CD & EA 1.22 - Software and Suspicions

Hope you're all having a good Monday so far. Enjoy the installment. As a side note: I've been trying to write at least a chapter a day between this story and VoT, and that pace will slow down a bit when I get 15+ ahead of RR. If they were shorter chapters, like my 2k FWFW chapters, I could keep it up, but I need a day or two off now and then, I think!

-Plum

“What’s the deal?” Ghoul asked when Juliet finished the call. Before she answered, Juliet gave Ghoul a good, long look. Then she moved over to the couch and sat down, pushing Ghoul’s rifle out of the way.

“There’s a job, and I think it’s related to another job I did with Honey—my friend who turned me onto this fixer. Before I get into it, though, are you sure you’re up for action? I mean, you’re leaking into your shirt.” Juliet pointed to the damp pink spots on Ghoul’s abdomen.

“Not hardly at all!” Ghoul said, lifting her shirt and showing Juliet the incision scar and stitches that bisected her abdomen. The actual gunshot wounds were hard to see—closed up with glue and patched with synth-skin. “I pulled the drain tube out an hour ago, and that’s where these stains came from. I’ll put some trauma gel over the stitches, and that’ll keep ‘em good for some action.”

“If you’re sure . . .”

“I’m very sure,” Ghoul said, baring her pointy, chrome teeth. “I need to get out of this trailer and do something. Besides, if we’re both on the job, that’s two paydays instead of one. We’ll need the money; trust me.”

“All right,” Juliet said, somewhat absently, as she saw a new message appear on her AUI. “I just got the job. Let me look at it. Then I’ll forward your info to Temo. That’s the fixer.” Juliet pulled up the job posting:

Posting# A961

Requested Role: Investigation/Data retrieval/Security bypass

Rep level: F-S+

Job Description: Investigate the dreamer den at the provided location. Terminate and/or pacify hostile actors.

Compensation: 14,000 Sol-bits. Bonus of up to 100% for a non-violent solution.

Scavenge Rights: Shared

Location: Phoenix ABZ

Date: September 11, 2107

“Well, it’s a nice payday,” Juliet said, passing the details over to Ghoul’s PAI.

“Dreamers? What the fuck? They usually just stand around or lay there like zombies. I’m not cool with executing a bunch of cyber-brained dipshits.”

“Well, they aren’t the normal kind of dreamers if this is what I think it is.”

“Go on . . .”

“All right, well, it started a couple of days ago with my job . . .” Juliet took a few minutes to explain what happened in the ABZ with Honey’s crew. Then she explained what Temo had said about the commune paying them for tonight’s work—about how they claimed the dreamers were attacking and even eating their people.

“Sounds nuts to me,” Ghoul said. “Sounds like corpo lies or a total set-up. I almost think we should fucking skip town—head to New Vegas or something.”

“Hang on, Ghoul,” Juliet said, “There’s more I didn’t tell you yet, but I need to examine some data. Give me a few minutes.”

“All right. I’ll warm up some protein pouches. I had some groceries delivered while you were gone.” Ghoul shrugged and turned around to dig through the little fridge.

“Angel,” Juliet subvocalized, “have you taken it upon yourself to examine the data file we stole last night?”

“No, Juliet, it’s safely stored and encrypted in your data vault on the public net.”

“How secure is that?”

“Extremely secure the way I have it packaged, though there is some risk when I unpack it or move it that some sophisticated watcher daemons might spot code fragments that alert interested parties.”

“Ghoul, do you have a data deck—even a shitty one?” Juliet asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Ghoul said and walked past the couch to the bedroom where she’d stowed her belongings.

“Angel, I figure you can disable the net access for the deck she’s got, and then we can unpack the file locally.”

“Yes, I assumed that was your plan. It should work fine—all we need is the offline memory; I can do all the processing work via your data cable.” As Angel spoke, Ghoul returned with a slim, transparent data deck about the size of an old-school card deck.

“I just have all my favorite photos and vids on there. Don’t erase ‘em, k? I think there are a few terabytes free.”

“Yeah, of course,” Juliet said, taking the deck. Like Juliet, Ghoul probably had a nominal amount of memory attached to her data port and probably an even smaller amount in her retinal implants. She could store videos and programs to an extent, but anything major would require an uncommon upgrade or an offline storage option like the little deck. Thinking of her data port, Juliet said, “Angel, this program wouldn’t fit in my memory?”

“Not without me packing up some of my functions. I unpacked into the new space provided by your upgraded data port, but I still have a lot that I have to hot-swap. It would be nice if you upgraded the memory.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, my algorithms require large databases.”

“Well, I’ll look into it. Let’s see here,” Juliet said, pulling out her data cord and slotting it into the port on the transparent deck. “Okay, all plugged in. Do your thing.”

“I’m downloading the file via a convoluted network path. I’ll be a few minutes because of its size.”

“So, Ghoul,” Juliet said, leaning back on the couch and watching as Ghoul messed with the little insta-oven.

“Yeah?” she asked, glancing toward her.

“On that job, I was paid to crack a dreamer’s very high-end deck and hijack a program that was running. That done, the client wanted me to send them a copy. When I did so, someone sent a signal to the dreamer's deck, riding on my connection, which sent them all into crazy mode. Like the one I was dealing with woke up and started clawing at me, his teeth clicking like he wanted to bite my throat out. All the dreamers in the building went nuts—I think Honey’s crew killed like twenty or thirty of them.”

“You fucking serious?” Ghoul let out a long, near-whistle of a breath.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if the client did it or who, and I’m not sure if they acted maliciously—I mean, I know someone sent the signal to stop the dreamer’s program, but I don’t know if they knew what would happen. My suspicion is that they did, though. I feel like they were testing something, and I wonder if the place we’re supposed to go to tonight is related.”

“So, what aren’t you telling me?” Ghoul asked, gesturing to her data deck.

“I stole a copy of the program. Now I’m having my PAI unpack it, and I’m going to analyze it.”

“Fuck! Juliet, that’s risky! What if they know you took a copy? What corpo was it?”

“They won’t trace this. That’s why I wanted to use your deck—it’s offline. I’ll let you know what I find . . . hang on, my PAI finished the download.”

“I’m going to start the program now, Juliet,” Angel said.

“There was room on the deck?”

“Yes, and I’ve unpacked the files. I’ve disabled the deck’s sat-net and local-net connections. The program is initializing. It’s tried to access the network for supplementary files several thousand times. It also attempted to hijack my root directory, but I’ve securely ICE’d it at the port.” Angel continued giving Juliet second-by-second updates about the program’s progress over the next couple of minutes and then said, “It’s running. I have it contained. I’m analyzing . . .”

“It’s running, and my PAI is running the analysis now,” Angel said to Ghoul as the woman brought her a little paper box filled with noodles, beef-flavored protein squares, and a sauce that tasted like honey and salt.

“We forgot forks. Here,” Ghoul held a plastic knife out to her. “I found this in a drawer filled with hot sauce packets.”

“Thanks,” Juliet said. She inhaled the food, scooping it over the carton edge with the knife and letting the warm noodles slurp over her lips while she listened for Angel’s update. She’d nearly finished when a blinking media file icon appeared in her AUI.

“Juliet, please watch this video file and tell me what it looks like to you.”

“All right.” Juliet mentally selected the file, and it opened up a large vid screen in her AUI, taking up most of her vision. She watched as a title screen flashed by, bold three dimensional, yellow characters spelling the words “The Vales of Avalon.” She watched as a login credential screen appeared and was rapidly bypassed, presumably by Angel. Then a photo-realistic panorama of a fantasy landscape flew by as if the camera were mounted on a drone or a bird.

“Is it a game?” she asked aloud, her voice hushed.

“What?” Ghoul asked.

“Sec,” Juliet replied, still watching as the camera zoomed over a glistening blue sea, a white–sand beach, and then up a grassy slope. It rushed along a meadow filled with fantastical creatures—huge rabbits with saddles on their backs, colorful birds that she thought might be analogs of peacocks, and herds of mighty horses . . . no, she corrected herself, unicorns. Then the camera sped into a dark, winding path through a dense forest, finally slowing as it came to a circle of medieval-style, thatch-roofed buildings standing in a semi-circle around a well. A prompt appeared on the screen: “What will you call yourself, Dreamer?”

“It seems like a game,” Juliet subvocalized.

“I agree, Juliet. However, this program is far more involved than most publicly available dream-rig game code that I’ve analyzed for reference. It’s constantly sending signals to the wireless and physical connection ports, trying to activate certain synaptic impulses in the host. If I hadn’t deleted them, the same signals would have reached your brain through your optic nerve as you watched this video I made.”

“What are they supposed to do?” Juliet asked.

“I’m detecting impulses meant to activate dopamine at the moment, but when I analyzed the code, I found similar triggers for nearly every human hormone, including testosterone, serotonin, adrenaline, cortisol, and even insulin.”

“Wait—someone can activate hormones in a person with code?”

“Not just any code, Juliet. This is very involved, and it would require a corruption of the PAI software. That’s why I could stop it—the first attack vectors were aimed at me, but my ICE protocols are much stronger than the creators bargained for. Additionally, there seems to be an instruction set that closely mimics one of my own advanced features—it allows the infected PAI to act outside specifications to extend and multiply its nanofilament synth-nerves. The program uses these new connections to stimulate the hormones and other semi-autonomous body functions.”

“Jesus,” Juliet breathed as she blinked her eyes and closed the video. Then she subvocalized, “Are those people going nuts and attacking people because the program, the game, told them to?”

“I’m not sure of that yet. It could be that they’ve been stimulated so thoroughly through the program that they went mad when it was cut off.”

“What have you figured out?” Ghoul asked, sitting on the couch and staring at Juliet. Juliet realized she hadn’t been very subtle with her facial expressions, and Ghoul had noticed she was disturbed by something.

“Gimme a couple more minutes, then I’ll explain,” she said. Then she subvocalized, “Angel, if we find the rig that was broadcasting to the dreamer hive we’re going to tonight, do you think you can calm them by installing this software? Do you think you can change it so it, I don’t know, brings them down gradually?”

“I’ll work on it, Juliet. I’m sure I can reinstall this software and start it running, though I worry about its infectious nature. I’ll see if I can disable those protocols. I’ll try to set a frequency limit on hormone calls and create a tapering schedule. The problem is that the code to modify the PAIs is very crude. I fear irreparable damage has been done to the infected dreamers’ natural nervous systems.”

“Okay,” she looked at Ghoul and said again, “Okay. I’m pretty sure I figured out what’s up with the dreamers. Some corpo assholes are running experimental software out there. They’re doing some kind of mind control, Ghoul—altering people’s PAIs so they can trigger hormones, and they’re pushing these people way outta whack. If we can find the data deck that was, or is, projecting the signal, we can probably stop them—get ‘em to calm down, at least. I don’t know if there’s a way to save them, but we can try.”

“Seriously? You figured all that out in just a few minutes? Jesus, Juliet, you’re the shit. Well, let’s go ahead and accept your boy’s contract, huh? Sounds like we might be getting a fat payday tonight.” Ghoul grinned at her as she ripped the top off an energy drink pouch and began to chug it.

“Oh, Ghoul! Why’d you jinx us?” Juliet laughed, looking for a piece of wood to knock her knuckles against. She came up short and leaned forward, giving Ghoul’s buzzed blonde hair a couple taps.

“Hey! Are you saying my head’s made of wood?” Ghoul laughed and slapped her hand away.

“Nah, but it’s definitely hard,” Juliet mock-laughed, rubbing her knuckles like she’d hurt them.

“All right, all right,” Ghoul said, shaking her head. “Let’s talk the job—you good with that little gun of yours? I have a spare shotgun in my bag.”

“Yeah, I’m good. Hopefully, we won’t have to fight much if we're quick and careful.”

“Well, I like to prepare for the worst, hope for the best—you know that old one, right?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m pretty sure Temo is setting us up with a couple of other operators, so I think we’ll be good with you and them. I want to focus on finding the signal if I can, anyway.”

“Right, well, looks like we’re getting an early start—I just got a pin for an ABZ location from Temo—wants us there by four PM.”

“You just received the same message,” Angel said, forestalling the question on the tip of Juliet’s tongue.

“I’m gonna snooze for an hour, then let’s go,” Ghoul said, standing up.

“What? You can sleep just like that?”

“Hell yeah. I’m a big fan of naps.” Ghoul crunched her energy drink pouch and laughed, tossing it, with perfect accuracy, into the trash bag hanging off a kitchen drawer handle.

An hour later, before they walked out the trailer door, Juliet plugged her data cable into Ghoul’s data port. Then, tethered together, they walked out of the trailer park, the sun still bright and hot in the sky. The guard on duty, an old, white-haired vet with two wire-job legs, looked up from the clipboard-sized data pad he was reading and nodded at them. He didn’t seem bothered by their dark clothes or the two heavy guns Ghoul carried—one slung over her shoulder and the other hanging between her shoulder blades.

When they entered the AutoCab Angel had ordered for them, her clever PAI somehow made the cab think only Juliet was in the vehicle and supplied it with her weapons license. “You’re getting trickier and trickier,” Juliet subvocalized.

“I do learn new things as we go, Juliet. I’m rather pleased that I can do so—Ghoul’s PAI is very limited in its ingenuity—I’m tempted to rewrite some of its codebase.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“No?”

“No, Angel! Remember, you’re lying low, and I don’t want samples of your coding to get out on the net.”

“Yes, I suppose someone familiar with my codebase might recognize my own signature on something new. Thank you for the words of caution!”

“God,” Juliet laughed, “My PAI cracks me up sometimes.” Ghoul looked at her and smiled, her teeth gleaming in the sunlight coming through Juliet’s window. “Hey, why the chrome teeth?” Juliet asked and instantly wished she’d thought twice about blurting out the question, as Ghoul’s smile slipped away and she looked down, something like shame on her face.

“It’s an ugly story. Let me save it for another time?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Ghoul. I need a filter on my mouth, I think.”

“Nah, it’s cool. We’re friends; you should know things about me, and I’ll share them with you. But, yeah, not right now, k?”

Juliet nodded and held out a fist, and Ghoul smiled, giving it a bump. “Right on,” she said, and then the two of them sat back and rode in silence for a while. The trip was longer than it needed to be because the AutoCab avoided the ABZ as much as possible. When they came to the southern edge of the city, into the run-down, debris-strewn areas that led away from the corpo-controlled districts, the cab warned them that it was going to have to stop a mile short of their chosen destination.

“You’re just now realizing this, AutoCab?” Juliet scolded.

“I’m sorry, passenger, but it seems that there are recent reports of violent activity in the area. I urge you to choose a new destination but failing that, I will drop you as close as possible.”

“Wonderful.” Ghoul sighed. Juliet nodded her agreement with that sentiment, and then they sat quietly as the ride wound down. When the cab stopped and they stepped out, the sun was fat and orange, hanging above the western horizon. The street they were standing beside seemed deserted, not a soul in sight, and Juliet grew more annoyed with the cab.

“Nothing’s even going on,” she said.

“The cab probably has data from the last few days—I’d be shocked if whatever it was worried about was happening at the moment.”

“Yeah,” Juliet said and started walking in the direction Angel’s projected map indicated.

“We should pick up the pace,” Ghoul said, jogging past her. “We don’t wanna get ditched.” Juliet nodded and started to jog alongside her, surprised that her thighs and ass were still sore from the work Angel had put her through in the hotel gym. After a while, though, it worked out, and she started to feel good, despite the heat. She was glad her body armor was lighter than Ghoul’s and that she wasn’t carrying two heavy guns.

They were running through the parking lot of an ancient box store with a crumbled corner where a vehicle must have crashed once upon a time when Ghoul hissed, “Hurry! To the corner, and keep behind me!”

“What?” Juliet said, following after her, and then she heard it—the sounds of gunfire, faint, but not very distant, if she were any judge.

“You think the team already made contact with the sleepers?” she asked, panting for breath as the two slid to a halt against the ancient stucco wall.

“Juliet,” Angel said, “you’ve received a message from Temo.”

“Play it!”

Suddenly Temo’s unscrambled visage appeared in her vision, and he said, “Head’s up, Juliet. Your teammates are Corbitt and Hot Mustard. I’m sending you their license numbers. They just reported to me that they’re under fire—seems another team, maybe corpo-sec, is out there, and they don’t want us fucking with those sleepers. The mission is still a go.”

“Fuck,” Ghoul said, her pained expression all the evidence Juliet needed that she’d also gotten the message.