But despite anything, I don’t feel myself so confident in my own thoughts.
1
The desert meets me with its hot breath and the genie – with deafening roar:
– You dared to come back, the thief of thieves?
Good program… with memory.
The genie tears his legs from the sand, makes one step, then another. The hair bridge stretches and rings slightly but does not tear yet. Something new – Al-Kabar’s programmers have added mobility to the guard program!
– Stop! – I shout raising my hand, – I came to Friedrich Urman! I’m not in your mercy!
The giant fist quivers above my head, sparks scratching between the fingers.
– Unfamiliar virus detected! – whispers Windows-Home in alarm, – Attention! I turn the “Web” on!
The space covers with slight mist, the antivirus program “Web” starts to cut off a part of incoming information trying to guard the computer from the virus. Not an ideal defense, a good virus will slip into my computer anyway but I don’t stop Vika – she’s in panic… if this word is appropriate here. The genie’s shape flows and becomes blurry.
– Who are you? – roars the monster, its voice is distorted too.
– Diver! – I shout having nothing to hide this time.
– Wait! – orders the genie. Sparks on his palms go off and Vika stops the “Web”.
Nothing else to do and I wait. The monster is motionless, just its eyes sparkle examining me with a strong, almost physically felt gaze. It was just a joke last time – I was let into the mousetrap because they were sure I won’t be able to escape. Now, having their butts kicked, corporate programmers are able to cast all creations of their fantasy on my head and I’m sure that among them is a lot of those that might terrify not only me, not only Maniac but even the old guy Lozinsky himself. It’s a perfect time to remember tales about viruses that destroy the hardware…
– Go ahead! – the monster becomes alive again.
I step onto the hair bridge.
Abyss-abyss…
Now not two cartoony guards meet me but the whole crowd with weapons.
If I were escorted like this last time I’d never be able to steal a megabyte file.
The guards drive me along the streets in the icy silence, I expect that I’ll be taken to the same veranda as it was before but our procession moves past it, right to the gloomy gray building.
They are what, going to imprison me? It’s ridiculous, divers are invincible. It’s possible to prevent us from stealing files but not to lock us in the virtual world.
Some guards stay outside, four others take me into the confinement. Two in front of me, two others behind my back, swords unsheathed. Oh, they definitely will set a virus in my machine, in full volume. Those who happened to survive winchester’s crash would understand me. Once, in a tiny and almost unprofitable operation I managed to catch a very cute virus upon my stupid head. It mixed the FAT and partition table of my hard drive in a uniform cocktail. Maniac spent the whole day trying to recover the remains of data from the dead winchester and saved almost everything while I was bubbling some nonsense about pirated game CD which I had caught the virus from.
If even those dumb guys managed to infect my computer with such nasty thing, I’d better not even try to imagine what those guys from Al-Kabar are capable of.
The door slams heavily behind my back, closing. The confinement is in pitch darkness, I walk by touch, being pushed in the back. Obviously my comm channel is narrowed to its limit to prevent me from stealing anything else. All visual images are cut off.
– Stop! – I hear the command behind and freeze obediently.
Those who surround me can obviously see me absolutely well which doesn’t make me feel better.
– You had the cheek to come here again Ivan?
I recognize Urman’s voice or even the tone of his interpreter, and turn trying not to goggle my blind eyes.
– That was the deal.
– Oh really?
– You gave me the file voluntarily in exchange of the promise of the later meeting.
The pause, a pretty long one. I’m not lying and Urman finds himself in a stupid position. It’s so good – not to lie. What for anyway? There’s so much truth in this world that lies become unnecessary.
– What do you want?
– What do I want? Nothing. It was you who asked me for next meeting, so I guess you have something to offer?
Silence again. Obviously Urman wasn’t expecting me to return after his attempt to trace me. I add just in case:
– Don’t try to trace my channel by the way. Otherwise I’ll leave.
The silence becomes too long and I can mentally see Urman ordering to his guards, “Hey, kick his ass…”
– Restore his channel completely, – orders Urman. – And stop the surveillance.
The bright light. I narrow my eyes studying the insides of the confinement through half-closed eyelids. Gloomy heavy walls, tiny reflecting glass windows behind the bars on top of them. The table and chairs around it located in the center of the room.
– This is a meeting hall, – explains Urman. He’s dressed in a business suit with a tie. Maybe his dress is automatically adjusted according to the interior, I’ve heard about such tricks. – Here we conduct the Board of Directors’ and some other meetings.
I see, the most secured place in the corporate virtual space. One won’t escape from here as easily as from the veranda…
I have nothing to run away with though: I came absolutely unarmed.
– Leave us, – Urman continues ordering.
The guards submit immediately.
– Thanks Friedrich, – I say.
Urman nods silently and sits in one of the armchairs, I set myself nearby.
– So… Have you sold the… apple? – inquires Urman.
– Yes, thank you.
– I’m really glad for you.
It looks like he is not really angry and this makes me suspicious.
– I hope it haven’t too much complicate the financial situation of the corporation?
– No, not really.
I look at Urman questionably.
– I forgot to tell you last time that the cool medicine has a tiny drawback, – notes Urman, – A side effect. We found it almost by chance… I suppose that Mr Shellerbach and Trans-Pharm-Group won’t run into it.
I start feeling uncomfortable.
– Don’t worry diver, it was not your responsibility to test the safety of the drug, – laughs Urman. – Nothing fatal, by the way… neither cancer nor terratogenious effect… but the patients won’t be happy.
Al-Kabar have made a little insurance… I wonder what side effect might the cold reliever have? Changing the skin color into green, impotence, baldness? Urman won’t tell.
Well, from now on I’ll cure my cold with aspirin only for the rest of my life.
– Okay, let’s forget mutual offences! – offers Urman generously.
I nod.
– As I told you before, I have an interesting offer for you… – says Al-Kabar’s director. – A permanent employment.
– No.
We look into each other’s eyes. They say the eyes is the mirror of the soul. The question is whether our virtual bodies do have souls or not?
– Some divers do have permanent contracts, – notes Urman, – So… it means it isn’t forbidden?
– No, it is not but there’s a certain difference between working for an entertainment center or a virtual investigation bureau and the work for you. In a month or two or three you’ll ‘calculate’ me.
– And you fear publicity so much, Ivan?
– Sure I do. We are the alchemists of the virtual world, the wizards. No normal princeling would ever let the alchemist out of the comfortable dungeon… so that he couldn’t invent gunpowder for the enemies.
– So sad… – Urman doesn’t argue. – In many points you’re right, Russian diver. Excuse me but
I know that. Your voice was processed by the analyzer and it was definitely not the interpreter program.
I don’t argue with him either, such a peaceful and nice talk, we are so loyal to each other – what a beautiful look.
– Well then – I offer you a single time collaboration! – says Urman cheerfully, – The work is easy and we pay well.
– Do you really think it’s so easy to get Unfortunate out from “Labyrinth”?
The bull eye! Right in the center! Urman’s face twitches, then he takes his emotions back under control, just a tic under his left eye remains. One to zero! No, five to zero!
– Please explain me what do you mean? – asks Mr director unconvincingly.
– After you.
Either they’ll kill me now or will open their cards.
Urman certainly can stand the blow.
– One of our corporation’s fields of business is demographic control of Deeptown.
I shake my head – I didn’t get it…
– I mean the number of virtuality’s inhabitants at any moment of time, with exact precision, by district, building, space in space like ours.
– Why? Who gave you the right for this?
– It was a common decision, approved a year ago. – shrugs Urman, – In order to compare the load on separate servers, to tie these figures to exact time of day, all this allows to coordinate the work and to reduce the cost of virtual space usage. AOL was one of the main customers, smaller companies had joined too.
And again my neglect to open information puts me in a spot.
– We were controlling according to the number of input-output signals on servers, – Urman goes on, – It’s very simple and reliable, very efficient. Servers report the figures every two minutes. Nobody’s rights are violated while we can know the total number of people in virtuality. It’s not a surveillance, just statistics.
I nod.
– The number of computer supported objects in each space fraction is being controlled in parallel. Thus we know how many people present in this or that part of virtuality. We get reports every two minutes as well. It’s easy to understand that if we total the number of all active objects in all parts of virtuality we’ll get the already known figure – the number of people that entered the Deep.
I understand.
– The figures didn’t match?
– Yes. There’s one person more in virtuality than it should be. Computers can see him, he functions in cyberspace but he never connected to the Net.
Urman rises, waves his hand and the huge screen unwraps on the wall, on top of concrete and steel mesh. I rise too. This is the map of Deeptown and its suburbs looking like sewn of tiny patches. Each patch is a server that supports this part of space. The fine red ‘rash’ is on top of patches, these are gates, phone lines which are used to enter the Deep.
Looks beautiful. All bourgeoises are window-dressers.
– We can check the data by districts, – informs Urman, – For instance…
He steps to the screen, reaches it and points at Al-Kabar’s block with a finger. The numbers 1036/1035 flash up on the display above the screen.
– Is it clear?
– Your servers support 1036 people in your space, including me. And everybody except me are connected through Al-Kabar’s own channels.
– Sure. It’s too risky to let the secret information to pass through somebody else’s lines, even if those are owned by most reliable providers. We have our own channels in 12 cities where our employees live.
– But you can’t detect Unfortunate like that!
I pad to the map, find “Three Piglets” on it, bethink just in time and poke my finger to the nearby ‘institution’. I was there just a couple of times and didn’t like it, too noisy and pompous.
63/2
– This is the more common picture, right? There are 63 people hanging in the restaurant’s space but only two used its own phone channel to connect.
Urman nods.
– We detected “Labyrinth” by other means.
I don’t consider that it’s a cunning and not very friendly interlocutor before me anymore. I’m really curious how to figure out the means they used to detect the person that never entered the Deep.
– Okay… It’s not feasible to trace every and each connection signal: too expensive, too time consuming and also forbidden.
Urman looks at me with such smugness as if it was him who solved the problem instead of ordering to do it to his specialists.
Let’s think, it’s useful sometimes.
Here we have a flow of electronic impulses. It’s not important now where it came from. This is just data – the simple 3D image of a person, Unfortunate. It enters the computer that serves the “Labyrinth“‘s 33rd level, either through the modem or directly into CPU. The computer places the image to the beginning of the level and gets prepared to control its movements, to broadcast its voice to other players, to calculate the effect of its shots, to move the gravels pushed by its feet. Well, and of course to send the images that the player sees with his left and right eye, the sounds that he hears, the pushes he feels through the virtual suit…
Stop – where to send if he never entered the Deep?
The glitch happens here. The computer processes Unfortunate’s actions but doesn’t know where they came from, and where to send the results. Can this be reflected on the server’s performance figures? It should but on very specific ones, something like the ratio between the volume of CPU processed data and the data sent/received through the modem. One should look for this information beforehand in order to find the server with an uninvited guest in several hours…
– You were expecting him, – I say, – You knew that he will come!
– We assumed such possibility, – specifies Urman, – The person able to enter virtuality by himself should have appeared sooner or later.
– Without a computer? – I say these ravings which – how funny – will not seem the ravings for anyone far from computers and networks! This is as ridiculous as to imagine somebody who can connect directly to the phone line, it’s just plain stupid.
But Urman might be all but stupid. He’s a common millionaire who extracts incomes for Al-Kabar from everything: from the Earth’s bowels, retransmitter satellites and runny noses.
– We are not alone to work on alternative means of interactions with computers, – says Urman, – Keyboard, mouse, helmet and suit – all these are the remains of pre-virtual era. The next step is direct connection to the visual and hearing nerves. Plugs… – he rotates his finger by his temple, either doubting his sanity or trying to illustrate the socket implanted behind his ear. – But this way requires too much work on the society’s mentality. It’s much harder to break people’s psychology than to drill the skull and to plug a chip into the brains. If we could avoid that… if we could to just enter virtuality… the world would turn over.
– And you want to turn it over so much?
Friedrich is serious.
– When the world turns over my friend, being the first who stands upside down is the most important thing.
I stay silent, I have nothing to say. Would I want to enter the Deep without computer? Without Vika behind my back? Without the fear before the virus weapons? Without interference on the phone line and without eternal pursuit for modems’ speed?
Funny question, of course I would! But I just don’t believe in this.
But I really want to believe.
– As far as we know, the divers on contract with “Labyrinth” have tried to drive Unfortunate out, – says Urman carelessly.
I nod, their intelligence works well. Just what wouldn’t the dollars do if applied in the right time and in the right amount!
– …And also someone, known as Gunslinger, – adds Urman, – Also the diver, I assume?
– Yes, it was me.
Urman nods.
– Then I expect the promised explanations.
Maybe the best thing at
this point would be to whisper “abyss-abyss” and to vanish but I just can’t do that after Urman’s sincerity. The hole in the skull is really much simpler than the hole in one’s life principles.
– Soon after our first meeting I was forced to meet…
Urman raises the eyebrow.
– Yes, that’s right, forced to meet a person whose name I don’t know. He offered me to sort out the situation that emerged in “Labyrinth”. He didn’t explain any details. Only later did I understand that he was talking about Unfortunate.
– We call him Swimmer, – notes Urman, – in analogy with you gentlemen.
– Basically, that’s it, – I say. I really hate to be interrupted.
– Was the reward promised to you?
– Yes.
– A big one?
– A huge one… – I can’t help myself and add: – I’d say that you won’t be able to offer me more.
Urman is very serious, the talk became a business one but he doesn’t yet argue or try to prove Al-Kabar’s coolness.
– How had that person found you and why exactly you?
– He organized the dragnet for the divers and I… had exposed myself a little.
– Do you have any ideas of his personality?
– Absolutely none, – I say honestly but maybe not honestly enough: Urman is silent, looking into my eyes questionably. Maybe my words are analyzed by the lies detector and somebody reports the results to him…
– Just one more detail. He knew about my visit… to you. And he was well informed about the talk that took place. The fact that you wanted to offer me the same job was also known by him.
Urman holds the blow. Hadn’t he hold enough of them in his life? But the shaking eyelid can be seen on the mask of tranquility. It’s always unpleasant to learn about the spy by your side.
– Thank you, diver.
I smile leniently. What a trinket… Let the two spiders twitch in their cobwebs…
– Can you tell anything about Swimmer?
I shrug.
– Nothing special. Just a person. Sometimes there was an impression that he has Deep– psychosis, he takes what’s going on too seriously. Otherwise he’s quite adequate.
Labyrinth of reflections lor-1 Page 19
