by Aies Jay
-Shit.
I wonder how much evidence there’s left to have at this point when I realize I’ve hooked up without even thinking consciously of it. I was just going to check the time and date, but instead of looking for a clock in the room or something, I went ahead and checked in my head. In my Domain, there’s a tuft of seaweed moving in the current, and the numbers of day and time glimmer in the light from it, beautifully. I return to the hardware world by switching to the IRL channel. As I slowly get out of the top bunk, finding the calico cat “asleep” next to me and give it a pat before I leave it fully. The fur of him is soft like brushed silk. He purrs and licks his chops.
-You talk in your sleep, good sir.
he says. I quit the bed and move about the guest room, trying to find my jumpsuit again. When I do, I see the reason I couldn’t at first was because it’s gone, replaced by the clothes I came in with, that are now cleaned and pressed. I put them on, touching the fabric on top of my chest. It hurts to move about, the stiches from my surgery don’t take kindly to me tugging at them.
-Where’s the President?
I ask the cat, swallowing down my meds with water I find in the mini fridge by the bed.
-In his Gate room, I believe, arranging the Tournament.
-What do you know?
His eyes glance at me and he gives me a kitty grin before saying in a charming enigmatic voice.
-Human, I know eeeverything.
-Huh. How will of it this end, then?
He blinks once and says
-In blood.
Even I knew that.
I limp my ass out of the guest room and go to the little café kitchen again. The chef is cooking something bright red in a large pot, and smiles at me as I come in.
-Had a good sleep?
-Um, yes, I suppose… do you have a small mirror? I need to check the stiches in the back of my neck.
-I’ll get Kawaii-chan. She has the full nurse program.
-Could I have some breakfast, too?
-But of course! What would you like?
My eyes spot something on the counter and I almost manage a smile.
-Waffles.
-Coming up. What do you want on them?
-Surprise me.
Kawaii-chan tutted over my state, took my temperature with an ear gouging machine, checked my eyes and redressed my wounds after cleaning them. I’ve been more than checked for my stiches, to say the least. I put my shirt back on and thank her, still, even if that wound cleaner stung pretty bad. Maybe it’s a good thing I can feel it, anyway.
-Could you, um, send a copy of your assessment of my state to a guy? He’s the doc that fixed me.
I say and she nods vigorously. As I give her the address she lights up like a Christmas tree.
-I knew I recognized his work in you. Best bioware there is to be had! He’s my father, you know.
-What?!
-Oh! I mean, he made a lot of me. The H10s are his design.
My mouth is hanging wide open. Is she a full on bioware H model? That’s as close to making a synthetic human being as you get. I shake my head. Not all of her, no, it’s just not possible. Or is it? What am I at this point?
-I thought he was just a cyber doc, not an engineer… but he did say…
She grins proudly.
-My daddy can do anything.
-Your waffles are ready.
the chef says from the doorway and Kawaii-chan hops off. I stand gawking a while more and then the smell of waffles, mushroom stew, ham and cheese sauce hit me and my stomach tells me that talking is over. I leave this brand new beautiful mystery behind for now, promising myself to solve it should there be one more tomorrow than I’m hoping for.
The waffles go down beautifully, chased by hot chocolate again, and I’m almost done when the President comes in. He nods at me, asking for hot chocolate as well, and sits down.
-I usually have tea at this hour but I’ve been up since last we spoke. I need the sugar.
I chuckle.
-Hey, I’m a hacker, too, albeit an old one. I know just by looking at you.
He raises an eyebrow at me.
-You’re not old. You’re one of the ancients now.
I almost wince at the compliment, coming from him it means more than it ever did. Being called good by the President? Am I that good? He hasn’t even seen me hack but he did scan me, I know that. How much has Kawaii-chan told him of my implants? I decide not to ask. He continues in my silence.
-The Tournament starts in ten hours. No time to waste. The Community got all up in their trousers, of course, but this is the Tournament that will go down in history.
-How many have signed up?
-Eleven. It’s only been open for signing on for an hour, but I guess the menace of Death is still scary to some.
I thought it was a lot but he seems to think it’s puny.
-So, what’s the plan?
He looks at me, sipping his cup full of loveliness.
-Same as I first lined out, a few adjustments made. We will be in the old Santana Cinematrix. You know the place? Thought so. We will have extra medical staff on. I’ll be arbiter, shielding and black icing anyone coming at us, plus fire walling. This will get nasty. I’ve already checked the System for the info you’ve given and it’s barely visible. I’ve lined out what we want, and the Tournament will be for retrieval and replanting maximum amount of info of this crime committed… I’ll line it up properly when we get there.
-I got some ideas.
-Good, write them down and give me later. We have ten hours. I’ll need to be at the Santana in seven. I’m going to sleep, shower and dress for the occasion. You’re my guest, do as you please. If you need anything, tell the girls.
-Can I ask you something?
-You can always ask.
-What’s your name?
No smile touches his young face.
-”My world is my own”.
His answer reminds me of Nicla. The one ally I have left in this mess, except perhaps for the doc. The doc isn’t my sworn comrade in arms, though. He fixed me and hopped me up, for free as far as I know, but probably also to see what would happen to me. I’m starting to suspect what got him robbed of his licence. Playing Frankenstein was never popular within the science communities. Nicla… once more it occurs to me that life would be less complicated if I fell in love with her, but I still haven’t. Her loyalty remains.
-Hey, can I invite my friend here? She’s my partner in crime, sort of, she was at The System when Kawaii-chan picked me up. She saved my ass.
-You mean Nicla?
I don’t remember how much I’ve told him about her but he nods.
-Sure. I’ll send an H5 to pick her up, just to be sure. Mail her so she’ll know he’s coming. No calls, just to be safe.
-I’m all about safety.
-I doubt that.
-As well you should.
When he’s left the room after being given a hot pocket wrapped in sandwich paper I’m told by him
-Do not wake me up unless there’s a crisis. I mean that.
-I’m not an idiot.
I reply but he’s already gone.
wait
I had no idea of what else to do so I returned to the lobby, anime room or what the hell to call it, the room that the elevators opened up into, to wait for Nicla. I sit down in the sofa and my eyes land on the huge screen, now showing an anime about a boy that can turn into a cat on a regular high school, trying to survive being a teenager, a noble quest if I ever heard of one. I’m not tired. Or I imagine I’m not, but the couch is soft and my stomach’s full and the anime has no sound on. All I hear is the soft droning of the machinery in the household. It’s a lot. I close my eyes and start distinguishing them, one from another. The H models, the screens, the different Gates, the dispensers, the radiator systems…
-Hey.
Her soft hand on my cheek wakes me up from a white, dreamless sleep. Nicla’s face is again without any makeup. I ge
t up on an elbow, seeing the huge nightmare of an H5 security robot that escorted her here. Man, they’re ugly.
-Hey. Sorry about the heavy cavalry pickup. I just wanted you to be safe.
She shakes her head.
-It’s fine. Seizer shat a brick, though.
-That’s where you were?
-Check-up. After my surgery.
-A check-up that soon?
I ask, rubbing my eyes.
-I have a history.
-Don’t we all.
-Are you going to keep being cute or are you going to tell me where we are?
-Oh. Um, welcome to the White House.
She smiles and pokes me.
-I’m not an idiot, Jer. I know where I am, apart from the place being just a bit obvious you mailed me, remember? I meant where we are in the plan.
My stomach makes an angry grumble and I’m reminded I have full hospitality here.
-Hey, do you want something to eat? The chef here is a goddess, I tell you.
-I can eat.
After the best cheeseburger I’ve had in my entire life, sweet potato fries, tea and meds, I told Nicla where we are and what’s going to happen in the plan. She’s eaten her yakiniku slowly, asking very little questions, sipping her green tea. As I finish the story and the burger she concludes
-This will end in tears.
I shake my head.
-It already has if we stop now. How was your food?
-Delicious. Jer, is there no other way?
-No. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, Nicla. I have. But as it is now, my name is so slandered my word weighs exactly nothing. And who knows how much info they’ve erased? These are people of means. Luna people. Corporate people. We’re shit, Nicla. If the Universe is to believe us, we have to whack up everything they buried and then some. I can’t do that alone, no way.
-Black ice, the kind these kids will be facing… you know how dangerous it is. They’ll have to hack big company systems, and their type of security doesn’t play around.
-I know. This is an informed operation, they will all know the risks of it. Most hackers see themselves as soldiers of fortune one way or another anyway. I know I did.
-You don’t still?
-No.
-What do you consider yourself to be?
I poke at a smidgeon of sauce left on the plate before answering.
-Empty. A has-been. Shit.
She takes my hand across the table and squeezes it until I meet her gaze.
-Jeremy Star. I’ve met doctors, substance abusers, hookers, plain-Janes, murderers, kids, quite a few hackers, babies, parents of all kinds, pimps, chefs, space samurai, cowboys, corporates and thugs. I know shit when I see it. You are not shit.
-Then what am I? I risk the lives of kids for revenge, Nicla.
-You are a man who’s been pushed over the edge. And who doesn’t want to see any more babies murdered for profit, if you want a noble cause. I’m not saying it’s not wrong. I’m saying it’s already gone too far and will go even further before it goes right.
I let go of her hand and thank the chef for the food as she clears the plates off the table.
-Nicla, you’re just confusing me now. What are you telling me?
She sighs too.
-Nothing more than what I first said. This will end in tears.
-And I told you, it already has.
-Nothing has ended yet. But it will.
-Damn straight.
We sit quietly for a minute when she suddenly says
-How about the grand tour of the place? Or as much as you can show me.
I look at the time. Five hours to go. Man, I really did fall asleep.
-This way, then.
I show her the four rooms I’ve been to myself, the ball pit room, the cinema lobby, the gaming room and the guest room I’ve been given. In there she pokes a few things and then says
-I haven’t slept in a bunkbed since I lived with my aunt.
-This is my first.
-Think it will hold for the both of us?
I look at it to make an assessment. As I turn back to say yes, I meet her lips. Her arms curl around me in the softest of hugs and a sudden, urgent need for human contact and comfort in any form I can get makes me hug her back tight, kissing her as much as she’ll let me.
Turns out, the bunkbed held very well for the both of us.
havoc
We woke up from a knock on the door after a tiny few minutes of sleep. We got ready with few words between us as Kawaii-chan fed us sandwiches and coffee and it was less than twenty minutes until we walked out into the lobby. The President was waiting for us, his two H5 security models like evil robots by his side. He was dressed in a slick outfit that reminded me of something between a diving suit and an astronaut’s gear, light grey with odd coloured stripes here and there. His hair was spiked and he was already wearing dark VR goggles. The look on his face reminded me of Teeth the first time I saw him. We never spoke a word, just followed him into the elevator and flew off to the Tournament in silence. If I ever had a doubt about if he understood how serious this was, it was all gone by then.
As we enter through the top left side exit door to the old Santana Cinematrix Theatre, it looks exactly like I remember it. Who knows how many Tournaments have been held here? I know I participated in all of mine here except one that took place in what seemed to be a huge, very dirty cellar that smelled of garbage and I’m grateful we’re not there today. The venue is an old cinema, one big freaking hall with room enough for 500 people once upon a time. The huge movie screen is displaying all the screens and displays on the active Gates of the hackers in here. The motley crowd of moving, restless participants are sitting in the same armchairs as the first customers of the cinema did back when it opened but with every other row removed to make room for the long desks where the hackers have set up their Gates, drinks and food as well as a few luck tokens. There were five more minor screening rooms connected to this place once upon a time, but they’ve all been converted to legitimate businesses, but the big hall is still reserved for the clandestine Tournaments of the hackers that technically rule S2 and also serves as the President’s personal playroom for his crew on bigger private LAN parties, though that last one is just a guess of mine. The walls are dark red, the ceiling a matte tilework of movie scenes from old classics. Popcorn machines, candy vendors and coolers stocked with caffeine packed sodas as well as luxurious coffee makers are lined up along the back wall. There’s even a small portable hole in the wall restaurant, three wagons carrying noodles, hot pockets and pastries. The no-drip ice cream cones are already sold out, according to the sign. Ten H8 nurses stand ready along the walls, making the President good to his word. From our bird’s eye view from the balcony, we see almost all of it but we start to descend the stairs immediately, no time for reminiscing or admiring the view. The balcony is for spectators only, girlfriends, boyfriends, buddies and those who didn’t want to participate but still watch the thing. Tonight, that balcony is empty.
-No visitors?
I ask. The President shakes his head.
-If this goes south, it’s better that way. I’m fairly sure of victory but if there’s one thing my time as President has taught me, it’s to stay as low as possible on the collateral.
We follow him downstairs and people holler at him as they see him, a few get up and applaud. Boys and girls of all shapes and sizes greet their President, happy to see him. I make a rough count of 200 people, lowest participation count I ever saw or heard of. But for better or for worse, for life or death, they’re here, all of them hackers, all of them under the age of twenty-one. He waves at them and his two H5s make no mistake of the admiration but one of them does catch the little fluffy, stuffed unicorn thrown at him and scans it first before handing it over to him. He puts us on reserved seats on the front row, me to the farthest left to the edge with Nicla next to me and then immediately continues up to the front of the room to the little podium set up
in front of the screen. The whistling and clapping doesn’t seem to cease until a huge timer preparing to count down from fifteen minutes lights up the movie screen behind him, replacing the live-feed from all the minor screens. He holds up his hands.
-My fellow hackers. Welcome to the Tournament.
Hollers and shouts are brief and he’s permitted to continue undisturbed.
-This year, as you are informed, is different. This year we have a cause. When the counter behind me hits 0, you will receive a file on your Gate screens. Your mission is to find the hidden and deleted information on the System on the case, and restore the info plus spread it on. You will be scored on bytes info restored, spread and level of culpability. You will understand these terms when you have read the info. The duration of the Tournament this year is impossible to call at this point. The arbiters will blow the whistle on this, so go hard but pace yourselves if possible, just a tip. The people who have done their utmost to bury this are fatal foes. We may hit black ice. You may get killed. We may taste their revenge when we unhook. Anyone not ready to hit the ethereal, leave before the counter hits zero. You will not be disregarded in any way for this. Me and my usual suspects, Mister Gator, L30nard and FlyffyP1nk will be arbiters, with a special guest arbiter who will remain nameless as requested. Lionfish over there is our spearhead. His score will not count as he as well as those mentioned won’t be participating. Nor will I. The winner will be set on a one on one against me in a final heat, so to speak, so I’m still defending my title this year, in a contest of the winner’s own choice. This will take place exactly twenty-four hours after the Tournament has been closed and you all have spectator tickets for the event waiting for you. Hackers, the counter will start ticking in five seconds. Go about your business.
Behind us, hackers are running to the bathrooms, buying sweets and food, hooking up, cracking their knuckles and talking briefly to each other. A scarce few are packing up to leave, looking stone faced or disappointed. In the middle of the front row, I see the three hackers the President referred to as his usual suspects. I can only assume that Gator is the kid with the crocodile skin tattoo all over but as for the other two, there’s no telling which is which, though I imagine it’s not the goth boy who’s called FlyffyP1nk. The girl with the blue hair doesn’t have a speck of pink of her either, though. I open a Jackhammer I snagged on the way, check the time to see if it’s time for meds yet, suddenly noticing that Nicla is sitting between Gator and me, hooking up.