Asterion Noir: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 4) Page 11

  “I’m saying if they didn’t, it was done by persons having intimate knowledge of their manufacturing process and the characteristics of their installation software. The second part can be learned by studying samples of their products, but the first not so much. The far simpler explanation is that employees within Ridani Enterprises itself embedded the virutox. It could be rogue operatives, or it could be an official corporate initiative.”

  Perrin spoke up from the couch. “It can’t be an official corporate initiative—at least, not without the Guides’ blessing.”

  She’d already had this same debate with herself, but it wouldn’t hurt to talk through it aloud. “I agree. Dashiel Ridani has a reputation as a ruthless businessman, but he didn’t earn the reputation by being cracked. Using one of his own products to spread a virutox without the Guides’ approval wouldn’t just ruin his business and his career, it would ruin him. He’d be lucky to get reinitialized with the skill set of a store clerk.”

  “Screw that. He’d get stored.”

  Her head whipped sharply over to Joaquim. No one got stored. According to the official historical records, it had happened three times in Dominion history, all in the distant past. Even if only the smallest iota of a kernel survived an exceptional-grade retirement and reinitialization, everyone got a fresh start.

  Joaquim shrugged. “I’m just saying. You don’t defy the Guides so blatantly. Not unless you’re a rebel, or about to become one.”

  “But then you’re suggesting the unthinkable—that the Guides are behind this?” Perrin’s voice rose in pitch as she rushed toward the end of the sentence.

  Nika gestured for her to calm down. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have an augment, which we know came from Ridani Enterprises, and it is corrupted by malware. Our first answers are going to be found at Ridani Enterprises.”

  Joaquim nodded firmly. “We infiltrate their HQ and slice into their data servers for evidence. I like it.”

  “I thought you would. I’m going to complicate matters, though—this time, we do want to get in and out without them knowing we were there. We don’t want to alert whoever is behind this until we’ve learned a lot more about what they’re doing and why.”

  Joaquim winced, but after a second rolled his eyes in grudging agreement. “So a small, tech-heavy infiltration team loaded up with stealth gear. Give me two hours to put together an operation plan.”

  “Sounds good. I need to chase down Cair and thank him for doing stellar work, then I need to prep some slicing routines.” She turned back to Perrin. “I want a new directive implemented across NOIR, effective immediately: no new augments, routines, programs or hardware until they’ve been rigorously vetted. No one else is getting infected.”

  18

  * * *

  Even set among a sea of shining towers, Ridani Enterprises HQ gleamed like a beacon in the night. In Asterion society the wealthy earned their riches, and if properly earned were not expected to be ashamed of them. There was certainly no shame here. Every centimeter of the building broadcast wealth, success, worth.

  They’d brought a small team—only Joaquim and Ryan accompanied Nika. With a single target, they didn’t need multiple independent teams, and the more people on the scene the greater the chances of someone tripping up and bringing security down on them.

  Ryan would get them around the security systems when needed, she would slice into the server to derive its contents, and Joaquim would protect them both while they did their work.

  As they had expected, perimeter security was minimal—this was a civilian business office, not a government installation—and they slipped through it using kamero filters and a few broadcast interference fields. Simmed IDs of company employees whose names Joaquim had pulled from the city registry got them inside the building and past the automated lobby checkpoint. But the IDs didn’t authorize them for data vault access, as that level of specifics was not available in the city registry for pilfering, so from here on in they were straight-up criminals.

  Technically the use of simmed IDs and kamero filters was also criminal behavior, merely less criminal.

  As soon as they stepped into the lift, Ryan knelt in front of the control panel and interfaced a small crypto module to it. The lift began ascending, and the rising floor indicators acted as a reverse countdown timer on his work.

  “A special passcode is required to even stop at the data vault on Level 28. Cracking it in 3…now.” Ryan removed the module and stood as the lift slowed to a stop, then gestured to the exit. “I believe this is our floor.”

  “Kamero filters back on. Switch to comms.” Joaquim exited first, rifle-modded Glaser extended as he swung it from left to right and back again.

  Joaquim: “The entire floor is the data vault. Security checkpoints guard all three entrances to the vault itself, but we’ll use the service entrance in the rear. Less chance of company.”

  The building was quiet and largely empty, but Nika held no illusions it was completely empty. Someone would always be working. Then there were the roving dynes—maintenance, support, security and otherwise.

  They crept down three hallways and wound around to the far opposite corner of the level from the lift. The checkpoint they were met with was dyne-staffed, of course.

  Joaquim fired a precision stun wave to knock the attendant out in such a manner that could later be mistaken for a malfunction. One of Ryan’s pets, a combat drone loaded with spikes that he’d named ‘WheatleyBot,’ materialized out from behind Ryan’s kamero filter to confuse the clearance check system until Ryan was able to bypass it altogether. The barrier force field vanished, and they hurried through the opening.

  Joaquim: “The dyne should be out for eighteen to twenty minutes, so take your time, Nika. Not too much time, though.”

  Nika: “Controlled chaos. I like it.”

  Joaquim snorted under his breath. “Don’t we know it.”

  They stepped through the entrance to the data vault and stopped. Row after row, stack after stack, cluster after cluster of quantum-grade hardware greeted them for a hundred meters in three directions.

  Ryan sighed audibly. “Oh, boy.”

  She was smiling as she took in the layout of the room, however. “It’s fine. There will be an access point…” one more visual sweep, and she pivoted to the left and strode down a row “…over here.”

  Sure enough, at an intersection of rows a bulky person-sized module disrupted the clean, sleek lines of the servers.

  While she didn’t possess the kind of uber-limb augment that was causing Parc so much trouble, her fingertips did act as an extension of her mind. When she activated her data interface mode, she also opened a tunnel through the nex web to NOIR’s private data server, effectively turning her body into a conduit.

  init portnex

  < open Ηq(RE1) |n0 → Υ

  handshaking

  < Σ → β

  Checksum:

  < βθαα βα θαθ αθ ββθθ αβαα αββα αθβθβ θαβα βαα ββββ αθ βαα

  checksum → Τ

  kernel signature:

  < ͶαθθΞβ∀ΨβΑΩ

  kernel signature → Τ

  handshake complete

  init storerec

  Ηq(storerec.RE1) receiving

  <

  Gaining access to the top layer of the data vault was a trivial matter. Once in, she started skimming the file structure. She found the node for the limb augment model without much effort, since in each category the products were ordered by release date, but reviewing the files would have to wait for later.

  < copy datafile LAM-Vk 3.2

  datafile LAM-Vk 3.2 copied to Ηq(storerec.RE1.1)

  Ryan: “Security drone incoming. Activating concealment bubble.”

  The umbrella-like stealth device Ryan activated added an extra layer of protection above and beyond the kamero filters, and it should render them invisible to close-range sensor sweeps so long as they didn’t make any abrupt
or dramatic movements. She kept working.

  The rest of the data she wanted to get a look at would be somewhat more difficult to locate, and also better protected. Data such as communiques or directives from the Guides to corporate executives. Encrypted discussions between Ridani and the other four Industry Advisors. Contacts with unsavory third-parties: slicers and divergers, brokers, black market traffickers….

  There. The executive communications node.

  § sysdir.Nodeββ § Ηq {∀ ΗΓn (∀ ΗΓn = ‘LAM**’)}

  Φ → passcode required:

  < → δ {Σ (θn αn βn)} = ΗΓn

  → ∀ ΗΓn (ΗΓn |*>)

  < βθθθα θαβα αββα θαθ αα θθθαθ

  Τ → passcode accepted

  § sysdir.Nodeββ § Ηq {∀ ΗΓn (∀ ΗΓn = ‘LAM**’)}

  Φ → access restricted to servNode.DRα

  Nika: “Fuck.”

  Joaquim: “Trouble?”

  Nika: “Top-tier private communications are remote locked to a module in Ridani’s office.”

  Joaquim: “Oh well, we tried.”

  She backed out of the system, leaving behind a burnishing routine to erase any traces of her presence. “We won’t get a better chance. We’re going up there. You two can stake out an escape route while I slip into the penthouse office and access the module. We’re done here in the vault.”

  Joaquim hesitated for half a second before acquiescing. “Ryan, get ready for an authorized-personnel-only security checkpoint on the top floor. You’ll only have one chance to bluff or bypass it.”

  Ryan: “Not a problem. I came prepared.”

  Nika smiled to herself. Her people were damn good.

  Security protocols had thus far been fairly lightweight, presumably as a concession to practicality with over a thousand people working in the building, and thus easily fooled. Penthouse access, on the other hand, was locked down as tight as any government compound.

  Ryan hunched over the control panel at the checkpoint they’d encountered just outside the lift, muttering and cursing silently on the comm channel, while Joaquim paced on high alert along their perimeter.

  Nika exuded outward calm as she waited to be allowed entry. What are you hiding in there, Mr. Ridani? Private vices, or professional malfeasances? If it was the former, she really hoped he wasn’t engaging in them at present. Crashing an orgy or a saturation binge was not part of the plan.

  A security patrol drone floated around the corner at the end of the hallway.

  Ryan already had the concealment bubble up around them, but it offered no protection against physical encounters, and there was nowhere other than the lift for them to retreat to when the drone reached them. The lift that had been called to another floor a moment earlier.

  Joaquim: “Ryan, ten seconds before that drone gets here.”

  Ryan: “Noted.”

  Joaquim: “If I have to shoot it, our presence here will no longer go unnoticed.”

  Ryan: “Noted.”

  Nika dropped the chill act and readied her weapon alongside Joaquim as the drone drew inexorably closer.

  When it was four meters away, Ryan pushed back from the panel. The sensor above the blocking force field shifted to green and the field dissipated.

  Ryan: “We’re through. Let’s go.”

  They turned and strode through the entry like they belonged. Two seconds later the drone passed the checkpoint and continued on its way.

  The top level wasn’t entirely occupied by Mr. Ridani’s suite. Four other executive offices, two conference rooms, and a private lounge shared the pinnacle space. The suite did, however take up the east half of the level.

  The Floor would fit in that space three times over…but he could claim as much space as suited his ego; all she needed was his data vault access module. It should be in the alcove marked ‘data analysis’ on the schematic, through his office door and to the right.

  Ryan went to work on the office door while Joaquim cleared the hall in both directions then returned.

  Joaquim: “We’ll station outside the door here to buy you some time if security moves in. If there’s trouble, don’t wait for us, Nika. You deploy your wingsuit and you bail. We’ll get ourselves out through the big windows down whichever end of the hallway the incoming security isn’t.”

  Ryan stepped back as the door slid open. “Nika, you’re up.”

  19

  * * *

  The sounds of polite frivolity drifted out from the Expo ballroom to waft through the entrance hall. Dashiel stopped before approaching the doors to check the creases of his suit and shift his expression to the appropriate setting.

  Milling about in a crowded room stuffed with society’s elite wasn’t especially high on his list of favorite ways to spend an evening. What he wanted to do was have a drink, then another one, preferably alone. The fact that as an Advisor it was unofficially expected of him to attend the gala was not enough to get him here. But the added fact that the event was sponsored by a friend was, so after a moment’s pause he strode through the doors into the ballroom.

  Artistic works spanning a wide range of styles and themes were arranged throughout the room in such a manner as to draw attention to each one individually. Sculptures, flat paintings, holographic representations and more exotic pieces hung above rotating glass pedestals.

  In the empty spaces between them, the Dominion’s wealthiest citizens glided to and fro in a pattern that lost its apparent randomness en masse. The pauses at each art feature lasted on average twenty seconds before the casual search for the next diversion began. The arrival of acquaintances or luminaries periodically halted the procession like a beat change in a musical performance.

  He waited for a gap in the pattern then stepped in to join the flow.

  The company he could take or leave, but he had to admit, the artwork was by and large of superb quality. While he lacked any significant personal routines dedicated to creativity, and he’d never made an attempt to integrate any, he did appreciate creativity.

  Still, he fought to keep his mind in the here and now—on art, socializing and displaying proper manners—as it fought him to drift off to the myriad of business challenges he now juggled and how much he wanted a drink. He needed to—

  “You have good taste. This one is my personal favorite.”

  Maris wore a glittering magenta dress that made her irises shimmer like pearls, while her dark curls were teased out to dramatically frame a face which, though sculpted as if from fine onyx marble, was unfailingly kind. She smiled at him. “You actually came.”

  “Of course I came. It’s your event.”

  “Yet I had my doubts. I realize galas aren’t your favored entertainment, so thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His lips rose into a smirk, and she elbowed him in the side. They stepped closer to the art display he’d been inspecting, out of the flow of traffic, and he gestured around the room. “Truthfully, all the pieces are striking. I’m not surprised, since you chose them yourself, but I am impressed.”

  “All the pieces?”

  “Perhaps ninety-two percent of the pieces. The fluffy rainbow-hued explosion over near the corner there isn’t to my personal taste. The carbon and aluminum sculpture near the doors, however, is sublime.”

  “Is it now? You are an industrialist to your very kernel, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged mildly. “Best that I don’t try to be anything more, I think.”

  “You give yourself too little credit. You should try painting sometime—but don’t give up the company straight off.” She grasped his hand. “Come with me. Let’s get a drink.”

  Yes, let’s. “I don’t want to monopolize the star of the evening.”

  “Oh, please do.”

  He acquiesced to her urgings and followed the trail she carved through the attendees. It was as if the oceans parted for her, and in seconds they had reached the bar on the other side of the ballroom. She acquired them two glasses of sake and nudge
d him toward an empty space near the wall.

  “Thank you. Even I need a respite occasionally. The inflated egos can at times become too suffocating to wade through, and I must seek out some fresh air.”

  He tried to moderate the volume of sake he inhaled on his first sip, then considered the crowd dubiously. “Now this I can believe.”

  “Any news on your theft?”

  “Little news and none of it good. The units are scattered across the Axis Worlds already, spread there by over a dozen small distributors, none of whom appear to be the actual criminal party. I’m just concentrating on strengthening my security measures and staunching the balance sheet bleeding.”

  “You’ll be all right. You always are.”

  “And if some greater heights than ‘all right’ are desired?”

  “Then ‘all right’ will suffice until you can do better.”

  Ouch. That one hit uncomfortably close to home…but he chuckled for her benefit. “Maris, I can always count on you for a gentle kick in the head to straighten out my perspective.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. That, and to force my peers to appreciate a bit of fine art for five seconds once a year. One activity is more pleasant than the other.”

  He touched her shoulder with a smile. “Off you go. Be dazzling.”

  She rolled her eyes and sauntered back into the madness.

  She downplayed it to make him feel at ease, but she genuinely was a star, and also completely at home in this environment. He watched her expertly work the crowd until she was consumed by it, then finished his drink and set the glass aside.

  He needed to mill around and speak to enough people to ensure no one would be gossiping as to whether he’d attended. With a quiet sigh he too dove back into the madness.

  When an automated alert arrived twenty minutes later requesting his review of proposed refinements to the augment components supply chain, he gratefully made his excuses and ducked out the nearest door.

  The Expo was located only a few blocks from his office, and he opted to walk the intervening streets instead of taking a maglev. The brisk night air helped to clear away the mental dullness even a few brief minutes of high-society socializing—and sake—had induced.