Authors: Unknown
Unknown (10 page)
FOLLOW THE GREEN PAPER ROAD!
We have a name and address. We’re going on a privet jet so I can hopefully get there before anything else happens. Didn’t think they’d find anything this fas t, but you won’t hear me complain, even though the terminal we land at is probably going to be packed solid.
Got word from Joe (friend of mine in NSA. No that’s not his real name.) Started asking questions about my lady friend. What I knew about her, what I didn’t. I know she’s... different ....so his news about her ripping one of these Trolls to pieces didn’t really catch me like he thought it might. I’ve never SEEN her when she’s like that other than a few, ahem, personal moments, but I know she’s able to think and reason no matter how out of control she looks and I’ve vouched for her willingness to step up while I’m gone in case more show up. Don’t like her doing that though, from what she’s told me it takes a good chunk out of her if she pushes too hard. Suppose that’s no different from anyone else but like I said. I’ve never seen her work.
SHOWDOWN.
We went from the airport by car to the address we were given. Middle of Nowhere. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it was well away from anyone that might get hurt, but my gut was telling me we were walking into a trap, and I ended up being proven right. Had a few friends on standby, thanks to your friendly grapevine feeding little details here and there about who’s needed where.
When the trap sprung it wasn’t me and two ordinary Agents verses six Trolls and ten.... I’m not sure what they were. They were armed, looked kinda squarish build, all had bluish skin with white hair, and later we’d see they had blue-green cat-like eyes. These things commanded the Trolls around. We had others in the field waiting for whoever these guys were to show their hand. Sure at first I was afraid. Even with backup it was going to be me meeting these guys more or less alone, but this is my job.
Anybody ever dive out a moving car? Even with quick healing and being able to take a beating it doesn’t feel good. I don’t recommend anyone try it at home. Didn’t help, I guess, that when I jumped it was right in front of a truck being driven by one of those Blue People.
I can’t describe action to save my life, but I got the guy (I guess it was a guy) to stop the truck and turn back around. Ended up ramming one of the Trolls doing sixty. Sure it had a stupidly huge axe that cut the cab in two, but that was only after it got back up. I’ve taken beatings, but three of these guys slinging me around sucked giant ones. I got a few good shots in, but the only time I’ve gotten worse was when I stopped a train with my face.
I already had a bruised ego over getting my teeth kicked in but I guess on the bright side they were so focused on me they didn’t notice the rest of the fight. Anvil was using one of the Blue People like a club. Hiro and Sarah seemed to be everywhere. Not sure how they manage going that fast without killing themselves, but the real kicker was seeing my lady love loping over the hill to save my armor plated hide.
She was all teeth and claws, and she tore into them like that cartoon Tasmanian Devil. I didn’t care how weak I looked, or how hurt I was. The odds had been tipped in the good guys favor.
After the dust settled we checked each other, and my Lady Fury turned back so Hiro could give her a once over. Nobody was hurt at that point other than me getting a too intimate understanding of what a curbstomping felt like.
Zeus, Shadow, Mimic, Greyhawk, and a few others were ahead of us clearing the road. Hiro Sarah and Fury (I refuse to call her Blackbird. Christ on a Crutch people, that’s the most overused name in the book) were sent to collect me before we had our big throw down with the head oogie boogie.
The complex itself was actually pretty well put together from what little I saw. Logical layout that led to the obligatory Sanctum Sanctorum, Evil Lair, or whatever you want to call it.
The man that had grown and trained these things was short, dark hair and red eyes. He was dressed like something out of the dark ages, and he... smiled when he saw us. I’m sure that w as because he was making his escape and we wouldn’t be able to get through the barriers he’d put between us and him before he got away, but he said something that I’m still trying to figure out.
“
You are worthy.”
As exit lines and foreshadowing goes I have to give the guy credit for going with something creepy, but not so over the top that it loses its punch.
AFTERMATH.
So. Lab found and data expunged. Equipment is being divvied up to cover costs.
Trolls all had to be killed. The people involved want it called ‘putting down’ but it was killing no matter what you call it.
The Blue People surrendered. I have hopes that their lot in life will improve, but with how people in general treat anything Different I fear for them. They at least have been willing to talk and reason, they should be given a chance.
A few of the others are tossing around the idea of making this into our personal command center, hall of heroes, or something along those lines. I only heard about that from Fury because I was too busy recovering from the Troll Stomp. I dunno. Seems like an interesting idea. Have a skeleton crew man the place and have different Masks rotate through depending on who’s available when.
Trouble with that idea is I’m one of the few that don’t bother with a day job. Sure there are a few others, but I’m the only one out of the batch that’s out of sch ool, and I don’t want people dropping out of their lives on something they’ll want out of a year down the road. Still, it’s furnished, has a good bit of privacy already. I dunno. NSA's considering moving their Human-Metahuman department here, and if I moved here they’d be willing to foot any sort of transportation to get me where I’m needed. I dunno though. In cases that aren’t as clear cut as guys holding sacks of money or driving a van full of stolen stuff I’m just not sure. Still, this place represents a central location that might be good for coordination, or even a boot camp.
…………
Tesla and Hodd above that’s a brilliant idea. Gonna go see if the suits are willing to back turning this place into a training center. Could even have the Blue Folk work as staff here. I don’t like the idea of them being servants, but it’s a familiar place and maybe that will help. I’l l keep everyone posted on how things shake out.
Introduction
This is a story that takes place in a world only a few years removed from our own. Quantum computing has become a reality for highly specialized tasks such as weather modeling, stock market analysis, and of course military applications. However even with this once-hypothetical technology now a reality the public has been fed a string of lies designed to prolong, some hope indefinitely, the amount of time that this leap in processor capacity is kept away from the rest of the world Most buy the conferences, analyzes, and talking heads that proclaim the technology just doesn't offer enough of an advantage over conventional, and more cost effective, technologies to justify the expense in further research.
Of course not everyone buys this notion, and though most only talk there are some that are able to act. Several machines had been built as a proof of concept and though the raw numbers only put them on par with mid-range consumer systems they are able to pull off feats that would require entire farms of your average consumer machines; or at least so the rumors across cyber-space goes. Naturally, again according to rumor, these wonder-machines have been kept hidden from the world.
These machines do, in fact, exist. There are dozens, some full sized desktop units, others notebooks. Most are in the hands of engineers, technicians, and of course the military. A handful of these have been reported as destroyed when in fact they have made their way out of the sanctioned and heavily monitored hands they were intended for. Those few that had a chance to work with these machines, legally or not, felt that all of these enforced hardships were well worth not only the raw power at their fingertips, but also the software that took every advantage of this new technology.
This is the story of Richard Guy Fawkes, of no actual relation to the man behind the attempt to blow up British Parliament. Three months ago he came to possess one of these quantum computers. Up until recently he had mainly used it for relatively normal activities such as office work, online gaming, and general surfing; with a touch of relatively harmless snooping through cyber-space on the side.
That is no longer the case.
Part 1
Buddy List
I had lost contact with several of my friends a couple of months back. At first I had thought little of it. Sure all of us were friends, we all were in the same guild after all, but none of us had ever met so their absence only recently concerned me. The trouble is now that I'm concerned, what sort of action could I take? Contact police and proper authorities? They either gave me stock responses or hung up once it became clear I hadn't actually met the people I was worried over. Were I a normal person this would have been the end of it.
Were I in possession of a normal machine I would have to prepare for weeks, probably dive through dumpsters for a critical memo or manual detailing security policy while reeking of used coffee grounds, rotted food, and the like. Thankfully I have not-so normal means and resources at hand.
I hate calling it hacking. Too many crappy movies, games, and such have filtered through my head to make me feel comfortable calling myself that without feeling somewhat self-conscious and silly. Then again what else would I call my chosen hobby? Electronic infiltration? Bah, that makes it sound like I'm the rarely seen slobby genius in some cop TV show. Electronic Intrusion comes closer to not feeling so over-used, but let's not church up what I do. I hack for fun, the challenge of the puzzle, occasional mean spirited pranks, and sometimes because I'm bored. Now is different. Now I’m hacking because my attempts at going through the system the correct and legal way has failed.
Deep Six practically purred as it gave me status on the servers I'd told it to look for. I wasn’t sure that Chaotic Realms main page would give me anything directly.
Having billing information in the same general area that literally thousands if not millions of people would be poking about is something that would make most IT departments scream. However pulling the curtain back to look at site traffic might give me a lead on where that server might be. Were it up to the underpaid and overworked employees tasked with making sure people such as myself couldn't do what I was attempting, this billing server would be completely cut off from the Internet and then only accessible only by a select few in the company. However there has to be a way for information to get from those little fill in the blank forms to the actual accounting system otherwise Timmy or Sue would not be able to click here to keep their social lives in the toilet, heh, I talk like I’m somehow better. Risky to use my own information to run the trace off of, but I had to be able to follow an intentionally obscured trail and being able to minimize variables such as what the packets, when assembled, were supposed to represent, and when they were originally sent would help.
Were this an ordinary computer this task would be boring, lengthy, and risk either just my account status or more likely legal action against me. The last two were still true, but Deep Six preformed admirably and gave me information based on the user names I'd made it hunt for after finding a way in. Even though my system was fast and my task already done they would have logged my traffic, at least I had to operate under that assumption. Which meant I would have to track down those logs and expunge them Though, more likely than not, they had already sent a duplicate of that traffic to another server in case, like I was now doing, all account records and access logs had been destroyed.
Was I worried? Believe it or not no, not really. Fears of automated processing and flagging of questionable access to the contrary I was fairly sure that they would set flesh and blood security types to sifting through logs and wayward packets just before and after their primary accounting server went down. It would take time for them to connect the dots, time that I spent not only looking for the address information I had come for, but also to look for where the log information had been sent. I didn't like what I saw but really the sort of security around the thing wasn't unexpected. Actually, considering I was a paying customer I felt quite pleased with the lengths they had gone to. Sure, I’d managed to worm my way in, but the machine I was using wasn’t just any old machine. Point of fact, not even the guys that could rightfully brag about their home made systems that could run anything and everything thrown at ‘em could come close to touching Deep Six. Maybe a hand full of others had the kind of power I did, but if so they hadn’t cross paths with me just yet.
What to do? What to do? Even though this discussion is fairly self-incriminating I'm not going to take any of my friends, associates, or anyone else down with me. I'm possibly foolish and arrogant, but that would be Common of me to do to someone else. Still, while I was doing all this I'd checked my mail, no need to make Deep Six do fancy footwork here folks just an ordinary, albeit obscure, email account that belonged to me. Inside I found what I would best term as both a test and challenge. I've signed up for many things over the years. Some harmless learning, others spam that's haunted me and my email server for years, and some of a potentially criminal sort.