Chapter 16. Chrome Up!
“If the corps can take us out like that, why don’t they fill their servers with traps?” I asked Gloss as we traveled back by BRUTE.
“At the end of the fiscal year,” Gloss said, “a corp has one job: deliver value to shareholders, and that means controlling market share and generating profit. No matter how much we steal from them, no matter how many of their secrets we sell to their competitors or leak to independent journalists or post on the public net, they just continue on making money. We’re almost always an annoyance, and very rarely anything more. Simply, we’re not a threat to them. And setting ambushes is expensive. Every asset meant for runners to smash into is an asset that could be making money instead. Not only that, but do you have any idea how much current you have to pump through a net connection to make it lethal, and how much processing power it takes to keep a runner jacked in until the current can fry a human heart?”
Gloss looked red-faced. I’d never seen him so upset. I could tell why he didn’t want to get into this last night, both because it was painful for him and because it was probably traumatic for Linney to revisit the night she found her ex-boyfriend dead in some crummy crash space.
“No, I don’t know,” I said quietly.
“Let’s just say that White Tree probably pumped more than four million into that poor tweaker’s nervous and circulatory systems. That’s an expensive bullet, if you ask me.”
The BRUTE was pulling into the station and the passengers around us were growing restless, reaching for their bags.
“But hey,” Gloss said. “Enjoy your day off.”
I just looked at him. He nudged me with his shoulder. “I’m serious, man. Don’t worry about it. Me and Enrique will show you how to tiptoe around problems like that. Stick with us and you’ll come out all right. Maybe you get a nasty shock once in a while. You’ll survive, huh?” He tousled my hair like I was his seven year-old kid brother. I couldn’t help but smile.
As we descended the staircase from the BRUTE into the ripe and humid air of central Carthage, a strange sensation passed through me.
It was back: the message glowing on the inside of my left eyeball in bright purple letters.
COME FIND ME
For the first time since I’d arrived in the city, I could see it.
I’d been distracted, falling too deeply into this crew of runners. I’d been focused on making money for improvements to my rig.
“You OK, man?” Gloss was leaning in, looking at me, as if checking for bloodshot eyes.
“Yeah. Just a little tired.” I still hadn’t told either him or Enrique about my eyes and wasn’t sure how longer I could—or should—keep the secret. Earlier, I had wanted to ensure that they saw me as a peer, that they knew it was my skills as a runner that got me into servers. Now, I felt like perhaps it was dangerous to hide this information from them. Maybe I could let them in on it. Maybe tomorrow.
“I’m going to enjoy my day off now.” I said.
Though I wasn’t at all sure it was true.
###
“So good to see you again!” Dr. Rashida Qin swept into the examination room, smiling at me in a way that made me feel instantly cared for and warm. She started to sanitize her hands and I took a moment to reflect on my good fortune. As kind as my adopted crew were to me, there was something I was keeping from them—the weird implants that stood in for my eyes—and so far Dr. Qin and Linney were the only ones who knew everything about me.
“What brings you in?”
I thought about all the things I wanted to talk to her about. I might end up spending my entire day off in her chrome boutique.
“You said you had done some research into my eyes,” I said.
“I did!” She swung a monitor around on an articulated steel arm so both of us could see it. “It looks like your eyes were created in a joint venture by White Tree and FUTUR Design.”
“I thought those corps were at war with each other.”
“So did I! I mean, they are. They totally are. How many deaths have there been now? Seventeen, eighteen chief engineers? Four or five executives? A number of contract security that we’ll never know about? Not to mention the runners they’re sending against each other.”
When she said that, a sickening feeling spread through my stomach. I felt even more grateful for Dr. Qin, because Enrique and Gloss hadn’t told me the corps used runners, not exactly.
“But to get to the point,” she said, “at one time, years ago, these corps were on better terms, and they even cooperated on one venture: net-capable ocular implants. The idea was for a new generation to be able to connect to the net without wired interfaces or even conventional wireless interfaces. Net traffic was to be beamed directly into the eyes by microwave.”
“That sounds significant.”
“It would have been. The research found that widespread adoption of net-capable eyes would have led to a generation of youth who could move seamlessly between netspace and meatspace, with all the promise and peril that implies. The world’s knowledge available in an eyeblink. One’s attention constantly under attack. Advertisements everywhere. Harmful data coming in directly through the eyes. But connection with peers readily available. It’s hard to imagine.”
“It seems like we’re most of the way there already,” I said.
“Maybe so,” Dr. Qin said, “but one thing is clear: you’re not using your implants the way they could be used.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the last time you were here I installed a net port in your chest. That’s old-fashioned compared to what you could do with your eyes, assuming someone could build the right kind of interface for you.”
Sitting in the doctor’s office, the thoughts were revolving in my head. The world seemed so full of promise, even if it were dangerous.
“Could you build me one?”
Dr. Qin smiled. “Not my area, sorry.”
“Something happened earlier today. A message appeared on my eyes.”
“What did it say?”
“It said, in all caps, COME SEE ME.”
“Did it say who it was from?”
“No. Any ideas?”
“Well, as net capable devices, it’s possible your eyes would be picked up on any scan of local networks. So anyone who found the eyes on a network, theoretically, could send a message to them.”
That made me think. Surely Enrique and Gloss had swept the apartment for devices that were sending and receiving signals, so why hadn’t my eyes come up? Or had they, and Enrique and Gloss were concealing that fact from me?
“I hope my eyes wouldn’t just display whatever some rando told them to.”
Dr. Qin laughed. “One would hope not. I imagine that White Tree and FUTUR Design have iced your eyes in some fashion, even with basic security to keep out breakerless griefers.”
“What else could it be?”
“Your experience suggests someone with deep knowledge of how those ocular implants work.”
“You’re saying that it was someone at White Tree or FUTUR Design?”
“Or formerly at one of those companies, someone who was around when the eyes were built. That’s my guess. Sorry I can’t be more helpful there.”
“That was very helpful. It gives me a lot to think about.”
“What else can I assist you with today?”
“Hey, I learned that someone injected me with fabricytes.”
Dr. Qin looked at her monitor. “Those didn’t show up on my last scan. So maybe it happened afterward?”
“Or maybe the scan missed them.”
“Unlikely. Fabricytes are one of the things I look for, especially because you have to be a bit more careful with new implants when you have them running around your bloodstream.”
I thought about it for a moment. “I was hoping to get some new implants today.”
“Have you had a chance to browse the boutique in the front?”
“I did. I was thinking about a heartjack.”
Dr. Qin slapped my arm. “You expecting some lethal feedback?”
I smiled, feeling shy. “Maybe.”
“We can talk about that. It’s ten thousand for the part but ninety thousand for installation. And it’s not a same-day procedure. You want a heartjack, you’re going to be out of commission for a couple weeks. What else you thinking?”
“What about a FLUX chip?”
“Ah, power modulation. You’re looking at dealing with some power spikes that might corrupt delicate software or wetware, and wondering how you can protect your rig. Yeah. We can do that today. It’s 18K all-in, six for the chip, twelve for the snip. Sound good?”
“Do you take insurance?”
“Are you joking?”
“Yeah. I’m uninsured.”
“That’s fine because I take cash or chip. Insurance companies don’t like my business. But hey, you’ve got a net port now. That means we can deliver digital narcotics to block your nerves. You won’t feel a thing today, not unless you want to. Anything else while we have you nerve-blocked?”
I was thinking about the man who had been following me the other day. I wanted something to avoid similar situations in the future. “How about a DNA scrambler?”
“You’re worried about White Tree ice tracking your movements. Unfortunately, we can’t do that while the fabricytes are active. Come back in six months and we’ll get it put in.”
“What about a Vista processor?”
“Vista processors are fine, but just a moment you were asking about protecting yourself from lethal feedback. Vista processors are kind of the opposite of that. With one of those, you’ll access more data faster. It’s great for when you’re downserver and you’re trying to suck up as much corporate intel as you can before the server resets and you get booted, but if there are ambushes about, you’ll have a much higher likelihood of smacking into them.”
I recalled Gloss’s story about Linney’s ex-boyfriend dying after running into a White Tree trap. “What do you think, doc?”
Dr. Qin looked at me with more seriousness, less humor than before. “I’ve explained the risks and benefits. But it’s your life,” she said in a neutral tone of voice.
“Let’s go for it,” I said.
“Fine. The Vista is 10K, divided evenly between hardware and installation. I’m giving you a break on the install because we’re doing another procedure. As long as you’re feeling no pain, should I remove the state and fedgov trackers they put in you as a kid?”
“Cool. How about subcutaneous subroutines?”
“Sub-subs. The salvation of bad programmers everywhere. Looking to do some coding? We can get those slotted, but it’s going to be painful using your hands for a few days.”
“Can I use them tonight?”
“Sure. Just keep an eye on your power bill. Those suckers have to be recharged. I can throw in the charging pad gratis. It’s ten thousand, 1K per little piggie.”
“Great.” I held out my wrist and she scanned it.
Dr. Qin looked at the screen on her worn, gray payment terminal, its rubberized case scuffed and more than a little dirty.
I was down to my last thousand, but I felt invincible.
###
It was evening by the time that Dr. Qin was done with me. I walked out of the boutique as the feeling began returning in my neck, my muscles sore and the fatigue creeping into my bones. My fingers ached as I shook them out. I was both tired and eager to keep going.
Fresh in my mind was my breaker. Linney thought it needed more work and I wanted to make her proud of me. Then I wanted to smash more corporate servers, earn more cash, and built out the rest of my rig. I felt like I was a professional already, with only a few runs behind me.
I ducked into a coffee shop and ordered a large drip in a ceramic mug, then took my laptop and console into a corner.
Coding wasn’t my strong suit. Sure I’d been a good student but in my rural high school they hadn’t exactly taught us any advanced techniques.
I stretched my fingers, feeling the sub-subs wake up. Supposedly they would let my fingers code even if my brain didn’t know exactly what they were doing. Net-connected muscle memory, predicting movements based on what other coders had done. I’d never be brilliant at this, but then I didn’t have to be.
I opened the source for my breaker.
Then my eye twitched. The purple writing was back.
COME FIND ME
My heart sank. Was that you, Freya? Somehow, somewhere? Or was this a griefer or a trap? Was this the afterimage of the illicit corporate data that had blasted through my body over the last few days?
I wanted to be strong enough to find out.
I looked at the code that Linney had written. I tried to follow it, tried to figure out how it worked. I drank coffee and more coffee. After a while, I sat back in frustration. But then a strange thing happened.
My eyes began to scan the lines on their own, and my fingers began to alter them on their own. I relaxed and let it happen. The sub-subs were taking over. I worked intuitively, fueled by longing and caffeine.
Suddenly, I felt a presence and looked up to find Linney standing before me. She wore her long, thin raincoat and her eyes were red-rimmed. She seemed to be about to cry.
“I need your help, Rawls,” she said, swinging her backpack down on the table. “There’s no one else I trust with this.”
###
The CheRRy’s Guide to the Hardware Store
FLUX Chip
Manufacturer: Garnet Systems
Legal Status: Legal
Description:
Cost: 6K
Name
FLUX Chip
Manufacturer
Garnet Systems
Legal status
Legal
Description
A small quantum capacitor installed at the base of the neck
Cost
6K
Function
Diverts power spikes. Saves your breakers and your nuts. Provides good protection from rigshooting, although the chip itself can be burnt out from repeated use and will eventually need to be replaced, probably at the least opportune time. Provides limited protection from lethal feedback, but there are better options out there if you have some weird attachment to your own existence.