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Author Topic: CLASSIFIED: /memorybank.Chimera  (Read 755 times)

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Anonymous

  • Guest
CLASSIFIED: /memorybank.Chimera
« on: April 09, 2009, 06:07:40 pm »
Quote
Download mem1.xpr
Warning: data have been removed from this file.
Recover?  N
Private access only.  Enter password.
[blink:3cabxfdv]l[/blink:3cabxfdv]


Code: [Select]
Message from CHIMERA, 0710.05:
Congratulations!  If you've made it this far, it means I've elected to give you the password to my memorybank, or, in case of my death and/or capture, the password has been sent in an automated message via secure channel.  Information pertaining to the 'psychic cure' mission is contained in the following file.  For further information in case of my death or capture, contact D_MSR@freecl.vcn.

I reiterate: view this file only in case of emergency.  This file will be deleted from your terminal when viewing is complete.

Code: [Select]
Opening mem1.xpr...
The sound of h__ own footsteps shadowed h__ as __ passed through Sator Square.  This part of the lower city was silent at night, but by no means peaceful.  A hot-copper-and-rot smell hung in the air.  __ stopped in front of No. 757.  The electric buzzer, when pressed, made a thin old-fashioned noise muffled by distance.

In the lengthening pause, C could hear the faint faraway thump of h__ heart.  The door slid open.

"You have them?"

"An hour ago."

C nodded and brushed past __ into the interior of the warehouse.  The two crates had been put away behind a messy fortress of filing cabinets, broken terminals, and radio sets.  __ waded through the debris, feet crunching on broken discs, and coughed into h__ hand as dust puffed up around h__ feet.  

"Let me--"  C grunted and bent to open one of the crates.  Inside, swathed in industrial foam, lay layers of tiny tubes.  Squatting carefully beside the crate, balanced on h__ heels, ___ slid one of the tubes out of its foam carapace and lifted it between two fingers, holding it to the light.  The silvery liquid inside prickled and swarmed, like the static on a pixel screen.  "And D is up for it.  We need to do this now.  As far as anyone knows, I'm at ____________."  C slid two more vials out of their sleeves, pocketed them, and stood.  

"I know.  So this is it?"

"I'm afraid so.  Don't."  They moved delicately around each other.  C let the tube rest flat in one hand.  "Hold still."  __ took the other's arm and clicked the tiny button on the back of the tube.  The point of a needle extruded itself.  "Ready?"  

__ had shut h__ eyes.  "It'll be like--"

The needle went in.  C depressed the plunger until all the glittering liquid had streamed away.

Six. Five.  Four.  Three.

"I hope this"  

One.  

"works."  

"Yeah."

They stared at each other.  C held __ by the shoulders and ran a quick mental scan.  Nothing.  "Unfortunately, that was the easy part."

"I know."  __ looked at h__ steadily, and said nothing.  

"Here.  This is--"  C fumbled in one pocket and came out with a square of paper, printed with an address.  "This is where you're going to go, after it's all done.  D will take care of you.  I stopped by.  He doesn't know any more about this than... but you know he'll take care of you."

"Do it.  Just do it.  Don't wait."  

C stepped back, pocketing the empty vial, and shut h__ eyes.

Erasing and altering so much stored memory was not easy.  C let h__self sink into a trance of intense concentration.  Picked off--any memory that referenced psychic talent.  They stretched far back, intertwined with the strings of identity and relationships.  It was not a delicate operation.  It was complete destruction, scorched-earth.  When __ came out of it, __ stepped back and looked hard at the former psychic.  H__ eyes had gone entirely blank.

__ blinked.  Once.  Twice.  

"I'm sorry," __ said, slowly, "What..."

C hadn't really known __.  A few months only, through L's network.  That was all.  It was enough.  ___ gave h__ one last impression: the safety of the address.  On h__ way out, __ removed the last trace of C h__self from h__ mind.


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At a terminal, blurry around the edges.  C connected electrodes to h__ temples and, wincing, slid the needle into the base of h__ spine, just below the fastening of the skull.  Upload.

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Automated logout.  
Data erasure beginning...
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 04:00:00 pm by Guest »

Anonymous

  • Guest
Re: CLASSIFIED: /memorybank.Chimera
« Reply #1 on: November 28, 2009, 01:04:59 am »
Quote
Download mem2.xpr
Warning: data have been removed from this file.
Recover?  N
Private access only.  Enter password.
[blink:3s9b8w11]l[/blink:3s9b8w11]


Code: [Select]
Message from CHIMERA, 0710.05:
Congratulations!  If you've made it this far, it means I've elected to give you the password to my memorybank, or, in case of my death and/or capture, the password has been sent in an automated message via secure channel.  Information pertaining to the 'psychic cure' mission is contained in the following file.  For further information in case of my death or capture, contact D_MSR@freecl.vcn.

I reiterate: view this file only in case of emergency.  This file will be deleted from your terminal when viewing is complete.

Code: [Select]
Opening mem2.xpr...
C caught Poet by surprise, setting a blaster to his chin and wrapping one arm around his torso.  

"Okay," __ whispered, dragging him back to the wall.  "I'll show you."

There was pressure on the tip of the blaster; Poet was smiling.  "That's what she said.  And in similar circumstances too.  By the way, love, you missed the meeting."

"You," C said, turning him around and holding him by his shirt-front, very close, "didn't tell them about... whatever you think's going on."

"What I know," Poet corrected C, with precision.  He put his hands on the blaster's barrel and grimaced.  "Really, I thought we were past this unpleasantness.  I didn't tell them because I trust you."  He snorted.  "Even Gospels can be friends.  Even if you're all fucking mad."  

C was wearing a thin cloth mask, even __ eyes invisible.  The fabric moved a little around the corners--__ was grinding __ teeth.  At length the blaster was removed and they both relaxed.  "Of course we're mad.  Fuck, Poe.  Fine.  What've you--"

"Here is what I know."  Poet braced a hand on the wall and used the other to work on the bottom edge of C's mask, rolling it slowly upwards.  Like a stocking.  "Satro Marival has no psychic abilities and has been memory-modded--your work.  Only others who could have done it are myself or L, and I think I'd remember."  Drily.  "Then again.  And Rana's cabal has been watching TRIM for transfers, so I put two and two together.  A scientist from TRIM has managed to eradicate psychic ability and somehow you've gotten your hands on it.  If only I had access to your subnet, I'm sure I'd know so much more."

C shook __ head grimly.  "It's a dead end.  Tell them--tell them the transfer isn't going to--the scientist--you're right.  Neelam Macario invented a nanovirus that, well, it's a 'psychic cure' injection.  He defected, got a few crates here, I'm hiding them and I can't tell you where--that's the whole story." __ stopped when Poet's slow rolling-up of his mask passed his lips.  "Anyway, it's not an effective cure.  It lasts a month.  Satro has a week left, if that's... I... then you can take her back.  Well, it's not the whole story.  Macario died, though I'm not sure how.  But the comm at TRIM recorded it."

Poet was listening.  He'd stopped playing with C's mask.  He let his hands drift down and pinched shut the Gospel's lips.  He was smiling.

"That's fucking hilarious."

"What?"

"Everything to hell because of something so harmless."

"I'm sorry, but if you--"

"Sh."  Poet put a finger to C's lips. "Harmless, not useless.  You want to use it to escape your Dragon, don't you.  And I want to use it to--well, to scare the shit out of the Pilots."

C swallowed.  "Your idea may be better.  There are only three uses I could think of.  One, try to get at the Dragons somehow.  But two is not for our benefit--it's--well, it'd be nice for the Citadel to get ahold of, because they could interrogate us without our fucking barriers, so maybe I should just destroy the whole thing, but I can't.  Because three, escape, yeah, okay?  Yeah.  Use it to unhook from the Dragon.  Sometimes I feel like my brain is coming apart at the seams, like I can't fucking--I can't do this anymore.  I don't have anyone--look, Sylph doesn't trust you, the Gospels don't trust you, they don't trust me, I just want out, to get the hell out, okay, I--well, I trust you."

"Trust is not the word.  You"

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"--Macario, that's charming," Poet said, while C rolled down __ mask.  "The brother's so upstanding.  Anyway, you're to come and meet a few of my people.  Rana, for instance--Zero, your helper."

C snorted. "Zero?  He's a good hacker.  But an idiot.  I prefer to keep some distance, and besides, it's pretty dumb of me to--"

"You want trust, you have to show good faith.  You're to give us twenty vials of this stuff."

"Why--"

"Because the next time we come up against a Pilot we're going to stick them with it."

"No.  I can't.  That's absolutely--your people--"

"Would you rather we shoot to kill?  This way we'll be able to tell quickly whether our victim's a Gospel.  And if so we won't kill them, you may be sure.  Of course, if they're not..."

C swallowed.  "Fine.  Done.  I'll bring them by."  __ took too quick steps backward; they echoed through the steel framework built up inside the tunnel.  

"Done.  One week.  I know you only want the excuse..."

C swung __self over the metal railing of the platform on which they stood and made a leap for the ladder up and out.  __ caught and hung there, and then __ was climbing.  Out of the tunnel.  Back to the Upper Level.  

"Pilot training good for something, agile bastard."  Poet called after __:  "L--"

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Automated logout.  
Data erasure beginning...
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 04:00:00 pm by Guest »

 

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