"Sorry, Jenny," the ebon boy said. "Even your boss' connections don't get you in here. Goodbye."
The boy waved a hand and a jolt like a roundhouse punch jarred Neko. The screen went dark. From the other room, a crash signaled that Jenny had been affected as well. Neko ripped off the helmet and ran to the door. He knew he couldn't breach it, so he started to work on the locks. Behind him, the computer spoke with Jenny's voice.
"It's okay. Just a little bit of dump shock." "What happened?" "We got kicked out." "Another decker?"
"Yup."
"Can we go back?"
"We could, but we won't. At least not me. You can try somebody else, but I don't think they'll get anywhere against the Dodger."
Neko wasn't sure he had heard correctly. "That was Dodger?"
"In the electrons."
Neko was shocked, but not really surprised. He'd known Dodger was a decker and that Dodger was connected to Laverty. Who better to defend Laverty's secrets? The guardian decker's swift response to invasion suggested the importance of what was being protected. "He's that good?"
"The Dodger used to be good. Now he's special." Special? Indeed he might be. Special enough to be one of Laverty's "special children"? Laverty seemed to have been born in a time when elves were not yet supposed to exist. Was the same true for Dodger? Zip's testimony said so.
Elves older than magic. That went counter to the accepted theories about the awakening of magic and the beginning of the Sixth World. Clearly, the elves had secrets. It could well be that one of those secrets was immortality. Kham could be right about the crystal and what it represented.
Stealing that secret from the elves would be a coup, and using the secret would be an even greater one. The runners who achieved it would be immortal-not just among the shadows. They would live long after their deaths in the tales that inspired those who came after. Sure, it would be dangerous, but Neko knew he would not miss this run for his life. Neko wondered what his old master would think.
Agnes Tsossie, the security manager of Andalusian Light Industries, cowered before Glasgian like the human worm she was. She was right to fear his anger; she had not properly discharged her duty. For the moment, however, he would not express that anger. He would wait until he was satisfied that he knew the reasons for her failure, and had confirmed that the situation offered no threat to his plans. Until then, she remained a useful tool for his use. If she performed well in cleaning up the mess, he might even let her live. After all, it was her first failure.
Surveying the damage in the corridor, he took in the bullet holes, the explosion scar, the smoke stains, and the rusty blotches. A small battle, but a battle nonetheless. A battle that should never have taken place. "You have an explanation, I trust," he said, without deigning to look at her.
For a moment she said nothing. Gathering her courage, he assumed. She was competent in her field, and though he had never told her what had happened to her predecessor, she would know. When she did speak, her voice was marvelously well-controlled.
"As you have seen, sir, they broke in along the north perimeter, bypassing our alarms. Judging by the debris, their equipment was very sophisticated, well beyond what one would expect for a random group of shadowrunners. The conclusion must be that they were a corporate strike team. Our budget for defensive systems precludes complete security against those kinds of resources. We were unable to take any prisoners, so, unfortunately, I cannot confirm for you who the raid's sponsor was."
Glasgian waved his hand dismissively. "I don't care about the details or about your excuses. What I want to know is how they knew to strike at all."
From the corner of his eye, Glasgian watched her smooth her hair back in a nervous gesture. "I cannot answer that without knowing their objective. Without prisoners to question, that piece of data will remain unknown."
He turned and stared at her, letting his disdain show. "They came in from the north, did they not? Less than a hundred meters from the north wing of the light assembly building. They were headed toward Basement Level Four, were they not?"
Tsossie was not a pretty woman and her frown made her less so. "Possibly. They never reached it, though, so we can't be sure that it was their target. We have so many potential targets in the facility."
She knew where they were headed as surely as he did. He could see it in her eyes. "Basement Level Four."
She shook her head in brazen and open disapproval of his categorical statement. "I know you have ordered increased security in that area, sir, but your concerns are not known to outsiders. They would not know you place a high value on whatever is down there. Your desire to keep your new project secure seems to be prodding you to unwarranted conclusions."
Such cheek! He opened his mouth to put her in her lace, but she didn't give him the chance.
"We may have had a perimeter breach, but none of the raiders escaped; therefore we have lost nothing. our projects, including that in BL4, are still secure. will not deny that a threat exists, but I am prepared toj see that security remains good. I could do a better job, however, if T knew what I was guarding. I could be more confident in evaluating the threats we might be facing or in mounting more effective countermea-sures."
Indeed, she might. But she might also use the knowledge to her own advantage; if she hadn't done so already. Being a mere human, she sought her own advantage, no matter how fleeting it might be. Perhaps she had been involved in the raid herself, tipping off the unknown sponsors to Glasgian's treasure. If so, she was a fool. Sooner or later, he would find out and, if she was guilty of treachery, she would regret it for the rest of her short life. Petty, fleeting advantages. Such ephemera were attractive to norms, he supposed, because their lives were so short.
"As to more effective countermeasures, I shall handle that. I will arrange for additional magical security. You have no problem with that, I trust?"
"None, sir."
Perhaps. Perhaps not. "I will have Madame Guis-cadeaux report to you in the morning. She is a student of mine and I have implicit faith in her skill and loyalty. You will treat her as you would me."
"Yes, sir."
"And as to your level of knowledge, you have all that you need to know," he told her. "Unfortunately I do not. I must know who sent them."
"I cannot tell you that at this time. We have the lab technicians analyzing the raiders' equipment, but the preliminary reports are not encouraging. They were professionals."
"I did not expect them to carry identification cards."
"Of course not, sir. No one would. But corporate raiders are often equipped with products of their own corporation or its trading partners. Easy access, I suppose. These were carrying products of more than one megacorporate family; an attempt to appear as independent shadowrunners. We found nothing that was reliably incriminating, although a preponderance of the circuits in their equipment have manufacturing marks belonging to Miltron. I cannot place enough confidence in that report to target Miltron for reprisals."
Miltron? The name was unfamiliar, but that was not surprising. No one could remember all the companies on the globe. Tracking the megacorporations was hard enough. One couldn't always know all of their subsidiaries, trading partners, and suppliers. If she saw fit to mention the name, she would know about the company. He decided to let her enlighten him. "Miltron?"
"A small multinational trading in security magic and tech. Their equipment would be an obvious choice for penetrating our facility. Therefore the presence of such equipment is no sure indicator that Miltron itself is involved."
"Bring me a file on them."
"Yes, sir." Tsossie walked away and entered a room halfway down the corridor. Glasgian contemplated the damaged corridor. Extermination of the raiders had disturbed its serenity. In a few minutes, Tsossie returned and said, "If you will follow me, sir. I have a terminal ready for you."