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Authors: Stephen Kenson

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Leonardo felt a terrible chill overtaking his limbs, which began to tremble at the dragon’s words. He looked down at the glass of
alamestra
still in his hand and hurled it at Lofwyr with a cry of rage. The goblet shattered in the air before striking the regal form, splattering shimmering rainbow liquor across the floor. Lofwyr was unmoved.

Leonardo tried to call upon the magical powers at his command to save himself, to strike at his enemy, to call for help, but there was nothing. No power flowed at his command. No magic came forth to strike down the arrogant dragon-lord. The stone-cold face only gave a faint smile at his struggles.

"Salai," Leonardo called out in a croaking voice as his throat began to tighten. His sophisticated communications system, the most advanced in the world, failed to respond and the magical poison robbed him of any power save the ability to stare in horror at the creature
who
had done the unthinkable: struck Leonardo down in his own stronghold.

Lofwyr’s reptilian eyes were flat and cold as Leonardo fell to his knees with a gasp of pain. "You were always one of my favorites, Leonardo. I enjoyed your wit and your imagination once, but you have gotten above yourself. Many of you have. Others have tolerated this show of rebellion and I have gone along with their wishes, but only so far. Your little games intruded upon the operations of Saeder-Krupp,
my
corporation. I am Lofwyr, and my plans are not to be tampered with by such as you.

"The theft of the warhead was your first mistake. You were a fool to imagine I would not take notice of a rogue nuclear weapon. No matter that you wished only to paint it with the Papal Seal and convince a ragtag band of a nonexistent conspiracy. As if the Catholic Church fought its battle with nuclear weapons in place of words and ideas. I was almost prepared to overlook that bit of foolishness.

"But your second mistake was dealing with Renraku, placing yourself in my game. I was forced to expend some effort to correct the ... imbalance your interference caused. As it is, the ripples are already spreading. The horns of war will sound and I will have to waste valuable time protecting what I have built from being brought down. I am most disappointed."

The dragon-lord turned away from the elf and glided across the chamber to the antique desk. Lying paralyzed on the floor, Leonardo heard only the gentle tapping of fingers on the surface of the desk, covered with a touch-sensitive polymer coating of Leonardo’s design, a direct link into the sanctuary’s computer system. There was a chime of acknowledgment from the system, and Lofwyr tapped the desktop once more, starting a core dump through the communication system of Leonardo’s secret stronghold.

"Your lesson in humility has begun, my apprentice," Lofwyr said. "I hope you and your kind will learn the perils of defying your betters this time."

Without another word, Lofwyr turned and melted back into the shadows of the room. Leonardo heard the distant rustling of leathery wings as Lofwyr assumed his true form,
then
the sound of screams and roaring flames as the dragon began destroying the elf’s secret headquarters and the stockpiles of technology and lore hidden there. All of the great artworks and breakthroughs he had created would be reduced to ashes, save for anything Lofwyr decided to loot for himself. The great work would never be completed and humanity would be doomed by the arrogance of a dragon.

As the light in the room blurred and faded, Leonardo looked up into the eye of one of the hidden security cameras and thought he saw someone, or something, looking back at him before the monitor light on the camera winked out and Leonardo’s world turned into blackness.

30

For
what
shall
it
profit
a
man,
if
he
shall
gain
the
whole
world,
and
lose
his
own
soul?

—Mark 8:36

Miles Lanier sat looking out the window of his office in the Fuchi Industrial Electronics headquarters in New York City. Known as The Black Towers, the six spires of the complex
rose
high above the city skyline, offering a view of the city and the distant Jersey shore. Lanier watched the shimmering lights of the sprawl and considered the lives of the millions of people teeming in its streets and the millions more in other metroplexes where the drama between the corporate giants straddling the world was played out on a daily basis. One game ended while elsewhere another one was just beginning.

Babel
... no,
Ronin
had been as good as his word. The Hammermen had taken Lanier to another Fuchi facility in Boston where he was able to use the priority codes he and Villiers had arranged months ago to access and arrange for transportation to
New York
. His arrival was followed by an in-depth briefing with Villiers and the CEO’s top staff, those who could be trusted, at any rate.

Villiers listened to Lanier’s entire story about the Renraku operation to gain access to the secrets of the otaku. About how Babel, not Ronin, had turned against his former employers and put an end to the otaku project, which appeared to have damaged many Renraku cutting-edge technologies being readied for the marketplace. Speculation was rife among the Fuchi execs whether or not Renraku had acquired some of those developments from the otaku and whether they might have been wiped out by the virus by accident.

Lanier voiced the opinion that the mysterious "Leonardo" decker allied with Renraku was
himself
an otaku who passed information on to the corporation in exchange for the money Renraku supposedly poured into his "research and development." If it was true, then the otaku themselves had dealt with Leonardo’s indiscretions through Ronin and his virus. It was unlikely any other otaku would be breaking ranks in the future to aid the megacorporations. That sat just fine with Villiers, who knew first-hand how much trouble rogue Matrix elements could be. It was better not to have bit players mucking up the actions of the megacorporations.

Renraku was set back by the damage done by the Babel Virus (as it quickly became known in Fuchi circles). The corp was not out of the game by any means, but the playing field had been leveled quite a bit. Fuchi was still Renraku’s biggest competitor, but they had a better chance working against a Renraku stripped of the advances provided by the otaku Leonardo. While Renraku scrambled with damage control, Fuchi was working on getting some new competitive products out on the market. They were still the number one computer corporation, and Richard Villiers would see to it they remained that way.

Dumping Lanier’s stock on the Zurich Gemeinschaft Bank would also serve as a firewall against Renraku’s expansion for a while. Already the stock markets were getting the first hints of a shift in the higher ranks of Renraku Computer Systems, and word of the stock transfer was spreading out from Tokyo and London to the exchange in Boston where it all began, just like a virus making its way through the body of the world, spreading information and making changes where it passed. Soon enough the world would know something big had happened to Renraku even if they would never really know the whole story behind it. The corporate spin-doctors would see to that.

Of more immediate concern was the trouble brewing within Fuchi. The Japanese families still simmered over the increased power Villiers had gained. Lanier’s return to the fold did nothing to improve the Japanese faction’s opinion of Villiers. Accusations of grand-standing covert operations concealed from the shareholders were flying fast and furious. The only thing keeping the Yamanas and the Nakatomis from trying to have Villiers removed outright was Lanier’s success in putting the brakes on Renraku. As far as everyone else was concerned, Villiers and Lanier were heroes who’d pulled off a masterful scam against Renraku and got away with it.

The Japanese were not going to remain idle for long. They would have to respond to Villiers’ increased control over the corporation before he gained the leverage he needed to force them out entirely. Lanier knew from experience that there was nothing more dangerous than an opponent forced into a corner. In desperate straits, people were willing to do almost anything to survive.

Ronin was proof of that. He had boasted to Lanier that he’d won his freedom, but Lanier didn’t think so. Whatever it was Ronin talked to in the Matrix—the voice he spoke of in his visions that showed him how to be a technoshaman—it had used Ronin just as much, if not more, than his corporate employers ever did. Ronin had been turned into a weapon to be used against Renraku. He would teach them not to frag with the otaku,
then
be discarded like a spent gun.

Lanier doubted that it mattered little to
whoever
or whatever was pulling the strings whether or not Ronin survived the experience so long as he did what he was supposed to do. Lanier had seen the technique a hundred times before in his career, and had used such people more times than he cared to count. He knew the signs when he saw them.

Let
Ronin
think
what
he
likes,
he thought. The kid was young and ignorant of the way the world worked, but he would learn about it soon enough. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he could. There was no freedom in the world. People simply went from the service of one employer to another, even if the employer was themselves or their own desires for success, challenge, or luxury.
The
only
freedom
in
the
world
is
in
knowing
it’s
all
just
a
game,
Lanier thought.
And
in
knowing
how
to
use
the
rules
to
your
own
advantage
.
Speaking
of
which
.
..

He touched a panel on the flat, black top of his desk and a display lit up, providing touch controls for the sophisticated suite of electronics and communications gear built into the desk. A bowl-shaped depression on the left side of the desk glowed darkly, and the translucent holographic image of Lanier’s assistant shimmered into being above it.

"Yes, Mr. Lanier?" she asked.

"Rhonda, get me Smedley Pembrenton on the line. I need to speak to him immediately. There’s work to be done."

"Right away, sir."

Lanier closed the connection and waited for his call to go through. Pembrenton was a good fixer and knew Boston like the back of his giant hand. Lanier was sure the troll could meet his needs.

I
wonder
if
the
Hammermen
are
available
for
some
additional
work?
Lanier thought. He would need a lot of good people if he was going to handle the Japanese and Renraku at the same time. It would require subtlety, but he was sure he could pull it off.

He sat back and started planning how he was going to do it while Rhonda put the call through. Of one thing Miles Lanier was totally certain.

Sacrifices would have to be made.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Technobabel
is Stephen Kenson’s first novel. He is familiar to fans of the Shadowrun universe as the author of Shadowrun game books like
Portfolio
of
a
Dragon,
Super
Tuesday
!
,
and the
Underworld
Sourcebook,
as well as material for FASA’s Earthdawn game line. Although he is best known for his work with the magic of Shadowrun in books like
Awakenings,
Steve is a big fan of the otaku and their "Matrix magic." Steve lives in Milford,
New Hampshire
, and loves to hear from readers and fans of Shadowrun. He can be reached by email at
[email protected]
.

Copyright

ROC

Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Putnam Inc.,
375 Hudson Street
,

New York
,
New York
10014
, U.S.A.

Penguin Books Ltd,
27 Wrights Lane
,

London W8 5TZ, England Penguin Books Australia Ltd,

Ringwood
,
Victoria
, Australia

Penguin Books Canada Ltd,
10 Alcorn Avenue
,

Toronto
,
Ontario
, Canada
M4V 3B2

Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd,
182-190 Wairau Road
,

Auckland
10, New Zealand

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices:

Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England

First published by Roc, an imprint of Dutton Signet, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc.

First Printing, May, 1998 10 987654321

Copyright © FASA Corporation, 1998
All
rights reserved

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