Technobabel

he knew there was a real possibility he might never be able to get out of the room without Babel's help. "I have the codes for the security system," Saigo said as if reading Lanier's thoughts. "I could get you out of here with me. You can do with the boy what you want." Lanier considered that offer. It was tempting, but he doubted Saigo would ever let him walk out of here alive, and certainly not with Babel and all his information about the otaku. "I don't think so, Saigo. Babel needed to get back to you for a reason, and I'm willing to bet it's going to hurt Renraku more than it will me. And if I'm wrong and I don't have a shot at getting what he knows, then I'm going to make sure nobody ever gets it."

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?… My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? -Matthew 27:46 Inside the Renraku private local telecom grid, I work my technomancy. Jacked into the terminal inside the Renraku installation, I have access to the central nodes of the company's communications system-all of the important corporate data-processing centers. From outside, the grid is protected by a wall of ice, a virtual glacier so powerful nothing could possibly break through without suffering terrible damage and setting off every alarm in creation. From within, the system is open to anyone with the means, and I have the power of my cha

A samurai stands guard outside of the room. I pull my cloak close around me and step closer. Taking a small pinch of glittering dust from my pouch and executing a deep bow, I whisper the words to transform the appearance of my persona in the eyes of the guardian, a simple illusion. The samurai's lifeless eyes stare back at me and he steps aside as the door slides open. The room within is Spartan in its simplicity. A nobleman, dressed in a silk kimono showing the Renraku dot-and-waveform logo design sits behind a low desk on the floor. On the desk are writing implements, paper and ink held in delicate porcelain vessels. Two armored samurai stand behind the noble, their faces as impassive as stone. The nobleman produces beautiful calligraphy on the creamy pages of rice paper set before him, then folds them carefully and passes them into the hands of a messenger to take them out of the room. These are the instructions from the central routing processors, directing e-mails, faxes, and other data from Renraku headquarters out to the four corners of the world. Closing the door panel behind me, I approach the nobleman. Without warning, the two samurai spring to life and move toward me. My deception did not fool them, and I extend my senses toward them. They are SKs! Semi-Autonomous Knowbots are near legendary in the Matrix; sophisticated adaptive programs that come near to being artificially intelligent. Renraku created them and has no doubt improved them over the years. They are too sophisticated to be fooled by my illusions and deceptions. If I am to succeed, I have to get past the knowbots without letting them set off an alarm in the system. Already the system is trying to send out word of my intrusion. I send Rook winging away to lead the signal astray and buy me some time. The samurai draw their katanas and step closer, sandaled feet slapping against the tatami mats covering the floor. I flip my cloak aside and show my own sword, the blade gleaming. Bakemono huddles near my left leg, baring his fangs and snarling at the approaching warriors.

Then they are upon me without warning. I raise my sword to block the attack of one samurai while I spin to the side to avoid the slash of the other. The blades swing silently, but there is a clang when the katana strikes my own sword, and I push the blow to the side. "Bake, attack!" I command, and my goblin-spirit leaps out with a fierce cry, slashing and biting at one of the samurai, who is driven back by the sudden fierceness of the onslaught. I concentrate on the other and bring my sword up to block another attack, thrusting toward a possible opening. The samurai blocks my attack. The knowbots are fast, and good at their work. I block another attack to the side, and I can feel the senses of the samurai probing, trying to find a weakness in my defenses. They are confused by me. I am not like any other decker they have ever seen before. It makes them hesitate slightly. They need time to adapt. I make it cost them. I take advantage of the momentary opening to strike past the first samurai's defenses. My flashing sword co