Dana's attention was brought back to the scrolling data on the screen. "Stop there," she jabbed a finger at the text, freezing the search, "'XYBR', that's what I'm looking for, a connection to Xybercorp."
The technician squinted at the text, "I can run a search for it in the data we've collected so far," he looked and shrugged, "It's a stretch though. We're not getting much data back from this machine. The owner used a pretty advanced cleaning program on it."
"Where did this reference come from?" Dana asked, tapping her finger on the monitor.
"That..." the technician paused to scan the context, "came from a history table."
"A VR history table? A Web address history table? What kind of table?" Dana demanded.
"I don't know," the technician shook his head. "Just a history table, and this is an entry in it. That's all I can tell you. I might be able to learn more when we finish cleaning the machine. You know, we usually have network support for this."
"No time," Dana dismissed the idea and continued searching the ASCII jungle.
"I see it," Dana froze the screen on another code string, "That's a Web address history reference isn't it?"
The technician squinted at the piece of text, it was part of a web address followed by a date string, "Possibly, but we don't know if we're looking at the same file. Besides, that address is in Ireland."
"Where they're working on new battle-bot control software," Dana had been cramming on Xybercorp, wholly owned DataStreams subsidiary, all morning.
"True," the Technician admitted, "but I would hesitate to connect the two references. The main problem is that XYBR's a stock ticker symbol. It's a financial reference, not a web address."
"What's all this nonsense following it?" Dana's finger traced a string of characters seeming to run forever, highlighting it with her touch..
"Don't know," the technician shrugged. "Possibly a media stream of some sort."
"Play it," Dana ordered.
"Detective Summerall please," the technician said, "You have to let me do my-"
"Stuff it," she ordered. "Play the media thingy."
He sighed and selected the text string with his forefinger, tapped to cut, and then tapped to paste it into another window, "This will take a few tries."
He saved the file in several audio formats, but the media player returned errors and dissonance. Then he ran through the video formats, more gibberish. His third save into a VR compression opened it.
The window was a first person perspective without sound. It bobbled and became blocky with low resolution, revealing what looked like toy robots and a cloaked figure. The jerky perspective was frustrating. For a second the camera revealed the cloaked figure's profile, a young girl. The camera hovered at her shoulder, alternating between her and something else. Finally the girl turned away, leaving the camera to watch her leave, robots following, and returned to the thing.
He looked into the camera, his eyes intensely serious. There was a flash of something inhuman, a blur of teeth and eyes. The clip ended.
"Good enough for me," Dana muttered.
"What was that?" the technician asked uncomfortably. "Some kind of video game?"
Dana did not answer. Instead she made a hand-gesture to speed dial the extension where Devin and the blind girl were working. The phone rang a full minute before Alice picked up.
"Yes Dana?" Alice demanded impatiently.
Dana was confused, "Alice? Is that you?"
"Yes it is," Alice replied quickly. "I assume you are calling to check on Devin's investigation?"
"Yes I am," Dana answered. "How did you know it was me?"
"I recognized the digital signature of your cell phone's white noise, not to mention your biorhythms." Alice cut to the point, "Devin and Zai are online, and exhibiting the heart palpitations and excessive muscle tension associated with a stressful situation. Their inability to log out implies they are prisoners of the cyc hive-mind. This should confirm your suspicion that the DataStreams I-Grid hosts Flatline and the cycs. I must go now."
"Alice wait," Dana commanded. "Go where? What are you doing there?"
"I need to access the World Wide Web to complete our research," Alice answered. "I am preparing to go online with the cyc I have merged with."
"What?" Dana was shocked, "I forbid you to go online. You're a security hazard. We don't know anything about what's happened to you. If you go online you could-"
"There is no time for this," Alice cut her off, "I am no longer part of your agency and I do not recognize your authority. I will call when I have further need of you."
"Alice?" Dana heard the line go dead. "Damn it Alice!"
Another series of hand gestures and she speed dialed the Authority, attempting to find someone who could stop Alice, but was met with a recording stating the phone system was down. Dana knew Alice was behind it. The woman identified with the AI's above her own species. Regardless of her intentions, Alice was betraying the human race.
An air-raid siren wound up into a blare outside the house. Dana's radio squawked, and an alert came over the speaker. It was from a Government-Contract Coordinator several miles away, in the city's center. An army was invading DC.
Dana saw the ISF officers scrambling into their vehicles through the nearby window, and she grabbed the technician's collar, hauling him to his feet, "Give me your keys."
He fumbled through his pockets as Dana dragged him through the house and across the front yard. The ISF vehicles were racing away, and Dana put the tech into the forensics van, catching the keys as he dropped them. Swinging into the driver's seat, she started the engine and punched the accelerator to gain some ground on the train of emergency vehicles speeding toward the Memorial Bridge.
Two miles down the George Washington Parkway and she saw what the alarmed Coordinator was talking about. A line of towering objects were lumbering slowly through the waters of the Potomac. They stood taller than the Memorial Bridge, and were headed for the Washington mall.
Dana noticed the train of brake lights just in time to swerve off the road and onto the bike path alongside it. She followed this all the way to the bridge, where she skidded to a halt. Jumping out of the van, she ran towards the bridge and leapt up on the hood of a Military Humvee for a better view.
There were eighteen of them; towering mecha walking on four stalks each. At their peaks was a large, steel orb bristling with radar, antennas, digital receivers, and other unidentifiable instruments. They glistened with water droplets, and seaweed clumps dangled from various precipices.
The first of the towering robots stepped gently over the bulkhead toward the Lincoln Memorial. Dana hopped down from the Humvee's hood and ran between the rows of abandoned cars across the bridge, fighting against the throngs of fleeing civilians to follow the silent invaders.
Once there she saw more robots rising from the deeper waters in the distance. At the point where the bridge met the bulkhead, several bus-sized scorpion-robots were climbing the stone wall. One paused to focus several camera stalks on her momentarily before continuing.
Then a swarm of orbs, each the size of a basketball, descended from the cloud canopy to surround the procession, using three propellers to create a gyroscopic effect. An array of appendages dangled from underneath each one, and their metal orbs, were covered with lenses, providing them a nearly omniscient view of the surroundings.
Water rained down lightly on Dana's face as she craned her neck to watch one of the tower-bots step over her. They were navigating carefully, causing no damage. Their long thin legs avoided people and cars as they progressed slowly into the city.
It was beautiful.
"That's a Science Warfare Applications sentry bot," a nearby Monument Security contractor said, craning her neck at the towering robot.
"Carrying a Xybercorp EMP missile," the Industrial Special Forces™ commander was shaking his head in disbelief. "It's a hostile corporate takeover."