While the two programs tangled, Kazuma grabbed the briefcase, turned, and ran. The Paladin would fight long enough for him to disengage from the host, and its essence would return to the web-like whispers of the datasphere.
Weaving his way through the endless maze of corridors, Kazuma used his katana to cut away the lingering ghosts of previous security protocols, now too weak to be useful. While slicing and dicing, he considered his options. Before Big, Ugly, and Drooly had showed up, he’d planned to open the briefcase and gather only the information he found that referred to his sister and the name Caliban. He hadn’t counted on anyone else being here—much less wanting what looked like discarded files. But there wasn’t time for that now, so he decided to get the briefcase as far away as possible. It would be simple to compile a courier sprite and have it squirrel the briefcase away to a secure location in the Matrix, where he could retrieve it later.
Unfortunately—this host wasn’t connected to any grid.
No outside connections to the Matrix itself.
But there was a wireless signal nearby that allowed him access.
Boss!
Ponsu, Kazuma’s registered sprite, appeared beside him as a large, golden origami swan. She was his first sprite—a creature born and nurtured within the Matrix. She contained information from both himself and from the resonance streams that pulsed like rivers around him. She—and he called her a she because she spoke to him in a soft, feminine voice (not the voice he’d purposely given her either)—had been with him for more than two years, his constant companion in the Matrix.
Kazuma shoved the briefcase into her beak. The host itself wasn’t connected to the Matrix—but Kazuma was. He’d never tried it before—but it stood to reason that he could be the conduit between the two. “Get this away from here—just hide it safely in the Matrix somewhere. I’ll get it later.”
You want me to leave you alone? I can’t do that—have you noticed that big, ugly wolf back there?
“Yeah, that’s kinda why I’m running.” Kazuma glanced back, sensing the dissipation of the Paladin. It hadn’t lasted as long as he’d liked. The wolf might look generic, but its strength wasn’t.
He looked back at Ponsu. “Just get it out of here. I’ve got this guy mad enough to follow me.”
But the sprite was looking down the corridor behind them. Let me take care of the fool. I can—
“Ponsu! Please!”
She gave him a lingering look with iridescent eyes before vanishing.
“YOU GIVE ME THAT BACK, YOU ASSHOLE!” shouted the wolf as it charged into the hall.
Running along his escape route, Kazuma jumped out of VR and back into the disorienting world of reality. The wolf-hacker would have to leave by his own way in—most likely via a deck. Kazuma assumed they were close by. Physically close by. The wolf’s user had to be in the Annex and physically wired to the host in order to be inside—and they weren’t a technomancer. That much Kazuma knew.
Before attempting this harebrained idea, Kazuma had disabled the two other terminals in the building that had been daisy-chained to the host he needed. But somehow the jackass had managed to fix the sabotage. Should have made sure they couldn’t be fixed—but he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself in case another tech took a look.
Hindsight. Twenty-twenty. All that. Damn it.
Coming out of VR hot was always a bit of a disaster for Kazuma—re-orientation took a few minutes as he stumbled blindly from where he’d propped his body in an office chair. Compiling that paladin had cost him a bit, not to mention Ponsu’s escape to the Matrix. The dim room grew dimmer as he took his hand from the host’s outer shell and took several deep, stabilizing breaths. He needed to get himself and his gear out of the Annex before the idiot wolf-hacker tripped a security wire he hadn’t disabled.
The deck was still packed in the small bag, but he kept his commlink visible. His datajack was still prominently positioned on his temple, and he kept his hair pulled back to emphasize its presence. He wouldn’t let anyone—especially his employer—know he was a technomancer. Not exactly an advertisable skill nowadays. More like a curse that could get him killed, or vanished.
Like so many others.
He carried a Fairlight headset, the very first commlink he’d bought. But if anyone took a hard look at it, they’d find the thing was factory-modeled. Just like the deck. No upgrades. Not even an app for the most mundane tasks of being a KE tech. His partner, Silk, called his bluff all the time—hammered home that he needed to at least pay for the upgrades and have them visible.
“If you’re going to live the lie, then live it right,” was her constant advice.
But he didn’t need them. Which was a major plus when it came to expenses.
Kazuma had the commlink connection set in place on his wrist, but not turned on. He managed to stumble back into the chair in front of the desk when the door to the terminal room burst open.
He turned, genuinely startled, as an ork in a Horizon Security uniform came in, weapon drawn. Clearing his throat, he presented the guard with his best smile. “Sir—”
“Show me some I.D.!” the ork barked.
Kazuma nodded quickly, taking in the security officer’s yellowed tusks protruding up from his jaw over his upper lip. The ork’s jaw was built forward, allowing for the added weight and space for the powerful teeth. His small, pointed ears twitched, and Kazuma could smell his fear. Something was wrong within the building itself. And whatever that was had this security guard spooked.
Damn that wolf hacker!
Kazuma transmitted his SIN to the ork. The guard kept his weapon trained on Kazuma as the information popped up in his AR. Though Kazuma could see the virtual window in the guard’s PAN, he already knew what it would show.
Morimoto Toshi, Human, Knight Errant Supervisor, Birthplace: Chiba, Japan. The image would be that of an older human. Kazuma had used nano-paste to change his face and hid the arching points of his ears beneath a bushy gray wig.
The ork appeared to be satisfied and handed his wallet back. “Sorry, Mr. Morimoto, but the silent alarm got tripped—over on the south side of the building. We suspect there’s a hacker in the host. Luckily, this is an off-grid system. We’ve got people looking around the building for them.”
Damn it. The hacker had tripped the alarm. Baka. He nodded as he carefully made a show of unhooking his deck from the terminal. “That’s quite all right, sir. Are you here to escort an old man out of here for safety?”
The ork was about to answer when the door opened and a human dressed in the same uniform as the ork stepped inside. “Brigg,” the smaller man said with a narrowing glance at Kazuma. “Got anything?”
“No,” the ork named Brigg said. “This is Mr. Morimoto—he was here working on the security system for KE.” He leaned in close to give a hoarse but audible whisper. “I think he was in the system when the alarm got tripped. He doesn’t look so good.”
The human moved past Brigg and glared harder at what he perceived to be an elderly Asian man. “You need a CrashCart, old man?”
“No, no.” Kazuma shook his head. “It’s just—your friend is right. I wasn’t prepared for the tertiary failing of subsidiary drives, causing a cascading failure that—”
The human guard put up his hand. “I got it, I got it.”
Kazuma smiled inwardly. It was always better to baffle them with bullshit. The key was to know who and when to bullshit. Coming off as a tech-head security flunkie could be disarming enough.
“I am sorry to be so much trouble.” He smiled for real as he finished packing his gear into his bag and stood.
Ponsu was back, hovering just inside of Kazuma’s peripheral vision within his own AR. She gave him a nod to let him know the briefcase was hidden. Nothing to see here—and nothing to find in his deck or his commlink.
The human nodded at the terminal. “You finished? ’Cause we think the autodial’s already contacted your people’s security unit—that happens in a time li
ke this. You want to wait for them?”
No, he did not want to meet them at all. Fooling these two had been easy—but fooling a Knight Errant officer? Or worse, GOD, in case Ponsu had triggered the attention of the Grid Overwatch Division spiders. Kazuma wasn’t ready to test his skills at disguise just yet. “Yes—I would very much like to be here when they arrive. May I gather my things and meet them at the front—”
But as he spoke, the room fell into total darkness. Though the host itself wasn’t on the grid, the Annex’s security system was. Kazuma unconsciously tapped into the faint wireless signal, asking Ponsu to check on the blackout. Within seconds the swan appeared in a new AR window to his left.
Boss—all the power’s still on—otherwise the network wouldn’t be viable. The lights are still in operation.
He cursed under his breath. It was dark, but the power was still on. In theory, the lights were on as well—only none of them could see. That meant the blindness was magically induced. And there was no telling how far the range went, or if the hacker himself was immune. But Kazuma was sure the wolf-hacker was still in the building, waiting for him.
A single shot echoed outside the small room’s darkness. Kazuma didn’t need sight to know both guards had drawn their weapons.
“They’ve cut the power,” the ork said. There was a click. “Mullens, this is Brigg. We heard gunfire.”
Another pause, then static before, “Yeah, we’re in the dark here—you?”
“Yeah, us too. We’re in the center basement. Mr. Morimoto is here from KE doing work—we’re gonna try and find the shooter.”
“Copy. We’ll advance along the south ring. You go north.”
“Roger.”
Kazuma winced at the exchange. They’d used open communication—voice activated. Any hacker worth his cybereyes would have already had taps on bus to bus. Basically, they’d just given out their plan to the shooter. Unless it was code for something else. But he didn’t really believe that.
A small light appeared in the ork’s palm, illuminating the room in a greenish glow. Whether the ork knew he was countering magic with magic was uncertain—but it was enough. Kazuma could see their faces—prints in shadows and emerald. “That’s about as big as I can make it, Chief.”
“That’s good,” said Chief, the human. “Mr. Morimoto, I need you to stay here. This room has a steel door. Once Briggs and I step out, I want you to lock it and just stay calm. I’m sure the KE cops will be here in a few seconds. Can you do that?”
“So ka,” he said.
“Do you have a weapon?” Briggs asked.
“Ee-ae,” he lied. “I’ll be fine.”
Once the two were outside, Kazuma touched his watch. He could see the glow in the dark. The magic had only affected the environment, which meant it had vulnerabilities. Like the ork’s light and the illumination from an electronic device. Using the watch as a flashlight, he found a utility drawer, and in it a small, battery-powered light.
He pulled up a minimized window with a chewing gum-smacking blonde inside it.
Fire alarm? Kazuma moaned.
After surveying the area one more time to make sure he hadn’t left anything visible that could be traced back to him, Kazuma opened the door carefully, wincing when it made a click that resounded throughout the darkened corridor. Hooking his bag around his shoulder, he decided the flashlight would bring too much attention. Since the blackout was magic, then a camera should see just fine.
Mentally reaching out to the closest datasphere whisper, he opened the back door of the building’s security network—which he’d helped install, of course. A new window appeared in his AR—giving him a fully lit corridor on both sides. The angle was going to throw him off, since he would see himself coming down a hallway instead of what was directly in front of him. “Ponsu—you got the strategy?”
Right, Boss.
A grid of the building’s corridors, rooms, and exits appeared in a window to his left. He noted the flashing red dot telling him where he was. The basement. One level up to street side. There were three possible exits out of the Annex—but he didn’t see any vehicles nearby that might belong to the wolf-hacker. Unfortunately, he hadn’t made a contingency plan—never considered anyone else would want the information. Another fact Silk was going to yell at him for.
As he trotted toward the stairs, one of the cameras overhead detected a movement near the door to the basement. Kazuma assumed it wasn’t a security guard, but the wolf-hacker coming to look for him.
Retracing his escape route on the grid, he found another exit open upstairs—rarely used—on the opposite side of the building facing a one-way street. Boulevard Avenue, NE. It wasn’t a usual route for transports to follow, as half of the street on that side had caved in and was under construction. But then, most of this side of town was under construction. If he could get a ride there—
Ponsu rustled in front of him, visible in all the AR windows.
As Kazuma neared the stairs, he heard the telltale sound of boots descending. Moving as quickly as he could, given the constant fatigue pounding at the back of his eyes, he ducked behind the stairs, the spaces between the steps visible. Kazuma moved the AR windows aside except for the single camera that gave him a bird’s eye view of the staircase. He waited for the hacker to appear.
It didn’t take long. As the boots hit the appropriate steps he reached out, grabbed just above the ankles, and pulled with everything he had. The booted man yelled in surprise as he tumbled down the rest of the steps.
Kazuma bolted around him, using the basement cameras to watch himself sidestep the man as he scrambled to get back up. Taking the stairs two at a time, the technomancer reached the top just as the man below raised his pistol and fired.
Chapter Four
Outside the Horizon Archive Annex
Mackenzie Fenrir Schmetzer—Mack to his runners, and anyone else he chose to associate with—stood in the shadows of the warehouse across the street from the Annex building of Horizon’s Los Angeles offices. He’d boosted his cybereyes’ vision magnification up by x4, enough to see the tool marks on the Annex’s windowless wall. Traffic was nil this late at night, with the Annex located in a less than desirable area of the city—farthest away from the glitter and lights of the main thoroughfares, and smack in the center of construction. In fact, the entire place was scheduled for demolition.
Most of the street lights here were dark—busted by rocks and bullets long ago. City politicians felt it was a waste of resources to constantly replace them, only to have them knocked out at the next opportunity.
There was one bulb that burned bright enough close to where Mack stood. He liked the light—without light there couldn’t be shadow. And without shadow—there was no run.
And with no run—no nuyen.
Even in today’s economy, Mack was doing pretty good for himself. He owned two successful clubs in the Los Angeles area, a bar in Seattle, and a stash of private homes. Not much else was known about him, except for his ability to complete runs. Not always successfully, but he was fair. As long as the Johnson was fair.
And that wasn’t often.
Mack believed in honor among thieves. Or at least he believed in honoring the deal.
His Los Angeles runners had gone nearly a month with no good jobs until this one. And even this job seemed simple. So simple that Mack was monitoring it person
ally. He didn’t know why—he just had a feeling that something wasn’t right.
First off, why would a corp like Horizon have an Annex with active hosts that weren’t on the grid? And second, why would anyone store something important on one of them?
Mack considered the recent bad public opinion regarding Horizon, and thought it would be a brilliant place to hide things they didn’t want easily found. The security in the building impressed him, especially the fact they were employing Knight Errant when the PCC police was closer, and probably cheaper. But this fact also set off warning signs all over the place. Five guards for a three-story building that covered maybe an eighth of the block? Excessive was a thin word.
He knew whatever they were extracting off that host was important. Or volatile. And then—in hindsight—maybe this place was the best when it came to disguising something higher up on the food chain?
As he pondered that idea, he felt as well as heard the pop in his speaker—it was a sound he’d committed to memory decades ago in a former life. The sound of a gun being fired.
“Damn,” he muttered as he held up his hand, the rings on his fingers activating his AR. The building’s grid appeared, an electric wire-frame of the first and second floors, as well as his team’s markers. He only had two runners in the building—his hacker and his magic backup. Cole Blackwater was the best money could buy when it came to retrieving information of any kind. His programs and gear were bought out of Mack’s club Worldwide. Blackwater was a man on his game. He was good. Damn good.
And he had the ego to go with it. That was a flaw. And it was a fucking whopper.
Maria Venzuella was a shaman. One of her specialties was security dampening—which Mack had chosen to use on this run.
And it had appeared to be working—until someone got capped.
Mack narrowed his eyes at the markers—he could make out Blackwater’s pulsing red star near the center of the building. But Maria’s wasn’t there.
Shadowrun: Dark Resonance Page 2