Friday, October 21, 2005

Disaster Recovery Planning

“We backed you up twenty minutes ago.”

Rumbling noises emanating from the handset revealed nothing to the platoon. They clutched their 40-watt phase-plasma rifles in anticipation. Their sergeant continued the call:

“You’re only on our silver service plan. Under the Ts and Cs of the SLA we have until 2300 to have you operational.”

Rumble.

“The risk is too high.”

Emphatic rumbles. The platoon members viewed each other nervously.

“We can make an exception. You’ll be back up in 10-minutes if you’ve got something to trade… MREs? We’re already short selling… Clean water? The market value has gone to shit. Those damn Indians have flooded the market with their reverse osmosis technology.”

The platoon tensed—a deal was coming to a close.

“Just how bio- is your bio-diesel? Can you promise an assay of 70% VOC?”

Just like that, it finished.

“Deal. We’ll arrange the logistics.”

Sarge calmly hung up the handset, savoring the negotiation. He spoke two words and the lab-coated rocket-scientist ran to the controls of their Storage Area Network.

“Saddle Up! We’ve got a debt to collect. Set rifles to kill."

The blast door opened and the disaster recovery team filed into the fetid swamp of downtown New Orleans.

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