I was over at a neighbor's house in 1978 when I wandered into the
den and found the resident 15-year-old busily cobbling something
together with a screwdriver and some other odds and ends. "Whatcha'
doin'?" I asked in my best Midwestern accent. "Oh," he replied, I'm
tapping into checking account records at the ________ Bank." He
pointed to the small television set that his thingamajig was
attached to, and scrolling (well, I would have described it as
"rolling" back then) down the screen were names and numbers and all
sorts of data. I asked, "How in the heck are you doing that?" He
gave me a semitechnical answer, but what it boiled down to was he
was, as we would now say, hacking. He was also causing some
mischief, but that's another story for another time.

Things have changed a lot in the intervening 23 years. Computers
are everywhere now --- right in front of you, for example --- and I
wouldn't call it an invasion. We've pretty much opened the door and
invited them in, attracted by their allure, just as we would a
wampyr that would come a-tapping on the window at 3:13 a.m.
bearing promises of unbelievable pleasure and the realities of
excruciating pain. Computers have so inserted themselves into our
lives that we hardly think about them. That's about to change,
however, if you sit down for a few hours and read THE BLUE NOWHERE
by Jeffery Deaver.

Deaver has commented elsewhere concerning the tenacious outlining
and research he engages in before he ultimately sets thought to
paper. The research part of that quickly becomes evident in THE
BLUE NOWHERE. Have you ever stopped to think about the mechanics
involved in the near miracle that takes place when you touch a
button or key on your keyboard and it miraculously materializes on
your video monitor? You probably don't think about it at all, until
the day you sit down to write that business proposal that's due in
two hours and key "The quick brown fox jumped over the fence" and
it comes out "Gds wscud vorsx rcm hypdcc xcgn psw blgnv." Deaver
explains the mechanics of it and makes it not just interesting but
fascinating --- and does it without detracting from the narrative
of his storyline. Deaver also gives us some wonderful little
nuggets concerning who is regarded as the first computer programmer
(their last name does not begin or end with "Gates"), a little
history of the personal computer, and an abject lesson or three
about how much information about you is floating around in
the blue nowhere, bouncing around electronically like dandelion
thistles blowing through the air on a spring day, out there to be
snatched at random.

And that last thought ties in with the storyline. Longtime readers
of Deaver know what to expect, which actually heightens the
suspense. The bad guy in THE BLUE NOWHERE is a hacker, a freaking
maniacal genius hacker, whose code name is Phate. Phate is playing
a very, very deadly game wherein he picks a victim at random,
invades their computer, their personal life, and then murders them.
He could be anybody and he could be anywhere. Phate is playing the
game with the enigmatic Shawn, who is even more mysterious than
Phate. Either one of them could be any character in the THE BLUE
NOWHERE. The reader has no way of knowing. Deaver, as a result of
meticulous outlining, planning, and --- let's say it --- raw,
unbridled literary talent, thus makes the appearance of even the
most minor, walk-on character potentially portentous. Phate could
be the pizza guy, the motorcycle cop, the cashier, anyone. And if
the readers don't know who Phate is, the local law enforcement guys
don't either.

Once they realize that Phate is out there, a task force comprised
of law enforcement personnel and computer experts is formed to
bring him down. The task force head, in desperation and over
objections, springs Wyatt Gillette, an imprisoned hacker, to help
out with the investigation. Gillette is as brilliant as is Phate, a
fact that only serves to infuriate Phate and make him ratchet his
activities up a notch or two. When Phate strikes at the very heart
of the task force, seemingly at whim, their work becomes even more
intense. No one is safe; and they can trust no one.

Deaver at this point seems incapable of writing badly, and each new
book he publishes becomes, by default, his best. He sustains this
energy, this momentum, with THE BLUE NOWHERE. One caveat, however:
this book will change you. You will never turn on a computer or a
cell phone again without thinking about THE BLUE NOWHERE.