2005: A Microsoft odyssey, Volume II

This is the second of three articles exploring what might lie ahead for Microsoft should the U.S Department of Justice win its antitrust case against the software giant. In last week's installment, we imagined what would happen if Microsoft was split into different companies. Here we envision a world in which Microsoft has been forced to give away the Windows source code as a way of remedying its alleged anticompetitive behavior.

Scenario 2: An open Windows for the world

After browsing an online news site, Bill Gates slams his mouse down in a fit of anger. He sputters to himself that the press is having a field day at his expense. For the hundredth time, he vows to stop reading about the never-ending stream of bugs in those parts of the Windows operating system that Microsoft didn't build.

"It's those Open Source geeks that are wreaking havoc on my Windows world," Gates laments. Instead of getting enthusiastic developers such as those committed to Linux, the Windows freeware following is regularly infiltrated by a group of talented coders determined to bring Windows down. There is a covert "kill Windows" mission in place, and it's making Windows the butt of every industry prank and joke.

For example, there was that "Dear Sis" service that one hacker built back in 2002 that sent annoying mail to Gates' sister every time the end user hit return. He still gets an earful about that one every holiday.

It's the Monday after New Year's Eve. Gates gives up on the World Wide Web, grabs a stack of trade rags and sits down on his virtual-reality dirt bike to multitask - his term for exercising and doing some old-style reading. "What's this Y2005 bug they've got here?" he asks himself as he pumps his legs and reads on. "Unsuspecting Windows PC owners were humming to Auld Lang Syne last week while their machines were all trying to connect long-distance with the same Web server in Bora Bora."

"Where do these guys get their twisted ideas?" he asks himself aloud.

Gates knows all too well that every negative Windows article means he'll get at least a dozen "Dear Bill" letters from formerly loyal independent software vendors telling him they just can't afford to keep building their applications on top of an unreliable operating system. He's witnessed his developer community drop by 63% since former Attorney General Janet Reno forced him to give up his intellectual property without a dime in compensation.

Even worse, Gates can't rein in the PC makers anymore because they've all tweaked the software to run on their proprietary hardware.

Gates throws the newspaper into the recycling bin and thinks back to how he tried to limit access to the Windows code while staying in line with the court order.

Gates did indeed make the Windows source code readily available; well, at least it was available to anyone who really wanted it badly enough. He still grins when he thinks about how he originally opened Windows. He posted the 60 million lines of Windows 2000 code on Microsoft's corporate Web site in accordance with the court ruling. But then he placed it on a segment of the site that was accessible only via a 14.4K bit/sec modem over a dialup link. This resulted in a three-day download delay.

But that was short-lived because the Linux guys got one copy and posted it on their Open Source site, and Apple's Steve Jobs personally financed a T-3 connection from the Linux server to America Online's Internet portal. Gates thought about retaliating by stopping work on Office2005 for the Mac, but that's one of his better money-makers these days.

There has got to be a better way around this, Gates tells his staff in a handwritten memo (e-mail is no longer used at Microsoft for confidential communications).

"Pick your chin up off the floor, buddy," says Gates' long-time partner Steve Ballmer as he bounds into Gates' office. "I've got an idea that just might give us the win we're looking for.

"We've still got all the best Windows programmers on board here, right? None of them can afford to leave because their stock options won't buy a tent, let alone an early retirement dream house on Lake Washington. So let's corral that talent and sell a 'Microsoft approved' version of Windows," Ballmer says.

Gates rocks back and forth, back and forth. He hasn't done this since the government started to restrict how he can act on his anticompetitive impulses. It feels good.

"We can lock down the only stable version of Windows," Gates says. "We can control the interfaces. We can make it an industry standard. We can bundle it with our applications. We can convince consumers they need PCs that have our logo.

"History will repeat itself, only this time they won't catch us," Gates vows.