After getting some actual coffee and a microwavable danish, Jason settles in to backtrack that trail before it gets cold. It leads to what appears to be one of the Face Reality internal servers - which would otherwise be perfectly anonymous on the net. The good news is that means it won't be as heavily secured against incoming traffic such as the thousands of rootnets combing for poorly secured installations to incorporate into their own - an evil that has yet to be eliminated despite the best effort of agencies like Randall's CERT. The bad news is that any incoming connection is much more obvious, so Jason obscures his connection through a relay, and makes his approach.
In cyberspace, this site appears at a distance to be a simple gray cube, but closer it's apparent that its surface is made up of thousands if not millions of tiny cubes shuttling around on invisible tracks, exposing what appear to be holes in its security, closing seconds later. Jason's seen this kind of setup before: it's a quantum probe. Each of those cubes can unleash an attack against a target computer: in parallel, a saturation attack that can break cryptographic defenses much more quickly.
While this makes the system tougher to attack, it's also much more vulnerable. It takes just a minute for Kimon's systems to analyze the movement of its two-layered defenses and then Jason threads the needle... He's in.
This appears to be the gateway computer for a small base. The internal system VR shapes itself around him into a moonlit meadow by a dark forest, a lake stretching before him, shapes moving in its surface. RIU hovers besides Jason as he explores, reading the underlying meaning behind the symbols. The trees are security systems it monitors; their fruits, video logs. The horses grazing contentedly seem to be unused cyberattack agents. The lake... Something moves within its bottomless depths. A vast, powerful entity, the nearness of which sends prickles up the back of Jason's neck. At the moment its attention is directed away, but if that changes, it would be a good idea to vacate this area. Could it be the agent that opens the rifts?
"/So ... ever have a desire to be a gardener, RIU? No, I don't suppose you have. I haven't either, which is why the garden is automated. Er, anyway, think we can plant a seed in their little Eden here? Something to alert us whenever they become active? I don't particularly like waiting around for the news media to report stuff,/" Jason asks RIU as he rubs his hands together thoughtfully. "/This isn't a simple job, we have to be careful in here..."
Balls of colored light float around slowly, some moving around to the trees where they absorb fruits, then disappear into the distance, archiving those security records.
"Lets see what we can get from those records too before they're archived..." Jason notes as he nudges RIU. "Time to do some log copying..."
The tiny Chinese dragon beeps! It eyes the lake dubiously. While it cannot speak, its gaze suggests that any 'seed' planted here will have to be carefully hidden, to avoid the gaze of the garden's master.
RIU darts through the trees, then settles on one. It noses at the fruit - a shiny candy-like red apple.
Jason glides over with RIU to take a closer look at the 'apple'. "/This has come interesting connotations,/" he admits as he leans in to watch the playback. "/The forbidden fruit. Knowledge."
Scene: a standard operations room, video monitors all over the walls, computer terminals, people in chairs jacked in staring into the distance. A large airlock-style door sits in the wall directly opposite the camera, painted with elaborate tribal-styled symbols around the sides. It reminds Jason of the Empire airlock he saw in the Avatars LLC basement, except these aren't Empire markings. To one side is a break room, distinguished by the refrigerator, counters with snacks, and microwave. To the other, a bathroom.
The airlock slides open, showing what looks like the inside of a typical Tower - it could be the very same Tower that Tracy lives in! And Sasha bursts in, a long-legged tanned woman in a sneaksuit that shimmers out from invisibility into a living obsidian mirror, her black hair flaring behind her. She slams the button on the side to close it again.
"Cut the line, abort the operation!" she yells. Her green eyes blaze as she glares at the people inside, looking for someone. "Find Mike, and bring him to me. John, Rob, Alice, jack out and don't try to leave, we have some serious debriefing to do!"
"Yes, he's in trouble. We could try to get him a message to run, but ... Great," Jason thinks as he rubs over his virtual face. "I tried to warn him. But, not really my problem, right?" The mental tone, though, hints that even with the claim it isn't his problem ... the guilt is there.
There's a large amount of bustling about, and then someone tries the bathroom door. "It's locked!"
Sasha frowns. She reaches inside the collar of her suit, brings out a tiny adaptive metal lockpick, but just as she inserts it... The door swings inward, drawing her off balance, and then a frightened looking Mike jabs a taser into her neck!
He launches a bottle into the room only a second later, having evidently prepared it with a mix of cleaning chemicals, filling it with a noxious green vapor, and then rushes through, punches the airlock door open, and steps through.
Alice, a tough-looking black woman, dashes for the door, one hand held to her nose and mouth, but it hisses shut in her face... And then a disturbing electrical crackle issues from the other side. "He's fried the lock!" She coughs.
John, a tough-looking bald-headed man, yells, "Base! Air flow, max! Clear this stuff out!" Robert goes to tend to Sasha, who is convulsing, but slowly recovers.
The fans whir at maximum strength, clearing the gases out slowly.
"Hah! Okay, I like Mike. Go kid!" Jason thinks as he now watches this play out intently. "If he actually makes it out, we'll have to find him..."
After some yelling and recrimination between her teammates, Alice sets to work on the airlock. She pops open a side panel and starts on the wiring... And then the power goes out. The camera keeps working on battery, but the lights in the room go dim and red, the previously omnipresent hum of machinery dies away to eerie silence. Alice curses, "Frotz! Another blackout!"
It takes another ten or twenty seconds, but the lights flicker back on. A yellow LED blinks over the circuits that Alice is hotwiring, and then goes to green. "Finally!" She punches the airlock button... Which opens onto a storage room, full of crates.
Sasha sits up groggily. "That... That colossal waste of oxygen," she says. "I gave him a chance, and this is how he repays me? He's dead."
Her gaze settles upon the airlock, and then she smiles grimly. "Oh, this will be fun."
The video log ends at that point.
RIU sniffs at the air warily, perched on the branch.
"And Moonlight goes hunting. RIU, send a message back to Kimon, have her search for power surges and blackouts being reported in any buildings up in the city. It may help us find where this is ... and where to go to try and save him," Jason instructs RIU. He quickly looks for any other nearby fruits that may be interesting.
Unlike normal fruit trees, this one has both flowers and fruits at the same time. As Jason's gaze passes over the flowers, he gets an impression of camera views around the base - an armory, a barrack, the parking lot outside the building - something's weird about this, it doesn't look like North Bend. For one thing, it's early morning here, but the sky outside is night, with streetlights illuminating the aircars.
Jason hmms. He reaches over and tilts the flower slightly to see if he can get the camera to move. Perhaps a building sign, name, address, anything, might come into view.
Kimon's voice acknowledges Jason's search query, another input to his neural implant. He can hear Kimon but others can't: no recent power blackouts in North Bend.
Manipulating the live feed gives Jason enough information to figure out where it's coming from. Palmdale, California.
"Figures. You're on your own, Mike, until I can figure out where you are. Sorry," Jason thinks rather grimly. He blinks when he gets the location. "Kimon, access Palmdale and look for blackouts," he instructs.
Kimon's voice responds, "Working. Eleven recent news report concern blackouts and brownouts due to unexpectedly high demand in power over the recent months. Most recent was dated approximately 15 minutes ago. Sunflower Power Co. indicates they are working to bring another solar power receptor grid online, and expect to have reduced or eliminated the problem by January 15th. Consumers have filed three class action suits on behalf of those who have suffered due to power outages."
"Isolate consumer that is causing the high demand," Jason instructs. "Great, someone is running a quantum core."
"Accessing. Data inconsistencies identified." Jason diverts his attention to inspecting the power consumption grid data directly. To any normal observer, it would seem like any one of several high power consumers were using more power - manufactories, waste reclamation plants, or megacorporate quantum cores. But all these consumers share feeds that also go to the same general area - a warehouse district on the edge of Palmdale. Tying that in with satellite imagery and the aircars in the parking lot gives him an address.
The audit trails for the data alterations seem odd to Jason. Seamless, no trail... He's seen this before - it's the kind of work an Artificial Deity can do. Which would match the vibe he's getting off of the entity in the lake.
"I smell your blood, Sasha," Jason thinks as an evil smile crawls across his lips. "Kimon, set up an anonymous relay link to the authorities in Palmdale, both local and federal. Time to send a little message: 'Building at the identified address reports a bomb threat called into them ten minutes ago by known fugitive Sasha Knightley. Suspicious package identified in storage airlock. Please help! We need to evacuate immediately and quarantine the building.'" Now, if this somehow manages to make it ... it just might buy Mike time.
The computer-kitsune acknowledges the request. "In progress."
Another flower catches Jason's attention. It's a feed of the operations room, and Sasha is giving orders.
Jason's eyes flick to the feed. "Okay, now what are you up to, Sasha?" he wonders.
"Hecate! Change our security codes immediately, and track it if he tries to use them! Alice, John, Rob, get back in and track that mutt down. When you find him, let me know and I'll deal with him... Personally." Sasha yells. She reaches down and strokes behind Moonlight's chin, a larger-than-life panther. Moonlight purrs throatily.
The entity in the lake stirs. The rippling water now becomes rapid trembling, and light gathers into its depths.
"/That your AI, Sasha? Hecate?" Jason wonders. He looks back to the lake, then to RIU. "/Our welcome is at an end. Time to go before we're spotted! She'll eventually figure out who raiend on her little party ... but I want a little more time. Time to dissociate!/"
A womanly figure begins to rise from the lake. Where moonlight strikes her form, she is liquid light; elsewhere, she is starry shadows, rippling like the water she is shaped from. Her gaze sweeps across the garden...
But by then, Jason is gone.
With an undignified squeak, Jason's chair goes upright as he returns to the 'waking world'. He grabs a piece of paper and a pen and starts scribbling down notes. "Randall needs this address. I need to locate air movement sensors for my suit, perhaps the old airfield junkyard. Some planes had them. Crap, I also need to warn Inari. Sasha is near where she is ... and if she's active, Inari may be a target," he mutters. "Of all the women I should have thrown out of the aircar or ship, it should have been that bitch, Sasha. I'm too soft-hearted," he complains. "Anyway, we need to contact Randall immediately. He has more authority than I do in these matters. And I hope that fake report works and buys Mike time. Idiot kid. I'm surrounded by them."
It's been barely moments since the terrorists shot up this part of the Arcadia Towers. Outside, emergency medical technicians are still seeing to the wounded civilians, their loud voices only faint whispers through the door. The ornately collared Cadena, wearing his kevlar combat harness (done up in blue with Avatars LLC's insignia in gold so it has the semblance of a dog uniform), stands at Tracy's side.
A police officer, an Andrew McKenzie, comes by the door to take Tracy's statement. "From your view, ma'am, what was the first you knew of this altercation?"
"My dog heard screaming," Tracy explains, hoping it doesn't sound crazy.
"The dog-- oh right! You did good work out there, but you really shouldn't endanger yourself like that," the police officer admonishes the white dog. He looks rather worse for wear himself, his bulletproof vest badly damaged - but it did its job, protecting him from worse injury.
Andrew encourages Tracy to go on. "After that, what did you do?"
"Uh, bolted the door, and called security," Tracy recalls. "The lines were busy. Cadena has guard dog training - and apparently emergency rescue too - so I helped him into his K-9 vest and let him out.. and followed a little ways to see that nothing happened. I brought my taser, just in case.."
"A good idea, though I would advise against direct confrontation with armed terrorists with just a taser, ma'am. It'd have been safer to stay locked in." Mr McKenzie's PDA shows a red recording light. "Do you have any reason to believe the terrorists might have been after you or someone else in this vicinity?"
Tracy had to really think about that. "No," she concludes. "They didn't try to get into any of the apartments, and just seemed intent on causing mayhem."
"Very well, then. So, what did you see after you let your dog out to, uh, render assistance as best as he could?" Andrew tries to keep a neutral face.
"Well.. they were a bunch of characters out of the Gloaming game," Tracy admits. "Two werewolves, a ranger with a rifle and a dog, a mage and four thugs with automatic machine pistols."
"A game with which you've had experience? They called themselves 'Wild Hunt'," asks the police officer. "I never play those games, myself, I'm into wargaming, so if you have any insights to share..."
"Yeah, that's the name of one of the factions in the game," Tracy explains. "They.. they just like to hunt other players, usually luring them out by attacking an important location in the game."
Mr. McKenzie nods, tapping a finger to his chin. "All right. So as I understand it, your dog immediately charged to engage them - I'll want to get your statement later," he says to Cadena. "But I'm more interested right now in what the young lady has to say about what she saw. What happened next?"
"They kept claiming that people weren't real, and acting like it was the game," Tracy notes. "I tried to distract them or shock them out of the delusion, but.. ah.. I wasn't very effective. The magic user managed to throw a fireball," she notes, and points to the blast area, "and I think was able to talk one of the werewolves into realizing what was going on, but I didn't see how it ended. I went back inside."
The police officer nods. "Very good, thank you, miss." He asks a few more probing questions, then suggests. "I'd advise that you avoid trying to distract anyone with a gun, young lady, the last thing you want is for them to reflexively shoot you - at least unless you're wearing a bulletproof vest, and even then, it hurts a lot." He grimaces, then turns to Cadena. "All right, let's take your statement. What're you named?"
Tracy fades back into the apartment, heading back to the workstation to see if the call to Randall had gone through or not. North Bend News is still playing in a video frame on the wall, but she's not too interested in it right now.
Wouldn't you know it, Randall's hold program is mariachi music accompanied by movies of Spanish dancers in flamboyant tuxedos (for the men) and acres of red and orange blouses and skirts (for the women). At least there's no sombrero being danced around.
The news program headlines, "The UNE has signed off on legislation authorizing the Zeus Weather Administration Program to begin operations worldwide." Inset in a video frame is one of the 'ion radiator pylons' that they are installing in thousands of locations around the world. These are apparently both sensors and ion emitters that can subtly guide airflow, butterfly-causing-storm style, or more aptly, preventing catastrophic storms and giving far advanced notice of inclement weather. "A board of 21 directors from various nations and industries have been appointed to plan out weather changes for the forthcoming year."
Tracy frowns at the hold message, and actually checks the time display. Maybe Randall is still in the shower or something?
"In local news," the announcer says, cutting to footage of a red-orange streak of light lifting from a dark slum area to impact on a giant four-engined transport helicopter. "An Eagle Security transport was shot down by a surface to air missile in the Dregs. It appears to have been launched by one of these Road Warriors, modified to carry rocket launchers. The transport was then robbed by one of the local gangs, Mav's Mavericks, who looted an estimated N$1,500,000 in armaments intended for delivery to its storefront in New York City. The gang members executed all but one of the survivors of their assault; the lone survivor managed to hide in a wheel well during their looting."
"Dregs," Tracy mutters, which makes her remember that Jason was awake! He called her after all, and seemed to know what was going on.. somehow. So she opens a new phone window and dials Reality Check.
"Accept call, but only if multi-level encryption is available," Jason remarks to his phone-system on his desk, "And make sure it is rerouted six times as well. We're under red-alert with what is going on, after all." The latter part causes him pause. "Time to check the desk lamp bulb, I guess. I wonder if I have any red ones left..."
The announcer continues as a second videophone session opens in a red-bordered window, "Avatars LLC and Arcadia Investments concluded their lawsuit today, as Ms. Penny Arcadia settled for an undisclosed amount of money and the handoff of all simulation data relevant to Arcadia Investments..." Jason's face appears before Tracy.
"Jason! Is that you or Kimon simulating you?" Tracy asks. "I think I found the staging area in The Gloaming. I found the Ranger's entry from Old London to New Metropolis.. I think. There where dog tracks.." she babbles.
The first videophone session blips from mariachi music to a shot of a Hispanic-descent man naked except for a towel around his waist, dripping water from his hair and mustache. "Hola, senorita! Que pasa?"
"Ack, Randall!" Tracy says. "Now I know how Jason felt.. Anyway, there's been a Fracture thing! Characters from The Gloaming game attacked my floor in the towers.."
"What?" Randall punches keys. "Madre de Dios! What happened?"
"Their base of operations is in Palmdale, where they are running a quantum core with an AI called Hecate is operating," Jason remarks as he rests his elbow on his desk and chin in his palm, somehow managing to look bored. "I have the address and I know who is behind it, and the names of the principle actors."
Randall tilts his head sideways. "Is that Jason I hear? Put us in conference mode!"
"Werewolves! And guy that could cast magic," Tracy says, conferencing the calls. "Palmdale? Did you hear that, Randall?"
"Randall? Have you been moonlighting as a sex-phone operator? I thought the pizza delivery guy was the common young woman fantasy," Jason remarks when he pops up on a joint-session ... and spots Randall in nothing but a towel.
Randall laughs. "No, I just got out of the shower, and I saw my computer ringing its head off. All right, I'm a little lost here. The last I'd heard, you were looking into some terrorist group named Face Reality. Now, suddenly, we are talking about werewolves and a mage attacking Arcadia Towers. What's the scoop?"
"That kid Mike was one of the werewolves," Tracy says. "I got him to disconnect to check and see that what was happening was real, but.. I don't know what happened after that. I logged into The Gloaming to try and track down where they had their portal."
Jason's image eyes Tracy for a moment. "Face Reality is a bigger problem than their pranks let on. One of their principle actors is an old 'friend', Randall. Sasha Knightley and her little pet, Moonbeam; I'm sure you remember them. She was acting as a reporter this morning when Tracy's tower was attacked. I identified her ... and isolated one of their servers. They're running a quantum core, Randall ... with an AI called Hecate. Theyr location is in Palmdale, Califorina. I'm sending the address now. That kid, Mike, is in serious danger. I've tried to complicate their attempts to locate him ... but I don't know if it worked or not."
"S-Sasha?" Tracy sputters. "She was here?"
"Filming you in all your glory," Jason deadpans.
"Sasha? Great Zork," Randall says. He receives the data, then starts pulling on a shirt, going off screen mercifully to change into underwer and pants. His voice comes from off camera, "Think it's just luck they hit the area where you live, Tracy?"
Tracy's face goes pale. "What do you mean.. filming?" she asks nervously. "I.." she starts to say, then gets derailed slightly by Randall. "Penny Arcadia just got all the simulation data related to Arcadia Investments from Avatars LLC this morning. That probably included the tower, so.. if she's really tied in with Face Reality, they could have used that to make a synecdoche right? Isn't that how it works?"
"Maybe, but more specifically... Your mother lives in those Towers too, doesn't she?" asks Randall's voice off camera. Sounds of zippers zipping, buttons buttoning.
"Yeah, but in a different spire," Tracy says. "This one is just little studios, mainly students at the NYU Virtual Extension school. Why would Sasha go after me?"
"I mean she had a camera-bot filming the whole mess as a 'news program' showing the dangers of virtual reality addiction," Jason says. "I over-rode it and shut down the feed, but it took some time. I also tried to distract her and get her to focus on me. That is ... if she figures out who it was. If there is to be a firefight, better down here. Less collateral damage."
"Feed?" Tracy asks, her voice going squeaky. "Feed to where? Who else saw it?"
"Likely a lot of people, but I couldn't give you specifies. I was more worried about people getting killed," Jason notes.
Randall comes back on screen, uniformed (but it shows he dressed in a rush). "I'm guessing here, but what if she wanted to use you as a hostage, Tracy? It's either that or her aim was off... But I don't feel comfy assuming that."
"What.. what happened to them?" Tracy asks. "Did they all go back through the portal?"
"Happened to who? The attackers? they disconnected and are now trying to find and kill Mike. Specifically people named: John, Alice, and Rob," Jason says and shrugs. "I could send you physical descriptions of each if you want, Randall."
The news program takes that moment to cover the 'breaking news' of a shootout in the Arcadia Towers. A camera bot pans around the scene, showing bullet holes, and a wounded civilian being helped onto a stretcher for medical evacuation. Smouldering black goo sizzles on the ground where the terrorists used to be. "Have we just witnessed a field test of some new threat?," the reporter theorizes. "Or is this what happens to people who 'do too much VR'? We now go to the website of Face Reality, which claims to have footage of the incident as it happened..."
Tracy turns slowly to watch the news report behind her.
Randall nods, scanning an invisible sidebar - presumably his work email. "That'd be a help. Though it looks like we're going to get into a jurisdiction fight with the FBI - still claiming they own anything that happens in the good ol' U S of A." He pauses. "Who's this Mike guy anyway?
There's Alexandra Regis, black-haired, long legged and tan in her mirrorsuit. Or rather, there's Sasha. More perfect in her beauty than ever, as if she's had some kind of cosmetic surgery. "...and I'm here to bring you yet another example of how virtual reality games have corrupted our minds," she says. "These people have become so addicted to the game they play that they are playing it - in real life, with real people at hazard!"
With Tracy apparently distracted, Jason addresses Randall. "I know you think I'm paranoid, but I believe this is going to get a lot uglier. We need to make sure everyone from the first incident is warned. Will you handle notifying Akiko, or should I? I'll try to notify Inari, but well, no promises on getting through her security." He pauses, then explains, "Mike is the hacker kid I told you about earlier, the one who answered that ad I sent you. He's disrupted their operations on that end when he realized what is going on. He even tazered Sasha, if you can believe it. He's now on the run in their complex. I tied to 'sub' in a bomb threat warning to the police and FBI in that area to give his pursuers other issues to deal with and buy him time ... but I have no idea if it worked."
Subconsciously, Tracy growls at the image on the screen.
Scenes of carnage, a shootout with the police. There's Cadena, dashing bravely through it all to attack their leader. And there, there's Tracy herself. "NO NUDITY FILTER!" Seconds later, network black censor bars appear over her chest. The camera bot swivels back to Yappy, who gleefully wolf-whistles. Alexandra comments sardonically, "It's Mardi Gras! This kind of thinking might work in a video game, but this is real life. Don't let VR cloud your thinking, sheeple!" Cut back to terrorists continuing to shoot away at the police.
"Why couldn't they blur out my face!" Tracy whines. "You don't think Sasha knows who I am, right?"
"I wouldn't count on that," Jason notes.
Randall frowns and taps away. "Looks like... Yes, they're moving units in. They're just now getting to the door, bomb teams are in place. You should give Akiko a call, Jason, I think I'd better get over there and make sure Tracy gets out of there safely. Better to play it safe."
"Sasha's on the opposite coast," Tracy says. "If they're using simulation data from Arcadia.. then we need to know what areas that covers."
Jason rubs his face. "Sasha knows one of us has unmasked her. We can all handle ourselves pretty well. I'm sorry if she goes after you, Randall ... but better us than the public. I'm going to be gearing up down here in case they assault my office next. I can probably hold out a while, but," he says. "Send me Akiko's number and I'll warn her. That is if she'll even talk to me."
The CERT officer taps a button and the view shrinks, then jags around wildly to a view of the (messy) apartment where he lives, as he transfers the call to his PDA. He hurries toward the door, then down the hall to the elevator. "Here, sending," he says as he runs.
"Got it. Be careful, Randall! You had better take Mara," Jason calls into the phone. "All of us needs to move to secure surroundings."
From the front door, the police officer seems to be winding up his interview with Cadena. "All right then, thank you very much," he says. He calls into the apartment, "If I have any further questions, I'll send you a note, miss!"
Randall nods. "You stay safe too!"
"Yes, thank you officer," Tracy calls back, before she disappears into her walk-in closet. She tosses out two duffel bags, and some essential, simple outfits. "Cadena, start packing your stuff back up!" she calls out. "We're moving!"
"So ... Filter Girl," Jason remarks, now apparently addressing Tracy while she packs. "You had better pick up this suit. I don't like the idea of it being out of my control ... but I like the idea of you lying in a pool of blood even less. I mean, you gave up the goth scene, right? So ... pools of blood are right out. Besides, if you die, you can't attempt the challenge and that would really annoy me."
Wearing a black jumpsuit and a straight black wig when she emerges, Tracy retrieves the taser from the workstation and puts into the holster stuck to the small of her back. "It was never about the blood, it was about the bleakness. I picked up some engineered filet mignon yesterday too, so if you let me hole up with you I'll make you that dinner you wanted. And you can keep an eye on me that way. Please don't make me stay locked up in Avatars HQ with my parents?"
"On one condition. Will you accept my challenge?" Jason asks. He hasn't even said what it is yet.
"Yes," Tracy says with a sigh. "You owe me a challenge anyway. Go ahead and tell me what it is - I really can't sink lower than I am right now."
"It's something you've shown to have a serious problem with ... and it is extremely simple," Jason remarks, his left eyebrow arching slightly. "Two words: Trust me," he says. On the screen he can be seen to lean forward and press something. The call ends.
"Sneaky," Tracy mutters, then goes about packing.