I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love. -Revelation 2:4 Babel led Lanier through the Renraku complex like he had a map in his head. He just might, at that, Lanier thought. He was certainly amazed at the way the security systems in the complex seemed to pay no attention to them whatsoever. They passed at least three security cameras that Lanier was aware of, but all continued to placidly scan the corridors with no indication that they even noticed the presence of the two people sneaking through the complex. No alarm raised, no security measure activated against them. Whatever Babel had done to the security system, it appeared to be working. They arrived at a door a short distance from the interrogation room they had just left. There wasn't a soul in the corridors of the facility, and they had seen no one since leaving that room. They stopped in front of a door with a security camera poised over it and a maglock card-reader set into the wall alongside. The door looked like a heavy-security type Lanier was familiar with. Without the right passkey to open the maglock, the door would require explosives to force open. The Uzis Lanier and Babel were carrying would barely scratch the door's armor-composite structure. Lanier started to reach for the passkey in his jacket, then changed his mind. He wanted to see how Babel would handle it. "This is the main computer center," Babel said softly. He stood in front of the door, Uzi in hand, and looked up at the security camera. "Open sesame," he said. The red monitoring light on the camera blinked three times in rapid succession, followed by the indicator light on the maglock flashing from red to green. The door to the computer room slid open with a quiet hiss. Babel immediately stepped through it and off to the side, allowing Lanier to follow him into the room. The door hissed shut behind them with a solid click. Lanier suspected it was locked again as if nothing had ever happened. Takana Saigo sat on the other side of the small room at a computer console connected to the impressive array of equipment in the room. Lanier recognized it as an access terminal set up for one of Renraku's best corporate mainframe systems. The computing power of this complex had to be formidable, making it more than just a corporate research and development facility. Lanier suspected that the complex was part of some kind of bunker or "command center" Renraku could use to direct activities in the Matrix, a staging area from which to launch electronic assaults and forays against their corporate rivals. That meant Renraku was prepared to carry this gambit as far as they had to, even if it meant open conflict with the other megacorps. Lanier would use any means necessary to prevent that from happening. Saigo started at the sudden appearance of the two men. He began to reach for the console in front of him, but Babel had his Uzi leveled at the Renraku executive's chest with a steady aim. "Don't move," he said in a flat, cold tone. "I would hate to have to shoot you, sensei." Lanier caught the Japanese expression for "teacher" and glanced at Babel, then back at Saigo. He wondered if Babel recalled more about his background with Saigo than before. Saigo's mouth opened and, for a moment, no sound came out of it. Within moments, he managed to regain control of his voice. "How did you get in here?" he said. "I called upon one of my helper spirits to open the door for us. What's the matter, Saigo-san? Haven't you ever seen a shaman at work?" Saigo ignored the inference and his eyes flicked from Babel to Lanier and back. "Where are Lambert and Westcott?" "I'm afraid they're busy sleeping things off," Lanier said with a slight shrug. "They've had a very hard day. Dr. Westcott especially." "It's no easy thing mucking around in the mind of a technoshaman," Babel said. "He learned that the hard way. Now you're going to learn the same lesson." "Michael," Saigo said in a quiet and calm tone, "what do you think you are doing? Have you gone mad?" "On the contrary, honorable sir, for the first time in my life I feel quite sane." "They've brainwashed you. The otaku…" Babel smiled his ragged grin. "Brainwashed… yes, I guess you could say that. They've washed out the years of corporate conditioning that made me think Renraku was the center of the universe. That what was good for the company was good for everyone. They showed me what life outside of the comfortable, sheltered, corporate world was like for everyone else: the squalor, the desperation, the ongoing fight for survival. And I learned that Renraku is willing to risk corporate war just to improve its standing on the stock markets and to punch up the bottom line." "Michael, that's not true, you know…" "Shut up!" Babel said. "That name does not bind me any longer. My name is Babel. Michael Bishop is dead. He has been expunged from any databanks, no trace of him remains. Your student is gone, sensei. He learned his lessons a little too well. You wanted to teach me to be a spy for you and the company, to make me into a weapon Renraku could use and then throw away. Well, your tool has gained a mind of its own, and I don't like what I see." Babel was almost raving, and Lanier feared he might gun Saigo down right then and there. Not only would that damage the equipment in the room, but Saigo could be vital to getting them out of the Renraku complex alive. Lanier prepared to hold Babel back, but the young man didn't strike out. Instead he scanned the computer console, then turned to Lanier. "Cover him," he said coldly. "I have some work to do." Lanier stared at Babel in shock for a moment. Is this kid totally out of his head? he thought. Why would he trust me after everything that's happened so far? He's either the most naive person I've ever met, or the most confident. Babel met Lanier's questioning look with a steady gaze from his disquieting violet eyes. "I haven't got all night, Mr. Lanier. If you're as smart as your reputation, I can trust you. For now, you need me to get out of here intact and you can make yourself useful by watching this fine corporate citizen here." His voice was bitter with irony. "Besides," he said, his tone becoming as cold as his eyes, "I'd hate to have to try to kill both of you just to make sure there won't be any distractions." Lanier knew Babel meant it, and his respect for him went up another notch. He never imagined that the kid was so ruthless. He might just be able to pull this off after all. Lanier leveled his gun at Saigo and Babel gestured with his. "Up," Lanier said to Saigo, who reluctantly yielded his seat in front of the computer console. Babel took the chair as Lanier waved Saigo over to the far side of the room. Lanier took a position where he could keep an eye simultaneously on both the door and on Saigo and Babel while Babel was making his preparations. Babel flicked his eyes over the displays and monitors of the terminal system, looking over the hardware and software interfaces. He opened a panel in the side of the terminal and produced a thin fiber-optic cable that quietly unreeled from a hidden spool. He brought the cable up behind his ear and slipped the terminator into his jack with a solid click. His eyes rolled back into his head and he seemed to slip into a trance state like in the interrogation room. The monitors and indicators on the terminal began to flicker strangely, showing only a cascade of alphanumeric characters dancing and flowing across them. For a moment Lanier and Saigo watched the technoshaman work in fascination. Lanier had seen Babel use his abilities before, but Saigo could only stare in fascination as he watched Babel access the computer system using nothing more than the power of his altered brain and his built-in headware. The seconds dragged by as Babel sat silently at the console. Lanier turned his attention back to Saigo, who stood near the corner of the room, hands at his sides where Lanier could see them. He could see Saigo's mind racing to come up with a means of turning the situation to his advantage. He also noticed Babel's gun lying on top of the console where he'd left it, forgotten. Lanier made his way over to the console and picked up the gun. Checking to see that the safety was on, he slung it by the strap over his shoulder, keeping the other Uzi trained on Saigo. "Don't be a fool, Lanier," Saigo said quietly. "Give up this madness, and I won't have to tell the Renraku board anything about this." "The way I see it, you're not going to get a chance to tell them anyway." "Are you going to kill me, then? That won't do you any good, you know. There are plenty of other witnesses to your involvement in this affair and, from what Michael has said, they're all still alive. Unless you're going to kill them as well. I'm sure you're ruthless enough to do it." "Don't forget that," Lanier said. "What about him?" Saigo said, with a nod of his head toward Babel. "Do you really think you can trust him? I thought so too, before he betrayed me and the company that made him everything he is. He's mad, Lanier. Whatever the otaku did to him, it's unbalanced his mind. And you're allowing him access to Renraku's central data network. If he isn't killed by the ice protecting the central system, he'll be able to do untold damage. Are you willing to allow that to happen? He's just using you. What if he means to start a conflict with the other corporations? Are you going to just stand by and watch while this… madman does whatever he wants to Renraku? Your stock could be worthless by now." "My stock in Renraku has always been worthless," Lanier said. "Renraku should have been smart enough to stay where it was instead of trying to mess with the top-tier corporations." Saigo raised an eyebrow and a slow smile dawned on his face. "So that's it, eh? You still hold some loyalty to your former employers at Fuchi. I am surprised, Lanier-san. You are not the honorless mercenary I thought you were. My compliments. I originally suspected that your falling out with Villiers was anything but genuine, but you convinced me otherwise. Those attempts on your life made by Fuchi after your appointment to the Renraku board were… most convincing." "They were meant to be." "And Villiers allowed you to give Renraku information on Fuchi operations simply to improve your alibi." "Sacrifice a few pawns to capture the king," Lanier said. He didn't mention that those Fuchi operations had most belonged to the Yamana and Nakatomi families, who were arrayed against Villiers as well. By leaking information on them to Renraku through Lanier, Villiers was killing two birds with one stone. "All to allow you the opportunity to infiltrate Renraku and discover the secret of the rapid growth threatening Fuchi's bottom line. Only you seem to have discovered more than you bargained for." Saigo threw a glance toward Babel, sitting motionless in front of the console. Occasionally, his lips moved, forming silent words and chants. Now and again, a muscle twitched, like a man responding to a dream. What if this kid is crazy? Lanier thought. What's to stop me from simply killing him and Saigo and getting the frag out of here? If I could make it to the garage or the helipad, I might be able to get away clean. I could get sanctuary with Villiers until it's safe or maybe even convince Renraku I helped solve their problem for them. But Lanier had seen enough of the things Babel could do and had to assume the kid was still in control of the building's security and computer systems, one way or another. Glancing over at the security door to the computer room,
he knew there was a real possibility he might never be able to get out of the room without Babel's help. "I have the codes for the security system," Saigo said as if reading Lanier's thoughts. "I could get you out of here with me. You can do with the boy what you want." Lanier considered that offer. It was tempting, but he doubted Saigo would ever let him walk out of here alive, and certainly not with Babel and all his information about the otaku. "I don't think so, Saigo. Babel needed to get back to you for a reason, and I'm willing to bet it's going to hurt Renraku more than it will me. And if I'm wrong and I don't have a shot at getting what he knows, then I'm going to make sure nobody ever gets it."
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?… My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? -Matthew 27:46 Inside the Renraku private local telecom grid, I work my technomancy. Jacked into the terminal inside the Renraku installation, I have access to the central nodes of the company's communications system-all of the important corporate data-processing centers. From outside, the grid is protected by a wall of ice, a virtual glacier so powerful nothing could possibly break through without suffering terrible damage and setting off every alarm in creation. From within, the system is open to anyone with the means, and I have the power of my channels, more power than any cyberdeck could ever offer. I am inside the system, a Trojan horse sent as a gift back to the enemy like the virus I told Lanier about. But I must be cautious, the body of the Renraku network still has defenses to guard it against viruses. On the shimmering black plane of the Matrix I call on my helper spirits to attend me. Rook is already in the system, and comes immediately at my summons, a raven of black chrome, feathers glossy and picked out in remarkable detail. She settles on my shoulder in a chiming flutter of metallic wings and whispers in my ear of the wisdom she had gleaned from the system so far. The security subroutines are tied up in knots the Renraku technicians will need days to undo, but it will be too late before they even begin. Bakemono appears out of the depths of my cloak from behind my leg and scuttles in a crouch, his knuckles dragging along the ground. He looks up at me and awaits my command as I draw my sword from the pouch at my side. It begins as a sphere of liquid silver shimmering in the light within the system, like mercury suspended in zero-gravity. The cool metal ripples at my touch and its form begins to shift and flow. The silvery metal stretches out and assumes the shape of my sacred blade, the embodiment of my will in the electron world. With my magical blade in hand, few of the inhabitants of the Matrix can stand against me. I assess the datapath through the Renraku system and we are off at the speed of light. In a matter of seconds we reach the Chiba grid halfway around the world. It is here, in the heart of the Renraku system, where my destiny will truly begin. I hope Papa Lo is right, and that I will know what I must do when the time comes. The system is a vast virtual palace in the depths of the Matrix, modeled on Osaka Castle in seventeenth-century Japanese style. My travel through the datapath from the Renraku Boston war-room system allows me to bypass the guardians standing on the castle walls to repel intruders. I come along the path of an ally, so the castle gates are opened to admit me. I step through and into the vast courtyard. There is a bustle of activity all around me. Peasants and servants, representing functionary programs, move quickly about their business, operating systems and transporting data from place to place. Couriers depart from all of the gates of the castle to distant places, bearing messages for their masters. Grim-faced samurai stand guard over the courtyard, but none of them react to my presence. Not yet. I gather my cloak around me and follow the path of the messengers back into the castle itself. I walk through the corridors looking for the source of the messages the system is sending out across the world to other Renraku systems. Extending the power of my channels, I can sense the flow of information through the system. Finding the main routing processor is difficult, but not overly so for me. I follow the path I sense through the castle's maze of corridors to reach a paper-walled room in its depths.
A samurai stands guard outside of the room. I pull my cloak close around me and step closer. Taking a small pinch of glittering dust from my pouch and executing a deep bow, I whisper the words to transform the appearance of my persona in the eyes of the guardian, a simple illusion. The samurai's lifeless eyes stare back at me and he steps aside as the door slides open. The room within is Spartan in its simplicity. A nobleman, dressed in a silk kimono showing the Renraku dot-and-waveform logo design sits behind a low desk on the floor. On the desk are writing implements, paper and ink held in delicate porcelain vessels. Two armored samurai stand behind the noble, their faces as impassive as stone. The nobleman produces beautiful calligraphy on the creamy pages of rice paper set before him, then folds them carefully and passes them into the hands of a messenger to take them out of the room. These are the instructions from the central routing processors, directing e-mails, faxes, and other data from Renraku headquarters out to the four corners of the world. Closing the door panel behind me, I approach the nobleman. Without warning, the two samurai spring to life and move toward me. My deception did not fool them, and I extend my senses toward them. They are SKs! Semi-Autonomous Knowbots are near legendary in the Matrix; sophisticated adaptive programs that come near to being artificially intelligent. Renraku created them and has no doubt improved them over the years. They are too sophisticated to be fooled by my illusions and deceptions. If I am to succeed, I have to get past the knowbots without letting them set off an alarm in the system. Already the system is trying to send out word of my intrusion. I send Rook winging away to lead the signal astray and buy me some time. The samurai draw their katanas and step closer, sandaled feet slapping against the tatami mats covering the floor. I flip my cloak aside and show my own sword, the blade gleaming. Bakemono huddles near my left leg, baring his fangs and snarling at the approaching warriors.
Then they are upon me without warning. I raise my sword to block the attack of one samurai while I spin to the side to avoid the slash of the other. The blades swing silently, but there is a clang when the katana strikes my own sword, and I push the blow to the side. "Bake, attack!" I command, and my goblin-spirit leaps out with a fierce cry, slashing and biting at one of the samurai, who is driven back by the sudden fierceness of the onslaught. I concentrate on the other and bring my sword up to block another attack, thrusting toward a possible opening. The samurai blocks my attack. The knowbots are fast, and good at their work. I block another attack to the side, and I can feel the senses of the samurai probing, trying to find a weakness in my defenses. They are confused by me. I am not like any other decker they have ever seen before. It makes them hesitate slightly. They need time to adapt. I make it cost them. I take advantage of the momentary opening to strike past the first samurai's defenses. My flashing sword connects with the samurai's black-lacquered armor in a shower of sparks and leaves a long rip in the knowbot's structure. Flashing code and neon fractals show through the gaps in the knowbot's samurai form, the raw internal organs of the program exposed. There is a cry off to my side as the other samurai pins down Bakemono and slashes his katana through the goblin spirit's form. Bakemono's head comes off cleanly and tumbles across the room before the spirit breaks up and dissolves. I feel a sharp pang from the death of my servitor, who is a part of me. Finished with Bakemono, the undamaged knowbot turns its attention to me. I ward off attacks from the two defensive programs, but they are pressing me back. I cannot hold both of them off for long. The blades whirl around with great ferocity, but I block each one as it comes in at me. The samurai are double-teaming me, working together to wear down my defenses and find some kind of a weakness. I can't allow them to. I concentrate my efforts on the samurai I damaged, hoping for an opportunity. When it comes, I drive the blade of my sword directly through the damaged portion of the knowbot, looking for a vital part of the program to crash. The blade strikes home and the SK stiffens, locked in place like a video image in freeze-frame. The program is crash-locked. But I pay for my success. The other samurai comes in with an upward strike and its sword tears through my cloak, cutting a trail of fire along my side. I cry out and roll to the side, discarding the cloak, which dissolves like smoke. It is useless now and would only slow me down. I feel the burning pain in my side cool rapidly and a strange sensation of wetness spread there. It is like nothing I have felt before. I hold my sword in a double-handed grip as the undamaged samurai circles around me, looking for an opening. I take a moment to glance to my side. Copper fluid drips from the gash in the side of my persona, like metallic blood. It falls and pools on the floor of the room, reminding me of the pool at the base of the great tree. I reach into the pouch at my side with my free hand and draw out a stream of liquid silver that I instantly shape into a gleaming round shield I use to block the next strike of the katana. Pushing up with the shield I give myself an opening to slash at the samurai's stomach. Broken code flows like blood from the ragged gash left by my sword. The samurai strikes again and I block, jumping over another attack, this one aimed at my legs. The attacks are coming faster and faster as the system devotes more processing power to the remaining knowbot. I cannot block them all. The knowbot comes in from the side with blinding speed and slashes my sword arm. I try to bring my shield up, but I can't turn fast enough. The pain is followed quickly by another flow of liquid copper from my wounded shoulder, which joins the growing pool at my feet. As I fall back before the assault of the knowbot, the pool of my electron lifeblood shimmers and ripples. Small tendrils grow out of the pool and begin to reach up toward the ceiling of the room. Something emerges from inside me, nourished by the vital essence of my living persona, taking root in the Renraku system. I am fixed for a moment in fascination
with the beauty of the branches and coppery buds springing up where my blood has fallen, and the knowbot takes the opportunity to strike with machine-driven precision. A razored-edged blade of black chrome transfixes my body, impaling me. I cry out at the terrible pain. If I were flesh and blood, the stroke would surely have killed me. As it is, I crumple to the ground in agony, fire lancing all along my nerves as I drop my shield. Liquid copper gushes from the wound, crawling along the floor to join the growing pool from which springs a small tree, a mere sapling compared to the majesty of the world-tree from my vision. These are the seeds of what I was sent to bring into the Renraku system: the virus program. " You have done well," a voice says to me. "Renraku cannot keep out what is already within." The metallic tree morphs and forms out of the flowing metal, spreading branches out to begin touching the ceiling and sending roots across the floor, digging into the deepest parts of the Renraku computer system. With a savage jerk, the black chrome samurai yanks the blade of its sword out of me, more of my virtual blood adding to the substance of the growing virus. "Help me…" I say, reaching out to the world-tree, the source of my power, my magic, and my enlightenment. "A sacrifice must be made," the voice says, devoid of feeling and cold as the void. "The collapse of your neural network will trigger the final cascade sequence. That which I downloaded into you will in turn be downloaded throughout the Renraku Matrix. That which is without will be within. All will be made one, a part of the greater whole. Renraku will no longer menace the People or endanger the World." "But I will die!" The samurai raised his gleaming blade like an executioner. I couldn't say if it was still under the control of the Renraku system or something else. There was no mercy in the mask-like face. "Irrelevant. You have served your purpose. Obey and fulfill your destiny."
"No," I say quietly. "I have obeyed, I have acted with honor…" "Irrelevant. Survival is paramount. Sacrifice is necessary." "You can't… NO!" The samurai comes in, sword held high in a strike intended to decapitate me as cleanly as it did Bakemono. I twist to the side and thrust upward with my sword at the same time. My blade slides into the armor of the samurai with only a whisper, impaling the knowbot cleanly. I prepare to dodge out of the way of the falling katana, but the strike never comes. The knowbot stands frozen on my sword, crashed. I breath a sigh of relief and let go of my blade, still embedded in the immobile ice program. I take a handful of silver leaves from my pouch and crush them in my fist, sprinkling the glittering dust over the wounds of my living persona. The shimmering metal tree begins to shiver and ripple as I staunch the flow of blood from my wounds. The liquid copper feeding it ceases to flow and the growing virus program begins to collapse in on itself. I remain kneeling on the floor of the room and watch as it begins to liquify again. The coppery liquid begins to lose its color, becoming more and more silver, then the column of liquid seems to look at me without eyes, with an intelligence unable to understand what I have done, why I would not die for something that gave me everything I wanted. It has never before encountered a living person so ungrateful, because all of its other children are just that: children who know no other life, no other way. It looks at me for what seems like a very long time, then I hear the voice speak for the last time. "Download aborted. Secondary protocols engaged." The column of quicksilver twists like a water spout and leaps into the inkwell on the desk where the Japanese nobleman continues to placidly write his elegant dispatches as he has throughout the whole combat with his samurai guards. The last of the liquid flows into the dark well and disappears without a ripple. The nobleman dips his quill into the inkwell and continues writing his dispatches, but the bold, perfectly formed calligraphy is slightly different-not the original words sent out by the Renraku executives and managers, but information dictated by the virus implanted deep in the Renraku system. The messengers take the dispatches penned by the nobleman and carry them quickly to their destinations. As they do so, the information contained in those messages becomes a part of programs in other parts of the Renraku system, invisibly attaching itself to them and spreading outward to more and more parts of the system, carried around the world at the speed of light over Renraku's network. As the virus spreads, things begin to happen throughout the Renraku Systems computer network. Emails are sent out to certain project and division managers using forged ident codes and priority passwords, telling them the Corporate Court is going to make an inspection of Renraku's facilities for their investigation. They order those managers to destroy certain "sensitive materials" to prevent them from being seen, implying that their jobs, their positions within the Renraku corporate "family," are in danger if they do not comply. Data concerning those projects will be removed from the Renraku system by order of the board of directors and archived secretly. All information about the procedure will be eliminated, including the original memos. First in Chiba and other Renraku facilities in Japan, then elsewhere in the world, physical evidence and prototypes of certain Renraku research projects are destroyed to avoid a Corporate Court investigation, and numerous managers and directors are assured that their jobs will be safe, knowing nothing of the investigators to come when this is all over. All research information pertaining to the otaku and their abilities begins to disappear from Renraku-controlled systems around the world. Datastores of urban legend and lore collected by Renraku researchers are deleted when any references to the otaku are found. Research into neurobiology and brain-computer interface based on the existence of the otaku is no more. Renraku emails and news posts about the otaku vanish. Even the word "otaku" disappears from the online dictionaries and encyclopedias maintained by Renraku Corporation. In protected datastores in Renraku's headquarters, the virus finds information on technology Renraku acquired from an elven inventor, which requires the skills of the otaku to function fully. In a matter of minutes, the gifts of an elf named Leonardo are deleted from the Renraku system. All of the designs, schematics, specifications, and information gained by Renraku technicians from Leonardo's technology disappear from the corporate databases. Some of the database archives are protected and backed up, but the virus waits dormant in the system. Any backups not eliminated by management on what they believe to be the orders of their superiors will be erased any time Renraku tries to connect them to the main system. The virus is virulent and has an amazing survival instinct. It hides itself in nooks and crannies throughout the Renraku system, surviving off of spare processing cycles and waiting for more targets to appear for it to eliminate. If Renraku tries to gather information on the otaku again, it will be purged from their system. If another corporation goes into the Renraku system looking for information on the otaku, they will be infected as well. It will take Renraku a long, long time to eliminate the virus. It will be some time before Renraku even realizes what has happened, and by then the otaku data will be long gone. The secrets of the People of the Matrix will be safe from Renraku and the other megacorporations, while the superior Matrix technology Renraku is using to shield their systems from outside intrusion will have gone the way of the dinosaur. Renraku will be busy for some time replacing their computer system defenses and rebuilding their datawalls to protect themselves from the other megacorporations and deckers who will take advantage of their sudden weakness. They will never know how close Renraku's entire system came to being subverted, that the virus was only the least of the goals I was supposed to die to accomplish, the only one my survival permitted.
I watch the progress of the virus through the system until it reaches the point where there is no way Renraku can stop it, short of shutting down their entire network. Renraku will not commit financial suicide to protect the information from a few secret projects. Like a virus, a megacorporation's most important drive is to survive and prosper until the next day… whatever the cost, no matter if small things have to be sacrificed. Renraku will accept the losses they suffer and move on. As must I. The shimmering, glorious tree of knowledge is no more. Though I survived, my destiny in its eyes is fulfilled. I am no more than another piece of useless data. No longer one of the People and no longer a part of its plan. I call Rook to me and send her out through the Renraku system using the name Saigo and others have spoken to me, the name remaining in the depth of my being. In an instant, the systems of the Renraku network produce a glittering cluster of alphanumerics hovering in front of me, a datafile containing all of the information left in the Matrix on Michael Bishop, an employee of Renraku Computer Systems. The power of the Deep Resonance has removed all other evidence of Bishop from the Matrix, except for the systems of Renraku, shielded by the most sophisticated intrusion countermeasures ever created. The same protection I was needed to overcome. I look at the hovering file and all of the information it represents. My birth in a company hospital, my education in a company school, my appointment to MIT amp;T on a corporate scholarship. An entire life lived within the confines of the company. A life I ended; first to follow the will of the company and then to follow the will of something I thought was deeper and more meaningful. I cup the file in my hands and it becomes fluid, allowing me to pour the information of the file into my own being. I drink in the data of my life and store it in the headware Renraku gave me to prepare me for the mission that changed my entire existence. The details of my life are my own and no one else's. So they will remain. Michael Bishop is gone from the Matrix, and now so will Babel be. I have died a second time and sit for a moment without a name or a purpose; a true Ghost in the Machine. I think for a moment about what I will do, then I call Rook back to my side and whisper to her what I need done.
: Your eye on the shadows All the latest news bits and bytes from the Shadowland BBS Um, Cap, everyone, I think something's going on all right. There's something screwy going on with Renraku. There's a flurry of activity in RenrakuNet: emails, faxes, and messages going out like gangbusters. Far as I know, there's still no word from the Corporate Court, so this could be Renraku preparing for a first strike of some kind. Fuchi hasn 't reacted yet, but this is still going down as I speak. They may not have had time yet. Things could be about to go. Anybody out there got any Renraku or Fuchi stock? You might want to consider your options. ›The Chromed Accountant "It's all about Dollars and Sense " In the Renraku computer center, Lanier kept his gun trained on Saigo and waited as the seconds ticked by in agonizing silence. There was not a peep from Babel once he jacked into the computer system, and Lanier was forced to wonder how long the kid's techno-wizardry would keep any alarms they might have triggered silent, or how long Dr. Westcott's last spell would keep the staff in the lab unconscious. Were they going to have time to get out of the facility? Was Babel even planning to leave? Lanier couldn't be sure. He didn't think the kid was suicidal, but the near-fanaticism he'd seen in Babel's eyes and heard in his voice when he spoke of his "destiny" made Lanier wonder. "What are you going to do if he never comes out of there?" Saigo asked, echoing Lanier's concerns.
Lanier told himself he'd have to make a better effort to keep his thoughts off his face. The last thing he wanted to do was telegraph his concerns to a company man like Saigo. "I still have you to get me out of here," Lanier said. That was certainly true. Saigo was in charge of the place and would make an effective hostage as well as a useful source of information. Unlike Babel, Lanier knew that a man like Saigo would put his own survival ahead of company loyalty if push came to shove. If threatened sufficiently, Saigo would provide the leverage needed to get out of the facility, or so Lanier hoped. "You cannot seriously think you will be able to get away with this," Saigo said. He seemed to want to keep Lanier talking. Probably still looking for his opportunity, Lanier thought. "I've gotten away with things a lot harder than this." "But always on your own," Saigo responded. "Never with a wild card like him in the mix." He nodded toward Babel. "You certainly didn't plan on this. You're just making this up as you go." "Careful I don't ad lib something that could shorten your life, Saigo… what the?" Just then the lights in the computer room went from fluorescent blue-white to deep red emergency lighting and a WARNING sign flashed from every computer monitor in the room. A cry of pain came from in front of the computer terminals. Lanier looked over at Babel to see him convulse suddenly in his chair, all of his muscles stiffening, as blood began to drip from his nose. It was only a momentary glance, but long enough for Saigo to act. He lunged at Lanier, who caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back to meet the rush a moment too late. Saigo went for Lanier's gun, but Lanier twisted to the side. Saigo's charge slammed Lanier against the wall, and the air rushed out of his lungs with a whoosh. A strong hand gripped his wrist and tried to wrestle the gun away from him while Lanier struggled to move his gun-hand to get a shot at Saigo, difficult in the close melee.
Obviously Saigo had some combat training and enhancements. He was as quick as Lanier, but Lanier was a veteran of years in the military, even if his skills were years out of practice. He strained against Saigo's grip as the two of them wrestled for control of the gun. Babel twitched in front of the computer console, his head snapping from side to side and his lips forming silent words, oblivious to the conflict going on behind him. Saigo hooked a leg behind Lanier's knee, which sent the two of them crashing to the floor. Lanier lost his grip on the Uzi and it went skittering across the floor, out of reach. The other Uzi-III, Babel's gun, was lying under Lanier where he couldn't reach it. Instead of going for the fallen gun, which would have given Lanier a chance to reach his other weapon, Saigo tried to throttle Lanier and pin him down. His face was contorted with anger as he clawed at Lanier's throat. Lanier got a firm grip on the front of Saigo's jacket and pulled hard with a flip of his legs to pull him over his head and send him crashing onto the floor. Saigo landed near the fallen gun, while Lanier reached for the other gun, cursing his poor aim. By now Saigo had snatched up the Uzi on the floor and trained it on Lanier. Lanier stopped dead-still and kept his hands where they were as Saigo covered him. He wouldn't be able to reach his weapon before Saigo shot him. He didn't know for certain how good Saigo was with a gun, but from what he'd seen so far, he had to assume it was pretty good. At such close range, with a burst-fire weapon like the Uzi, skill didn't matter much. "Get up… slowly," Saigo said in a flat tone. Lanier moved to comply, keeping his hands visible as he slid to one knee. There was a faint, metallic "snick," and Saigo started to turn toward the sound as a mono-edged blade erupted from his chest, carrying a dark coating of blood colored a glossy black in the red light of the room. Saigo made a small noise and looked down at the curved spur protruding from his chest with an expression of complete shock and surprise.
Then his knees gave way and he slowly crumpled to the floor, the gun clattering from nerveless fingers. Babel stood over his teacher's body, blood flowing from his nose, ears, and eyes like red-black war paint in the weird light. He looked down at Saigo for a moment with terrible sadness in his eyes, then silently retracted the spur into his arm and bent to pick up the gun. He turned toward Lanier, who was still in a crouch on the floor. Babel looked different to Lanier. The fanatical fire was doused, replaced by an air of great weariness as if the whole heaviness of the world rested on his shoulders. "You should have left my gun where I could have reached it," Babel said. "Still don't trust me?" "Something like that," Lanier said, looking from the fallen Saigo back up to Babel's face. Babel met his eyes for a moment, and Lanier had to look away from the bleakness reflected there. He stood up and brushed off his hands, straightening his suit jacket. He glanced down at Saigo again. "Too bad you had to kill him. He could have been our ticket out of here." Babel shook his head and spoke in a flat, controlled tone. "I already have our ticket out of here. Saigo-ran would have only gotten in the way. Sacrifices have to be made." Babel led Lanier out of the computer room to a bank of elevators. The doors of one of the elevators opened at Babel's approach. There was still no sign of any activity in the complex. Everything was as quiet as the grave. Lanier expected a Renraku strike team of elite Red Samurai to show up any minute, but there was nothing. "It will be some time before Renraku figures out exactly what's happening," Babel said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. "What is happening?" Lanier asked. "What did you do in the system?" "Put an end to Renraku's plans to investigate the People of the Matrix," Babel replied gravely. "I implanted a virus into the central Renraku network that is being transmitted to their systems all over the world. It will erase any trace of the data they've collected on us so far and make future attempts to gather information on us… difficult. It will eventually spread to other corporate systems with which Renraku interacts and remove any data they might have as well." "That impossible," Lanier scoffed. "There's no virus in the world that sophisticated. How could you have created something like that?" "I never said I created it. I only implanted it. The virus was given to me, a gift you might say." Babel's voice was heavy with irony. "I was nothing more than the carrier, the soldier doing as I was told." "Well, Renraku will figure things out soon enough and come looking. How are we going to get out of here before then? And why are we going up instead of down to the parking garage?" Babel smiled faintly. "You'll see." The elevator doors opened out onto the roof of the complex. The night air over the Boston sprawl was cool, and a gentle breeze blew across the open rooftop. Lanier could see that they were in the downtown area not far from the Renraku Boston headquarters. A set of bright lights drew closer and closer to the rooftop until Lanier could clearly make out that they were from a helicopter, a Hughes Stallion that had by now become quite familiar. "I've arranged us some transportation," Babel said. "They'll take me back to the Rox and then take you anywhere in the plex you want to go. Saigo had a fairly extensive slush fund for his project, so I didn't think he'd mind if I used some of it to take care of expenses. I'm paying the bills, so I would recommend against trying anything foolish…" Lanier raised his eyebrows slightly. "What? Don't trust me?" "Something like that," Babel said. "In fact, I'm not sure I trust anyone." "Good idea," Lanier said. "All I wanted from you was a way to get at Renraku. You did that well enough. I have bigger fish to fry than you and your… people."
"Fine," was all Babel had to say. Lanier fell silent and watched the helicopter descend. It touched down on the rooftop smoothly, and the side door slid open. As Babel and Lanier went out to meet it, Lanier saw a familiar tusked face. "Well, well, well," Hammer said. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise?" The ork calmly held his hand-cannon leveled at the two of them, and Lanier thought for a moment that he'd been double-crossed. "When word came through that Saigo wanted to extend our contract, I wasn't expecting to see you two again." "That's because Saigo didn't call you," Babel said. "I did." The ork stared at him for a moment and then broke into a howl of booming laughter. "Haw! That's a good one, kid." Babel seemed not at all upset by the ork's manner, his face an emotionless mask. "Code word: Judas," he said. "I'm the contact you were told to expect. The nuyen I offered is in an offshore escrow. I'll give you the codes to access it when we get where we're going." Hammer's mirth disappeared, replaced by surprise, which was just as quickly replaced with a broad smile again. "Well, I'll be damned. Say, chummer, anyone who can put something like that over on Renraku and clear out in one night is worth giving a ride, especially at the prices we're charging. Get in." Babel and Lanier climbed aboard the chopper, which moments later was rising up from the rooftop of the Renraku building and into the sky over the metroplex. Babel turned to Hammer. "I arranged for a flight plan to be entered into the Renraku computers that should give us clearance, provided you stick to the route I sent you." The ork nodded and made his way up to the cockpit to take the co-pilot's seat next to Val, leaving Babel and Lanier alone in the cabin. The two were silent for a moment, looking out at the lights of the metroplex. Then Lanier spoke again.
"You said you were given the virus you used on Renraku? By whom?" Babel shrugged as he stared out the window at the city lights. "Weren't you listening to all of those interrogations, Lanier?" he said. "It was the Matrix gave it to me. All living things have a need to survive and will act when their survival is threatened. What do you think would happen to the Matrix if the megacorporations discover the secrets of technomancy? It would be open war, which could destroy the Matrix. It doesn't want that." "Are you saying the Matrix is intelligent? I can't believe that." "Believe what you like." Babel smiled wearily. "It doesn't matter either way. I know I encountered a vast… 'intelligence' is the only word I can give it, during my initiation, and it told me I had to do this to protect the technomancers from being exploited by the megacorps. Or worse yet, turned into lab rats so the corps could figure out how our abilities worked. What I didn't know was that this 'intelligence' was just as manipulative as the megacorps, if not more. It's vast, Lanier, more than any of us can imagine. We're nothing to it, like ants crawling in and around its home. To be used as it wants, then stepped on." "What are you going to do now?" Lanier asked. "Renraku is going to want your head." "They have to find me first," Babel said. "I'm going to go on walkabout for a while. I have a lot to think about. The ancient people believed you could find yourself out on the road. There's a lot more to the world than just Boston, and I've got a little 'severance pay' from Renraku stashed away. Traveling isn't all that hard when you know the right paths." "Why not come to work for me? I could certainly use you." "Like Renraku used me? Like it used me? I don't think so. I'm through with being used. I'm tired of it. All I ever wanted was to have magic in my life. Now I've got some, but it didn't come cheap. I'm not going to work for you or Fuchi or anyone except on my terms. I've got my freedom, and I mean to hold on to it." "But you have nothing to show for all this. Just some money, and that's not going to last forever." "On the contrary, I have a whole world to explore. Two whole worlds, in fact. I have the freedom of being nothing more than a ghost, a blank, a shadow. Allied to no one." The chopper pilot set down in a cleared lot in the Rox, and Babel hopped out. He backed away from the helicopter and smiled at Lanier through the streaks of blood on his face, pushing aside his dark hair in the wash of the helicopter's rotors. "I have my freedom!" Babel called out. "Do you?" Lanier looked the young man in the eyes for a moment, then reached out and shook his hand. "Good luck, Babel." The technoshaman shook his head. "No, not Babel. Not Michael. Renraku made Michael Bishop, and he's dead. The Matrix made Babel and now he's gone too. I'm a freelance, a sell-sword. If you need a name for me… Ronin is as good as any." Lanier slid the door shut, and the chopper rose into the night. Ronin, the masterless samurai, warrior of the Matrix, stood and watched them go, then disappeared into the shadows of the urban jungle.
Judge not, that ye be not judged. -Matthew 7:1 The Corporate Court reconvened at the appointed time, the justices filing into the central chamber of the Zurich-Orbital to take their places at the bench. Lynn Osborne was the last to enter this time, and took her seat at the bench with an air of calm and dignity. Napoli was sitting opposite her, looking smugly confident of the whole affair being settled in his favor. Osborne didn't allow any of what she was feeling to show on her face. Let Paco think he had the upper hand for a little while. It would make things all the more interesting. Once Lynn Osborne had taken her place and the Rotunda was sealed, Chief Justice Priault picked up his gavel and rapped it twice on the bench, calling the court to order. All eyes turned to Osborne as she rose slightly from her position, calling up the information beamed to her from Fuchi HQ in New York only a short time before the hearing resumed. She took a second to compose herself, letting the silence in the courtroom linger a moment longer than was necessary. "Mr. Chief Justice, fellow Justices," she began. "I must ask your indulgence and apologize for taking up the time of the Corporate Court, but I find I must withdraw Fuchi's allegations against Renraku Computer Systems and ask that this case be dismissed." The chamber broke into a dense murmur of conversation between the justices, and computer information flashed on the consoles in front of them as they consulted the formal documentation Osborne provided along with her statement. Napoli leaned back in his place and almost glowed with triumph. He seemed a trifle disappointed that she hadn't fought it out with him. Priault rapped his gavel on the bench several times for silence. "Order, the Court will come to order," he said. When the other justices had quieted down, Priault turned to Osborne. "Justice Osborne, may we have an explanation? The Corporate Court has invested considerable time and expense on this matter." "That is true, your Honor," Osborne replied. "And Fuchi thanks the court for its indulgence. New evidence has come to light requiring that we withdraw our allegations." Napoli's look of triumph turned to one of curiosity. As Villiers had guessed in his communique, Napoli-and Renraku -weren't yet aware of what had happened. Osborne went on speaking. "It seems that Miles Larder, formerly an employee of Fuchi Industrial Electronics and a member of the Renraku Board of Directors, was responsible for the security breaches we attributed to Renraku, and Mr. Lanier alone was the source of the information providing Renraku with product advancements similar to developments in progress at Fuchi. Mr. Lanier has chosen to surrender himself to Fuchi authorities and has confessed to directing operations against us as part of an effort to test our Matrix security measures. Fuchi has accepted Mr. Lanier 's explanation of the events, and he wishes to make reparations for involving the Corporate Court unintentionally." "Just a minute," Napoli said, finding his voice. "Miles Lanier is a major stockholder in Renraku Computer Systems. Are you saying he has continued to work for Fuchi during this time? That's a conflict of interest! Mr. Lanier signed numerous documents stating that he had terminated all of his associations with Fuchi Industrial Electronics." "That's correct," Osborne replied crisply. "It seems his testing of Fuchi security measures from the outside was entirely Mr. Lanier's idea. He then presented his findings to Fuchi executives. I understand they were most… illuminating." "And Fuchi is currently holding one of Renraku's corporate citizens? Mr. Chief Justice, how can this outrage even be-" Osborne cut in before Napoli could finish. "No longer a Renraku corporate citizen, Justice Napoli. Mr. Lanier has offered to sell his shares of Renraku stock to the Zurich Gemeinschaft Bank, at slightly under current market value." Napoli's jaw dropped at the announcement, which brought raised eyebrows from many of the other justices. By selling his shares, Lanier was cutting his ties with Renraku. By selling them to the ZGB, he was effectively giving control of those shares to the Corporate Court, giving them additional leverage over Renraku. And by selling the shares at below market value, Lanier would certainly trigger concerns about Renraku's stability and growth on the world markets, causing the corporation's stock values to drop for a while until Renraku tried to assuage the fears of its stockholders. Renraku's rapid growth would be brought to a shrieking halt while they cleaned up the mess, allowing the other megacorporations time to get their own affairs in order and close the gap behind Renraku's lead. All in all it was an elegant solution requiring the Corporate Court to do nothing but accept it. Osborne looked around the courtroom and could see the other justices slowly nodding to themselves or tapping commands into their consoles. There was no doubt they would accept a solution that served them all so well. Renraku would be outvoted and outnumbered, with no choice but to accept Lanier's resignation from the board as gracefully as possible. But Napoli wasn't willing to give up just yet. "There is still the matter of Miles Lanier making use of Renraku resources to carry out his activities," he said. "He has to answer to the Renraku board for that. I request he be turned over to us until his activities can be more fully determined and Renraku can decide on any punishment for Lanier's illegal activities." Osborne cleared her throat. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Your Honor, Justice Napoli. Since Mr. Lanier's activities were directed at Fuchi, his disposition falls under our jurisdiction, according to the accords of this Court. Fuchi has chosen to retain custody of Mr. Lanier and will compensate Renraku for any corporate resources used by Lanier during his time with them. I'm sure Renraku's board of directors will find our offer of compensation fair, and I would ask that the Court permit us to negotiate with Renraku in good faith to resolve this matter without taking up any more of the court's valuable time." Osborne smiled at Napoli in triumph. Just wait until he hears from Renraku what's been going on planetside. Renraku is going to have more things to worry about than Miles Lanier by tomorrow. There are going to be a lot of sleepless executives in Renraku-land tonight, and Paco will be one of them. Priault cleared his throat and rapped his gavel on the bench, his composure unshaken by the turn of events. He acted like everything was turning out just as he'd expected. "We have before us a motion to adjourn this matter to allow the parties to negotiate a settlement out of court. Any discussion?" The other justices remained silent, and Napoli glowered but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. There was no point in prolonging the matter until he could get all of the facts, and Osborne knew he would be very surprised when he finally did. "Very well," Priault said. "We will vote on this matter." The justices entered their votes, which were instantly tabulated. It was unanimous in favor of Fuchi and Renraku resolving the whole matter quietly behind the scenes. Even Napoli voted for it. The Zurich Bank would gain a fair chunk of Renraku stock and additional influence on the board while Fuchi would retain custody of Lanier. The court could now return its attention toward maintaining the delicate balance of power between the member corporations while Fuchi and Renraku worked out their differences. This isn't over by a long shot, Osborne thought as Priault dismissed the court and the justices began to file out. Renraku isn 't going to let this one go, and Fuchi has problems of our own. She looked over to where a slightly confused David Hague gave her a quizzical look before leaving the courtroom, no doubt eager to get off the station and back on solid ground. Sorry, David, but I didn 't have time to let you in on all of the facts, and I wouldn 't have even had I had the time. From what Villiers tells me, your Japanese friends are going to be as much trouble to us as Renraku. And if push comes to shove, he's not entirely convinced you can be trusted, and neither am I. As Priault left the courtroom, Osborne was now alone in the Rotunda. She couldn't help but wonder what was next. Fuchi and Renraku would deal with their differences outside of the court, but the Corporate Court existed to help negotiate the differences between the megacorporations because direct conflict could lead to open warfare. If Fuchi and Renraku's troubles escalated, they could flare up into a conflict the court could never prevent in time, not without being dragged into it. There was trouble on the horizon down on Earth, which made Osborne that much gladder she was remaining on board Zurich-Orbital. Better to serve in Heaven than reign in Hell, she thought, reversing the familiar quote. She would leave the Hell of the surface world to people who already fallen from grace, the shadowrunners and the black operatives who worked in the dirty cracks between the corporations. After all, wasn't that what they were for?
I am brother to dragons and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat. -Job 30:29-30 In a secret sanctuary in Africa, hidden from the eyes of the world by some of the most sophisticated computer technology known to exist, a pact was being concluded between beings of great power and influence. Leonardo, master of the place, sat comfortably in a favorite chair behind a magnificently carved wooden desk that would have commanded a small fortune on the open market if any collectors of antiquities knew it existed. Leonardo had once feared he would be forced to sell his precious collection of art and antiques to serve his plans, but his dealings with Renraku had made it unnecessary to part with any of his favorite treasures. The corporation was more than willing to give him billions in exchange for mere scraps and crumbs of the technology Leonardo had at his command. He was at ease here in his stronghold, and his simple garments showed their quality in the rich texture of the fabrics and the delicate artistry of the stitching. They were made from natural materials worked by hand, worth enough to feed a family in the Rox for a year or more. He slouched a bit in his chair, elbows resting on the table in front of him and fingers steepled in front of his face while he thought. Across the table, Leonardo's guest finished examining his collection of drawings and diagrams. She was a feast to his artistic eye. Her features were classic and regal, with a long neck and a face composed of planes and angles, sharp cheekbones and delicately pointed chin. Her hair was unbound and flowed like an auburn waterfall nearly to her waist, and her lips were a delicate shade of cinnamon, while the same spicy scent lingered in the air around her. The entire picture nearly demanded a portrait or a statue to capture her sublime beauty, all the more amazing because Leonardo knew it was only an illusion. "Well?" he asked after a long moment of silence. The woman looked up from her examinations. The only flaw in her image was the eyes. They were a deep amber, like no human or elven eyes created by nature. They were more like the flat yellow eyes of a reptile, but where a reptile's eyes were cold, hers were warm, burning with a powerful fire deep inside. Leonardo found those eyes fascinating although he suspected others would find them disquieting. "Your plans seem to be going well," she said, her tone noncommittal. But Leonardo could see she was intrigued. He had successfully baited the hook. All that remained was to draw in his catch. He acknowledged the compliment with a slight incline of his head. "The work is difficult," he said, "but not as much as it once was. I have made many, many improvements on the original crude designs over the years. So many that magic is hardly needed except for the most basic and most delicate work. The power of machines and programming provides the rest." "Impressive. And what of the inhabitants of your masterpiece?" "That, too, is progressing," he said. "I have been combing the Matrix and compiling information on possible candidates for my community. The best and brightest of humanity will be gathered under the aegis of my shelter when the time comes." "It must be difficult to choose only a few to survive and leave the rest to their fate," his guest responded.
Leonardo found it a strange thing for her to say. It was almost… compassionate. "It is, but some sacrifices need to be made. These are dangerous times." The woman nodded sagely. "True. I am still not certain your predictions are accurate," she said. "I have heard whispers in the spirit world telling that the danger you fear may be past for a long time to come, rumors about a great magic to keep the cycle on its natural course." That statement was more of what Leonardo expected. The arrogance, the certainty that no one like himself could be right when she had not noticed the danger. "I am certain, dear lady," Leonard said with a note of irony at the title he offered her. "And if I am wrong, then it is only a matter of time. One cannot cheat Fate, as we both well know." "True. What you propose has merit," she said. "I have recently considered what role I am to play in this world, or what role Fate has cast me in, perhaps. The death of Dunkelzahn and his legacy to the world have given me much to consider. You and I are rare among our kind, Leonardo, two of the few who are interested in the welfare of others. You through your work and me through mine. I hope we might be able to offer more than shelter from the storm to those in need of our gifts." "Then we have reached an historic moment," Leonardo said, rising from his chair. The woman rose also, taller even than the tall and willowy elf. "Yes. We can set aside the differences between our peoples and work together for a mutual cause. It is time the ways of the past were considered in light of the future." The woman touched her fingers to her chest just above her heart, and Leonardo returned the gesture. "Will you join me in a glass of alamestra to celebrate our new alliance, Lady?" he asked as he poured some of the iridescent liquor into a crystal goblet. The woman smiled and shook her head. "No. I must return to my own affairs across the sea. Your cousins near my domain have been restive of late and I do not like the idea of being away for long, with the elves of Tir Tairngire
ratting their sabers. In the future, it will be best if we communicate through the Matrix." "That is my preference as well," Leonardo said with a smile. "You can be assured of complete privacy with my network at our disposal. There will be no… unfortunate security breaches as there have been in the past with others." "Indeed?" the woman said with raised brows. "And here I had thought you responsible for them, oh, Master of the Matrix." "Not I, fair lady," he said with a sweeping bow. "I suspect one of the Children of the Matrix." "The otaku? I didn't think them clever enough. But no matter. I look forward to our next meeting, Leonardo." "As do I, Hestaby." Leonardo touched his fingers to his chest again, and Hestaby returned the gesture before drawing the folds of her robe around her. He then tapped a hidden control panel on the surface of the antique desk, and his servant Salai appeared at the door of the chamber. "Yes, Master?" Salai said. "Please escort the Lady Hestaby out, Salai, then I will have some instructions for you." The handsome young man bowed deeply and left the chamber with the dragon-lady, leaving Leonardo alone with his thoughts. His plans were going well. The scraps of advanced technology he fed to his corporate lapdog Renraku had them thoroughly in his power. They had foolishly managed to lose the toys he'd entrusted to them and were now banging on his door with their hands outstretched, begging for more. And Leonardo planned to give them more once he had secured his plans for the future. The great shelter would be prepared for the coming of the Enemy, and the best and brightest of metahumanity would survive, with Leonardo as their savior. He would even have the pleasure of making an alliance with an old enemy to further the cause. He took a long draught of the alamestra, savoring its spicy taste for a moment before allowing the warmth of the liquor to spread throughout his body. He downed the rest of the glass quickly and poured himself another. He was in the mood for a celebration. Perhaps he would gave Salai other instructions once his assistant finished escorting Hestaby out of the complex, but for now he was content to bask in the glow of his own success. The elf's thoughts were interrupted by movement here in his private chambers. A figure materialized out of the shadows in the far corner of the room, cloaked in those same shadows to appear as little more than a silhouette. Leonardo turned sharply to face the strange intruder. "Who are you?" he demanded. There were few beings in the world who could enter his personal sanctum unbidden and Leonardo's mind began working through the list of possibilities. "Why, Leonardo?" the figure said in a deep voice. "Why have you turned your back on the traditions and purpose of your people to pursue this mad course? Why have you interfered in affairs you would have done well to stay out of?" "I knew this day would come," Leonardo said. "That there would be those who would object to my plans. I have done only what was necessary. They are coming. They are always coming, and there is nothing we can do to prevent it. It is the cycle of nature. When they come, the world will be destroyed and everything slowly built back up over the millennia will be swept away like dust by a giant hand. All that lives will be devoured to feed their endless hunger, or twisted and tortured to create new delicacies of pain to satisfy their jaded palettes." His voice trembled as he recalled those same tortures inflicted on a world he once knew, a world long dead. The shadowy stranger was unmoved by the tirade. "You have gone too far. You have revealed too much. Your obsession with the life of Da Vinci has gone past fondness into madness." "No!" Leonardo shouted. "DaVinci was brilliant and accomplished more in a mortal life span than others have done in a thousand times that. It is only fitting to acknowledge such a brilliant lifetime when others consider him no more than another brief life among the herd." "I might have been able to forgive your various… eccentricities, Leonardo. Your playing at savior with humanity, your delusions of artistic greatness, your uneven temper, and your grudge against a religion you consider corrupt. I have tolerated them before. But you have interfered with me, and that, I cannot forgive." "Forgive?" Leonardo said. "What do I need of your forgiveness? I am master here. You can do nothing against me!" He paused for a moment and smiled. "Have you come by yourself or did they send you to kill me? Who was it, Aithne? Lugh? All of the High Princes of Tir Tairngire together? No matter. You can take their dreams of a new elven nation and play at empire-building all you want. You have no chance of overcoming the resources I have at my command here. This is my place of power. Show yourself to me before I see you die." The intruder stepped closer and Leonardo prepared for an attack that did not come. The figure only laughed. "The Princes of Tir Tairngire do not command me. I command them. Always must I work to keep my foolish children under control." The figure drew aside the veil of shadow to reveal the features of a man with pale golden eyes and long, white hair swept back from a high forehead above a face whose features seemed carved from stone. They were features Leonardo knew well, even as he knew the name that escaped unbidden from his lips, no more than a whisper. "Lofwyr…" "Yes, Lofwyr. And I have not appeared here to kill you, little elf," the great dragon continued. "Not all of us strike with tooth and claw, Leonardo, and the venom of my kind is still the most potent there is." Leonardo felt a terrible chill overtaking his limbs, which began to tremble at the dragon's words. He looked down at the glass of alamestra still in his hand and hurled it at Lofwyr with a cry of rage. The goblet shattered in the air before striking the regal form, splattering shimmering rainbow liquor across the floor. Lofwyr was unmoved. Leonardo tried to call upon the magical powers at his command to save himself, to strike at his enemy, to call for help, but there was nothing. No power flowed at his command. No magic came forth to strike down the arrogant dragon-lord. The stone-cold face only gave a faint smile at his struggles. "Salai," Leonardo called out in a croaking voice as his throat began to tighten. His sophisticated communications system, the most advanced in the world, failed to respond and the magical poison robbed him of any power save the ability to stare in horror at the creature who had done the unthinkable: struck Leonardo down in his own stronghold. Lofwyr's reptilian eyes were flat and cold as Leonardo fell to his knees with a gasp of pain. "You were always one of my favorites, Leonardo. I enjoyed your wit and your imagination once, but you have gotten above yourself. Many of you have. Others have tolerated this show of rebellion and I have gone along with their wishes, but only so far. Your little games intruded upon the operations of Saeder-Krupp, my corporation. I am Lofwyr, and my plans are not to be tampered with by such as you. "The theft of the warhead was your first mistake. You were a fool to imagine I would not take notice of a rogue nuclear weapon. No matter that you wished only to paint it with the Papal Seal and convince a ragtag band of a nonexistent conspiracy. As if the Catholic Church fought its battle with nuclear weapons in place of words and ideas. I was almost prepared to overlook that bit of foolishness. "But your second mistake was dealing with Renraku, placing yourself in my game. I was forced to expend some effort to correct the… imbalance your interference caused. As it is, the ripples are already spreading. The horns of war will sound and I will have to waste valuable time protecting what I have built from being brought down. I am most disappointed." The dragon-lord turned away from the elf and glided across the chamber to the antique desk. Lying paralyzed on the floor, Leonardo heard only the gentle tapping of fingers on the surface of the desk, covered with a touch-sensitive polymer coating of Leonardo's design, a direct link into the sanctuary's computer system. There was a chime of acknowledgment from the system, and Lofwyr tapped the desktop once more, starting a core dump through the communication system of Leonardo's secret stronghold. "Your lesson in humility has begun, my apprentice," Lofwyr said. "I hope you and your kind will learn the perils of defying your betters this time." Without another word, Lofwyr turned and melted back into the shadows of the room. Leonardo heard the distant rustling of leathery wings as Lofwyr assumed his true form, then the sound of screams and roaring flames as the dragon began destroying the elf's secret headquarters and the stockpiles of technology and lore hidden there. All of the great artworks and breakthroughs he had created would be reduced to ashes, save for anything Lofwyr decided to loot for himself. The great work would never be completed and humanity would be doomed by the arrogance of a dragon. As the light in the room blurred and faded, Leonardo looked up into the eye of one of the hidden security cameras and thought he saw someone, or something, looking back at him before the monitor light on the camera winked out and Leonardo's world turned into blackness.
For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? -Mark 8:36 Miles Lanier sat looking out the window of his office in the Fuchi Industrial Electronics headquarters in New York City. Known as The Black Towers, the six spires of the complex rose high above the city skyline, offering a view of the city and the distant Jersey shore. Lanier watched the shimmering lights of the sprawl and considered the lives of the millions of people teeming in its streets and the millions more in other metroplexes where the drama between the corporate giants straddling the world was played out on a daily basis. One game ended while elsewhere another one was just beginning. Babel… no, Ronin had been as good as his word. The Hammermen had taken Lanier to another Fuchi facility in Boston where he was able to use the priority codes he and Villiers had arranged months ago to access and arrange for transportation to New York. His arrival was followed by an in-depth briefing with Villiers and the CEO's top staff, those who could be trusted, at any rate. Villiers listened to Lanier's entire story about the Renraku operation to gain access to the secrets of the otaku. About how Babel, not Ronin, had turned against his former employers and put an end to the otaku project, which appeared to have damaged many Renraku cutting-edge technologies being readied for the marketplace. Speculation was rife among the Fuchi execs whether or not Renraku had acquired some of those developments from the otaku and whether they might have been wiped out by the virus by accident. Lanier voiced the opinion that the mysterious "Leonardo" decker allied with Renraku was himself an otaku who passed information on to the corporation in exchange for the money Renraku supposedly poured into his "research and development." If it was true, then the otaku themselves had dealt with Leonardo's indiscretions through Ronin and his virus. It was unlikely any other otaku would be breaking ranks in the future to aid the megacorporations. That sat just fine with Villiers, who knew first-hand how much trouble rogue Matrix elements could be. It was better not to have bit players mucking up the actions of the megacorporations. Renraku was set back by the damage done by the Babel Virus (as it quickly became known in Fuchi circles). The corp was not out of the game by any means, but the playing field had been leveled quite a bit. Fuchi was still Renraku's biggest competitor, but they had a better chance working against a Renraku stripped of the advances provided by the otaku Leonardo. While Renraku scrambled with damage control, Fuchi was working on getting some new competitive products out on the market. They were still the number one computer corporation, and Richard Villiers would see to it they remained that way. Dumping Lanier's stock on the Zurich Gemeinschaft Bank would also serve as a firewall against Renraku's expansion for a while. Already the stock markets were getting the first hints of a shift in the higher ranks of Renraku Computer Systems, and word of the stock transfer was spreading out from Tokyo and London to the exchange in Boston where it all began, just like a virus making its way through the body of the world, spreading information and making changes where it passed. Soon enough the world would know something big had happened to Renraku even if they -would never really know the whole story behind it. The corporate spin-doctors would see to that. Of more immediate concern was the trouble brewing within Fuchi. The Japanese families still simmered over the increased power Villiers had gained. Lanier's return to the fold did nothing to improve the Japanese faction's opinion of Villiers. Accusations of grand-standing covert operations concealed from the shareholders were flying fast and furious. The only thing keeping the Yamanas and the Nakatomis from trying to have Villiers removed outright was Lanier's success in putting the brakes on Renraku. As far as everyone else was concerned, Villiers and Lanier were heroes who'd pulled off a masterful scam against Renraku and got away with it. The Japanese were not going to remain idle for long. They would have to respond to Villiers' increased control over the corporation before he gained the leverage he needed to force them out entirely. Lanier knew from experience that there was nothing more dangerous than an opponent forced into a corner. In desperate straits, people were willing to do almost anything to survive. Ronin was proof of that. He had boasted to Lanier that he'd won his freedom, but Lanier didn't think so. Whatever it was Ronin talked to in the Matrix-the voice he spoke of in his visions that showed him how to be a technoshaman- it had used Ronin just as much, if not more, than his corporate employers ever did. Ronin had been turned into a weapon to be used against Renraku. He would teach them not to frag with the otaku, then be discarded like a spent gun. Lanier doubted that it mattered little to whoever or whatever was pulling the strings whether or not Ronin survived the experience so long as he did what he was supposed to do. Lanier had seen the technique a hundred times before in his career, and had used such people more times than he cared to count. He knew the signs when he saw them. Let Ronin think what he likes, he thought. The kid was young and ignorant of the way the world worked, but he would learn about it soon enough. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he could. There was no freedom in the world. People simply went from the service of one employer to another, even if the employer was themselves or their own desires for success, challenge, or luxury. The only freedom in the world is in knowing it's all just a game, Lanier thought. And in knowing how to use the rules to your own advantage. Speaking of which… He touched a panel on the flat, black top of his desk and a display lit up, providing touch controls for the sophisticated suite of electronics and communications gear built into the desk. A bowl-shaped depression on the left side of the desk glowed darkly, and the translucent holographic image of Lanier's assistant shimmered into being above it. "Yes, Mr. Lanier?" she asked. "Rhonda, get me Smedley Pembrenton on the line. I need to speak to him immediately. There's work to be done." "Right away, sir." Lanier closed the connection and waited for his call to go through. Pembrenton was a good fixer and knew Boston like the back of his giant hand. Lanier was sure the troll could meet his needs. I wonder if the Hammermen are available for some additional work? Lanier thought. He would need a lot of good people if he was going to handle the Japanese and Renraku at the same time. It would require subtlety, but he was sure he could pull it off. He sat back and started planning how he was going to do it while Rhonda put the call through. Of one thing Miles Lanier was totally certain. Sacrifices would have to be made.