John and one of the rare female Alphas came down the stairs, each carrying a Militech Crusher in one hand as if it were a pistol. I waved them over and told them what to expect. I didn't expect that they would need to do anything at all, but if the Voodoo Boys had three people, I wanted them to see three of "my people."
After five minutes, I clicked a mental button and all of the wireless access points in my building shifted to jammers instead. They'd jam all outside net access from my building, but people could still use some short-range wireless communications. The way my visual processor overlayed the jammers on my visual field was rather annoying, with points of radiating static.
As such, I shifted my electromagnetic sense away from a visual overlay and dumped it into my sensory cortex, wincing a little as I was momentarily disoriented. If one of them was a netrunner, even if I was jamming outgoing net connections they might be able to connect to someone or something with the short-range wireless protocol.
Nodding, I told John and the other Alpha-series, "EMCON protocols active. Disable all of your radios manually. One of them is some sneaky fucking runner."
They both grimaced, sort of. Borgs had a fairly universal distaste for netrunners because being hacked was a really big deal for them. Although I didn't need the wireless to continue accessing the subnet, I didn't want to publicise that, so I grabbed a long data cable and plugged it into one of the outlets by the reception desk and sat there, waiting.
About ten minutes later, I saw both Kiwi and the three strangers walking up to the building at a slow pace. As they got closer, I disconnected the Dragoon from it's own radio. It still appeared to be active, but it only was connected to a honeytrap that had an epic ton of ICE of increasing lethality. Even if a runner managed to completely infiltrate the system, it wasn't really connected to the Dragoon body anymore. It could send me limited messages, and only in text, and that was it.
"Boss, these three were the ones wanting to talk to you. This one is called Marie Antoinette. I don't know the other two," Kiwi said as the whole group entered the building. Was that really her name? I wondered.
I nodded and said, "Dismiss your men, but you stay." Then I shifted to look at the strangers. One was a woman, rather pretty and dressed in a figure-hugging netrunner suit with a cloak over it. Casually, I designated each of them with four reticles apiece using my SmartLink targeting system. If I hit the button, my turret would fire twelve rounds in less than half of a second, and each target would take three in the chest and one in the head before I could say Bob's your uncle.
As I glanced at the netrunner's eyes, I frowned as I noticed a flurry of radio-frequency transmissions from her, starting omnidirectional and shifting to directional and directed at me. They were obviously modulated for encoding data and appeared to be hundreds of different initial handshakes using differing protocols. Then, I got an alert from the dummy plug that was simulating my open wireless port.
[Dummy Plug: Incoming port scan... ]
[Dummy Plug: First layer ICE bypassed... ]
[Dummy Plug: Second layer ICE bypass in progress... ]
The Dragoon's electromagnetic sense was hooked partially into its cyberwarfare suite, even through the Dummy Plug, so as soon as I got a notification that I was being port-scanned, the feeling of the radio-frequency transmission she was sending out changed. It wasn't solely a visual sense. When it was dumped into my sensory cortex, it used almost all of my senses, and more besides. So, immediately, it became something akin to flashing red, hot to the touch, and with an awful smell.
My hand snapped up and "grabbed" the transmission without me thinking about it, the sense of proprioception also being hooked up. As soon as I "grabbed" it, I got another notification.
[Dummy Plug: Infiltrator connection isolated.]
I saw her wince slightly, and I moved. First, I crushed the connection in my hand.
[Dummy Plug: Connection terminated. Blacklist updated.]
At the same time, I lunged. I was incredibly quick, at both my maximum physical speed of the body as well as the maximum reaction speed of my mind. In almost no time at all, I had closed the ten metres between us, whipped out my giant sword and had it pointed very close to the woman's throat.
Her eyes widened in shock, and her two bodyguards just barely started reacting, but both Kiwi and her men, who hadn't even left the room yet, startled and pointed guns at all three of them. Even they realised that if they went for their weapons, they wouldn't live too much longer than that.
At first, I was planning on taking the lady netrunner's head off, as I didn't know why she had tested my cybersecurity. But I thought that it might have been a reflex, so I decided against it. Instead, I growled, intentionally using words and phrases that would sound a bit foreign to any of my identities, "If you try that again, you'll end up like your namesake — right here, cake bitch. Savvy?"
Also, I wanted to use "savvy?" in a sentence. Sue me. She held her hands up placatingly and even bowed her head a little. She had a pretty noticeable but not unpleasant accent, "I apologise, Saturday's Hand. I'm used to always having a connection to the net, and getting disconnected when I walked in here startled me."
Saturday's Hand? What the fuck did that mean? Also, I didn't know that I believed her. That was exactly what I was afraid she would do! But I slowly slid my sword back into its scabbard and took three large steps backwards, giving her and her men some personal space.
I waved both the Alphas and Kiwi's men, and they casually lowered their weapons too. A line of text popped up on my visual field, an encrypted transmission from Kiwi. It hit my Dummy Plug too, but sending limited messages to me was one of the few things it was capable of doing.
Kiwi: Hacking attempt?
I couldn't really reply at the moment, so I just nodded once at her, who scowled. I stared at the Voodoo Boys for a moment longer before saying, "What the fuck do you want?"
"We came to warn you about the invaders entering the district, and possibly offer our assistance," she said, much more respectfully, "We have intelligence about just who they are that might be useful."
I grabbed the data connection that had unplugged itself when I lunged at the strangers, plugged it back in and sent a message to Herr Shadow. He might not respond, depending on where he was.
However, this time I was lucky. He replied, along with a few files that were overlays for a map, showing about a third of the "front" down south. The map was quite fancy, and colour-coded even. He included a text saying that they seem to be digging in thus far, not gearing up to invade to the north.
"Speak, then," I said, trying to sound cool.
She nodded and said, "We're almost certain they're elements from the NUSA military. We have confirmed they have at least four hundred heavily armed soldiers, and they're currently making mincemeat of the gangs in the very south of Pacifica. We're concerned that we, and as extension, you, will be next."
I pointed at a SmartWall, and it activated, showing the map file I had just received, and said, "They are the NUSA Army 10th Special Forces Group, 2nd Batallion, Airborne. Commanded by a Colonel Kurt Hansen.They do not appear to be readying for a massive thrust into Pacifica proper just yet, so as far as I am concerned, they are not my problem."
All three of them looked surprised, although the runner covered up her shock better. She coughed and said, "That is... quite interesting. Might I ask how you came about this information?"
"No," I said, simply and forcefully. I paused momentarily, "If that's all you have, message received. Get out." However, I briefly reconnected my wireless, dismissing the dummy plug so that I could transfer her a Contact Card wirelessly. It was the contact details I had made for the Dragoon "identity", "Contact me on the net if you have anything more to say or if they become an actual threat."
She looked slightly upset at first, but after I sent her my contact details seemed mollified and nodded, "Of course, Saturday's Hand." Her two bodyguards looked upset at her being so deferential to me, but I had almost killed them all, so I personally thought they were really self-unaware of their own position in the world right now.
I stared at them until they collectively turned around and walked out the door. I didn't deactivate the jammers right away, either. I glanced at Kiwi, "Can you make sure they didnt drop some tiny little device that does god knows what? Like some sort of proxy for invading our subnet?"
She looked briefly startled at the idea before nodding, looking around and retracing the steps the Voodoo contingent had taken since entering the property, going as far back as the parking lot. Finally, she returned and said, "Looks clear, I think."
Well, that was good enough for me. I disabled the jammers, and re-enabled the wireless access points, sending a message to the building chatroom at the same time, "Wireless re-enabled."
"Emission control protocols deactivated, you two," I said at John and the other Alpha, "I think we're done here for now." They nodded and ambled away.
Kiwi walked over and asked, "Can we talk privately?"
"Downstairs," I said, and she followed me down.
Once we were alone, I shifted so that it was my normal voice speaking, "What's up?" I hopped up on the steel table I used as a chair.
"I am surprised you sent them packing so decisively," she said, "We would probably need their help if the NUSA make a nuisance of themselves."
I shrugged, "I'm playing the role of a borderline cyberpsycho. There is no way he would have acquiesced to any kind of collaboration at the first meeting. I bet she wasn't that high up in the Voodoo Boys, either. How good of a hacker was she?"
Kiwi made a waffling gesture, and I nodded, "Potentially disposable if I was less lucid than they thought I was going to be. Do you have any idea what Saturday's Hand means?"
"No, but they say all sorts of weird quasi-spiritual bullshit," she said very disapprovingly.
I shrugged, "Besides... if I was too accommodating, we'd just be turned into a cat's paw to be disposed of after we were no longer useful. I really don't trust these guys."
Kiwi shook her head, "No, I am right there with you. I just thought it was out of character; normally, you give people more leeway, and your first instinct if things are serious is always cooperation or conflict avoidance."
Was it? What counted as serious? I wanted to bite my lip in thought, but instead, I just shrugged, "So I put on a good performance, then?"
She gave me a double thumbs up, "Yeah, totally nova. Do we have any story as to why you have so much money that you can hire my team?"
I shrugged, "I can't think of anything. I obfuscated the source of the funds pretty well, but of course, this is a gang of professional netrunners. I think any story we would make up would tend to backfire, so let's just stay mysterious. They'll probably concoct more interesting stories themselves, wondering about it anyway."
Hana got a message inviting her to dinner with her workgroup. It wasn't good to decline those invitations too often, so I said, "I gotta go; I'm going send you Herr Schatten's data after he finishes scouting the perimeter of the soldiers. We do need to think about what our options will be. I'd rather not lose all I invested here, but our lives are more important."
Really, I meant her life. Still, I could move everything out of the sub-basement in a hurry if I really had to. It would ruin a lot of my plans, though. Even if I lost everything in this building, including having the Dragoon go down with the ship, so long as I got my special crystal out of harm's way first, it would just be an annoying setback.
She nodded, "Right. Maybe we'll be lucky, and the NUSA guys will eradicate all of the other gangs and then just go home."
I doubted we'd be that lucky. Also, other gangs?
Shaking my head, I sat down and deactivated the Dragoon.
Space Station 13
In Close Proximity of Galileo Cylinder, Metastable Lagrange Point 3 (Earth-Moon)
Finding myself back in my cramped stateroom and in half-gravity, I sent a message to my work leader accepting the invitation before stripping off all of my clothes and hopping into the shower.
I would have to prioritise, somehow, making it to the Crystal Palace and getting seen by one of the geneticists there. I had been here long enough that I was due a little time off, wasn't I?
But perhaps I could make it a working trip. My boss had asked me if I was interested in playing bodyguard to rich groundsiders on account of how Hana looked fucking super jacked and dangerous. Most long-time spacers tended to the lithe and tall body types and didn't look as dangerous, even if they were.
They also had something of a distaste for physical cybernetics, so my Kerenzikov, high-end subdermal armour and Strong Arms really did make me ridiculously dangerous, even unarmed.
Nodding, maybe I could be some rich tourist's bodyguard for a couple of weeks. That would give me some time at the Crystal Palace after I escorted them background side.
Then it was just a matter of getting Hasumi seen. I'd just tell Yuki to schedule it. I had already performed the modifications on Taylor, and it might have been a little hesitancy that caused me not to prioritise it, but I think I needed to do so now, especially if I ended up fleeing Pacifica in disgrace.
I wished the war between states, or whatever they were calling it, would end already. Not only were an incredible amount of lives being ruined, but my plans too!
I had a couple of minutes after I got dressed before my door chime rang. I called out, " Wole wa!" This caused the door to automatically unlock and open, revealing one of the grinning members of my workgroup.
He asked in Yoruba, which was the preferred internal language in our workgroup, which I had to pick up pretty quickly when I first started working, " You ready, giant lady?" The latter word was a kind of slang, and it meant more along the lines of "giant babe", I thought.
I audibly cracked my knuckles before saying in the same language, " You know I can break you in half, right?"
" Don't tease, giant lady!" he said, laughing, and we left for dinner with the rest.
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Odd bedfellows
January 2068
Pacifica, Night City
EBM Petrochem Stadium (under construction)
"Report," a curt voice that belonged to Colonel Kurt Hansen commanded. The Colonel was a large man of European descent, over one-hundred-and-eighty-five centimetres and was decked out in a modern stealth armour suit in drab black. He stood imposingly in a half-furnished conference room along with a handful of similarly dressed men and women. Most interestingly, however, was that there was no rank insignia on his combat uniform, nor was there the traditional marking of the NUSA flag on his shoulder.
