by Nyx Smith
"Yeah, we geeked the GSG," the members of White Octagon say. "We're gonna lay Nagato Combine to waste."
Why do they single out Nagato Combine? Many corps and other organizations include metas within their ranks. Machiko is answered only with hate, more venom, more terrorist babble, nothing that indicates a definite, rational motivation.
The few who appear to have knowledge regarding Gamma's whereabouts are not responsive to questioning. Machiko calls in Yoi-san, the mage sent by Colonel Satomi.
"These persons are under the compulsions of an initiate," Yoi-san says. "Once I have rested, I will remove the compulsions."
"How long must you rest?"
"Till morning."
This does not help.
Machiko comes at length to the most unassuming member of the group, a dark little man, a norm, with many cybernetic enhancements, nearly all of them beneath the skin. Nagato security techs do not succeed in disabling every possible weapon built into the man's body when his turn for questioning comes, so Machiko begins the interrogation with a kobun holding the muzzle of an Ares Alpha Combatgun to the man's head.
As Machiko formulates her first question, the man says, simply. "I'm S.A."
"Explain."
"You know Fuchi. You know S.A."
This is a highly unexpected development. Ryokai does not seem to recognize what the man is talking about. Machiko herself only knows of this because her "Older Brother" made a point of seeing that she was fully briefed.
Fuchi Industrial Electronics maintains at least two distinct security organizations: IntSec, responsible for facilities and personnel, and the Special Administration, which deals with every manner of covert operation. Machiko has never before encountered a self-confessed agent of the S.A. Indeed, few people are even aware of its existence. She glances at Ryokai. who signals that the man speaks in a truthful manner.
Then she says. "I am familiar with the Special Administration of Fuchi Industrial Electronics. You claim to be an agent of this agency?"
The man nods. "You don't wanna screw with me."
"We are already doing that," Machiko says. "How we proceed depends on your spirit. If you cooperate."
"I transmitted a burst signal by headware when your people busted in. My control knows exactly who you are and who you work for. There could be an assault party coming in here any sec."
"Quite true," Machiko says. "However, whether such a party would find you alive is an open issue."
The man glances toward the Ares gun pressed against the side of his head. "I'll grant you that."
"You are generous," Machiko says. "Now demonstrate that you are also wise. Identify yourself and your control."
"My operational handle is Scudder. That's all you get." Machiko says, "If we are to accept your claim regarding the Special Administration, we must confirm it."
"Operational protocols are proprietary. You should remember who you're dealing with. Last I heard, Nagato Corp is not on the top ten list of megacorps."
"The status of Nagato Corp is not your concern. Why does the Fuchi Special Administration have an agent inside the White Octagon?"
"To monitor extremist activity in the plex."
"Does the Special Administration consider this group a major threat?"
"That's a policy issue. I wouldn't know."
"What is so significant about White Octagon that the Special Administration would take an interest?"
"Reputed ties to the Alamos 20K."
"What form of ties?"
"Weapons. Cyber. Maybe you noticed that some of the group have cranial bombs. They got that from the K."
"Who is White Octagon's leader?"
"A slag called Gamma. A very bad dude."
"He is a mage?"
"I've heard it said. I haven't gotten close enough to tell."
"Where may he be found?"
"I been working on that. So far to no effect. Gamma's got a core cadre of razorfreaks that he keeps with him twenty-four hours. The shag-artists they sent against your GSG were part of that cadre. The rest, what you got here, are all second-tier stringers. They know what Gamma wants 'em to know."
"We have information indicating that certain members of White Octagon were formerly with Triad organizations."
"Wouldn't surprise me. Gamma collects his people from all over."
Machiko's commlink beeps. She takes the call in the corridor outside the room being used for interrogations. Arinori, the Chairman's personal aide, informs her, "The Chairman will be convening a meeting within the hour. He asks that you attend."
The notification is welcome. This so-called agent of the Fuchi Special Administration has provided much information, but Machiko is uncertain whether to believe his claims, and, if she believes, what to make of Fuchi involvement with White Octagon. She feels an urge to consult with a higher authority and the Chairman's meeting will provide the perfect opportunity. She leaves Ryokai and Gongoro to continue the questioning. A headman of Honjowara-sama kobun volunteers a car, and before long she is striding into the main lobby of Nagato Tower and riding the elevator to the Chairman's suite. She finds the meeting about to begin. Already present are Adachi-san of Nagato Intelligence, chief of security Bessho Chikayo and his deputy Colonel Satomi, and two of the Chairman's counselors, Zoge-san and Ohana Toyonari. They sit on cushions arranged in a semi-circle before the low dais that crosses the head of the room. Machiko goes to one knee on the only unoccupied cushion. Moments later, a side door opens and the Honjowara-sama enters, without escort.
All bow.
Honjowara-sama does not sit. He steps to the center of the dais, clad in a dark suit, and there pauses, hands behind his back. "Zoge," he says.
Zoge-san bows, then turns toward Machiko, and says, "We have received inquiries from certain of the corporations responsible for police services in the New York-New Jersey megaplex regarding recent activities by members of Nagato Combine, led by members of the Green Serpent Guard. I have also received personal inquiries from the office of the Mayor and various members of the city Corporate Advisory Board regarding recent raids conducted by members of Nagato Combine. These persons making inquiries expressed concern about certain incidents of violence. Certain of these incidents have been given broad treatment by the media."
The meaning of this is apparent. Machiko may possess the authority to deploy the Guard as she wishes, and the power to draw on other resources of Nagato Combine, but her actions are not without consequences. Her actions have sent ripples throughout the plex. Her actions have perhaps caused embarrassment both to the leadership of Nagato Combine and Nagato Combine itself.
She bows deeply. But before she can ask forgiveness, Honjowara-sama is saying, "Is it true that you entered the Red Pavilion and met with Lau Tsang?"
Again, Machiko bows deeply. "Yes, Chairman-sama. That is true."
"And you consulted with no one before undertaking this brash adventure?"
Machiko bows more deeply. "Yes, Chairman-sama. That is true."
For an instant, one corner of Honjowara-sama's mouth seems almost to flick upward in the manner of a smile. His expression immediately turns as hard and unyielding as granite. He taps a fan bearing the mon of Nagato Combine against his hand, and says, impatiently, "What could have motivated such an adventure? What was your intention?"
"To stab at the enemy's heart, Chairman-sama."
Some moments of quiet pass. But they are not tranquil moments. Honjowara-sama does not seem pleased by Machiko's reply. He gazes at her sternly, as if seeking the truth in her spirit. Machiko fears what he might find, that she might in some way fail to meet the measure of his vision. Then Zoge-san coughs politely. He and Honjowara-sama exchange looks, and Honjowara-sama nods. Zoge-san looks to Machiko, and says, "Do you mean that you intended to attack the leadership of the Large Circle League?"
Machiko bows, and says, "At the time, it seemed possible that the League was the enemy I sought, responsible for the bombing attack and the attacks on GSG. I went t
o the Red Pavilion with the idea of upsetting the leaders' timing, with the hope of confusing Lau Tsang into making some revealing admission."
"And what occurred?"
Machiko tells the tale, beginning with the discovery of Jank, a former Triad soldier, and ending with the interrogation of the White Octagon membership, and the man claiming to be an operative of the Fuchi Special Administration.
Ohara-san says, "A racially integrated corp like Fuchi has much to fear from fanatics associated with the Alamos 20K."
"Nagato Combine has much to lose," says Adachi-san, "if the Fuchi Special Administration is using White Octagon to further its covert objectives."
The idea is somewhat chilling. Nagato Combine is a large and powerful organization with influence that extends beyond the corporate world, yet Machiko can only wonder if Nagato Combine would survive any form of direct conflict with a giant on the scale of Fuchi Industrial Electronics. Several of the men before her seem at least briefly possessed of a similar concern.
Then Zoge-san politely coughs, and looks to Machiko. "What assurance have we that this man, Scudder, is in fact a Fuchi agent?"
Machiko bows, and says, "Ryokai-san monitored the man's aura throughout the interrogation and discerned no indication that he was lying. Beyond this, the matter has not been confirmed."
Zoge-san says, "Ryokai-san is skilled at reading auras."
"It is one of his foremost abilities," Machiko replies.
"Yet he is not a mage."
"No, he is not."
"And we have some indication that certain members of White Octagon have been mentally controlled by the group's leader, Gamma, who is a mage—perhaps an initiate mage. It may therefore be the case that this man Scudder has also been controlled, persuaded of the belief that he is a Fuchi agent."
"Toward what end?" Ohara-san asks.
"Perhaps to mislead us into regarding Fuchi as our enemy."
"What would this accomplish? We would not launch a direct reprisal at Fuchi. This would be suicide. Would not the most natural reaction be to simply eliminate this group, regardless of who may be giving them orders?"
"Fuchi is not the impregnable leviathan they desire to appear," says Adachi-san. "It would certainly be expected that we would eliminate White Octagon, once their plans are revealed. However, we do have other means of striking back at Fuchi. At any corp, regardless of size or influence."
Adachi-san does not elaborate. The entire group falls silent as Honjowara-sama begins tapping his fan against his open palm. His discontent shows clearly through the granite of his expression.
In a voice full of power, he says, "A group relying on the resources of an organization like the Alamos 20K must be considered allied with this pernicious evil that threatens the whole fabric of Sixth World society. Surely, we have all seen their heinous crimes. We know too well of what they are capable. It was their violence that incited the worldwide riots we know as the Night of Rage. Their violence killed hundreds here in New York alone, and left many thousands maimed and wounded. The destruction of Nagato Combine can be only their first objective. A symbolic first assault. We are a natural target because we judge all people by the quality of their character, rather than the character of their genes. It is the Way of Nagato Combine. It is integral to our existence. The existence of a group such as White Octagon is a direct challenge to our guiding principles. Therefore, we must do everything in our power to see that this campaign of iniquity is defeated. These racist fanatics must be eliminated. That is the only path to peace. The only manner in which we can guarantee the safety of our people."
Machiko bows. She is heartened to see that Honjowara-sama's will is unshaken, that he holds resolutely to the tenets of this New Way. His bold words impart in her a spirit so settled, so resolved, that even the prospect of war with a giant like Fuchi no longer has any power over her.
Politely, Zoge-san coughs. "We must of course ensure that our people and property are safe from terrorist attack. However, we are subject to UCAS law and may be held accountable. The wholesale elimination of any group may have repercussions."
"We could invite retaliation by other fanatics," says Bessho-san. "A direct assault by the Alamos 20K, for example."
Honjowara-sama slaps his fan against his open palm. "The possibility of retaliation by terrorists and other fanatics is of no significance!" he declares. "We will not be coerced like sheep into any action that violates our principles!" Bessho-san bows deeply.
Politely, Zoge-san says, "Nevertheless, we are subject to UCAS law. It is known that our forces have conducted raids and it may be known that we have taken certain persons into custody. We are being accorded a degree of latitude because the Chairman's benevolent principles are well-known and Nagato Combine's forces have always acted with great discipline in the past. There are, however, limits to what the legal authorities will tolerate. If we are seen as using gangster tactics, we will be forcefully condemned."
Adachi-san says, "It would be no great difficulty to convey our captives onto Nagato Corporation property and thus avoid any additional legal entanglements."
"This would be viewed as a mere evasion."
"But would be no less effective."
"The point is certainly open to debate."
"And if Fuchi supports the White Octagon?" says Ohana-san. "What then?"
Honjowara-sama looks to Machiko.
She bows. "When the sword will not cut, Chairman-sama, stab at the enemy's heart."
Honjowara-sama is not long in giving his reply.
25
The diamond-faceted exterior of their delta icon noses up against a system icon that has the trademarked look of a Fat Man's Face. Negative alert, says Rad238. Camo on, says SmoKe. Initializing entry prog, says Nodetioy.
May we take your virtual order? flash the Fat Man's eyes.
The Fat Man's iconic mouth yawns open wide and they slide into the node beyond with hardly a moment's delay. Their icon assumes the swept-wing form of Musca domestica, the common house fly, with diamond-faceted eyes. The blue-hued node before them takes the form of a Koppa Kaf food bar: animated service window shaped like the trade-marked Fat Man face, service counter winking and flashing with iconic dispensers, walls lined with vending machine icons from StufferSnacks, TacoRama, SoyBran, and Pizza-Mia. Hostile incoming, says Rad238. A brilliant blue counter clerk icon in the Koppa Kaf soy bean uniform comes leaping over the service counter waving a fly swatter. Evasive, says SmoKe. They spiral toward the ceiling of the node. Initializing combat progs, says NodeBoy. Dumbframes launch. A dozen buzzing house fly icons encircle the counter clerk's head and the clerk begins looping, spinning circles, swatting at its own face.
Easy as decking the UCAS regional grid, NodeBoy concludes. More to come, SmoKe warns.
Access point detected, says Rad238. Winking red arrows lead toward the Koppa Kaf service counter. Manuevering, says SmoKe. They spiral over the service counter, past the iconic slaves of bean-grinders, hash-friers, and soy-grillers to the pulsing blue soybean icon all the way in the rear. The soybean with its pulsing blue roots and gleaming touch-sensitive bean keys represents the host controlling the entire Koppa Kaf node.
Initializing entry prog, says NodeBoy.
The soybean spreads wide like stretchable blue goo into a dataline portal they slide through with hardly a pause.
Next stop: Splendiferous Food Distribution, Inc.
The run is already mapped. Splendiferousis easy Code Green and they ride a secured line into the cerebral cortex of the host. They pause at the center of a gigantic virtual warehouse where a thousand Chinese cook icons hurl blurring streams of databytes in the form of knives, cleavers, animal parts, bottles and cans and boxes across the length of the warehouse floor.
At 02:13:51:20:17:46, a green uniformed Rent-A-Cop icon steps onto the warehouse floor. "I am not recognizing your program icon," the Rent-A-Cop says. "Please to be identifying yourself with great alacrity."
Negative alert, says Rad238.
>
Sleazing, NodeBoy says.
Their icon resembles just another aproned Chinese cook. They lift one iconic hand to the Rent-A-Cop. They gesture. "We're not the cook you're looking for."
"You are not the cook for which I am presently looking," the Rent-A-Cop says.
"No need for a system alert."
"I am perceiving no require for an alert."
"Go about your business."
"You will be going about your business, please. As I also will be doing."
At 02:13:51:20:18:14, a port in the warehouse floor slides open and out steps a green-suited comptroller icon who begins interrogating the Chinese cooks for accounting data.
Maneuvering, says SmoKe.
They dive through the port. They join the river of data plunging through the dataline to the Code Orange host operated by Paragon Provisions International. They break through the Paragon virtual shell in the native Orange-5 host supporting the virtual machine and ride a datarush of transfers through TRW CredCorp's Red-7 mainframe to the black depths of their primary target.
Freese detected online, says Rad238. Are we ready?
Never readier, says SmoKe. Cloaking. Armor on.
Initializing combat progs, says NodeBoy.
The danger ahead is great, but freedom is worth the risk. And nuyen will buy it.
26
It's just past 2 a.m. when the optical workstation console in the touch-sensitive top of the gleaming onyx desk begins beeping. Gordon Ito turns in his high-backed chair from the broad window overlooking the Hudson to face the multiscreen display risen out of the desktop. He sips his Brazilian coffee and takes a drag from his Platinum Select. The display screens give him a view direct into the Fuchi telecommunications grid.
View number one shows a vast cavern formed by the gleaming black cliffs of a pair of immense datastores, soaring up infinitely high into the electron night. Between the two cliffs burn the cobalt blue beams of a trio of data-streams, each looking as hot as the interior of a sun. Bucky Freese and his team of deckers are already onscreen in flashing blue hard hats and blue-striped vests. They construct a temporary node around one of the datastreams using program icons like opaque black panels. They then step through the walls of the node and onto the verge of a virtual highway a thousand lanes wide and streaming in both direction with iconic sedans that blur with impossible speed, representing transfers between financial accounts.