Stone Blade

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Stone Blade Page 28

by James Cox


  Success came none too soon! One of the Firsts must have been within the Dome. User 'klitho' appeared and began querying areas well beyond Micah's clearance.

  A flash in the corner of his eye brought Micah back to his burn. Several other users appeared but Micah had no time for them now. Some manner of security trace had its outer tendrils around Micah's tunnel. Micah's warez adapted but that only attracted more attention. Working with patience he wanted desperately to be speed Micah tried to sync onto the trace. No luck! It latched onto the tunnel firmly and began probing its structure.

  Micah fired a connection from the net's non-secure area to Ferrel's datamart account. The slirp acknowledged him happily and formed a tunnel to him. The trace flattened and began sliding around the outside of Micah's tunnel. With a delicacy he hadn't used in years Micah slit the tunnel and peeled its outer layer. Micah forked the datamart tunnel sloppily, no time for finesse here, and wrapped the trace around it. The trace locked into place around the datamart tunnel. Micah carefully pushed it away from his terminal. The sysaccess area heated to a spiky turbulence as more security locked onto the slirp. Micah felt like shouting in frustration.

  Success! Users 'jfrond,' 'qmaas,' and 'pjuch' were now logged in.

  Working with exacting precision Micah focused on Frond. He found the connection easily since the Firsts hardly needed to hide on their own net! Micah wrapped a delicate probe around the connection and synchronized with it. He followed it to the satellite feed area. Once outside sysaccess Micah tightened the probe and, using a technique similar to dealing with the trace, forked the connection. He then sealed it and attached it to his terminal. Forking away the other two connections offered no additional difficulty but did require precious time. Micah looked at syaccess dismally. By now human burners were scanning and checking things. That Micah still had a connection told him they'd not seen it yet but that could change very quickly.

  Slowly, very slowly, Micah shrank his sysaccess tunnel. With equal care he dismantled his other connection. He didn't need either now and he definitely didn't need attention! The three forked tunnels lay quiescent: a balm to Micah's nerves.

  The UNA connected slowly. Understandable with the news happening. After a long delay Micah managed to activate Ferrel's chat module. A chat opened instantly.

  'K: Things are heating up here.'

  'S: Good. I have three.'

  Micah waited with little patience. Several functionaries moved around the floor below with official types directing them. One man read the current official release while several reporters tried for questions.

  Micah widened his connections to the three Firsts almost to the width required to pass data. And he waited.

  'K: How's the floor there?'

  'S: Fine.'

  'K: Have the secondary information ripples started yet?'

  'S: No idea. Been busy.'

  'K: Are there any...'

  Mica's screen flashed with the connection he'd been wanting.

  'F: In and hot. Security's a bastard tonight.'

  Micah wasted no time connecting directly to Ferrel's machine. Ferrel himself was jacked into an automatic teller in Unity's largest bank. He accepted Micah's forked tunnels and attached them to his terminal.

  'F: Care to watch?'

  Micah tried to suppress envy as Ferrel smoothed out the tunnels, shaped them and forked them again; all three in less time than it had taken Micah for one. With that done he let them dangle loose as he connected to Kidwell.

  Kidwell, now burned into the Unity Stock Exchange as a broker, caught Ferrel's tunnels and merged them. More easily than had Micah but less so than Ferrel.

  Now Micah started to relax. The tunnels widened and data began flowing along them.

  'F: I want you to know it grates on my soul to slurp this much loot without taking any!'

  'K: *whispermode* Go ahead, F. I'm sure S won't ... Oops! Did I just post that?'

  'S: Bottomfeeder. *cucumber mode'

  'F: Dogs are sniffing! Transaction complete enough. Phase 3?'

  'S: Do it.'

  Micah terminated the chats. The three tunnels, no longer connected to his terminal, pulsed with the data flowing through them. He slid a careful probe along one of them into the satellite feed. Nothing! No 'dogs.

  Feces!

  Micah narrowed the probe and slid into sysaccess. Still nothing!

  Mentally muttering profanity against the infinite irony of the universe Micah thickened his probe.

  Finally! Several 'dogs began sniffing. Micah tweaked one and led it to Juch's tunnel. Then another to Maas' and finally to Frond's. Micah sent a small, spiky pulse down each trace. Then he logged out, powered down and jacked out.

  Rustling chaos ruled the floor below them. Several of the reporters around Micah left the room only to return with chog a few minutes later.

  Micah rose, stretched and followed one sharp-eyed reporter to the chog machine. Micah ordered one double-strength, amazed that he actually needed it.

  Next came the longest three and a half hours Micah had ever endured. With the burn in place and the evidence planted he still could not leave. To do so in the middle of a news event would rouse suspicion and worse. Micah waited.

  After a time things calmed. With no hostile League maneuvers the Unity forces stood down. Several official spokesmen reported this several different ways, speculators speculated and interviews blossomed wherever a newshawk could find someone in official Unity garb. Micah saw the snoring lady talking officially to the cleaning crew.

  With the floor mostly clear Micah and about half the cadre there headed for the exits. Some to try for an unofficial official word or ten, others for other tasks. Micah merged with the latter trickle and left the Dome.

  ***

  “... called physical security,” explained Ferrel, “Even though he wasn't in an office he was still on the local net. Not totally internal, but... Micah!”

  Ferrel and Kidwell both looked up. Each had a glass of something that looked potent. Micah helped himself to one of Kidwell's strong 'sticks and plopped into a chair.

  “Well,” smiled Ferrel, “Are your shorts clean?”

  “Barely,” said Micah, “and you'd better have another glass or one of you is doing without!”

  The drink was definitely stronger than Unity ale. From whence it came Micah did not ask nor did the other two tell.

  “The Exchange was mighty hot for off-hours trading,” reported Kidwell, “Even without our subtle manipulations there should be some favorable moves tomorrow. I can't model chaos well enough for exact numbers but some of the stocks should skyrocket. Charlie even worked in some automata contingencies if they don't.”

  “Bank security was hot and tight,” said Ferrel, “No offense, my brother, but it was definitely for the best that I was there. I didn't have any trouble slicing salami. The hole I made will be full by close tomorrow and well before backups. Once I actually had the accounts open they were a lot easier to manipulate. I still wish you had let me tap another bank for the transfers.” On seeing Micah's expression Ferrel made a placating gesture. “But I didn't so we're still cryo. I did add a small time-sync variance for the transactions. I had time and it wasn't hard.”

  Micah nodded. “The Dome burn went well.” He handed Ferrel the logs and began detailing the burns.

  “Not bad, Micah, my brother! We'll make a burnmaster out of you yet! You too, Vera. I'll compress everything and have 'em ready to blip in twenty. Anything you want to tell Ted?”

  Micah thought for a moment and began composing his message.

  By nine the next morning Micah and Kidwell wandered purposefully, measuring crowds outside the Unity Exchange. Transactions from the previous night wouldn't begin execution until ten but Micah wanted to be in place with a good read on the crowd. When the Exchange opened they took places in the visitor's gallery. A small refectory dominated one corner so Micah grabbed a table and ordered tea.

  Micah monitored several sectors closely. The U
nity Exchange, as any stock exchange, representing the heart and blood of commerce and the economy, reacted uneasily to rumors of war. Though stable, relatively, during times of peace or times of conflict, the market wavered wildly during transitional periods. During peace some sectors prospered, during war others did.

  The day began with a marked downward trend. Nervous holders began dumping certain shares, some of the ones Micah chose among them. That fueled another small dip which recovered as quickly as it started as aggressive investors purchased shares at fortuitously reduced prices. Kidwell returned to the table a little before ten, almost-smiling.

  “We're doing well, lover,” she said, sipping her tea, “Any word?”

  “Charlie blipped a while back. Ted managed a rogue monitor on the Exchange. They can see it but they can't do a thing about it.”

  “All the better!”

  When the transactions began rolling at ten the market exhibited all the volatility Micah had hoped to see. By the time the last one completed Micah saw eight downward trends they anticipated and a few more they hadn't. After half an hour the market settled to a slow downward trend.

  “There's too much pessimism,” said Kidwell, “It should be rebounding by now. This is not good.”

  “It's within parameters,” said Micah, “We have to allow for inertia and events to catch up. Besides, it really doesn't matter what happens now.”

  “Except to the people with their fortunes here,” gloomed Kidwell, “We really don't want to ruin them.”

  Micah shrugged. Better, still, than the alternative.

  The rumors began just after lunch. Most of the shares Micah selected showed uncharacteristic variance and a host of others reacted sympathetically. The noise from the floor increased and the Exchange began moving faster.

  Kidwell, seated and eating at Micah's insistence, called up a newscast.

  “Flaming sweet,” she said after checking several other 'casts, “There is a delicate aroma of scandal in the air. No official word yet but more than one unflappable source is flapped. Blip Ted. Now is the time to lower the heat a bit.”

  Micah had the message composed and waiting. Blipping took mere seconds!

  ***

  Fresh news moved with winged feet! Half the League forces in orbit had withdrawn to a secondary position. Though still present, they represented much less of a threat now. The Exchange reacted sluggishly but well. Rumors of League withdrawal began even without Kidwell's help. The Unity forces reacted by reinforcing their positions which elicited no League response whatsoever. Micah's terminal bleeped.

  “Urgent blip from Charlie. Shall we depart?”

  They met Ferrel near the Dome. The crowds buzzed with various bits of news and Micah could feel the relief, palpable and strong.

  “Double-A blip from Ted,” said Ferrel, “Our friend Brother wants to talk.”

  “Send a meet point,” said Micah, “You and I will take it.”

  Micah scanned the street with eyes barely above the newsmod. He and Ferrel stood beside a newsstand listening to the crowd speculating. Georges alMarklin didn't keep them waiting long.

  “Pardon, brother. Can you assist me?”

  “Gladly,” said Micah, “If I am able.”

  “I have a hover waiting.”

  As Micah slid into the nondescript sedan he slapped a spider where it would not be easily seen. Kidwell, slouching in a hover nearby, fired up her terminal.

  “There have been disturbing developments,” said alMarklin.

  “These are not calm times. But caution and considered action will triumph, I'm sure.”

  As alMarklin drove he tried to pry loose some information. Micah and Ferrel held their peace and their amusement. Though subtle to alMarklin the probes were crude and amateurish to the League agents. And quite amusing! Finally alMarklin parked in front of an unremarkable building and handed Micah a card.

  “I'll wait here,” he said.

  ***

  When Micah and Ferrel entered the room two men stood to greet them.

  “I'm glad you came,” said Orris, “We were not certain you would.”

  Micah eyed Orris' companion. An older man, he stood solidly and with certainty. Though not tall he radiated a presence that elevated him above his height. His slightly-round face bespoke the innocence of youth, or just beyond, but his eyes gave lie to it. When Micah met the man's gaze he found a well of knowledge far beyond the man's years. The man measured Micah even as Micah did likewise. Then he did the same to Ferrel. Those keen eyes drank in every detail and fed it to a sharp and capable mind.

  “An honor,” said the man, gesturing toward seats, “You may call me Kermit.”

  Litho, supplied Micah.

  “As you might guess, Joshua has given me some information. Information of a less than delicate nature.”

  “These are turbulent times,” said Micah.

  “Indeed.” Once again Litho's gaze assayed them. “In such times tragedy and regret are more easily committed than avoided. A moment of haste can lead to a lifetime of regret. Or worse.”

  “Truth,” said Micah.

  Litho smiled as he conceded Micah the march.

  “There are rumors,” said Litho, “Rumors of indiscretion. Perhaps you have heard them?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Another smile, this one a bit wider.

  “I shall be frank, then. Young Joshua has shown me evidence of certain transgressions. The detail need not burden us but the fact is indisputable. And less than surprising.”

  “Such disclosure would be calamitous,” offered Micah.

  “Indeed. Consensus would be impossible and unity would be shattered.”

  “A path to be avoided,” said Micah, “Most emphatically.”

  “A favorable solution is possible,” said Litho, “However this morning brought more troubling news.”

  “How so?”

  “Among those who should lead by immaculate example there are rumors of a more selfish motive. It is possible that some few seek personal gain from such events that might transpire, did not reason prevail.”

  “A disgrace,” said Micah.

  “Quite so.”

  On the verge of speaking, Orris fell silent at a gaze from Litho.

  “Such dishonorable acts must be handled,” said Litho, “The Unity must be strong. With excess, iron shatters and steel is impossible.”

  “Truth,” replied Micah.

  “Here is my conundrum. Were the pressure less, the steel might yet emerge, pure and lacking imperfection.”

  “Again, truth.”

  “My question, then. Can you order the League forces to withdraw?”

  “The decision is not mine alone,” said Micah, “But yes, with proper assurances. None of us, none, wish to see blood shed.”

  “Truth,” said Litho, “You speak with honor yet you are not of the Unity. I shall listen.”

  Micah hid his smile. Success! Now was just a matter of working out the details of it!

  “The return of our hostages,” said Micah, “would be seen with much favor.”

  “A gesture of goodwill,” said Litho, “Perhaps not instantly, but with certainty and in good health.”

  Micah nodded. “Our desires beyond that are well-known. Setting them aside,” Micah met Litho's gaze evenly and without wavering, “Before long you will be making a very important decision. One requiring weighty consideration and deliberation.”

  “Yes?”

  “A decision which must with absolute imperative benefit the Unity. We do not in any way wish to interfere with this decision.”

  “But?”

  “A question. Need that decision be to your interest alone?”

  Litho regarded Micah for a long time.

  “You walk a dangerous path, stranger. The needs of the Unity shall prevail.”

  “I do not speak otherwise,” said Micah, “The question I ponder is the path on which those needs lie. We do not seek to corrupt the Unity. Nor, indeed, to change it. We do
not seek to rule a single world beyond those who have us willingly. What we do seek is peace and prosperity, both for ourselves and those with whom we trade.”

  Litho considered this for quite a time.

  “It is possible that such a man might be found. One who would serve the Unity with absolute faith and unwavering purpose. Yet, open to consideration of your interests. Such a man would be strong in the Unity, first and only.”

  “Honest,” added Micah.

  “Accomplished in leadership.”

  “Open to skies beyond his own.”

  “A champion of the people,” said Litho, “And one who speaks the truth as a matter of course, even when falsehood would better serve.”

  Litho and Micah both turned toward Orris. His eyes widened as he followed their reasoning to its conclusion.

  “No!” said Orris, “May I be forgiven, this cannot be!” Orris gaze at Micah turned hostile.

  “Why so, Brother Joshua? Have your thoughts not turned so?”

  “Forgive me, First. I abase myself humbly.” Orris swallowed hard before continuing. “Often have I stood penance for my ambition! You know this!”

  “Well indeed, younger brother. Too often you do take penance for transgressions you have not committed, save in your thoughts. Is this not the goal to which you strive?”

  Orris' expression grew tortured. He didn't want to answer honestly but he could not do otherwise.

  “Yes, First.”

  “Have you not worked, even against odds past sanity, to clean the foulness from those about you?”

  “Yes, First. What matters the goal when those who should exemplify righteousness and purity do not?”

  “Indeed. And when you overcame those obstacles did you not turn from prideful indulgence in your accomplishment and toward your next goal?”

  “Yes, First.”

  Litho nodded with satisfaction.

  “Then why do you object, young brother?”

  Orris looked down with considerable shame.

  “It is not something I wish handed me, First. It is my desire, may I be forgiven it, to attain that of which you speak, but the accomplishment or failure to be mine alone.”

 

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