Chrome Rain, Chp 3 - Merlin

Chrome Rain - Chapter three


The Digital Ocean
An unprotected public node somewhere in the European data reef
Date: May 15, 2103
02:11 GMT





         Users swam into and out of the public node that floated from the commercially secure reef built into the small suburban library. They were glowing shapes that sometimes chattered what seemed like gibberish to each other. The squawking of communication that filled the ocean, ranged everywhere in the form of emails, file transfers, and vid-messaging. All around the node spread out streams of pulsing sub data that headed for other nodes and reefs, most to the large city island nodes that spanned the global information ocean. The node users were, for the most part, practically open for anyone with some amount of skill and enough persistence, to infiltration. Some had what appeared to be over-the-counter protection that dimmed the glow of their inherent wealth of information. Most had none what so ever. Sprinkled amongst the whole twittering lot, were the occasionally well-protected individuals. Granted, there would be nothing of much worth to garner from the general body of users, if one was interested in monetary wealth.

         It was the data. The data that made up their lives is what made the effort of stripping them truly priceless; their addresses, the name of their Employers, the license number of their four-door utility vehicle, their tax data. With that information, a real data diver could achieve quite a bit of mischief, and not have to worry about getting them caught on a hook line.

         There were so many to choose from; it was like fish in a barrel, so it wasn’t long before divers labeled those that they preyed upon fish. Back in the 20th Century, the hackers, as divers used to call themselves, had a true field day. There was nothing like what a diver had to deal with now. Multi-layer virtual storage with biometric protection measures embedded in data flows that moved so fast that a common personal organization device—or Pod—couldn’t handle the stresses out maneuvering the automated and live watchdogs of secured deep level nodes and reefs.

         Merlin counted the closest fish that would have the juiciest data; he had a natural talent for picking them out that baffled his fellow divers.

         If I wanted to, he thought, that one over there would—with some effort, he brought his mind back to the reason he was in such a node in the first place. The job. He wasn’t worried about it, but he did want to make an impression. He had done lots of work for small gangs and minor governmental officials in the past. This, though...this was the big leagues. A job from the organized crime group known as Better World was a big deal. They had their fingers in everything from black market cyber parts to epidermal tint parlors. From analog drugs to virtual euphoric, they either dealt them or took a piece of the profits that others made.

         Now he was on their payroll. It was crazy.

         He would have shaken his head if he could feel it in the midst of a dive. The memory of all the events that led up to his current position was like something out of a lame diver holo-fiction. He had been surprised when he received a vid-message from an old college buddy not much more than three weeks ago. George Lieter had obviously been doing well for himself. His clothes were custom pieces straight from the Mexican Democracy; His watch was a diamond studded Nixon that nearly blinded Merlin. George had told him that he ended up getting work moving around funds for a minor offshoot of Better World after quitting a not so well paying above board position at an accounting firm. George’s story was wildly entertaining and involved a stolen pedigree dog.

         George had scoffed at Merlin’s modest telling of his many insignificant adventures. He assured Merlin that he could make sure he got a piece of the action if he was willing to take more of a risk with his diving skills.

         After some quick talking, Merlin ended up agreeing to meet up with George’s boss Erick Two-Feathers. Two-Feathers was a well-dressed man. He had an easygoing attitude and was soft spoken. Moreover, he was no fool. It was barely minutes after shaking the man’s hand that Merlin was sitting in front of a high-end diving rig.

         Two-Feathers wanted to see what he could do. He had Merlin break into one of Two-Feathers’ own gaming islands and remove 20,000 Euros without the automated watchdog noticing. Merlin smoothly snuck in under the watchdog’s nose using one the island moderator’s id biometrics signatures, grabbed the funds, left a ghost marker in its place, and was back out in less than three minutes. Merlin had turned to the others with a cocky smile that he had perfected in the mirror years ago. Two-Feathers and George had had the last laugh, though.

         Merlin started spitting a rapid-fire blast of expletives after being told that if the watchdog had caught him it would have fried his brain in real-time.

         George stated firmly, hand covering his grin, that he had no doubt that Merlin would have pulled it off. Two-Feathers, still chuckling, had patted him in a fatherly manner on the shoulder. The diver was still swearing when Two-Feathers told Merlin that he could keep the 20,000 as a signing bonus; he had earned it. Merlin had never earned that much on one job. Heck, he’d earned less on his previous two jobs combined. He mentioned as much to the two other men. George boasted there were opportunities to make amounts that made that look like chump change. He pointed to the rig Merlin sat at and stated nonchalantly that it belong George. “In fact,” George had said with a roguish smile of his own, “this is the least powerful of the four I own!”

         George nodded firmly at Merlin’s disbelieving expression. “In fact, I would suggest that you use that well-earned green and go buy yourself a rig just like it.” George chortled to himself for a moment. “You can order it online and have it waiting for you outside your apartment by the time you got home!”

         That was where Merlin and George always differed. George was always willing to settle for the easy solution. It was like that in college, too. Merlin wasn’t just going to buy some run-of-the-mill rig out of some department store digilog. Most of those rigs had third world components slotted into them and those could blow at a crucial moment. No, he was going to put together a tailor-made one that had all the best parts. It would cost more than he just made, for sure, but it would be worth it. There would be no way a watchdog—living or otherwise—would be able to touch me then, he had thought to himself.

         That day was the start of everything. Erick Two-Feathers had realized Merlin’s skill immediately, and had put him to work as a watchdog in the same gaming island he had proved himself by robbing. It wasn’t long before he was overseeing the eastern gaming archipelago’s security and reporting directly to Two-Feathers. Before Merlin came along, the Business and Entertainment Department of Data Traffic of the Government was busting the islands regularly. Two-Feathers’ watchdogs tried to stay a step ahead of the law but couldn’t protect the smaller islands from seizure.

         The Government B.E.D.D.T. had a hotshot diver that was running circles around Two-Feathers’ own divers. He was cunning and seemed to know what the criminal divers were going to do before they did it. He was able to sniff out the locations of the islands no matter how well hidden within the commercial reefs they were. Two-Fingers suspected a mole or in the gang but he wasn’t able find any evidence to support the threat.

         Merlin didn’t know if it was luck or fate that led him to be put up against the government diver, but as soon as he studied his style and signature ware use, he knew. He knew that he had dealt with him before. He also knew that he could best him at his own game.