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Shadowrun: Steel Rain Part 25

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All such registries must be checked and verified. Machiko informs Maeda-san of the need, and then says, "Can you tell me who attempted to add this Roadmaster vehicle to the transport division registry?"

"I believe that I can, Machiko-san. Fortunately, I have had the entire network on alert since you came to my office. I have now initiated a Level Chi alert. In effect, Machiko-san, I have shut down the network, prohibiting traffic in and out of the network, as well as between the various systems of the network."

Maeda-san goes on to explain that the violation originated from within the Nagato network, and that the violation was detected and traced because every node on the network, in effect the entire network, was being monitored in ways both subtle and overt for any illicit activity.

The source Maeda-san identifies as responsible for the violation is as unsettling as it is chilling.

"Are you certain of this?"



"The chance that we are wrong is very, very slight," Maeda-san says. "Given the extent of the network alert, the resources we committed to monitoring network activity, I would say that the chance of an error is negligible."

Machiko sees no point in continuing the discussion.

She places a priority call via commlink to Chairman Honjowara. Before the connection is made, she gives instructions as to the disposition of the detainees, including Gamma, and the decker Neona-san, and summons an SDF helo to the rear of the building. The helo is carrying her swiftly up through the ground-haze and into the night when Honjowara-sama's image appears on the small screen on her left vambrace.

"I believe that I have identified the traitors," Machiko says. "I am moving now to place them . . . place them under restraint."

Honjowara-sama listens to the entirety of her explanation. She cannot yet say whether or not Gamma was the power behind all that has happened. For the moment, it is enough that the mage has been stopped and the traitors to Nagato Corp identified.

"Your discussion with Sas.h.i.+-"

For the first and only time in her life, Machiko interrupts the Chairman of Nagato Combine, shaking her head, and saying, saying sharply, "Please! Please excuse me ... "

She can say nothing more. The affront she commits with just four words twists as savagely at her insides as all that Honjowara-sama recalls to her mind. She has interrupted, she feels too chagrined to continue speaking. She has learned too much from Sas.h.i.+-san, too much of an intensely personal and intimate nature, too much that conflicts with her most basic a.s.sumptions, to consider such things now, now in the face of this man who is said to be her genetic father.

"Machiko," says Honjowara-sama, in a tone that seems unusually subdued, "you have my full authority to proceed. The senior executives will be advised to expect you."

She nods. "Understood, Chairman-sama."

And he, not she, breaks the link.

For this, here and now, Machiko feels only grat.i.tude and relief.

38.

The Neurocomp building is low and broad, just three stories tall, located in the nearby Nagato Commercial Park, just a few hundred meters from the Amida Buddhist Temple where the funeral rites for Mitsuharu and Jiksumi were performed. That the investigation into the cause for those two deaths should bring her so near the temple affects Machiko with a cruel sense of irony.

There is much about the last five days that affect her in this way. It is not a sense she finds pleasing.

The SDF helo settles onto the aeropad near the rear entrance to the Neurocomp building. Machiko disembarks and strides up the concrete walk to the entrance. There she meets just two executives, the deputy VP for research and the director for the special GCP project. They are accompanied by two guards, uniformed members of the Nagato Security Service.

All four bow as Machiko approaches. The depth of their bows indicates clearly that the Chairman's words have preceded her here. "I must speak with the computer specialists of the GCP special project," Machiko says.

The deputy VP bows, but the director for the GCP project looks uncertainly at Machiko, and says, "Do you mean the specialists who are themselves the subjects of the project?"

"I will begin with them, yes."

No further questions are asked. The deputy VP shows Machiko the way to the GCP project center. The trip takes several minutes, for they must pa.s.s through a pair of security checkpoints requiring retina scans, voice print, and palm print verification. Also, Machiko is issued a temporary ident.i.ty card. Any person moving beyond the entranceway without such a card would instigate an immediate security alert.

Machiko's weapons add to the delay at the checkpoints, instigating a pair of automated alerts, which are then canceled by the onsite Security Service guards. Weapon pods in the ceiling and along certain stretches of hallway snap open and immediately snap shut.

They come to a room with several rows of computer consoles. Beside the consoles is a wall of windows that look down onto the floor of the GCP project laboratory. The lab itself, to Machiko's eyes, appears like a tangled ma.s.s of electronic equipment, tended by several individuals swathed in white clothing that leaves only their eyes uncovered. All that really stands out are the three vats or "tanks" located at the center of the lab floor. Each tank is filled with a hazy blue fluid. Within each sea of blue hangs a vague form like a human, possibly norms, motionless.

"Those are the three subjects of the experiment," the deputy VP informs, with a brief gesture toward the tanks.

"Voluntary subjects?" Machiko asks.

The deputy VP reacts as if startled. "Most definitely," he says at once. "There were more than a dozen volunteers, Machiko-san. Each underwent a lengthy evaluation process."

Machiko nods understanding. "How may I communicate with them?"

The deputy VP directs her attention to the large display screen that nearly fills the wall at the head of the room. At the touch of a console key, the screen divides into three virtual windows. Momentarily, an image appears in each window, images of three faces, norm faces, two males and one female. All are depicted in pulsing neochromatic colors.

Beneath each window appears a word, names apparently: Rad238, NodeBoy, SmoKe. Machiko supposes that these must be the informal appellations commonly adopted by eccentric deckers.

"Conference link on," says Rad238. "GSG member present."

"Quite an honor," says SmoKe.

"What's the occasion?" asks NodeBoy. "Excuse us if we don't bow."

Apparently, the communication link provides the deckers with a visual as well as audio feed. Machiko takes a moment to consider her words, then says, "I am here to ask why you have violated your oath to Nagato Corporation."

"Odd question," says SmoKe.

"Who says we're in violation?" asks NodeBoy.

Machiko says, "An attempt was just made to insert false information into the Nagato transport division vehicle registry. This attempt was traced to you."

Rad238 says, "Voice stress a.n.a.lysis indicates you think you're telling the truth. Is your truth founded on verifiable facts?"

Machiko is surprised by the suggestion that the deckers are able to a.n.a.lyze her voice, but she considers Rad238's question, and says, "Your manner is presumptuous and rude. I would not ask the question I have asked unless I possessed compelling reasons. Please provide me with the courtesy of an answer."

"Don't freak on us," says SmoKe.

"We won't deny it," says NodeBoy. "Sure, we violated network protocol. Do you know why we did that?"

Machiko can hardly believe what she is hearing, that such an admission would be made so casually. It makes the reason for the violation of network protocol seem all the more incredible. "You were attempting to expedite the entry onto Nagato Corp property of a Roadmaster cargo vehicle carrying a supply of toxic materials."

"You're a wiz banger," says SmoKe.

"What else have you figured out?" asks NodeBoy.

"That you have provided Gamma, a known terrorist, and his White Octagon, a terrorist group, with plans and specifications for a number of Nagato facilities, including the Chrysanthemum Palace Hotel. That you have promoted a plan with the goal of acquiring Nagato Corp debt."

Rad238 says, "Voice stress a.n.a.lysis indicates you're speculating."

"Good guesses, though," says NodeBoy. "You're right on. We're the ones. And in fact we've just achieved our goals.

We acquired the last major Nagato Corp creditor as of nine thirty-five local time. You're about an hour too late."

A strangled grunt emerges from the mouth of the deputy VP. Machiko glances aside and sees the man gazing wide-eyed and white-faced at the display screen. The GPC project director appears no less incredulous. Machiko can well understand their reactions. Though she struggles to retain a settled spirit, she begins to feel a bit like the two uniformed Security Service guards, who look nothing if not impotent and also rather confused.

One point about all this puzzles her. Money. Nuyen. Credit. Honjowara-sama himself remarked that no corporation can function without credit. And even she is aware of that one basic reality of the Sixth World, that it is a world ruled by corporate behemoths, a world where even modest corps such as Nagato possess resources measured in the billions, if not the trillions of nuyen. Not even Honjowara-sama, in so far as Machiko is aware, possesses wealth on the scale that would be necessary to purchase all of Nagato Corp's outstanding debt.

And so . . .

"Tell me," Machiko says. "Where do persons such as yourselves, computer specialists, confined for many months inside isolation tanks, acquire the resources to purchase a corporation's entire debt?"

"We've got our methods," says SmoKe.

"Would such methods include theft?"

"That's a possibility," NodeBoy says. "Fortunately, your little telezine war with Fuchi kicked down the prices a little, so we didn't need as much juice as we originally expected." Machiko considers that briefly, then shakes her head. She is straying from the point. She must keep focused. "Then you admit to having committed acts of treason against Nagato Corporation."

SmoKe says, "Treason? That's your law."

"Look out those windows," says NodeBoy. "Look at those vats on the lab floor. That's all that's left of us. All that's left of our meat bodies. We're never coming out. Maybe no one told you. The magic that made us a gamo-cerebroprocessor also induced advanced hyper-atrophy. Applied metabiology is all that's keeping us alive. Pull us out of those tanks and we're so much dust."

Could this be so? Machiko looks to the deputy VP. The man tugs at the collar of his s.h.i.+rt and licks at his lips, looking like one on the verge of fainting.

In answer to Machiko's questioning eyes, he nods once, and also bows. But it is the project director who says, "An unfortunate and wholly unforeseen consequence of the metaphysics involved, Machiko-sama. We are making every attempt to identify the specific causal factor of the hyper-atrophy. In fact, it has been the primary objective of the project for the last several months. Once the cause is identified, we will endeavor to reverse the process."

SmoKe says, "We're not waiting for some Nagato suit to decide to scrag the project and shuffle our tanks and the rest of our lives into a corner somewhere. Nagato is squat. We're loyal to the corporation of us. We're making our own laws. We're taking control from our side of the jack, the land of Matrix."

"Now the fun really begins," says NodeBoy.

And suddenly understanding dawns. Things have not gone well for the deckers of the GCP project. Machiko experiences a rush of pity like she has rarely known, pity settling into a sea of outrage and disgust. "Do you admit to a.s.sisting Gamma in staging the attack on the Chrysanthemum Palace hotel?"

"Sure," says NodeBoy. "That's where we gave Fuchi a new van. You think they'd at least thank us."

Machiko struggles to keep her voice calm, saying, "More than one hundred people died in the panic following that attack."

"A little blood must fall into every revolution."

"The blood of innocent persons?"

"Wrong place, wrong time. It happens."

"Time to open negotiations," says SmoKe. "Here's how it works. You can carry this to your Chairman. We've got enough Nagato debt to make chop suey out of your corp, but we just want Neurocomp and a few other choice bits. In exchange for complete stringless control, we give you back your debt."

"Get it?" says NodeBoy. "Neurocomp owns our employment contracts, omae, but now we own Neurocomp. So, in effect, we end up owning ourselves. We own ourselves free and clear."

"Thus we are free to control our own destiny," says Rad238.

Machiko grapples with what they are saying, struggles for understanding. It is nearly beyond comprehension. To kill and wound hundreds of people merely to achieve their own selfish aims? To slaughter innocent persons, persons not even aware of these deckers' existence, merely as a means of escaping their corporate contracts? of effecting a change in their personal status? It goes beyond heinous, beyond abomination. It is evil. As pure and terrible an evil as Machiko has ever encountered.

"You are murderers," she says. "And you are traitors. And your savage plans end here." She turns to the deputy VP. "You will immediately sever all connections between these traitors and the Nagato computer network. You will take every step necessary to ensure that they are in effect placed under security detention and thus can commit no more acts of malefaction."

The deputy VP bows, saying, "At once, Machiko-san."

"I don't think so," says SmoKe.

39.

The digital face of Gordon Ito's platinum Patek Nautilus watch reads 10:11 p.m. when he hears the multi-screen display of his broad onyx desktop quietly beep. He doesn't think much of it until he looks at the primary screen. Then he knows something's wrong.

"How did you like our demonstration?" a voice asks.

It's not a human voice, human or metahuman. Some kind of computer simulation: a composite of several voices, maybe. Full of clas.h.i.+ng harmonics. On the screen is a Ja.n.u.s-like icon: a head with three distinct faces. Faces like game-simulation deckers, formed of flaming, pulsating colors, with slashcut hair and mirrorshades and the inevitable data-jacks. Gordon takes a drag of his Platinum Select and considers the hardwired telltales beneath the vidscreen's lower edge. The telltales indicate that the display's audio/visual pickups are on, so whoever's on his screen can both see him and hear him. The display isn't supposed to work like this. The pickups should not be on unless he physically taps the keys on the optical workstation console displayed on the touch-sensitive top of his desk.

Gordon draws one hand back to his hip, c.o.c.ks his fist on his hip, and presses the onyx head of a ring into his hip. Two seconds later the door beyond the front of his desk snaps open and three members of his exec protect detail look in, weapons drawn.

They see Gordon taking another drag from the cigarette, then leaning an elbow on the arm of his chair and lifting one hand, one finger, to his upper lip. A contemplative pose as well as a prearranged signal meaning "intruder." Gordon keeps his eyes fixed on the display screen. The chief of the detail follows his gaze.

"Who am I talking to?" Gordon says. "You're not coming through like a standard telecom call."

The chief of the detail signals, Understood. He steps back outside, presumably to get someone working on a trace. "This isn't a standard call, omae says the voice, the voice of the Ja.n.u.s-like face. "We're the ghost in your grid. The ghost with sticky fingers."

That gets Gordon's attention. "You're coming to me through the Matrix?"

"It's not the first time."

Gordon extends a hand to the optical keyboard on the touch-sensitive top of his desk. No comment from the Ja.n.u.s-head on the vidscreen. He taps a key to launch a sequence of trace and killer IC, particularly vicious progs that don't appear in the Fuchi catalogs. They should show results in just seconds. Several seconds pa.s.s and nothing appears to change.

"We've disabled your keyboard," the Ja.n.u.s-face says. Gordon sits back in his chair, takes another drag. "You're very hot deckers," he says. "You've arrogated my desktop. I'm waiting for the explanation."

"Glad to oblige," says the Ja.n.u.s-face.

A second window appears on the display. In it, a member of Nagato Combine's Green Serpent Guard stands facing Gordon from in front of a room full of high-tech consoles. Gordon recognizes the Serpent at once, It's Machiko-san.

She says, "I am here to ask why you have violated your oath to Nagato Corporation. Why you have made the attempt to insert false information into the Nagato transport division vehicle registry. Why you have provided a known terrorist group with plans and specifications for a number of Nagato facilities, including the Chrysanthemum Palace Hotel. Why you have promoted a plan with the goal of acquiring Nagato Corp debt."

Interesting. This is either a replay or a simulation based on recorded speech and images of the woman. Does it accurately reflect an actual event? Good question. Gordon wants more data before making a decision. "Why show me this?"

"To give a clue where we're coming from," says the Ja.n.u.s-face. "Or aren't you interested in what we've been doing with your cred?"

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