Date: November 15, 2400

United Nations of Earth Sphere

Great Sioux Nation, Great Plains Republics

Black Hills Prairie Cabin of Unktehi Asp

Despite the debilitating snowstorm that blanketed the Black Hills region, once South Dakota, the personal greenhouse of Asp Aerospace CEO, Unktehi Asp, remained a comfortable 80°F. He strolled through sections of corn, radishes, carrots, and other robust crops, meticulously noting growth rates and monitoring biometric data. Other corporate elites, who were, at best, acquaintances, often teased him condescendingly about his simple pleasures. Perhaps they believed it was a stereotypical connection to Mother Earth due to his Lakota heritage, or they suspected he was trying to cultivate an image of a down-to-earth man for PR purposes.

Every element within the greenhouse was planted, nurtured, and maintained by his own hands. In a world where most food was synthesized to meet the growing hunger of Earth and its outposts in the Sol System, finding fresh produce was a rarity. It was even more exceptional when the soil it grew in had been artificially adapted to match the topography of Mars. Rows of vibrant green sprouted from rust-red earth, completely unaware that they were thriving in an alien environment.

While he did want fresh food for his dinner table in his Black Hills cabin, the primary purpose of his personal greenhouse was to serve as a testbed for extraterrestrial colonization on a micro level. If humanity were to venture beyond the Sol System, he envisioned small settlements operating independent green spaces to meet their immediate food needs until larger colonial infrastructure could be established. Asp Aerospace would be the go-to provider of prefabricated structures, soil compounds, and genetically modified crops adaptable to various environments. It troubled him that few space-based corporations seemed to have such visionary goals, even though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why it bothered him.

As Unktehi noted the substantial regrowth of a section of corn showing early signs of nutrient deficiency, a faint ping sounded in his ear. He tapped the basic earpiece he carried and answered, "Yes?"

"Good morning, Mr. Asp," a feminine voice carrying a hint of soprano behind it greeted him. It was his personal Adaptive AI, Ling Mi. "I apologize for interrupting your research, but Terry Xiong and Hector Villalobos are on the line."

"Excellent, I've been expecting them. Activate the projectors in my cabin, I'll be there in a minute."

Ling Mi acknowledged his request and left Unktehi alone as he headed to the greenhouse exit. A heated pathway with spaced-out heat lamps shielded him from the winter landscape. Inside his modest cabin stood the projected 3D images of his security leads, Terry Xiong and Hector Villalobos. Hector stood at military attention, a habit carried over from his prior service with Spain. In contrast, Terry was seated in a chair, his feet extending beyond the drone's projection, likely back at headquarters.

"Terry, Hector," Unktehi greeted with a wave as he took his place at the desk.

"Good morning, sir," Hector replied.

"Howdy, boss," Terry responded, taking a big bite of an apple followed by a wide grin. If they were in person, Hector would have surely been staring daggers at the other man. Unktehi, however, didn't mind Terry's more relaxed demeanor; he knew it was not a sign of disrespect. Terry embodied the modern Texan, taking life in stride with a casual air that might seem rude to those unfamiliar with it.

"All right, what do you have for me?" Unktehi inquired.

Terry put down his apple and picked up a tablet. "Well, both Hector and I have completed our investigations. We've ID'd all the individuals involved in the raid. It's quite a diverse group: two Russkis, one Yank from New York City-State, a RoC Chinese, and a CAR cat."

"And what did you find, Hector?" Unktehi asked.

Hector remained still as he delivered his report. "Each mercenary had a background in cryptowarfare specific to their countries, but beyond that, they had no other connections. Their target was data related to a PROJECT: ANIÁN."

Unktehi nodded and inquired about the captured mercenary. "I understand you managed to apprehend one of the mercenaries?"

"Yup," Terry confirmed. "Hector successfully interrogated the operative from the Central African Republic."

"And what is his current status?" Unktehi asked.

Hector replied matter-of-factly, "Deceased."

That statement from Hector, delivered as matter-of-factly as a budget report, was part of the job as head of a megacorp that he had never quite grown to be comfortable with. Life within the corporate realm was cheap. There was a tacit understanding between all corporate bosses that the safety and profitability of the corp came first. Every corp had agents engaging in espionage and committing acts of unconventional warfare against one another. Whatever couldn't be settled in a board room or over drinks was settled by the barrel of a gun.

"Any leads on who sponsored this little break-in?" Untekhi asked.

Terry sighed in frustration, "Whoever orchestrated this operation covered their tracks well. Most of the planning and communications were traced back to an ARCH server located in Sweden. Whatever major planning they did there may as well have never happened."

Untehki nodded. ARCHs, or archipelago servers, were the loose association of individual intranets that served as a shallow reflection of the Internet as it once was. No longer was there a singular world wide web, but a series of scattered, isolated servers all meticulously maintained by private parties. Sweden, always the frontrunner in net security, was colloquially known as a "black hole" as every ARCH there was protected by VPN tech making all communication there anonymous.

"Did you recover the stolen data from the complex, at least?" Unktehi asked.

"That would be a yes and a no," Terry said making a so-so gesture with his right hand, "We recovered all five data cassettes each merc smuggled out. IT boys also confirmed the presence of data with."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Untheki breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, I didn't expect they'd have time to offload the data given their schedule."

"Not to take the wind out of 'yer sails, boss," Terry interrupted, "But that's the yes part of my answer. The no part is that upon closer inspection the data within was all junk. Enough junk to match how much each project's info should be, but junk nonetheless."

Unktehi found this news unusual. "It's hard to believe that cryptowarfare specialists would be unaware of the actual data they were downloading."

Terry added, "That's where it gets interesting. Hector?"

The Spaniard directed Untheki to open a file uploaded to Asp's own private ARCH. He opened it and revealed a 3D geographic map of the Flordia peninsula with the Asp complex color-coded red, Canaveral City in blue, and a spot on the panhandle in yellow.

"Here," pointed Hector, "is the Asp Aerospace complex. All five members of the team had left via the city maglev, though at different times."

Hector manipulated the map to an unassuming highrise several miles from Commercial Center, the site of the medical AV crash.

"The team had previously stolen an aerial vehicle belonging to St. James Medical Corp as part of their staged attack with the hope of blending in with the inevitable emergency response. Our team was able to tag where the AV was kept."

"Don't forget the explosives," Terry chimed in, "Got 'em 'fore they could plant 'em."

"Indeed," Hector said calmly, a furrowed brow showing a hint of frustration, "Which you then had ordered loaded onto the AV, a fairly stupid risk."

Untheki gave a critical eye towards Terry, "I have to agree with Hector, that seemed like an unnecessary risk."

"In my defense," Terry said raising his hands, "The building they chose was a decrepit, partially gutted mess. You let explosives go off there and you're looking at a major structural collapse that could hurt a lot more people. 'Least on the AV had a Basic onboard in its systems."

He saw that Hector looked unconvinced, but Untehki saw Terry's point. Most terrestrial and aerial vehicles, civilian and military, had a rudimentary artificial intelligence known as a Basic within its systems. Basic AIs were responsible for running things as small as a home's air conditioning to an entire traffic network of a metropolis. In this case, the auto-pilot function of the Basic within the AV likely monitored biosigns as it fell from the sky plotting out the least harmful path to avoid humans below as it sped to its doom.

"Granted. Hector, please continue."

"We traced the proposed exfiltration point to a clearing in the forests of the panhandle. Upon reaching the site we found nothing there.

"So either they were never meant to be picked up or when the plan went sideways their ride just failed to show?"

"I believe the former, Mr. Asp. Going further, I believe the merc team was an elaborate distraction."

"Elaborate."

"As Terry said, the cassettes we recovered were filled with junk data. Whoever would have gotten them would have been left with nothing."

Untehki stood up and began to pace the room in deep thought trying to connect the strings of intrigue.

We have mercenaries hired to go undercover in my complex, steal valuable data on PROJECT: ANIÁN, but end up not actually taking the data. But the data IS gone, so where did it go?

Snapping from his thoughts, Untheki asked his security leads, "Are we sure there were just five mercenaries? Could there have been any rouge elements at play even they didn't know about?"

"That is where I was going next," Hector said, "We've kept news of the heist sealed tight at the complex while checking to see who has and has not returned since November 1st. Thus far, six names have been flagged in the system. Five of them were the mercenaries and the sixth was a data-miner in our employ, a certain Horatio Bask, who was working on linking a defunct ISRO server with the Asp network."

Now things were beginning to click into place. Data-miners were experts in navigating cyberspace and the servers that linked ARCHs together. The primary role of a data-miner was to safely connect servers connected to the Old Web to current-day ARCHs in order to claim the data within. It was dangerous work as unprotected connections to the Old Web could lead to prolific corruption to any systems or people who make the attempt.

"I'm hoping we found Bask's role in all this then if they have one, then," Untheki said.

"We have, sir," Hector replied, "The Indian Space Research Organisation server purchased from last month's auction in Calcutta had been connected to the Exploratory Complex systems at the time of the heist by the CAR operative. Bask must've waited on the other side of cyberspace ready to make a swap with the merc as they downloaded their portion."

"And of the other mercs? How did Bask get to their data?"

"Probably in a similar capacity. The ISRO server contained telemetry data as well as reports on India's early attempts at agriculture on the Moon, so it had been connected to both the Exploratory and Agriculture complexes."

"OK, so that handles the how, but where did the data go if it wasn't on the cassettes they pilfered?"

"Our best guess? Somewhere in the Old Web. It's not uncommon for stolen data to be stored there temporarily for recovery. Few would chance the Old Web's dangers unless absolutely sure they were protected.

"Have we found Bask since?"

Terry piped up again, "That would be another yes and no, boss."

Untehki gave a wave that conveyed "Let's hear it" to the Texan and sat back at his desk.

Xiong sent a file of his own to Asp's network and beckoned him to open it. He was greeted with CCTV footage of a middle-aged man, assumingly Horatio Bask, in the attire of an Asp uniform standing motionless on a busy street corner as pedestrians flooded past him. Suddenly, the man jerked his head up and began climbing a power pole. He then lepted to a nearby advertisement screen, took a cable from the back of his head, and connected it to a terminal on the screen. Sparks began to fly from the screen and the man's body before culminating in a power surge that knocked out the footage.

"Classic case of Netbound possession. The poor man must've made one last trip into the Old Web and made a slip that allowed one of them feral constructs to ride his datastream back to his neural interface to take control of his body. Leaves us one less witness for us to make sense of this whole thing."

Untehki pinched his temple, "If taken over by a Netbound, I'd say that adds credence to your idea of the data being sequestered deeper in the Old Web. What a pain in the ass."

"That's the gist of it," Terry said with disappointment, "Deeply sorry, boss. Either your info is god-knows-where in the hellscape of the Old Web or some Netbound got to it already and had itself a feast. If it's any solace I doubt the one behind this big 'ol heist is coming away any better. All mercs dead, data-miner dead, data lost in the Old Web, what a big bite of a shit sandwich."

"Unless," began Asp, "Even Bask's death was part of the equation. No, I don't think the data is gone. In a hard-to-reach place, yes, but not gone. There are too many coincidences at play.

"Would you like our IT to see what they can find?" asked Hector.

"No, at this stage we can't trust that someone else on that staff might not be involved in some way. I want someone from the outside to work the hunt, someone with expertise navigating the Old Web. I'll leave the outsourcing to you two."

Terry and Hector looked at each other and affirmed their order. The projectors winked off as the drones returned to their cubbies in the cabin's ceiling. Untheki let out a huge sigh as the weight of the meeting washed over him. He eyed his bookshelf and rose to approach it. Several large tomes filled the shelves, none with any identifiable title on the spine or cover. By all estimates, it seemed like an ordinary shelf with books bought to suggest sophistication, a common tactic by insecure corporate elites hoping to look smarter than they actually were. Yet the click of an out-of-sight button unveiled several hidden compartments built into the cabin floor. The bookshelf itself rose up, revealing several more levels that reached the cabin ceiling. From the compartments came other shelves equally full of thick, featureless volumes.

While not ideal, he could handle most of the PROJECT: ANIÁN being lost. Most of the project was done in collaboration with other companies who most likely had their own backups. What could not be lost was the work done by his own hand, his new starstream gate designs and proposals. He had every update committed to paper and kept it here at his cabin just in case the worst happened. Only he knew of its existence and current events would keep it that way. Making sure this work was safe and secure was his top priority.

In his mind, humanity's future might one day depend on it.