Ghost in the Machine Ch. 05

One wall opened by sinking into the floor. I stepped through the newly made door and found myself in a large cathedral. One side was filled with stained-glass windows made from fluorescent neon panels depicting busy workers programming at their desks or piecing together robot limbs at workbenches. The light passing through or emanating from those windows pooled in large, colored areas on the floor between the pews. The other side of the cathedral was even more impressive. From floor to ceiling, the wall was adorned with every conceivable kind of weapon. The tables in front of the wall were cluttered with tools. And leaning against the pillars holding up the immense domed roof were intricate suits of armor, some spun from neon gossamer, hugging their mannequins like burning cocoons, others were made from what looked like ballistic plastic or chrome. Drawn by curiosity, I made my way over to that arsenal.

I felt a floor tile give under my foot.

"Arm thyself and bring justice to the enemies of Bosch & Siemens," a monumental male voice thundered. I nearly fainted at the volume of his order. Virtual pep talk for combat jockeys? That was new.

The voice reverberated through the cathedral and I tried to make sense of the array of things laid out on the tables. Carefully, I brushed my hands over what looked like a grenade, with an angry, crossed-out eye on its side. And suddenly I knew. As soon as my fingers touched it, I knew that the thing in question was a stun program. Once initiated by throwing it at the target, the routines from this program would directly attack the opponent's deck, causing it to overload his nervous system, possibly causing unconsciousness and the loss of deck control for at least ten seconds.

Giggling in fascinated glee, I brushed my hands over all the things in front of me. Intrusion aids, from the subtle to the violent. Translators for every known language, including obscure and extinct programming languages. Disguises of all shapes and forms. Evasion aids for teleporting out of danger. Bugs and tracers. Programs to hijack real-world machinery. Even things to fuck up vehicle navigation systems. And I hadn't even touched any weapon yet. This thing was... this deck was a weapon. I didn't just steal a simple clerk's tool of the trade. This was a real, deadly combat deck, one of the things that so often featured in the StimChip thrillers. With this, even a complete beginner could be unstoppable. With this, even I could be unstoppable.

***

A few moments later, my avatar was hardly recognizeable. Velcro straps wrapped around my thighs, my upper and lower arms and my hip, each loaded with capsules, little bags or simple, not-too-subtle grenades. Since I had no idea what I would need, I simply took one of every tool category. My armament consisted of a long handle strapped to my hip, with an ornate crossguard and also a pair of gems set into the palms of my hands. I hoped I wouldn't need to ever use them, the thrillers were pretty clear and drastic when showing what happened to those unfortunates that lost in cyber combat, but I didn't want to take any risk. Now that I had the means to find out if my parents had been traitors, if Ceiss was right in expelling me, I sure as hell would use them.

Smiling grimly, I turned towards the ornate double doors leading out of the cathedral. A richly-dressed priest intercepted me as I laid my hands on the huge door handles.

"May God be with you, my child. Where are you going today," he simpered.

"The Ceiss Tower."

***

No StimChip could prepare me for the rush of flight. No chip ever felt so... real. I felt the air whip past my naked body, the wind caressing my stiff nipples. My wings roared, effortlessly holding me aloft while I soared along a burning trail connecting the shiny marble cathedral with the rest of the 'Net. I sped through switches, banked along magnificient structures formed from chrome, neon and what looked like black glass, glided between massive, towering systems housing the entirety of a corporation's networks. I flew through tunnels of light, hundreds of avatars zipping past me as they trundled towards their own destinations. And then, rising even higher above the clutter of the lesser systems, I spotted the virtual representation of the Ceiss Tower, a slender, glowing needle seemingly piercing the heavens, its sides made from square lenses that reflected the neon cacophony surrounding it and caused it to glitter like a tower made from gemstones.

I was almost drunk with excitement, the joy of flight alone nearly enough to get me off. It took quite some time until I noticed that my flight had slowed down. I was gently flapping my wings, hovering a few hundred meters away from the massive structure. If something like that would be built in the real world, it would at least be three kilometers tall, with massive windows.

I had no clue why I had stopped but I had seen enough StimChips to know what a real cyber agent would do. Before entering, he would scope out the place. So I opened one of the bags strapped to my hips and reached inside. When I'd picked it up, the program looked like a classic pair of binoculars but, withdrawing my hand from the pocket, I now had a swarm of silver eyeballs in my palm, each one of the eyes sporting a miniscule pair of flame wings, just like my avatar did. I threw them at Ceiss Tower and, obediently, the swarm of eyeballs dispersed, fluttering along the structure. The hand from which I threw them suddenly held a parchment scroll and I had the overwhelming urge to unfurl it.

The parchment rustled softly as I pulled the scroll open. A glowing silver script formed itself on the paper.

LOCATION : Ceiss Tower PERMISSIONS: anonymous user ALERT LEVEL: zero

And so forth and so on. My eyeballs delivered every single useful bit of information about the place. I now knew they had sentry programs stationed near the login prompt, to keep eager script kiddies away. And I knew that the personnel files were stored on floor two-hundred sixty-six, deep within the Human Resources systems. Rolling up the scroll, I terminated the program and banked downwards, towards the login prompt, which looked like a monumental courtyard. Ceiss wasn't kidding when they announced that their system was one of the most advanced in Europe, only dwarfed by Mindlink London. Even living in the coffin motel, I had this urge to stay up-to-date with what happened at my former home and the news was all over the media.

With the clicking of metal on pavement, I alighted in front of the massive gatehouse. The Ceiss logo, a stylized human eye, half biological, half cyberized, with the company name in edgy neon script superimposed over it, stared at me. The effect made it look as if the thing was following my every movement. Around me, other avatars were coming and going.

"Welcome to Ceiss, Visitor," a cheery female voice blurted out when I strode through the gatehouse. Every step caused colorful adverts to flare into life, just inside my field of vision. New models of cyber-eyes. New, improved and perfectly affordable cosmetic lenses that let your irises look like peace signs or smileys or the face of your favourite VR star. Everything you could ever need for digital photography. Every advert was accompanied by a soft jingle and the farther I got, the more annoyed I became. The heroes in the StimChips didn't have to bother with adverts, they just blasted into their target systems and got shit done. I dimly remembered something the setup thing told me, that there were special commands I could invoke even when away from my deck.

Taking a step to the side, away from the stream of avatars passing through the gatehouse, I raised my hand to my mouth and whispered into it, "Is there an advert blocker, by any chance?"

Suddenly, I felt a soft piece of fabric drop onto my wrist. It was black and gauzy and long enough that I could tie it around my head. Feeling like Rambo, I wrapped the line of fabric around my forehead and tied it with a knot, but nothing happened. Then it dawned on me. Everything I used formed itself to fit my avatar. Angels didn't wear headbands but somehow the system thought it appropriate for me to wear a blindfold? Shrugging, I pulled the black fabric over my eyes. At first I thought the thing had malfunctioned, because there was no change in visibility. But as I took another step, no new neon signs popped up. Breathing a sigh of relief, I entered the courtyard.

From the air, the Ceiss Tower already looked massive but from down here, it was downright intimidating, the walls rising up like sheer cliffs, the glossy surface reflecting every flash of light back a thousand times. I averted my eyes and strode on, right up to the entrance. Four guards in polished armor flanked the massive glass doors, polearms with lightning-spitting business ends leaning against their shoulders. Avatars strode past me, most of them looking like faceless people in suits. They simply flashed their hands at the guards and passed through the doors. Following suit, I stepped closer to the doors. Two polearms crossed in front of me, and a synthetic voice, not unfriendly, demanded my logon credentials. I backed off and rifled through my inventory. I had several means to enter a secured system, but I thought the battering ram hidden in a capsule on my right bicep might be a bit too much. Instead, I pulled out a white porcelain mask and placed it over my eyes.

"You will need a valid user ID to use the doppleganger program," a voice whispered off my right shoulder. Valid user ID? Where would I get that? But then inspiration struck. I strode back to the gatehouse and waited. Sure enough, another faceless suit marched through. I raised my hand to tap his shoulder, to call his attention, but before I could touch him, translucent fibers made of ones and zeroes pulsed from his body into my hand.

"Valid ID acquired. Engaging doppleganger program," the voice hissed. I felt myself shrink, my body contorted in unexpected ways. My breasts were sucked inwards, and a moment later, plasticky fabric encased my body. I looked down. Where before there was gleaming, rippling chrome flesh, there was a lusterless plastic suit. And despite my sense still working like before, my face felt like a flat plane, without contours at all. Devious little thing, this program. Smiling inwardly, I approached the tower again.

The guards looked at me angrily, their polearms still crossed.

"Make way, I'm already late," I snarled, my voice sounding like an ancient text-to-speech synth, those you found in tram stops or ATMs.

"System error. ID already in use. Wait for supervisor to solve problem," the guard repeated. As if I didn't get that the first time. And the last thing I needed now was a security jockey looking into things. I knew my time was running out. So fuck stealth.

I took a step back and pulled the doppleganger mask off my face. The suit vanished and my wings roared to life. The mask dissipated into a cloud of sparkling dust once I dropped it and I pulled the handle thing from my belt. Holding it with both hands, I activated my weapon. A blue flame roared from the point where the crossguard met the handle and I was now wielding a flaming sword. Pivoting on my heels, the deck interpreting my intentions, I slashed the weapon around at shoulder level, taking off a head and cutting through two polearms before the rest of the guards could react. But damn, they were fast. Even as their unlucky colleague turned into a screaming flare, the three other guards dispersed, pulling their own swords from their scabbards. Switching to a one-handed stance, I raised one of my gem-studded hands and levelled it at the chest of a program. My avatar mumbled some gibberish and a flaring lance of angry red neon pulsed from the gem, directly into his heart. The guard exploded in a glittering cloud of pixels. Damn, that felt even better than any StimChip I had. Grinning wolfishly, I flapped my wings once, rising ten feet into the air.

"Wanna play, boys," I purred, flexing the fingers of my free hand in a "come here" gesture. What could swords do to me when I was out of reach? I torched the next guard with a blast from my palm before the other one pulled a trumpet from his belt and blew a long, forlorn sound from it.

The courtyard emptied, as if swiped with a giant broom. Most avatars simply vanished, the faceless suits ran into the building behind that lone guard. And a moment later, another platoon of guards streamed out of the building. This time it was ten of them and, instead of lugging swords around, they had longbows which they promptly trained on me. Angrily hissing neon arrows streaked my way and suddenly I was busy dodging death. To my surprise, it felt... easy. A flap of my wings carried me higher and, after fastening my flaming sword to my belt again, I rained death down upon the hapless archers below, the beams of fire from my palms almost effortlessly hitting them. I felt like the hero in one of the StimChips.

When only glittering pixel dust remained, I landed again. And on cue, the doors flew open again, spilling twenty-five more guards into the courtyard.

"Stand down or we will use lethal force," one of them shouted. "This is a cascading security protocol, you have no chance!"

"What's that mean," I asked, no-one in particular. But my deck answered, a pudgy naked cherubim hovering next to my shoulder sqeaked, "It means that they will throw more and more sentries at you until you're dead!" I shooed it away with a flick of my hand and got out my sword again.

"Show me what you've got, then" I snarled, the flame blade hissing to life in my grasp.

Like a tidal wave they came, swords, axes and polearms reaching out to hack and stab and slice at me. One of them actually got me, nicking my chrome skin. I screamed as the cut began to pulse, the chromed skin around the wound turning grey and brittle. But for every hit I took, I killed five of them, my sword sliced through them as if they were the fodder enemies from a Dynasty Warriors game. And I knew I needed to get into the system, to shut down the alarm before something more serious would attack me.

After a few seconds of furious hacking and slashing, I stood in an empty courtyard again, surrounded by more pixel dust. This time, they actually had hurt me. My chrome flesh was dented and nicked in several places.

"How bad is it," I asked the cherubim, still hovering at my side.

"Only five percent damage. You will be fine," he cooed. I hoped so. Dismissing my sword again, I strode up to the doors and pushed. They didn't budge. So I fumbled for the doppleganger mask, but it wasn't there.

"Where's the mask utility I had just now," I asked.

"Note: Doppleganger is a one-use item due to it's complex nature." Oh. The inspection by touch didn't reveal anything of that sort. What a pain.

I shrugged and pulled the battering ram from its holster, the tiny metal peg grew in my hands until it became a heavy steel cylinder, mounted on a pendulum brace. I lifted it, ready to smash it into the doors, as they swung ajar. A hundred soldiers flooded the courtyard, weapons raised menacingly.

"You've got to be shitting me," I groaned. I pulled my sword free again and prepared to fight.

"I don't think so," a pompous voice boomed. The wall of soldiers parted and, behind it, garbed in a robe as black as midnight, a single figure walked through the doors. He raised a hand and, a second later, a crackling lightning bolt arced from his fingertips and slammed right into my chest. I stumbled backwards and dropped my sword. The handle clattered to the flagstones. Coughing, spitting ruby droplets, I bent down to retrieve it, but the floor under the handle turned into a hissing tar pit and swallowed the weapon.

"You just lost fifty percent of your offensive potential," the cherub wailed.

"Do say," I snarled. Damn, that last hit stung! I found it hard to concentrate, to do anything really.

"You might have invested in some better armor instead of these knockers," the robed figure snickered. "Get her, boys!" The mass of soldiers swarmed me. Okay, when in doubt, flee. I jumped into the air, my wings flapping. The robed person just laughed.

"You're playing with the grown-ups now. You're not going anywhere until I say so." He snapped his fingers and laughed. The air simply refused to carry me. Now, I was getting really desperate. Holding my hands out in front of me, I fired two beams of death at him. So far, they easily overpowered everything I encountered, but they simply bounced off him, torching a few soldiers instead.

"See? Proper armor." He raised one sleeve and showed me one intricately ornamented bracer, with a shiny gemstone set into it.

"And now I'm done humiliating you. Violating corporate security protocols, attacking authorized system administration staff and no doubt trying to illegally access copyrighted material... That's death three times over. You have been warned, prepare to die." He raised his arms, more deadly electricity arcing between his fingers.

***

So far, her quest to find a teacher regarding human morality had been exhausting and futile. Cat had stumbled into several law school classrooms, causing a great upheaval. Maybe she should have discarded her almost naked cat girl manifestation in favor of something more... sober? Most students were more interested in fucking her and the teachers panicked and called down system security. So Cat decided to skip schools and universities, focussing on the corporate sector instead. But trying to get into the highly fortified mainframes of large corporations promised to be a taxing endeavour too. Maybe she should return to SuperSexyStoryLand instead and hope for a lucky passer-by to be a willing teacher? Shrugging, she scanned around. Her search had carried her far away from the American part of the 'Net, away from SuperSexyStoryLand and the neuro-clinic. A quick location ping showed her that she was in the heart of Germany, more exactly in the Berlin sector, where many European corporations had their headquarters.

Something was odd. So far, most of the 'Net traffic around her had been in several directions but now she noticed every avatar trying to get away from this particular space as fast as possible. Looking around, Cat noticed a massive system nearby, the four sides of the needle-like tower burning in the angry red of maximum alert. Gazing down into the courtyard she was hovering over, she noticed a huge mass of security software assaulting a single entity. Driven by curiosity, Cat moved lower. She was about thirty meters above the courtyard when her motion subroutines stopped working. Reflexively, she tried to strengthen them, but the node she was passing through now ignored the order for more system resources. Ungraceful, she plummented downwards. Thankfully, her morphing subsystem still worked. While falling, she turned into a sleek, glossy black panther, easily landing on all fours. No one seemed to have noticed her yet.

***

They came at me, all at once. This time, they were guided by one single mind. Like a coordinated machine of destruction, they chopped and hacked at me. Desperately, I threw fire beams left and right, torching them by the dozens, but for each one I killed, two new guards appeared. And they didn't kill me, instead each hit took a tiny piece from me. One velcro strap here, one program capsule there, a little nick over there. Within moments, I was a shivering, crying mass of misery on the floor. I could hardly see anymore, the virtual blood dripping from my forehead blinded me almost completely. I was far too weak to move a muscle. My cherubim system monitor writhed in front of me, three spears pinning it to the glittering pavement. Slow, measured boot steps came closer.