A drain appears below Malloc.I's foot. Immediately, a clay hand reaches out of the drain and tries to grab his foot. System diagnostics detect an automatic attempt to Track Malloc.I.

Back in meatspace, some kind of gas is being emitted from various nooks and crannies within the tank room. It looks like steam.

Some observation proves that the gas is, indeed, normal water steam. It is, of course, very hot. Every surface in the entire room will probably be extremely hot for the next forty minutes or so.

As the clay hand reaches out for his icon, Malloc.I begins to melt away. His innate Stealth routines dissolve his icon into his surroundings, but the clay hand flails and grasps ever closer to his form. Shocked at his inability to evade what should have been a laughable trap, Malloc.I recognizes both the impressive robustness of the Trace routine as well as the iconography of the program. As he loads his Spoof-class program, from his server a thousand miles away, into working memory, he creates a message for the team: <<'Drain' trapped. Alert raised. Proceed with 'ignite' or 'poison'? Notify objective completion.>>

If he was correct in his identification of the IC program, he needed to stall - he was locked into a form of cybercombat. Redirecting the trace would be a good start, but it would be quite a while before the program degraded to the point that it lost its lock on Malloc.I's flittering form. And, although a typical matrix user could be triangulated in seconds, Malloc.I's path would not be so easily backtracked - even if the construct followed his datatrail all the way back to the Kabushiki Gaisha Sukai PÄ?fekuto KomyunikÄ“shonzu satellite system, his location would not be pinpointed more accurately than originating from somewhere in the Tokyo region of Japan. Even that, however, was information Malloc.I intended to make the tracker-bomb earn.

Rose yelps softly to herself as she hops away from the steam.

<<Damnit! I told you it'd be trapped! Frag! that's really effin' hot. Malloc-I, I'm not seeing any tanks drained yet, and I'm not exactly in the mood to deal with poison gas. Before you go and set off anymore traps, do you have cameras in here? Sunuvabitch, it's getting really hot in here!>>

<<Correct. 'Drain' did not drain. Misleading controls will be ignored. Good luck.>>

<<Delay visual sensor request. Neutralizing IC.>> A timer appears which begins to count down from 12 seconds.

<<Dancer, just so you know, we've hit a bit more trouble. Let the others know that we might need a hot extraction. And see if anyone has any burn cream. This is going to hurt... alot.>>

Dancer mentally curses as she gets the message. This run is going sideways quickly. She marks the positions of the outside guards, and starts calculating fields of fire. She subvocalizes terse messages to the other team members:

<< Understood. I've got your back, Rose. >>

<< Doc, get ready. Rose might need some first aid from you when she gets out. >>

<< Malloc.I, I might need you to get the entrance door for me if Rose needs help getting out. >>

<<Damnit! I don't have time to wait... ouch! Ok, I'm waiting outside the room. Let me know when you're done. Actually, better idea. let me know when you actually manage to drain the tanks. Or just tell me which tank has the target, and I'll drain it myself, Malloc-I.>>

Having declared her intent, Rose spins in place and throws herself into the air, looking to get out the door posthaste.

There was a slight pause, and then Malloc.I replies <<IC crashed. Inspecting available functions.>>

Poison appears to connect to a driver connected to a tank labeled "Fish."

Ignition is a connection to rigger controls for some kind of car.

Malloc.I's response takes another second. <<Fish or vehicles? Analysis of remaining options... indeterminate. Drain may not be networked. Proceed with caution.>>

<<Malloc.I, can you identify in the camera footage which tank contains the target?>>

<<No. Intentionally so.>> Along with Malloc.I's message is a link to the direct feed of the room. The video is low-quality and grainy, and there is obvious on-the-fly editing to blur out the contents of each of the 41 tanks.

<<Well, is there any past footage of them putting it in? If not, then... explain what you meant by fish or vehicle. Maybe one of them would help...

If not, then get ready to intercept and suppress any and all alarms, because this is going to get noisy in a flash.>>

<<Control labeled "poison" maps to tank labeled "fish". Control labeled "ignite" maps to a vehicle. Purpose unknown. Suspected unhelpful.>>

<<Back-up security-camera footage possible. Visual-editing will obscure contents, immediately. Multiple tanks in use. Information unclear.>>

<<Well, let's poison the fragger's fish and start causing some chaos, shall we? And if that doesn't help, be a dear and tell me which tanks are the most likely to contain our target. I'll start blowing holes in them until we find what we're looking for!>>

A number of red bull's-eye icons appear over some of the vats in the camera feed from Malloc.I - seemingly at random - at the same time that the artificial intelligence reaches out two tendrils of code to access both "poison" and "ignite" simultaniously. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but got the impression that, whatever it was, it would constitute "chaos".

Some persona named Ichythoid_3 is trying to access Ignite through you. Do you allow?

Malloc.I's icon shifts apart as that of Ichythoid_3 reaches through it to access the "ignite" control. Realizing that anything a legitimate user of this node wanted to do was probably not something his team would appreciate, he quickly used his administrator access to block the command, and lock permissions on the control.

When Ichythoid_3's icon clicked the control, it flashed red for a moment and activated the OS's stock "error" sound, before presenting the confused persona with a message-box explaining that he did not have the necessary permission level to access this command. At roughly the same time, the icon for the "poison" command mysteriously flashed green as the still-hidden Malloc.I reached around Ichythoid_3, and continued with the plan to "poison the fragger's fish".

The artificial intelligence was still curious as to what each of these commands would do, but he was also very interested in how Ichythoid_3 was going to react to the strange malfunctioning behavior of these controls.

Ichythoid_3 stops for a moment, and then runs its fin over to "drain".

The custom-designed IC comes up again and tries to ruin him, also.

When the IC appears, and attempts to attack the other construct, Malloc.I forms a quick message to the user, and transmits it to his account on this node: <<Mistake. Drain = steam. Also, tracing. Who are you? What do you want?>>

A message back:

Ah. It seems that you have caught me in extremeness. I may have reason to think that I work for same company as you do. Any choice of helpitude?

<<Choice? Always choice.>> Malloc.I's tendrils dig deeply into the surrounding iconography reaching out for the matrix security controls. With his administrator access, commanding the IC to stand down should be a simple task. <<Co-workers or competition?>>

"Nihongo ga wakarimasu ka."

<<Hai. Wakarimashita. Demo eigo ga jozu desu ne?>> Malloc.I replied, still using the OS's built-in messaging system, rather than expose his icon to Ichythoid_3. Malloc.I paid little attention to the transition from English to Japanese, but was curious as to the reason.

Additionally, it appeared that Ichythoid_3 was not, as first assumed, a legitimate user. Therefore, his reason for blocking the ignition command was no longer valid - and should be revoked. As soon as he was finished commanding the IC to stand down, he access the ignition command and executed it.

He also fired off a quick message to the rest of his team. <<Commands accessed. Observable results? Company online.>>

In the TruTech building, one by one, all of the vats open and tilt, releasing their contents onto the floor: it all seems to be water. A flood of what-appears-to-be-water splashes in all directions.

Immediately after, Ichythoid_3 appears to start paying attention again. He logs off.

<<Yay Malloc.I! You got the tanks to drain! Unfortunately, it's all over the floor. Start looking for any connection to Aztech in their databases. I'll let you know if I need other help. Oh! What's your online company doing? Anything I need to be worried about?>>

Rose studies the liquid on the floor for a moment, trying to figure out if it is actual water.

<<Alone. Worry that he was not expected.>>

Malloc.I recalled the reason he was being asked to begin this search, and it seemed he had done all he could do from here to aid his team in the collection of their datachip. It was time to begin digging up information about the company, and how it was connected to other companies. His administrator access opened all sorts of virtual doors, allowing his icon to slither and slink around several secure databases, but there was a ton of information to sift through.

This was, however, what Malloc.I enjoyed doing most.

OOC:


Rose frowns to herself as she checks her gun and prepares to fly into the room after she ascertains the reality of the former contents of the tanks. 'Great... another complication. How many more can we expect?!'

Paydata. A half-dozen intricately encrypted files entitled Faust-1 thru Faust-6 come up. Generational and pre-access decrypting and meaning algorithms show that Faust appears to be a code-word for Aztechnology, based upon mentions in unencrypted files.

The liquid has a slight sheen to it and a viscosity that means it's not water. The fact that you aren't dead yet says that at least it's not something like Sarin, but it's not pure water.

After a thorough scouring of the non encrypted data, Malloc.I became convinced that the information he needed was in the Faust-series of databases - at least, if the name was not as misleading as those of the controls he had just finished with. One by one, he plunged his ever-changing tendrils of data into the file's icon, first probing them for any signs of digital traps. He had seen examples of such IC in this node, already, and wanted to be better prepared the next time.

Data-bomb found on Faust 1, 3, and 6. Proceed with decryption?

After spotting traps in half of the databases, Malloc.I decides to get the decryption started on the other 3 before risking the integrity of his connection by disarming the bombs. This first-pass will also give him some idea of how strongly encrypted the data is, and whether or not he would have time to complete the objective even *if* the bombs are disabled.

Some wiz encryption on this stuff—it will take some days.

Rose frowns at the liquid for a moment before looking into the room as a whole. Her eyes dart back and forth, searching for either a place to land, or, with a bit of luck, the target itself.

A few recesses hidden in the walls remain free of any liquid.

<<Target files located. Decrypting. ETA: 157 hours, 23 minutes, 14 seconds. Will update, as information becomes more accurate.>>

Malloc.I loads up his Disarm program, planning to get the other half of the data started to avoid doubling the time.

<<Databomb detected on 50% of data. Probability of full recovery: ~12.5%.>>

<<Failure may result in data corruption.>>

<<Terminate? Or continue process?>>

All information considered, the odds of the decrypting files going undetected for days was next to none. The odds that his slightly-obsolete pirated disarm program would be enough to bypass even a moderate-level databomb was slim. Disarming three, successfully, drove that slim possibility quickly down. However, it was possible that the data was too valuable to be triggered to self-destruct. In that case, a few careful detonations might result in a clear path to decryption.

The issue of time was a small one. Installing backdoors was his specialty - but unlike other hackers, if he wanted to live here for the next week, Malloc.I was capable of doing just that, and overseeing the decryption with adminstrator access. Someone might notice the sudden drop in resource availability and investigate, however - so this was not a situation he wanted to volunteer himself for, lightly.

(Edit: Fixed probabilities when I noticed that the Disarm action was an opposed test, and not a Threshold of Ratingx2)

<<@Malloc.I>>
<<Well, can you copy the files, including the databombs, and remove the databombs later? If not, then grab the databomb-free files now and remove the databombs after I'm out of here. That way, if it sets off alarms (how have we not done that yet?), I won't be trapped in here with the CorpSec hitsquad that responds. If the data's corrupted... well, it's not exactly crucial to completion of our primary objective!>>

<<@Team>>
<<Hey, I just remembered something. Mr. J said that the target was in the handle of a briefcase. Wasn't the magic exploding troll carrying a briefcase? That he lifted from the ghoulies who got it from here? What's he doing?>>

Rose sighs, crosses her fingers, and hops into the air, gliding into the room. She circles once, looking for the target, before fluttering over to one of the relatively clean recesses, where she lands for a moment before taking off again to continue looking.

<<Access violation: Data cannot be downloaded until decrypted.>>

<<Outer door access: Granted. Warning: Security forces deployed.>>

<<Signal when door is no longer needed. Beginning disarming.>>

With that, Malloc.I releases the door-locks, allowing either the outside team to get inside, or the inside team to get outside. He tried to keep some of his attention on the camera-feeds around the door so that he could re-enable the locks if it appeared that the security forces outside would intercept the other members of the team - but those would primarily be the problem of the on-the-ground team.

His real focus was on the data, which was entirely his responsibility. Carefully, he began executing a series of instructions to extract the dangerous code from the Faust databases.

With a poof of bits, a great big demon icon appears. Malloc.I probably hasn't heard of Goethe nor Marlowe, so it is with surprise that he sees the message appearing from the icon:

"Thus thou pleasest me.
I hope we'll suit each other well;
For now, thy vapors to dispel,
I come, a squire of high degree,
In scarlet coat, with golden trimming,
A cloak in silken lustre swimming,
A tall cock's-feather in my hat,
A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,--
And I advise thee, brief and flat,
To don the self-same gay apparel,
That, from this den released, and free,
Life be at last revealed to thee!"

And Faust-1 disappears from your filesystem. A quick check reveals that there remains the same amount of space remaining, however.

Dancer comms back:

<<@Rose>>
<<I've lost sight of him, but he was still carrying the handle and a few attached bits from a briefcase. If the item is not where it should be, we can try to track him down, and see if he is carrying the briefcase with the datachip on the handle.>>

Dancer scans her surroundings again. The troll seemed to be skulking around still, but she lost sight of him when he stepped away a bit, and she started to concentrate more on the guards and the complex. Maybe he's still in sight.

Confused, Malloc.I does a quick check of his own internal subroutines, and is surprised to find that the "bomb" did nothing to attempt to disrupt them. The file, however, seemed to have been hidden. Before risking either of the other two trapped systems, he begins to probe around in the area where he last saw the file attempting to find the Stealth program that he suspected was now concealing it.

A more exhaustive probe for a file includes an also-exhaustive pseudo-datasearch, searching for incongruous changes to the filesystem in general and any files in specific. There were two files edited in the last five seconds: Faust-3 and Faust-6. Both of them have large increases in filesize. No stealth program in analysis range: just the two databombs remaining.

'Interesting." Malloc.I thinks to himself, coming to the conclusion that whatever that construct was, it was not programs to disrupt his persona, nor to destroy the data it was protecting. It seemed to have simply consolidated the data into the other two trapped databases. He moved to Faust-3, thrusting his tentacle-like fingers into the code, in an attempt to defuse the code protecting this database. He had incorporated data from his previous attempt into his algorithm, and so calculated his odds of success as slightly higher than before. The negative consequences of failure were projected to be quite a bit smaller, as well - assuming the data-protection on this file had a similar function.

Th - e- sys - tem - iszzzzz. . . get - - ting sllllooooooo - - -wwwwwweeeeeeeer—r. Reeeeee-ssssss-ponsssss- iszzzzz. . . nauuuuuuuuu-w 2. . . naaauuuuuu-w 1. . .

It wasn't until the response reached critical levels that Malloc.I even noticed that it had happened - the satellite connection he was using to reach Seattle from Tokyo already had already reduced his incoming matrix traffic to a crawl. It seemed to level out, but it seemed as if several large programs had come up on the node, consuming almost all of the resources and threatening to bring it crashing down if even one or two more were executed.

The good news was that this would imply that the security forces that would want to prevent the rest of the team from exiting would have a much harder time with it - as the building's security node was just barely functioning. The bad news was that the decryption routines were no where near complete, and having the node crash would mean losing this opportunity to decode them - possibly forever.

Malloc.I inspected the node, looking for new processes that may have been started within the last few seconds.

While he's looking, the node resculpts itself, somehow.

Malloc.I is in an auditorium. He smells digital sulfur and brimstone and sees the unending ranks of unseeming demons.

"And . . . I advise thee, bri. . .ef annnnnnnnnnd flat,
To doooooooooooooon . . . the self- . . . saaaaaaame gay apparel. . ."

Malloc.I is back in one of the high clay towers with golems patrolling on the streets. Response is normal now. In his icon's hand is fused a great big drinking cup, seeming as if it were carved out of some great demon's horn. Analysis deems it probably a datafile, encrypted in countless, fractal layers with code that seems to throw off your decrypters entirely: none of them can even recognize it as a datafile.

The datafile looked promissing. Malloc.I's digital tendrils rolled across its surface, probing it for information, and receiving very little. In its encrypted form, it was unlikely that he could download its contents any more than he could download the three unprotected databases which had just resumed twisting and contorting as his decryption routines continued to bend and reshape them.

It appears that whatever process was hogging all of the nodes resources had been put to sleep, which saved Malloc.I a step in his 'administrative' duties. Some aspect of what was going on did not sit right with him. He felt as though this was all very peculiar.

However, given that he still needed to find a way to make sense of the datafile in his hand and since the node had resumed normal operation, Malloc.I attention returned to the last protected Faust database. He reached out to attempt to disarm it - expecting to have no better luck than he had with the other two. However, triggering the databomb seemed to be doing something, and Malloc.I was curious as to where this was going.

When Malloc.I triggers the last databomb, he feels a tugging feeling for an instant indicating that a driver had been accessed.

Back in the mysterious room full of vats, Rose observes from a clean recess some kind of black ooze that slips down a wall and quickly splashes down the wall. It glows with a twinkling iridescence, and you can see that it's an ARO- Augmented Reality Object.

Rose spends the next few passes staring at the ARO. <<Erm, Malloc.I, is the ARO of your making? because that's effin' creepy.>>

Upon receiving a reply, Rose tentatively scans the ARO.