“My, you really are innocent of the ways of the Matrix in spite of your jack. A tag is a complex set of instructions encoded into a chip. It makes any instructions executed through that chip leave an identifiable mark on whatever programs they touch. If you use those chips as they stand, you will leave very large, identifiable footprints everywhere you go in the Matrix.”
“Then it’s hopeless.”
“Nay, I said not that. But you must be aware of the dangers you face before trying to deck without authorization into a system as dangerous as Renraku’s. As to the tags, I can strip them from your chips if you but give them into my care.”
“Permanently.”
Dodger laughed. “I have no need for your chips, as my own are far superior. What call has a master of the Matrix for some neophyte’s persona programs?”
Sam was excited. “Then you will help me get into the Raku system?”
“If your back door is good, yes. But to assay it now would be folly, for you have no experience in such endeavors and would be iced before you passed the access node. Running a mainframe undercover is a bit trickier than doing your salaryman duties, Sir Corp. You’ll need practice.”
“How do I start?”
“Ghost spoke truly of you. You do have courage.” Dodger heaved himself off the bed and opened one of the cabinets. He took down a keyboard and cleared the power cords so that he could lay it down on the counter. He held out the datacord to Sam. “Here is an Allegiance Beta. As a cyberdeck it is antiquated, but it should perform adequately for a beginner like you, especially while you are under the guidance of a master. I’ll give you the Matrix address code to a safe system. You can try running against it for a while and see what you can get out. The system is not very complicated, but it’s got ice.”
Sam, who had started to reach for the datacord, pulled his hand back at the mention of IC.
“Nothing dangerous,” Dodger assured him. “But it will get you some experience. While you’re doing that, I’ll work on your chips.”
Sam handed over his persona chips before snugging the plug from the Allegiance cyberdeck into his datajack. He watched as Dodger unpacked his own deck, a much more sophisticated model, and a microtronics tool kit from his backpack. The Elf had his work well under way before Sam had steeled himself to power up the Allegiance.
Several frustrating but increasingly successful boots later. he jacked out. His head throbbed, but he was elated. He had finally managed to strip some information out of one of the system’s datastores. Dodger had been right. There was a lot more to unauthorized decking than he had imagined. He massaged his temples and stretched.
“You have had some success?”
“Got a datafile.”
“Very good for a first try, Sir Corp.” The Elf’s face showed concern. “But you should not have been taxed that badly.”
“Don’t worry about it. I always get headaches when I access the Matrix.”
“Do you? How strange.”
22
“Remember, you aren’t really ready for this, so try not to get separated.”
“I know and I will.” The chromed head bobbed in agreement, mimicking the action of its controller. There was no real reason for the icon to do so. No program had been executed, no command given. The motion was an artifact of the consensual hallucination that allowed the Human mind to function in the alien space of the Matrix. “I appreciate this, Dodger.”
“Your words will be proven true only if you perform as an astute and attentive student.” Dodger winced inwardly. The professor would have laughed to hear him utter those words. Though his mentor had used a somewhat different phrasing, the intent was the same. Had the old Elf felt the same emotions that tugged at Dodger now? Fear that his student’s nascent skill would be insufficient warred with the need to see him stand on his own. There was a very significant chance that Sam would fail disastrously on this run. And the blame would be Dodger’s for not demanding that one last drill, driving home a procedure until it was reflex. Or it might be his failure to describe some seemingly obvious trick of the trade that would lead Sam to make a mistake and pay with his life or his sanity. If there were more time, Dodger could train him better, but time, even for an Elf, could be a more implacable foe than even the blackest of ice. There was no more time. Sam, ready or not, would wait no longer.
Anxious over his student’s capabilities, Dodger could not let him face the Matrix alone. Not against the powerful, and almost certainly hostile, Renraku System. Even without the IC, Sam would be a fast meal for the rawest Raku deckhound roving the system. Without Dodger’s experience, Samuel Verner, neophyte decker of the shadows, was likely to get his brain fried.
Dodger led the way. Their path ran through the fiber lines to the antennae hidden on the upper floor of the mission, then by microwave uplink to a satellite nexus. They shunted through the regional telecom grid connections and were beamed down into Seattle. They zapped through the local telecom grid to hover in an exchange junction box on Wharf Ten. The business system they had invaded was a minor client of the Renraku Corporation. The arcology Matrix was only a single, well-guarded step away.
They did not experience their journey as such. To their Matrix-bound perceptions, they simply stepped out and away from their home systems and seconds later stood at the foot of an enormous pyramidal icon. Its deep, nonreflective black was marked with a disk of glowing blue that regularly pulsed out an expanding ring of bright neon. The wave grew until it met the edge of the construct and another wave was unleashed. The first continued to expand, vanishing when the planar surface could no longer contain it. leaving arc segments to grow until gobbled themselves by the more distant edges of the construct’s surface.
“Bring up the masking utilities,” Dodger instructed.
He keyed his own, knowing without needing to see that his normal icon, a small ebon child with a glittering silver cloak, had been overlain with a simulation of the standard Renraku corporate decker icon. Sam’s Matrix imagery, having originally been one of those icons, underwent a less visible shift. The facial features blurred and smoothed as replicated corporate symbols and identification markings shimmered into existence.
The badges borne by Sam’s icon were faintly smudged, darkened as though slightly burned. With more time, Dodger could have done better, but he had to settle for unregistered duplicates of Renraku access authorizations that were imperfect. Though not foolproof, their disguises should withstand casual scrutiny by ordinary anti-intruder programming.
“ ’Tis time to see if your back door really opens our way into the castle.”
“Dodger, I don’t think I should let you see the code.”
“ ’Tis a place whose secret paths I have trodden before.”
“But you got in by yourself then. I wasn’t opening the door. I… well, it just doesn’t seem right that I should. Even now. What if we’re mistaken and Renraku has nothing to do with the killings? It would be wrong for me to give away this secret.”
“Do as your conscience bids, Sir Corp.”
“I just wanted you to understand.”
“Shall we get on with it?”
“All right.”
Sam’s icon moved ahead. They floated upward until they hovered at one edge of the pyramid, about a third of the way to the apex. Sam placed his hand at the point where an arc racing along the edge had revealed a slight discoloration. Just before the next wave hit that point, Sam’s icon swung between Dodger’s and the point of contact with the pyramid. As the wave passed, the faint glimmer of an outline appeared in the surface of the Renraku construct.