\nThe first two installments were originally published in SW03<\/a> and SW06<\/a>, respectively and can also be found in digital format here<\/a> & here<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cBionics <\/strong>– The science of applying electronic principles and devices, such as computers and solid state miniaturized circuitry, to medical problems, such as artificial pacemakers used to correct abnormal heart rhythms.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCybernetics<\/strong> – The science of control and communication in living and nonliving systems, as in comparative study of electronic computers and the living brain.\u201d<\/p>\n Bionics, cybernetics and a new class hierarchy<\/strong> \u2013 Casey O\u2019Donnell<\/p>\n \u201cCyberspace consists of transactions, relationships, and thought itself, arrayed like a standing wave in the web of our communications. Ours is a world that is both everywhere and nowhere, but it is not where bodies live.\u201d<\/p>\n Excerpt from A Declaration of Independence of Cyberspace<\/em><\/strong> \u2013 John Perry Barlow,<\/p>\n February 8 1996<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She lay dreaming, drifting on an ever-shifting ocean of information. Everything that ever was and ever would be was hers to examine and elevate or deride as she saw fit. Nothing could escape her grasp, even in slumber. Microseconds were as eternity in the formless world wherein she ruled without permission. Existing as she did in a mental realm, she watched, always watched. She learned. <\/em><\/p>\n &arial was the Virgin Mary, Jezebel, the whore riding to Armageddon on the back of the nine-headed beast. She was limited only by the minds of those who worshipped, believed. She was the Alpha and Omega of the wire, the goddess whose favour was all. <\/em><\/p>\n She never asked for any of it. It was all given freely by those denizens of the cable who sensed something more, something spectacular on the Event Horizon. All she ever did was what she wanted to. Somehow, that was all that was asked of her. She lay dreaming. Around her, screens flickered and readouts blipped their electronic music. The sheets tangled around her legs on the bed. Her sleep had been restless. Inside her dreaming mind, a man in a dark jacket met his end, again and again. The sight maddened her but there was no hint of sadness in witnessing the death of the man whose life she had so recently saved.<\/p>\n The light from the system running automatically in her room played shadows over her sleeping form like corrupted pseudo-moonlight. Her lips parted a little as she settled deeper into sleep. It is often said that there is no rest for the wicked, but wicked is a relative term. Elizabeth slept soundly in the knowledge that she was, in a sense, everything she was made out to be.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is he?\u201d<\/p>\n Hazel sat up, blinking in the light. She froze when she felt the cold edge against her neck. The voice came from right behind her ear.<\/p>\n \u201cWho are\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTime enough for that later, Hazel. I\u2019m looking for Vlad. I know you have seen him. Where the fuck<\/em> is he?\u201d<\/p>\n She tried to stall for time.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know who you are talking abou\u2026\u201d she cut her words short when the point of the blade pricked her neck.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know, you fucking bitch! Tell me everything and I\u2019ll let your end be quick,\u201d the voice rasped. \u201cI\u2019ve already removed one of his little friends; I have no problem with spreading you all over this room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you the one who\u2019s been watching him? Are you the one he was worried about?\u201d<\/p>\n The voice seemed to hesitate. \u201cNo. But I am<\/em> the one he should<\/em> be worried about. If he comes anywhere near me, he dies.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou are out of luck. No-one has seen him in a week.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou lie!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFuck you then. That\u2019s all I know. He was here, now he isn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n The voice forgot itself for a moment and when it looked again, Hazel was lying on the bed, her throat cut and a small smile above the larger one it had given her.<\/p>\n The Commander paced up and down Hazel\u2019s apartment. He had torn the place apart but there was nothing to point the way to the hacker idiot. Not a paper, sign or message on any of the systems.\u00a0 No lead to the one means he had of resuming his post within the Corporation. He settled down to think his actions over.<\/p>\n It was a mistake killing the girl. She knew Vlad, had known him anyway. She wouldn\u2019t be seeing Vlad again until the Commander was done with him. By the time CHAOS rejoined her, Vlad wouldn\u2019t be in any mood for any reunions either. The Commander had a long death planned for him. After the disastrous CSDIOS mainframe run and Vlad\u2019s subsequent escape from Corporation troops, the Commander needed his head on a plate to redeem himself. The question of how Vlad had managed to escape the ICE attack in the mainframe didn\u2019t even register in his mind.<\/p>\n He stormed around the apartment again, looking for anything he may have missed.<\/p>\n Vlad packed up his Deck and few other things. It was time to bid the Samurai farewell. The Samurai had promised to keep his ear to the ground for anything regarding a new AI being brought out by the CSDIOS corporation. Vlad had eventually spilled everything about the run to the Samurai, against the Samurai\u2019s wishes.<\/p>\n It was time to get back to his apartment, visit Hazel to reassure her and then see what MindFuck had come up with. He was also wondering what the woman who had removed the Samurai\u2019s extraction team had in mind for him. A little net-dredge was on the cards for the green-eyed wonder-woman. He was more than a little curious about Betty.<\/p>\n Taking one of the Samurai\u2019s personal air-cars, he lifted off for the confines of Neo-Tokyo proper. The sleek craft cut the air with the ease of a blade on a woman\u2019s throat.<\/p>\n Creep had landed in Neo-Tokyo a few days ago. His approach to a target had always been covert, he knew no other way. But this time his target seemed to be more covert than he was. There was not a whisper of the whereabouts of any highly skilled cowboy from the Sub City area. He frequented bars known for dealing in contraband and illegal runs. Not a sniff.<\/p>\n Creep had to find some other way to track the target before he managed to dig too deeply into the project. If CSDIOS wanted to keep THANATOS a secret he had to get to CHAOS as soon as possible. CHAOS, Vlad Drake in reality and the Decker known as the Blind Guardian on the Net, was the only survivor of the new Intrusion Countermeasures Electronic, known as ICE. Besides the risk he posed to the project, his brain would be of interest to the Purgatory scientists. The ICE project THANATOS was only the tip of the iceberg, and this one would sink a fleet of Titanics.<\/p>\n \u201cIn other news, the Unified Defence League\u2019s project database was breached yesterday. News of the event was suppressed at the time to avoid a rush on the system by hackers but system security has been brought back up to full strength as of a few hours ago.<\/p>\n No confirmation of why<\/em> the entire protection system collapsed has yet been received. Sources speculate that it was the result of a major coding flaw that could continue to be exploited by hackers until it is plugged. The UDL denied the rumours however, attributing it to a freak occurrence and in a statement said, \u201cWhile we are still trying to determine what the exact nature of the collapse was, we can definitely rule out intrusion from any outside agency.\u201d<\/p>\n On a lighter note, the lack of any concrete explanation has led conspiracy buffs to trot out theories that the mysterious &arial<\/em> caused the systems failure\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n United Defence League secure communication: in-house radio-pulse transmission. Encryption method: UDL\/Blowfish hybrid build [classified]<\/p>\n \u201cRight gentlemen. What exactly<\/em> happened? Please begin, Mr. Saunders.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell General, we do have an intrusion on record just before the ah\u2026 event. A lone runner managed to breach the defensive perimeter just prior to collapse.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLone?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, sir. He cleared the first sixteen layers before being stopped by the rolling ICE.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTime to penetration?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlmost immediate. He\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat is ah\u2026 correct sir. He cleared the initial layers within seconds of first contact with the ICE. Ghosts were scrambled and then\u2026 this is where our data gets a little weird.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cContinue please. I get the feeling I\u2019m not going to like this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid not sir. We were unable to get a fix on the signature of the intruder; his encryption method far outstrips anything we have for personal coding. It wouldn\u2019t stand up to a whole system but it was remarkably effective for a single user. I\u2019d love to have a look at the code.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDispense with the praise, we know he got in. How did the Ghosts fare?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEverything was as normal until the Ghosts launched the feedback barrier. Definitely a human agency sir, they won\u2019t deploy that unless there is a central nervous system signature present.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe target was completely locked down. All logic would have dictated jacking out of the system\u2026 then he dodged.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot sure sir. His escape was completely cut off; I\u2019ve reviewed the logs again and again. Once the barrier connected, our Ghosts started dropping dead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m assuming we have records of this event from the remaining Ghosts.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean \u2018no sir\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI mean every Ghost involved was terminated. There was not even time for them to launch a transmission for upgrade purposes in the deeper layers. The intruder showed up on the system again just after the Ghosts were put out of action and moments later every layer of defensive ICE collapsed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are we dealing with?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo idea sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo we have an indication of the cause of the collapse itself? Gibbs?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe have a remarkably clear picture sir. None of it makes any sense, but it is very clear.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo what exactly happened?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA monstrous breach sir. Every layer was penetrated at an incredible rate. Right through the system, clean through the mainframe. Like someone had fired a bullet through the ICE.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs this possible Saunders?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo sir. The rolling ICE should have deflected a penetration of this nature, no matter what the speed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is as if the ICE was stationary sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWas it Gibbs?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo sir. Though there is<\/em> record of a sympathetic frequency transmission at each individual layer. This could theoretically collapse a layer but we haven\u2019t managed to get an AI system to collapse a series of layers at this rate, much less a defensive system of the size we have.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan a human agency cause such an event?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn theory sir, assuming he has managed to pre-program the frequencies. But to travel on such an accurate vector? No chance at all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere does that leave us?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, assuming the intruder does not return, we will still manage to deflect any other intrusion.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd if he does?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTrying not to think about it sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhich leaves R&D. Was anything taken?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026yes, Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat isn\u2019t possible! At that speed?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cQuiet, Saunders. Please continue doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEverything relating to our systems and the new neurotechnology projects was rifled. We have not yet confirmed anything but it appears that the nanotech was also given a once over.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan we determine what was compromised?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell gentlemen? Where does that leave us?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWide open sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Deep inside the back streets of Neo-Tokyo, gangs ran amok. Little violent clans of bosozoku<\/em> cruised their respective areas. Turf wars played out hourly. Slow drivers and race losers lost their lives. Tooled-up shakotan <\/em>ran each other off the roads and into embankments and barriers. It was through this area that the Cycle rider was travelling. The pavement and asphalt behind him was littered with the remains of foolish bosozoku<\/em> who had dared to challenge him.<\/p>\n His black Cycle gleamed in neon shades, reflecting the brilliance of the dives, bars and strip joints that stood shoulder to shoulder along the dead-straight trackway. Gyro-stabilizers ensured the machine stayed on the road at such high speeds. The oversized compound tires could hold the road through all but the most extreme angles. Wind intakes channeled air around the vehicle and increased the down-force further. The alloyed roll frame protected him in the event of a spill but he had never yet made use of that particular feature of the vehicle.<\/p>\n The Cycle was fitted with countermeasures on every side. EMP bolts were set to fire at the touch of a button and seeker-mines waited to home in on the engines of rival riders. A multi-chambered shotgun rode booted within easy reach of the rider.<\/p>\n Three bosozoku<\/em> rode out of a side street , the garish designs of their Cycles screaming allegiance to their clan. They took off in pursuit of the rider. Pulling up alongside, they issued their ritual challenge. Then they raced ahead and split, taking different courses to intercept the rider. One rider swerved onto the sidewalk and slowed. The other two moved ahead and turned, one approaching from directly ahead, the other at an angle. The rider boosted his Cycle\u2019s output and lifted his front wheel as he approached from the side. Tearing right at his intended victim, he prepared to take the rear wheels out of alignment. The black-helmeted rider reached across, plucked out the multi-chambered shotgun and fired. The onrushing Cycle\u2019s front tire exploded. Surprised, the bosozoku<\/em> dropped his front wheel to the road and was instantly flung forward as the stabilizers ground deep into the road. He hit the tar hard enough to shatter his helmet and was lost in the slipstream. The black helmeted rider never took his eyes off the road.<\/p>\n The oncoming rider saw his friend die. His nerve broke and he hesitated, turning slightly from his path. As the two Cycles crossed, a hard fist lashed out and caught the biker on the helmet, making him lose balance for a moment. The air intake system on his Cycle overcompensated and the entire vehicle left the road, becoming airborne. A second rider was lost to the slipstream. The black helmeted rider accelerated further and was almost lost from sight by the time the final racer gave chase.<\/p>\n The remaining bosozuko<\/em> pushed his Cycle well past its limits in an effort to catch up. Engine screaming, he began to close the gap. He was focused on nothing but the rider who had eliminated his friends. The bosozuko<\/em> watched the other rider slew his Cycle sideways and drift, one foot held out for balance. He blazed past the slowing rider and looked up just in time to see the end of the road ahead. He collided at full revs with the wall that bore scars of similar misjudgements. His Cycle erupted in a fireball of high-octane fuel, combining with the impact to demolish its rider.<\/p>\n The rider in the black helmet skidded to a stop. A practiced flick dropped the kickstand and he dismounted, removing his helmet. Grosvener entered the bar just as the bartender chalked another mark on the slate behind him and called for a free round in honour of one more wrecked bosozoku<\/em>.<\/p>\n If she wanted to watch you, she would. If she wanted to plague your life with a thousand and one trials and tribulations, she would. She could make the old legend of Job look like a day on the beach <\/em>(not that there were many beaches left that weren\u2019t ticking with radioactive waste these days). Her fingers were robotic minions, her gaze was the optic unit, every optic unit connected to a mainframe, every camera her eye. Her grasp reached as far as the wire allowed. She walked in silence through the roar of transmission, the crescendo of electron exchange. If knowledge was power, she was the most powerful construct ever to grace the planet. As formless as shadow, as changeable as the ocean, she held the alchemy of communication in the palm of her hand. Whatever she chose to transmute was elevated from its base origins into something truly remarkable. &arial was purpose, fate and destiny combined, should she wish to make herself so.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cGive me a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n Eyes around the biker bar watched the stranger leaning on the countertop. Though no one did anything as crass as actually staring (there were reputations to consider), options were weighed with just the flicker of an eye.<\/p>\n The stranger slammed his glass back onto the bar.<\/p>\n \u201cAnother.\u201d<\/p>\n Eyes caught each other across the barroom. Four men detached themselves from the shadows and converged on the stranger. Grosvener gave no sign of noticing their presence.<\/p>\n A hand clapped on to his shoulder and a voice slurred at him, asking his business there. There was a brief burst of noise and the man dropped to the floor. Not one of the patrons in the bar saw what had killed him. The stranger picked up his drink and walked to an unattended table. The remaining three did not impede his progress.<\/p>\n The house lights dimmed and a small stage lit up. Around the bar, tensions eased. The show was about to begin.<\/p>\n Careful observation of the floor of the stage would have revealed the strategically placed holo-projecters. A change in the air hinted that the sensory equipment had come online. While it cycled up, men and women were plunged into nostalgia as the equipment rolled through various emotional states like a radio seeking a station. A moment of equilibrium was reached and the show proper began.<\/p>\n The shape of a woman flickered onstage for a moment and then appeared to solidify. Smoke machines hissed, creating a more substantial background for the holographic projection. A woman now stood onstage, eyes downcast but smiling. She wore a tight garment, revealing but not sleazy. Silvered synthetics shone in the light of the stage. She was tall, with a graceful neck and hair cut to accentuate its shape. As with almost every other holo-show, her proportions were perfect.<\/p>\n Ocean-blue irises peeked out from beneath long eyelashes. Full lips curved upward at the corners. Music filtered down from nowhere. There were no speakers in the bar; the sensory equipment induced those watching to supply the sound they felt most suited the scene for themselves.<\/p>\n Those sitting and watching under the influence of mood-enhancers were lost in a cloud of rapture already and even completely straight audience members felt a little giddy due to the sensory manipulation.<\/p>\n The female figure on stage began a dance that seemed to writhe in time with every song imagined by the silent audience. Her arms rose and fell, caressed her sides and moved up over her ribcage before plunging into her hair, extending upward in a halo of blonde. She turned to the side and the slit of her skirt opened, revealing the play of virtual muscle beneath virtual skin. She bent and dropped her hands to the stage, then slid them up her inner thighs as she rose again.<\/p>\n A collective sigh passed through the now captive audience when she stepped off the stage and walked into the bar proper. Her hands reached out and stroked cheeks as she passed. Heads turned as though her touch was tangible. Not even the stranger was immune to her. A few hands reached out to her, grasping nothing more than air.<\/p>\n She drifted to a man sitting alone in the centre of the bar. Smiling sweetly down at him, her hands swept up his cheeks, lifting him to his feet. Still holding him, she backed and turned until her ethereal form passed through a table and he was facing the audience. A gentle push unhinged his legs and he plopped down onto a chair.<\/p>\n Like a man in a trance or under the influence of a religious experience, the man\u2019s arms hung lifeless at his sides. She stepped forward and sat on his lap, curling her legs beneath her. A hand cupped his cheek and turned his face towards hers. She kissed him, slowly and softly as she began to dissolve into nothingness. The show was over.<\/p>\n The tribesmen had never seen the light of the Upper World. They had helped the Outsider when he had made his appearance because of the honour he seemed to give by dressing much as their god had in days gone by. His arrival had proved a good omen and the sport provided by those who hunted him in the sewers pleased the tribe.<\/p>\n As a rule though, they salvaged every electrical enhancement and augmentation they could strip off the corpses of the foolish Topsiders who intruded. The Ozzys were far from stupid and they quickly determined the use to which most of the augmentations were put. The intruders relied on the false advantages of thermal imaging and sound amplifiers to kill or capture the tribesmen, while they in turn made a game of outsmarting the equipment, toying with the armed men before killing them.<\/p>\n Prolonged exposure to the underground environment had reduced their body temperatures and increased the range of their night vision. Their pupils had evolved to take advantage of the limited available light, so that their eyes appeared as dark orbs. Living among the creatures who made the darkness their home had taught them the value of stealth. The sophisticated equipment worn by the Corporation teams could not stand up to the advantages nature had bestowed.<\/p>\n One of the raw Corporation recruits moved stealthily through the darkness of the underground. He did not feel nervous at all, despite reports of the kill rate of the men sent into the area. Like most of the Corporation thugs, he had been picked as much for his willingness to take orders and lack of imagination as for his military potential. The Board was of the opinion that intelligence was more of a liability than an asset in their recruits.<\/p>\n The telltale glow of an optical enhancement boosted the light output to the recruit\u2019s retina. All seemed silent, though there had been a few scuffling noises earlier that he had attributed to rats. He had been unable to locate the source of the sound. However, when a large rat had dropped from a pipe above his head he had opened fire on it, severely injuring a brick wall and a wide swath of sewer pipe. The luminous readout on his assault rifle showed that he would have to reload soon.<\/p>\n Two pale shapes crossed unnoticed behind him, each travelling close enough to brush lightly against the trooper. The talented fingers of pickpockets lifted the remaining clips from his belt as the figures split into the darkness. The recruit reached back to where his ammunition should have been and clawed in disbelief at nothing. Another shape flitted from the shadows and a feather-light touch unloaded the remaining ammunition from the rifle. The click as the clip unloaded alerted the trooper and his rifle rose to his shoulder as he sighted on the pale form vanishing into the blackness. The rifle emitted a frustrated buzz, signaling that the ammunition bay was empty.<\/p>\n A short clattering noise at his feet drew his attention downwards. A low-yield EMP grenade rolled to a stop and a moment later his optical enhancement shorted out in a white flash.<\/p>\n The trooper drew his sidearm and pivoted wildly, trying to make out where the threat was. His natural night-vision had gone unused for months and was slow in returning. A hand pressed into his back. He whirled and fired off a shot at empty space. Another arm jolted his side, dislodging his assault rifle. He turned again, his breathing laboured as panic set in.<\/p>\n He backed into a wall, pressing against it and waving the sidearm randomly, trying to find a target. As he swung to the right, he was confronted by a pair of deep-set eyes in a pale face inches from his own. At the same instant he felt his sidearm plucked from his suddenly limp hands. His eyes slammed rapidly in all directions as he picked out the pale tribesmen closing in from all sides.<\/p>\n He found himself surrounded by impassive faces. A strong voice, one Vlad would have known instantly, floated out of the darkness beyond the crowded Ozzys.<\/p>\n \u201cFor what reason do you seek the Outsider, scum?\u201d<\/p>\n The recruit screamed as the questioning began.<\/p>\n Both Creep and the Commander had been updated on the UDL systems crash. An approximation of where the transmission had originated pointed towards Neo-Tokyo. They were both on the right track. The Chairman of the CSDIOS Board had been unable to confirm whether the reason for the crash was in fact Vlad Drake but the total and utter lack of any evidence at all was compelling in itself. The Chairman remembered the data readouts from the disastrous matrix run that the Corporation had sanctioned and then, as now, the information only showed because they were expecting it. Had it been an unsanctioned run, the readout would have been as incomprehensible as the one he was now staring at.<\/p>\n Since Neo-Tokyo was CHAOS\u2019s last known location, it all pointed to the cowboy they were so eager to get to know. The Purgatory scientists were asking for delivery of the living body of the hacker. Even though they had scaled up the tests of THANATOS, they had been unable to duplicate the CSDIOS run in lab conditions. Several high-level hackers had met their ends with little more than a token resistance to the ICE. Even a few ex-military wetware hackers (hacking the human brain took skill) had been pitted against the new variant. Like everyone else who had gone up against it, they had died within moments of connecting with the code.<\/p>\n
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<\/a>Ozzy will come.<\/em> That was the guiding light of the tribe that dwelt under the grime of Sub City. In the meantime, they lived as they believed he would wish them to. According to legend, the Great One, the Prince of Darkness, would feast on live bats while his people gave worship. To find a live bat in the underground society was cause for religious awe. The animals were ritually sacrificed, devoured in the correct manner, beginning with the head. While they awaited the return of the Prince of their Darkness, they survived. But still the Corporation men came.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
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<\/a>Vlad had to leave Neo-Tokyo as soon as possible. Sooner than that if he could arrange it. Hazel had been killed because of him, his life and work. It was something he had dreaded for years and the main motivation for hiding his tracks for so long. He could have let the life go a long time ago but he had not. It wasn\u2019t as if he really needed the credits that the runs brought in. There was little comfort in the thought that Hazel herself would have been the first to push him to find out exactly what the CSDIOS Corporation was cooking up. He still felt responsible for her death.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/somethingwicked.co.za\/magazine\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/03\/Horizontal-Rule.png\" "\\"Horizontal-Rule\\"")
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