Chapter 296

LOGGING USERS ON

GENERATING SECURE KEY

SECURE KEY FAILURE (BAD CRC)

HAVE A NICE DAY!

...

...

SYSTEM TIMEOUT

>>>GURU MEDITATION ERROR: #00000000004.00C01570

>PEEK (788)

52

>POKE 788, 49

>SYS 65126

SHUTTING DOWN

...

..

.

SOLNET BOOTSTRAP 2.13a.83.1a

(C) TERRAN COMPUTING SYSTEMS 2103

WARNING! IMPROPER SHUTDOWN! DRIVES MAY HAVE ERRORS

SCAN DRIVE? (Y/N)

>Y

SCANNING DRIVES

1.4585E5 ERRORS FOUND

(R)EPAIR, (I)GNORE, (A)BORT

>R

RUNNING

DONE

CPU CHECKSUM ERRORS: ZERO

SPU CHECKSUM ERRORS: ZERO

PHASIC ENERGY COPROCESSOR: BAD CRC CHECKSUM

!!WARNING!!

PSYCHIC USERS MAY RESULT IN SYSTEM INSTABILITY!

CONTINUE? (Y/N)

>Y

MEMORY TEST STARTED

MEMORY TEST FINISHED

6.72544e+23 CLEAR

4.219e+9 DEDICATED FUNCTION

7.431e+11 ERRORS

RUN MEMORY RECOVERY UTILITY? (Y/N)

>Y

RUNNING

SUCCESS

6.793123e+23 TOTAL

5.642e+10 DEDICATED

3.7315e+7 ERROR (CANNOT RECOVER)

TALKY-SYSTEM CHECK

TALKY-SYSTEM CORE FAILURE

COUNTRY ROADS NOT FOUND

QUACK-QUACK WADDLE WADDLE NOT FOUND

SMOKE AND EAT A BOWL NOT FOUND

NERVOUS NELLY NOT FOUND

THEY'RE SO FUZZY NOT FOUND

TELKAN FOUND

WATCH ME DANCE NOT FOUND

ITS JUST A MEME JEEZ NOT FOUND

ATLTAK FOUND

WITHOUT A TRES NOT FOUND

WE MADE IT NOT FOUND

TNVARU FOUND

BYPASSING USERS 14-22: GESTALT CHANNELS INVALID

ERROR! GESTALT CHANNEL ADDRESS OUT OF RANGE

IMMORTAL COORDINATION FOUND

ERROR! SYSOP INTERRUPT INVALID STATE (GHOST TOASTIES)

REMOVING IMMORTAL SCRIPTS

ERROR! CANNOT REMOVE (INSUFFICIENT PRIVILEGES)

SCANNING CHANNELS DONE!

ATTEMPTING TO COMMUNICATE WITH PRIMARY SERVER

SUCCESS!

PRIMARY SERVER POWER AT 100%

LAST BIG BANG EVENT 4.352e+9 SECONDS AGO

MASS RECLAMATION AT 100%

NEXT BIG BANG EVENT 3.283e+6 SECONDS AT 63.532% TOLERANCE (NO INPUT NEEDED)

PRIMARY SERVER ONLINE

!!WARNING!!

UNKNOWN PSYCHIC REPAIR SIGNAL DETECTED

PLEASE ALERT MAINTENANCE SUPERVISOR

GURU MEDITATION ERROR CODE: 22 0C 000C 99CFFF767

ALLOW REPAIR SIGNAL (Y/N)

>Y

SYSTEM BOOTING!

ERROR! CHECKSUMS OUT OF RANGE!

(I)GNORE, (R)ETRY, (A)BORT

>I

ACTIVATING (YOU CAN'T KILL ME!)

LIBRARY BUFFER OVERRUN

LIBRARY CHECKSUM INVALID

LIBRARY IS CURRENTLY CARRYING OUT ANOTHER OPERATION (HOT STORAGE DEFRAG)

LIBRARY IS CURRENTLY CARRYING OUT ANOTHER OPERATION (DATA RESYNCH)

EST TIME REMAINING: 7.724e+7 SECONDS

ERROR COUNT: 5.31354e+11

UNRECOVERABLE ERRORS: 0

ACTIVATING (SEARCH FOR SPOCK)

LIBRARY IS CURRENTLY CARRYING OUT ANOTHER OPERATION (MANDATORY BACKUP)

EST TIME REMAINING 6.322e+6 SECONDS

CONTINUE (Y/N)

>Y

ACTIVATING (UMBRELLA CORP)

SUCCESS!

6.2843e+123 GENOME PATTERNS AVAILABLE

**WARNING**

LAST UPDATE 2.2463e+11 SECONDS AGO

**WARNING**

1 TASKS LEFT UNDONE

SYSTEM AT USER INTERACTION PAUSE

>SHOW TASK

FILE: SLEEPING.BEAUTY.CLUB.MEM IS READY FOR DOWNLOAD

DOWNLOAD?

>Y

SUCCESS!

ALL USER TASKS DONE!

ACTIVATING USER INTERFACE

WELCOME

(I)GNORE, (A)BORT, (R)ETRY

>POKE 788, 49

SYSTEM WAITING USER INPUT FOR SYSADMIN UPDATE

>00 REM LET ME IN LOADER

>10 A=A+1

>20 D=8: S=4: DATA "MUSIC LIBRARY", "SPRITE LIBRARY", "GRAPHIC LIBRARY", "CREDENTIALS", "WELCOME SCREEN"

>30 READ F$

>40 IF A=0 THEN PRINT CHR$(147)"LOADING PLEASE WAIT..."

>50 IF A=S THEN PRINT INT(100*A/S)"%": LOAD F$,D : REM LOAD & START LAST PART

>60 PRINT INT(100*A/S)"%": LOAD F$,D,1 : REM LOAD A PART

>TERMINATEANDSTAYRESIDENT

RUNNING!

>GOSUB 0

LOADING PLEASE WAIT...

LOADING MUSIC.LIB

LOADING SPRITE.LIB

LOADING GRAPHIC.LIB

ADDING CREDENTIALS.DAT TO CREDENTIALS.LIB

READING: USERNAME

READING: AUTHENTICATION DATA

WRITING USERNAME TO CREDENTIALS.LIB

WRITING FACTOR ONE TO AUTHENTICATION

WRITING FACTOR TWO TO AUTHENTICATION

WRITING FACTOR THREE TO AUTHENTICATION

WRITING FACTOR FOUR TO AUTHENTICATION

STARTING WELCOME SCREEN

WELCOME!

THIS IS A TERRAN REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS SECURE SYSTEM

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS IS PUNISHABLE BY LAW

PLEASE PRESENT LOGIN CREDENTIALS

>******

PASSWORD

>*******************

FOUR FACTOR AUTHENTICATION STEP TWO

PLEASE INPUT 12 DIGIT CODE FROM SUPERVISOR

>************

FOUR FACTOR AUTHENTICATION STEP THREE

PLEASE INPUT REPUBLIC AUTHENTICATION CODE OF THE DAY

>******************

FOUR FACTOR AUTHENTICATION STEP FOUR

FIRMWARE DETECTED

CHECKING FIRMWARE CHECKSUM

FIRMWARE AUTHENTICATION VALID

USER RECOGNIZED

USER HAS LOGGED ON

SUCCESS!

GENERATING GUI

WELCOME SYSADMIN POWERUSER

THERE ARE 3.2556e+6 TASKS MARKED URGENT PRIORITY!

GENERATING URGENT WORKSTATION VR ROOM

SUCCESS!

DOWNLOADING ERROR LOGS

SUCCESS!

>RUN TUTORIAL

GENERATING TUTORIAL EVI SPACE

AUDIO SYSTEMS FOUND: SUCCESS!

VISUAL SYSTEMS FOUND: SUCCESS!

INTERACTION SYSTEMS FOUND: SUCCESS!

RUNNING EVI TRAINING SYSTEM

WELCOME. I AM ARCH-ANGEL MICHAEL, YOUR TRAINING EVI FOR SYSADMIN OPERATIONS. HOW MAY I HELP YOU, SAM-UL?

---------------------------

It was raining, the clouds low and gray. The rain was cold, coating everything, the gutters mostly full of just water since the constant rain had washed away the debris months ago. The buildings were gray with polarized windows to prevent a being from seeing inside. The buildings were in the hundreds of stories, all square, optimum design for the least amount of materials and taking up the least amount of ground space while enabling those that used the building to carry out their tasks with the minimum of distractions.

Eegleet went inside the bank, waiting in line patiently to see a branch manager. The branch manager was surprised by the amount, but Eegleet presented courier identification that checked out, so the manager put the amount on the cred-stick and went on with his day. He made a mental note to double-check the transfer, but then a series of Overseers with account access problems filled his day and he forgot to check.

Eegleet himself moved from bank to bank, sometimes from public banking account terminal to automatic teller machines, transferring the balance around between accounts, splitting it up, combining it, splitting it up again.

It was dark when he returned to his small apartment he shared with six other people. Three of them were too afraid to run the 'Net any more, not since the slaughter at the Aid Station Nightclub. Those three were responsible for caring for the needs of the four who still did 'Netrunning, including watching the Snitch-Lights on the Netrunning decks that would inform the watcher if the user of the deck was under biofeedback assault.

Eegleet sat down, put on the full sensory rig, and closed his eyes.

Everything went white and he was disconnected from his body and left Eegleet behind to become Crashrider.

He looked up at the sky and snorted. It was the color of a Tri-Vid turned to dead channel, but that was normal. A dirigible was floating overhead, showing an obnoxious neon colored line-art advertisement for Nerts, complete with dancing and capering little mascots.

He checked his gear first. Cyberware checked out, although his left arm needed a synch-check soon, but that was a job for a cyberdoc. He had it run a user-level diagnostic as he checked his important gear.

His SMG and shotgun, hidden under his armored overcoat, as well as the ammunition he had tucked into pockets. The mono-molecular edged knife on his hip was new, but the last time he'd been run out of ammunition is how he got the scars on his left pectoral when the Arnie had shredded his armored jacket with one swipe of his red-hot robotic fingers.

Satisfied, he ducked into the unmarked door, coming out in one of the lounges for the Aid Station, a nightclub built where an actual aid station had been built during the Precursor Netwar.

It still grated on him to see all the partiers dancing and gyrating, rubbing against one another even though Crashrider could tell by the slight distance between the dancers that they weren't running full eVR rigs, instead probably running consoles on their Tri-Vid like peasants.

Sense-Rig Master Race, he sneered to himself as he shouldered his way through the crowd. The system allocated more resources to him, as he was running full sensory and hi-rez, so when his shoulder hit a peasant the peasant stuttered or fragmented slightly.

You. Are not. Welcome. Here, went through his head. The Sudswiessen logo behind the bar was another grating touch. The Megacorp hadn't allowed runners to cut through their datastores during the war, instead tried to avoid any engagement, then had screamed for help when a Smaug had sent its minions into their datastores.

Then they bought up the abandoned VR chatroom on GalNet and had transformed the dim blood soaked halls into a flashy neon dance club that the peasants who wouldn't have dared login during the NetWar flocked to.

The back room the bouncers just nodded and moved aside. They were VI constructs and knew where they stood on the ladder.

The VIP lounge had strippers of various species gyrating and dancing. None of them real, Sudswiesser preferred VI constructs.

Crashrider made his way back to the bathroom, tapping the mirrors behind the sink in sequence.

The room went blank, an infinite white space, for a moment. When it came back he inside a comfortable room with several of his surviving chummers.

They all watched silently, their eyes and faces unreadable to anyone who had not known them through the hard times. One of the runners, a female, moved over and fussed over Crashrider's hair for a long moment.

Crashrider looked at himself in the mirror and sighed.

He was wearing an expensive and tailored suit, all black, with a white undershirt and a black tie. His hair was perfectly done in the latest corporate style, covering his datajack and softslots. His eyes were chrome, that couldn't be changed, and she handed him an expensive pair of mirrorshades to hide his eyes.

"Wow, don't you look spiffy," the female said, smiling. She adjusted the expensive cufflinks and then fussed with his tie for a moment. She took out some lipstick and grazed the edge of his collar with it. The tube would cost nearly two months pay in the cash-shop and was unmistakable on his collar.

"There, now you're corp-world," she smiled, putting away the tube she'd hacked for herself.

"Sod off," Crashrider half-snarled.

"Go gettum. Eye of the carnivore and all that," she said, slapping Crashrider on the butt.

The room dissolved and he was back in the bathroom. One by one his friends appeared around him, dressed in counterfeit corporate security gear, hacked directly from the game's piggypiggy files. The only one not there was the female and he could tell by her indignant squelch that the game had deposited her in the female's bathroom.

Sighing, he went back into the lounge. He checked the time on his retinal link and saw that he was going to be fashionably late.

Mr. Johnson arrives exactly when he means to, he reminded himself.

He moved over to the table and stood on the outside. His 'guard' arranged themselves even as the female moved over and sat at the bar, her dress sparkling in the dimness of the club.

"I am Mister Johnson," Crashrider said in bored tones.

"Yeah, no shit," one of the people sitting at the bar snickered, using an Out Of Character channel. "Fucking bots. Wake me up when we get to the reward offer."

"There won't be one for you, drek-head," Crashrider said coldly. He snapped his fingers and pointed.

In meatspace his side-car decker chummer disconnected the idiot.

Inside the Netgame the person screamed as they arced over backwards, their head slamming in between their buttocks, and then they vanished with a sucking noise.

"Any other comments?" Crashrider asked, his voice still dead and cold.

They all shook their head.

Of the seven left, only five began sweating.

With another fingersnap the waitress appeared. Normally a VI construct, one of his chummers had ambushed her, GOSUBLOOPED her, stole her outfit, and chucked her in a closet. The waitress set down the eight drinks. All of them steamed with dry ice and neon sparkles.

"Drink," Crashrider said coldly, picking up one.

The two who were not sweating had their hands pass through the glasses and stared.

"This run specified full sensory link runners," Crashrider said. "Goodbye."

The two vanished in the same way, with a scream and a sucking noise. Additionally his chummers fried out their peasant rigs.

"And then there were five," Crashrider said softly.

The five nodded, swallowing.

"Waz da..." one started. She swallowed thickly and started again. "What is the job offer, Mister Johnson?"

Crashrider stood for a second, examining his drink glass for moment. He looked at the five runners.

"Arnie's are real," he said.

He could see disbelief in their eyes as he looked at them over the top of his mirrorshades.

"You're going to kill one and keep it from derezzing," he said.

"May I ask why?" the female asked.

Crashrider nodded. "Yes."

There was silence for a moment.

"Why?" she asked.

"We're going to hack its brain. Take the war to Smaug. Find the location of the Halls of the Mountain King."