INTRODUCTION
David N. Cutler, wearing white Reeboks, white pants and a T-shirt bearing the legend OVER
THE LINE, bursts into the Build Lab and takes stock of the largest, most complex program ever
created for a personal computer.
It is 10:20 in the morning, and the latest "build" of the program, called Windows NT, is hours
late. Cutler, the leader of the team making NT, is angry about the delay, angry about a botched test
the day before, angry at the world. He knows that nothing slows progress more than a steady
accumulation of small lapses, and he is bent on pushing ahead.
Cutler insists on frequent builds, or samples, of NT so that his 250 programmers can "eat their
own dog food." It is a frustrating experience, not unlike building a house from scratch while living
in it. The sooner a build arrives, the sooner his team will test their latest creation, discover its
imperfections and improve it.
Scowling, Cutler now slumps into a swivel chair and glares at the computer screen before him.
He hits a few keys and groans.
Cutler's unhappiness is contagious. Three builders, who stitch together NT with the aid of
computers, hover behind Cutler, busying themselves while Cutler churns. One, a shoeless and
jittery young man, juggles three rubber balls. He is surrounded by dozens of computers. The voice
of Aretha Franklin, romping through "Dr. Feelgood," fills the room from the stereo speakers
mounted on the wall.
No fan of juggling or Aretha, Cutler growls. He jumps to his feet, flinging the chair behind him,
and storms out of the lab. The shoeless juggler and the chief builder dip into a big jar of Rolaids,
popping one each. The day has soured early.
Minutes later, Cutler returns to the Build Lab even more upset. His bowlegged gait and burly
arms remind people of Popeye. "You're wasting the whole goddamn morning not having this
goddamn thing ready," he snaps. Then, sounding dejected, he tells the juggler, "Call me if you ever
get this [build] out today."
His face reddening even more, Cutler leaves again, steaming. His rough creed forbids him from
containing his emotions. "The way you let off stress is to let it out," he says. He isn't too particular
about how he does it. A circle drawn on the wall near the door marks the spot where he once
unleashed a violent kick, cracking his toe. Just the other day, he smashed a wall with his fist,
which ordinarily would not have caused a stir except that this time he hit a stud and broke a finger.
Cutler's impatience is ill mannered but understandable. Time means everything to him now. He
is a year behind schedule, and after years of work his team is tired and frustrated. Only the
enormity of their goal sustains them now. The 250 members of the team aim to produce a
computer program so powerful and versatile that someday everyone will need it. Standing in their
way are thousands of bugs, or coding errors, and persistent doubts about the basic design of NT,
which stands for "New Technology."
Rather than a single entity, NT consists of scores of intertwined programs that together
comprise an operating system. This software turns a personal computer into a precise tool of
thought, helping a person or an organization control its most valuable asset: information. NT
exerts its power through a dizzying succession of ordinary actions. Seemingly at once, it may open
a computer file, move text or graphics from one place to another on a screen, print a letter,
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