I’m currently backing two awesome Kickstarter Projects, and I’d like to share them right here–right now.Read More »
Baptiste, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Empty pizza boxes, dirty cups filled with a zip of old, gooey soy-caf, long overdue laundry and a smell not easily put into a category, fill the room. The cleaning drone has been inactive and out of power for over a month now. Maybe longer.
But at least it’s quiet.
The certified credstick in my palm reads 5000¥. Picked it up this morning from a locker at the train station. Another 10,000¥ were wired in small amounts to a handful of shadow accounts, all authorized to cash out to me. The process of laundering money; within the next four weeks, I will be 500k nuyen richer. Half-a-fraggin-million. Enough to shut me up. Enough for me not to worry. Yet, something about this run irks me in places that shouldn’t ever irk me. It was too easy to get in, too easy to get the data that is worth five-hundred-thousand nuyen. I know it didn’t look like that, but even getting out was too easy, considering the gun shots on ‘Raku property and everything. I don’t even recall an alarm, come to think of it.Read More »
Renraku World Headquarters; Chiba, Japan
Sitting upright in his expensive leather chair, the Japanese man stares at the commlink in front of him. Floating over the table, carved out of the finest woods of this planet, are a dozen windows filled with statistics, numbers and processes, only visible to his image link.
Not one of the images projects an operation, that is completely legal in any business around the globe.
The door to his office slides open, and a young Japanese man enters. He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, every crease in his pants accounted for, the hair systematically arranged down to the last streak hanging over his forehead. His steps are measured, his facial expression calculated. The young man looks professional on every level; perfect and cold.Read More »
//ID > Patrick James Osbourne
//…confirmed :: Status > DocWeagen™ Gold Service
//Vitals > CRITICAL
“That’s him,” the doc in armored jacket says, after scanning the the ID of the nearly dead guy in the dumpster. “Okay boys, get him out’a here. Be careful, he’s got some bad holes, so don’t break him. Here is the stats from his bio – don’t look so good.”
After quickly going over the very alarming vitals, pulled from the target’s biomonitor, the troop of DocWagen™ extraction members follows the order, carefully pulling the man out of the trash.
“Sir,” one of the men says, pointing at the target, “he is armed. Two heavy caliber pistols, two combat knives.”
“You know the protocol, O’Larey. Status confirms the licenses,” says the team leader with a shrug.
They take his weapons and put them into a lockbox, programmed to the fingerprint of the target. The Docs make sure the target is stabilized, stopping the blood loss on the major wounds before they carry him into the DocWagen™ rescue van. There, they tend to every little scratch, disinfecting and patching.
One of the team members turns around, and looking at the gate leading into corporation territory, he says, “What do you think he got shot for, O’Larey?”
O’Larey stares at the community entry sign, proudly broadcasted in AR with soothing lights and friendly colors, and answers, “I don’t know, dude. Sometimes I wonder if we’re maybe saving the wrong people.”
Welcome to SmartSPACE Software & Community Design!
->Where your neighbours are your co-workers<-
–>Your community is your office<–
—>Your family is always around<—
—->Your FUTURE is secure<—-
/\ Live where you work /\ work where you live /\ Enjoy a LIFE of PEACE, SECURITY and FREEDOM /\ APPLY today and become a citizen of SmartSPACE Software & Community Design! /\
/\ [Link] /\
[[SmartSPACE – Associated Subsidiary of Renraku Computer Systems]]
“Today’s Solutions to Tomorrow’s Problems”
Baptiste, inside a Renraku owned community
Two more blocks.
Through my image link, my bio monitor fires all sorts of angry warning onto my augmented reality overlay.
Blood loss and two bullet holes in my right shoulder, blah blah blah, and they all are written in bold and big, ugly red. Up to this point, though, the run went well.
“Sir Baptiste,” my polite agent program in his flawless english butler theme remarks, “your vitals are in critical stage. Should I contact DocWagen™ for you?”
Drek. With a simple thought I abort the request. Yes, I’m injured, got it. Thanks. Though, somehow I believe Renraku won’t give permission to the Docs, to rescue me from their turf.
Behind me, the steps of the security guards echo through the ally. Another gunshot’s hitting the wall to my left, missing me and ripping apart the plaster.
Close one, unlike the first two bullets buried in my shoulder.
Two more blocks and I’m out of the ‘Raku-turf. Though, according to my bio monitor, and the flashing red lights in my AR, I won’t make it. But I’ve got the package. Some hot data from one of the mainframes, labeled <project_ex>.
Even now, as more bullets are closing in and blood’s soaking through my shirt, I have to smile about how easy it was to get the data. Very light security, no Intrusion-Countermeasure program I couldn’t fool. Hard to believe anyone would pay so much nuyen for this little effort – besides my almost certain death after bumping into a security guard, that wasn’t on his scheduled patrol but randomly strolling around. What good is it to hack in and gather input on the security schedules, if the damn guards don’t follow it?
The steps are closing in and I’m still one block from the exit.