Orden de los Llaves Novenas, please come with me." So I shook his hand. I actually met Cheeze! Very kewl.

Cheeze says "Listen 4125-loc, you're not supposed to be here, but since you are, you'll get to see everything... We've learned that by showing you everything you'll understand that you'll never be able to describe what you're about to see without our permission." He even looked friendly when he said that.

"I'm not agreeing to anything, man. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. You got that?" I said. Cheeze kept smiling.

"Not to worry, 4125-loc, you'll agree with us in the end. Please follow me." Cheeze turned and walked into a really fine looking lounge area.

"This, 4125-loc, is the Key IX Lounge. Savor what you see. Being =STAFF= is a cruddy job. This is part of the pay back. You'll see the Malibu facilities later today." Cheeze walked over to a wall beautifully paneled in dark rosewood, opened a panel and pointed out this huge bar. "Help yourself, loc, it's free. We'll be eating dinner in the Key IX later this evening." Cheeze fixed himself a drink and sat on one of the large leather sofas relaxing while I scoped the room.

The Key IX Lounge was friggin' incredible. It was huge, with a high ceiling. The walls were an awesome dark reddish rosewood. The floors were laid with herring-boned hardwood. All sorts of rugs: some persian, some navajo, some chinese; even a big fire place along one wall. Plus, there were about 6 major sitting areas, and all this awesomely comfortable furniture. Near the bar was a table covered with a green baize table cloth, with some really choice munchies on it. I couldn't see it, but there was this great sound system playing in the background.

Cheeze walked over to me. "C'mon 4125-loc, we've gotta hoof it. This way please," said Cheeze as he took my arm and guided me through this hidden hallway. "We're going to go through the staff rooms on the way down to reception."

"Each =STAFF= gets to furnish his own room, where he or she spends time between shifts. This room on the left is Mira 1340's. Look inside, man."

I looked inside. The room was the size of a big living room. Mira had it furnished in browns and greens. Exactly in the center was a circular bed. In the ceiling above the bed was a circular mirror. This wasn't that bad. I could learn to like this. I mean, at "X"'s BBS they washed and re-used condoms. This place was a lot different.

"Cheeze, are the other rooms just like this?"

"No, 4125-loc; while they're all about the same size and shape, only Mira has a mirror over his bed. He does a lot of entertaining down here."

"Oh." I mean, what else could I say? I doubt if my parents ever had a bed with a mirror above it. And here I am, still trying for a first g/f. "Where do we go now, Don Cheeze?"

"We will walk down this corridor about 50 more yards and you will come the Elevator," said Cheeze. The way he said "The Elevator" you could just see the capitalized "T" and "E." The Elevator.

"The Elevator" was the right way to say it. Set into concrete, with the usual "BT" above it was yet another steel door, this one all shiny. Where the buttons normally are was another hand-print. Cheeze placed his hand against it and the door slid open.

The Elevator. Another BT creation. It was like a small room, with red-velvet covered benches around the non-door sides, a hardwood floor with a small persian carpet in various tones of red, and mirrors on the wall.

"You'd better sit down for this ride, loc. It's a long way down," cautioned Cheeze.

He wasn't kidding. The moment we were seated the elevator began its descent. I'm glad I was sitting. It felt like free fall and then, after about 45 seconds, we abruptly decelerated. The door opened and we walked out into yet another incredible reception area.

Directly across from The Elevator, about 25 feet away, was one of those shiny brass-bar walls, sort of like jail bars but much fancier. Just beyond this was another sitting area.

"Wait here, 4125-loc." Cheeze said as he entered through the heavy brass cage, "Someone else will come out at get you."

It was definitely getting weirder. I was left in a large open area. This time no fancy stuff. Concrete walls, a dark green carpet underfoot. The fancy brass bars cut the area in half width-wise, the whole area was probably 50 feet long and 25 feet wide. Indirect lighting. Quiet . . really quiet with something different: every few minutes there was a distinct rumble, a gently rising and falling vibration. I could almost hear my heart beating.

"Come with me, please." I turned and saw a dark complexioned young man, about 15 or 16. "I'm Paris, one of the new staff. I'll take you in to meet Baud Town."

I followed as Paris walked up to the brass bars; a floor to ceiling gate opened and we walked through. Quietly the gate closed, and I could hear the sound of hydraulic bolts locking the gate down. We walked the remaining 25 feet and made a right and walked about 50 feet further where the hall opened into a circular room about 75 feet in diameter, in the center of which was a large column, about 40 feet in diameter. I thought we were in some kind of race track. Still there was the same dark green carpeting and cold concrete walls.

We walked clockwise about half the distance. Directly ahead of me were two people; the woman had a neat figure, about 5'4", svelte, dressed in a long black gown, nice cut in front and wearing a pearl choker, she was talking to a man about 6'3" or 6'4", clearly over 300 pounds, with greying hair, dressed in a dark blue business suit, white shirt, a large gold Rolex on his left wrist, gold cuff links and a red bow-tie. Neither noticed us as Paris and I walked up to them.

"Good evening Linda . . . Lex," said Paris, shaking hands first with Linda and then Lex. "I have 4125, the kid we trapped on level 1, one of the few surviving members of the Baud Town Inquisition from the "X" bbs. Remember, we have plans for him, that's why you had Thumper allow him to enter."

Here I was, in the presence of Baud Town's SYSOPs, me . . . just plain 4125, shorn of my own name. And they were staring at me.

"What do you think, Lex?" said Linda.

"He'll do," Lex allowed, "You will follow us, pay close attention, touch nothing," Lex ordered and the four of us walked another 10 feet around the central core, which was where I saw the most amazing sight of all.

We stopped in front of a huge, round safe door, the circular style, like a huge plug, with combination locks on the front and big circular handles. The door had to weigh about a million pounds, but opened in an incredibly balanced way when Paris pulled it opened. We walked through another hallway, about 10 feet long and entered the most incredible room.

I was in The Presence. The room was round, 20 feet in diameter. Softly lit around the edges, with a deep-red carpeting, and no concrete. The walls were paneled again with dark wood. In the exact center of the room, under a dozen quartz-halogen bulbs set in a circle in the ceiling, were two computers, each had a 20" NEC 5D Monitor and keyboard. The two computers were contained within a shiny brass circular railing, 12 feet across. There were two large armchairs, one before each machine. Under the railing were kneelers, obviously taken from a church. One of the kneelers was down and there were several people in prayerful repose before Baud Town itself.

Lex began speaking. "You're looking at two mirror-synched 486/50DX machines, each with 1.3 Gigabytes of hard disk storage. This is Baud Town. The machines connect to the modem bank on the table behind the two computers. Do not touch anything. Pull out the kneeler from under the bar, rest your knees and focus upon that which you see."

I was there for a long time. I spoke with the others there, they were BT people, invited to observe. They were pretty surprised when they found out how I got there. From time to time someone would come in and sit at the machine on the right, which was The Console, type something in and then leave. I was finally relaxing when Lex began to speak again.

"4125, you are a very lucky trespasser. You've arrived at the perfect moment. You're even going to be allowed to leave. With me is Mira 1340, one of our staff. You are delivered into his care, custody and control for the balance of your tour."

Lex lifted the railing and took the seat at the console.

Mira took me by the elbow and led me out of the vault. I was really shaken. I felt I had been in the most holy of places. But they had plans for me. I was still pretty scared.

"What's gonna happen with me?" At least my voice wasn't shaking.

"You'll see. We have plans for you. You're useful to us. On the other hand, you might not be."

"How can you say that to me?"

"I'm using my mouth, you twit. Just keep walking with me."

"Ok, Ok, I'll go along with you." Mira steered me back along the long corridor, crossing where I had made that right turn. We passed by the entry tunnel, and I could see the brass bars shining in the distance.

"Hey, I don't wanna go down this way."

"What you want to do is just not important at this moment, 4125," said Mira as he propelled me down another long corridor.

"C'mon Mira, tell me where we're going?"

"Dinner."

Here I am, trying not to soil my drawers, and all we're doing is going to dinner. But I still had some Pepperidge Farm cookies in my backpack.

"I don't want dinner; I have my own cookies in my backpack."

"You don't have your backpack with you, do you?"

Oh man, I left it with the shoes. I was screwed. I wondered what I was gonna do about it.

"No, I don't have it." We arrived at another leather covered door, this one green. No more red leather. And things were really quiet. "Listen Mira, I don't want to go in there."

"No one's asking your opinion. I'm gonna leave you here. You're not to move. Someone will be along to take you in." Mira did not sound friendly. He left.

I thought I could hear him walking away, but the carpet was too thick. In fact, the only thing I heard was a "thump!" and the lights disappeared. In a few moments I was really confused as to where I was. I sat down on the carpet.

"Click!" I know the sound of a gun being cocked. I've watched a lot TV and I know the sound. I didn't move. I could hear my own heart beating.

"You were told NOT to move. Stand up. Do precisely as you're told." It was the hidden voice. I'm not that dumb, so I stood up and froze in place.

Things started to get really weird. I was trying to maintain my balance in the dark when a spotlight gently lit the green door . . . but there were two green doors. In front of this was what I thought was a little kid.

"Hey short dude, whassup?" I had to say something, didn't I?

"I'm Buster, a key IX here in Baud Town. You may think I look like a kid, but as =STAFF= I have to ask you a question. How you answer it will determine what happens next."

"Ok, Buster, let me hear what you have to say." I thought this was a manly way to speak. Buster, though, didn't look like a short little dude. He seemed to grow. I don't know about this, but a 6'4" Buster?

"Ok, Mr. Buster, I'm ready to choose. I'm sorry about the 'short dude' comment. What do you want from me?"

"A simple answer. Choose the door on the left or the door on the right. Just say 'left' or 'right.'"

I thought for a few seconds. The doors looked alike. Doors? There was just one when I entered and they turned the lights off. Now there were two: both big, covered in green leather with more of those brass thingies set in the door . . . and the usual hand print.

"Would you like me to make up your mind for you?" Buster was getting impatient and looking awfully big. I took a deep breath and said: "Left."

Buster faced the left door and placed his right hand flat on the hand-print. The hydraulic pump-sounds could be heard as the door swung inward. Interesting place. We walked in to a sort of waiting room. Things were different. The furniture was weird-modern, the wood floor was in long, whitish panels. There was a big, reddish-brown Navajo rug.

"Buster, where precisely are we going? What is this?"

"You're in the entry room to the Key IX dining hall; in a few moments the wall will open and we'll go in for dinner."

"What's for dinner?"

"This is a Saturday, so we usually have this awesome BBQ brought in from Phillip's BBQ in South Central L.A. In fact, BBQ is what we serve at official =STAFF= dinners."

"Kewl." I could handle BBQ. The back wall begins to slide and now I can see into another large area; there's an awful lot of people in there.

"Come with me, 4125, and please don't touch anything. You're welcome to ask me questions, please don't bother the invited guests."

This sucks. I'm stuck with this kid, I've got no choice, and they don't even treat me like a guest.

"You're probably bitching about not being treated like a guest. Remember, you trespassed. You're not yet a guest."

"Yeah. Now, who are all these people? I mean I know who's =STAFF= and who's a SYSOP. But there's a pretty good crowd here."

"Pretty good crowd" was an understatement. There were 25 or 30 people in the room. It was big . . . like a fancy restaurant, with three rows of long tables. The tables were set up in this funny way: Twelve spaces at a table, one place at each end and five on each side. The tables were made of this shiny, dark wood. Really polished. There were big plates on top of place mats and huge stacks of napkins. One nice folded napkin on the plate, and at three places on each table what looked like a couple of dozen more napkins.

Everyone was wearing these security-type badges; Everyone except me. They're neat badges, they have some sort of seal on them. I could see Linda and Ivan, Baud Town's SYSOPS at one end of the room, their badges gold with what looked like a red stripe across one corner. I see that Cheese and Buster were wearing gold badges but I couldn't see any stripes. The other people were wearing white badges. Everyone had the same seal on their badges.

"One bit of good news, we don't call each others by numbers. Can I call you Todd?"

"Sure, Buster." We actually shook hands. People here had manners. "Who are these other people? They're not all =STAFF= are they?"

"Nope. You've come in at a good time. The staff people all wear gold badges, the red or blue stripes are for access. Only SYSOPS have red stripes. The guests wear the white badges. Todd, you're gonna be on your own for a while. You have to wear a guest badge." Buster clipped a white badge on my shirt.