Hinami Neon, Day 2 - 3504

Toshiro was happy. The neck he was inspecting showed no signs of discoloration or and looked like it would heal with scarring. Before him were four shirtless boys, each bending their necks forward so that he could inspect the back of their necks. A few days ago he had implanted a chip into the boys and now it looked like they were ready for field-testing. The chip was simple enough to implant; once placed near the nerve cluster the implant virtually installed itself, and allowed someone to insert apps into the target individual. Those apps could be anything from a set of skills to sets of instructions, and promised to net Sakura Corporation yet another fortune in a wide variety of different industries such as self-help, education, and even the military.

In over forty years of working for Sakura Corporation he had never created anything as innovative as the neuro-chip now in the necks of the four boys. Combining a number of different technologies into one piece of hypo-allergenic plastic, this was the opus of his scientific career, and would surely make his name immortal in the annals of Sakura Corporation. This was the last thing he would ever create for them, and looked forward to enjoying many evenings with his wife and many grandchildren. He just needed to ensure that the chips actually worked.

Looking at his handiwork, he was almost impressed at the lack of signs that there had been an operation. Going with cellular adhesives had been a risk considering the possibility of discoloration, but would virtually eliminate the chances of scarring; the incisions had completely healed with no signs of either. He finished his inspections and motioned for the boys to leave. They dressed and quickly left the room, leaving the scientist alone in the now all-too-sterile laboratory.

Toshiro now had to let his superior know about his success so far. He had grown nervous when he realized he was working directly for not just the vice president, but the son of the chairman. The chairman’s son was known for playing fast and loose with the rules, and he rewarded those he favored with tremendous favors; promotions and huge financial rewards were just the beginning of that favor. But…he was also known for punishing those that crossed him, and death was rarely awarded without severe punishment first. Those that displeased were known to disappear and were only found in the obituary column of the corporation newsletter if they were found at all.

This had explained why every request for funding had been granted and why some of his fellow researchers acted nervous around him. If Mayashi had not been killed in a lab accident then perhaps Taneka would never have inspected the lab and given Toshiro his private number. While Toshiro was initially very proud to have received the number, he quickly began to grow apprehensive when Taneka would call him for daily updates instead of the weekly updates Mayashi had asked for, especially when there was the slightest air of impatience. Fortunately he had been close to a breakthrough or he was sure he would have broken down by now.

He picked up his phone and dialed. Surprisingly, it didn’t go straight to voice-mail as he hoped it would. He was talking to Vice President Taneka himself.  

“You have news, Toshiro?” Taneka was more brusque than Toshiro was used to, but at least this would make things easier. One way or another.

“Yes, sir. The implants have taken. I have sent the subjects on their appointed rounds, as per request.”

“Very good, Toshiro. You have done Sakura a great favor.”

“Thank you, sir.” Toshiro put down his clipboard. His throat was suddenly very dry; he gulped hoping some saliva would wet his throat. “May I now continue with my retirement plans?”

“Your family will reap the rewards we would have showered on you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Taneka hung up. Toshiro had been questioning if he would be able to live his retirement in peace, or if he would be able to live period. Taneka’s response made his future very clear very quickly. This was something that the vice president had wanted done not for the company’s gain but for his own business. He was unsure of what to do, as the research itself was automatically backed up on company servers and the fruits of his research had just left his laboratory. No doubt the gear to program the chips now in the boy’s necks had been developed by another group just as the operating system on the chips had been designed by someone other than himself. It was just a matter of time before an assassin’s bullet found him.

He found himself drawn to a number of syringes filled with various chemicals. The chloral hydrate has the obvious choice: Used in knock-out drops, an overdose of the chemical would put him out and he wouldn’t even know it.  He raised an eyebrow as he debated whether it would be better to take his own life, however cowardly the means, or to wait for the assassin’s bullet he was sure was coming….

*     *     *     *     *

Steel’s HMMWV stopped long enough to drop off Ramone and Dish. Both guys looked around to make sure that there were no cameras, and then Dish started getting his notebook ready to go as Ramone went up to a Sakura Pop machine and set his briefcase down. Ramone started rocking the machine and, once he got enough momentum, started walking the machine far enough away from the wall so that Dish had enough room to work. When it was out a couple of yards, he bent over, breathing hard. He recovered quickly.

“Just think, Dish; you could make enough from this op to take care of your problem.”

Dish had ripped a cord from the vending machine and was splicing its connecting cord into his notebook. While the vending machine used wireless to transmit credit information, Dish could create a more secure connection if he used the machine’s router itself rather than just hitching on the signal. As such he had to hack a little more literally than normal.

“Which problem?”

Ramone checked his knives. He wanted to make sure Dish was protected while he hacked but wanted to do it as casually as possible. “Your girl problem. Or is it boys?” Ramone smirked as Dish blushed a little.

“Girls. And I have the ‘problem’ well in hand.” He picked up the pace a little. It was a simple enough splice and he had brought all of the right tools.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what we’re trying to stop.” Ramone opened up the briefcase. The machine gun inside came with a swivel mount, all controlled by a small remote, which Ramone pocketed. He started setting up the gun.

“You mentioned something about ‘setting up an appropriate interface’…” Dish had completed the splice and was getting into a comfortable position with his back against the wall.

“Yeah, but let’s complete this first, okay?” Ramone had set up the machine gun and was testing the remote.

“If we survive this, sure.” Dish unreeled a cord from the notebook and plugged into the back of his neck. He assumed a meditative posed and fell unconscious.

“Here’s hoping for beers at Tyrell’s later, kid. Non-alcoholic for you, of course.” Ramone looked over the street. He quickly found a doorway that would hide him while allowing a good view of Dish. He walked over to the doorway.

*     *     *     *     *

Dish always relished rezzing into the cyberscape. While it was of the highest resolution, it was still off just enough to separate it from the real world. His chosen form was in honor of his aunt’s restaurant: It resembled an old-school dishwasher in white jeans and t-shirt with an apron and cap. The buildings of San Angeles had been replaced with logos everywhere, and avatars and data were flying everywhere.

He took a moment a to get his bearings, and then got down to work.

“LAN arrival OK. Loc ref-point Sakura Corp HQ.”

He was surrounded in a blue tube and found himself flying straight towards a monstrous pagoda. He quickly arrived and was able to pass through the outer shell with no problem; the local security programs, interpreted as ninja in the cyberscape, ignored him. He allowed the blue tube to take him further in, and then stopped for a moment.

“Nice place. Crypto-rithims go.”

A fork rezzed in his hand and he threw it at a door in the pagoda. The fork faded in silver glow as the door turned a shade of yellow. He went through the door.

“Basic boring security. Map-out go flag-passkey.”

A line of red dots appeared before him, leading him through a number of corridors. A number of ninja looked at him, but let him go. His security pass was working. He finally ran into a door guarded by an a pair of impressive samurai. Both samurai animated and charged. His pass was apparently good enough for the ninja but not specific defenses. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh please. IC-melter load.”

Computer code flashed through Dish’s metallic eyes as the program loaded. The samurai were almost on top of him.

“Reflecs cloud go.”

Dish was surrounded by a cloud of spoons as the samurai stabbed at him. Dish left the cloud and flew through the door as the samurai attempted to kill the cloud of spoons. The cloud of spoons soon wrapped themselves around the samurai, making the samurai disappear, and derezzed.

*     *     *     *     *

Steel’s HMMWV skidded to a stop right in front of the Sakura Building. He parked it and he dismounted along with Cass.

Steel checked his watch. “I wish he would hurry up.”

Cass unsnapped her gun. “Could be worse. He’s not that bad.”

Steel stretched. “True.”

*     *     *     *     *

A line of red dots led Dish into a room. On a pedestal lay a daimyo’s mask; the mask was the visual representation of a coder’s backdoor, created in case he had to quickly adjust the code of the pagoda. Dish grabbed the mask and put it on. A faded image of samurai covered his avatar, just transparent enough so that his avatar was visible. His disguise would fool any automated security in the pagoda, but human troubleshooters could still tell it was him. Hopefully it was enough for this run.

“Passkey accepted. Map-out directory: sec.dot.lobby.main. I am so tired of this iconography.”

His line of red dots quickly led him to him a digital rice paddy complete with peasants. This was obviously the office grunts. It had to be a royal pain to work here. He quickly found a camera icon and flew up to it. He looked into the lens, and smiled at what he saw. He rezzed a knife and stuck into the camera; the camera turned blue.

“Note to self: SakuraSec sucks. Lobby weapon systems are slaved to the camera, making the weapons as easy to override as the cameras. Steel will be happy.”

With the cameras now slaved to his avatar, he decided to take an additional measure. Code flashed in his eyes and he rezzed a fork. He stuck the fork into the camera and it was covered with a silver glow. One of his eyes was covered with a view of the lobby.

*     *     *     *     *

Steel’s watch beeped. Steel looked at it: “These security systems are a :)! Now touring.” Steel smiled.