“So we just needed to connect another computer—running a Linux operating system instead of Windows—to the enabled Firewire port on the laptop,” Jaimie explained. “The machine is then tricked into allowing the connected computer to have read and write access to its memory. We then ran a special program on our computer that found the log-in password in the laptop’s memory. Then we logged in using that password.”
“And we thoroughly vetted all the programs. He’s got quite a few he modified, and he’s good. But then we found this.” Javier indicated the screen. “He’s got himself what has to be a classified program. We normally wouldn’t have a problem breaking into it, but we were expecting a normal-length password, not this.”
“I don’t understand.” He hated those three words. And he often had to use them around Jaimie and her precious computers.
Jaimie flashed her world-class smile. “Well, Mack, here’s the thing. Encryption techniques are now so powerful that it’s virtually impossible to intercept encrypted files or e-mail messages in transit and decode them. The weak point in security systems is always at the place where someone accesses an encrypted file or e-mail message. Usually this is a matter of entering a password chosen by the person. And because people aren’t very good at choosing secure passwords, it’s not too hard to break into their files. It’s not so much that they base their passwords on things other people might guess. It’s more that their passwords are too short. In fact, if their password is made of letters and numbers and is less than twenty-three characters long, I can run a special program off a supercomputer that will test every possible combination, and be able to find their password within a few hours.”
Javier nodded. “And—even though all the security specialists recommend it—
we’ll never be able to convince most people to choose random passwords with more than twenty-three characters.” He winked at Mack. “Bet your password isn’t more than twenty-three characters.”
“I lived with Jaimie for a year. Believe me, I can barely remember the damned thing it has so many letters and numbers.”
Jaimie smirked at him. “You can always ask me if you ever forget it.”
Mack rolled his eyes. “I told you it was useless. She can get into my computer.”
Javier grinned at him. “I don’t think you’re ever going to get away with sending hot e-mails to Internet babes.”
“Another approach people have tried is biometrics: using the unique characteristics of a person’s biology to allow only that person, or a group of people, to have access to something,” Jaimie continued, giving Javier a warning kick beneath the desk. “The most familiar use of biometrics is retinal scanning: You place your eyeball in front of a retinal scanner, it measures various features of a person’s retina against a database that stores the retinal info for legitimate people.”
Javier put down his coffee. “We’re all familiar with retinal scanners as a way of limiting access to sections of buildings. But you can add retinal scanning to a computer as well, as a way of making sure that only you are allowed access to your computer or to certain files. A major drawback is that you have to add this ‘retinal scanning’ hardware—a special device you press your eyeball up against. You can’t just run a program on your computer. In addition, there are horror stories that go along with this technology, like security break-ins being accomplished by cutting out a person’s eyeball and holding it up to a retinal scanner . . .” Javier wiggled his eyebrows to look evil.
“Unfortunately”—Jaimie gave a little shudder—“that really does work.”
“Can I just bring the kid down here and shove his eye at the computer, or do you need me to really cut it out?” Mack asked, straight-faced.
Jaimie made a face at him. “I don’t think we need to do anything quite so drastic.
My PhD dissertation introduced a new approach that combines the idea of generating more secure passwords with the idea behind biometrics: coming up with a unique identifier for each person. Here’s the idea. Just like a person’s retina or fingerprint, everyone’s brain is unique. In particular, everyone has memories that no one else has.
If we could identify a unique memory for a person, and find a way to express it in the form of a sequence of words—enough words to be secure of—we’d have a password no one could ever break. The program would be a terrific new tool for security without requiring the extra hardware that biometric approaches like retinal scanning does, and without having to remember an impossibly long sequence of random letters and numbers. I call it ‘mememetrics’—because, in contrast with biometrics, it’s based on unique memories rather than unique biological characteristics.”
“How does it work?” Javier asked.
“Here’s how it’s done. My AI program conducts an interview with a person aimed at ferreting out a memory unique to that person, and expressing it in six words: the password. A password made of six unguessable words is just as secure as a password made of twenty-three random letters and numbers.”
“Because there are about 170,000 words in the dictionary,” Javier said, grinning with excitement. “Brilliant, Jaimie. I knew there was a reason I fell madly in love with you.”
Mack smacked him on the back of the head. “She’s in love with me. Keep talking, Jaimie.”
Javier ignored him. “If you choose six words at random from the dictionary for a password, a program trying to crack the password would have to search through an impossibly large number of combinations.”
Jaimie nodded. “Multiply 170,000 by 170,000 by 170,000 by . . . you get the idea:
six 170,000s multiplied together. Our fastest supercomputers would take over three hundred years to search through all the possibilities. So this kind of password is pretty secure.”
“You never told me about this, Jaimie,” Javier said. “How does the program work?”
“It has about a thousand different ‘schemas’ representing different kinds of remembered personal experiences: from happy childhood memories, to low-grade traumatic experiences, to fantasies, to love or sexual memories, to memories of accomplishments, on and on.”
Mack frowned at her. “I don’t want to know the kid’s sexual fantasies, Jaimie, just his password. I need a look into that computer.”