This was Francesca’s specialty, so she took the reins.
We’ll use evasion mode as long as possible and your smartframe to deal with any IC. If the system alerts, our reaction depends on where we are at the time. If we’re into the storage systems, you switch to bod mode and fight like hell while I go to sensor mode and get as much as I can. I’ll use a dumbframe to handle it if I can program it fast enough. That way we’ll have a few extra seconds if we have to fight when we get close to what we’re looking for. Stay together at all times and put the emphasis on system analysis while we’re getting into the damn thing. I think my sleaze program is powerful enough to get us through the system’s access and barrier defenses. We’ll just have to use scrambling IC for the decrypt programs. Right?”
Francesca was in her element now, scribbling down notes at a furious pace, already high on the anticipation of the run. She had a look of utter determination on her face, a look that made Geraint ruefully reflect that he didn’t see how his careful, cautious Hermit would be able to hold off her Princess of Swords if they had to change plans halfway through.
“Sounds good. The question now is, what do we want to do about our Matrix personas’?”
It was a crucial question. They knew the Transys Neuronet system would have a sculptured Matrix, an individually designed set of icons and representations that would try to force its own reality on to them. Unfamiliarity with it would make their mental operations slower, unable to react in a split-second if necessary. That obviously gave their enemies within the system-both the IC and the corporate deckers-just the slightest edge in combat. What to do about it was the question.
“I don’t think I want to use your filter, Geraint. I know it’ll help, but I won’t be able to get used to it fast enough. Trying to operate with an unfamiliar filter against a sculptured system would only double my handicap.”
Geraint had a reality filter, which was what deckers laughingly called the powerful representational program. It allowed him to see any Matrix constructs through his own selected set of images, which consisted of knights, warriors, warhorses, the Wild Hunt, and the whole panoply of Welsh and Celtic heritage. The filter balanced some of the disadvantage of being in an unfamiliar system, giving him an edge that the sculptured system might not be able to overcome, It would be an interesting struggle between his filter system and the power of Transys Neuronet’s system sculpture. Francesca, however, wouldn’t have the same advantage.
“Well, we’ve got to have representations of each other within our own systems when we travel together, and we need ones that aren’t out of sync with the Transys sculpture. That way. it’s all smooth, and neither of us has a major disadvantage.” He sighed. “Trouble is, even if that works I’ll be seeing them differently from the way you do. You’ll see black IC in their terms, probably, and I’ll see it as a hostile knight or chimera or some such, if I’m lucky.” Then something dawned on him.
“But hold on, Fran! You’ve been in their system. haven’t you? What did it look like?”
She shook her head in reply. “I hardly saw anything apart from that thing. If I suffered any disorientation from being in a sculptured system. it was part of the general trauma. Hell, Geraint, make damn sure you protect me with your attacks and whatever you’ve got in that frame of yours. Are you sure we don’t want my frame on attacking options?” It was something they’d been arguing about in the car most of the journey. Francesca was understandably paranoid about meeting the murderous persona that had nearly killed her once before. Geraint disagreed with her.
“We've got enough punch. Anyway, the flatlining jackout options you’ve been working on really should handle that. The only way we could get total insurance now would be to wait for Serrin to get back or have a friend of mine here sit around to pull the jacks if we get toasted. Besides. I really don’t want to risk anyone else knowing what we’re up to, and it’s too long to wait for Serrin. Or Rani. First sight of anything that looks like that thing of yours and we’re out of there. Promise.”
They went over every last detail again and again, reviewing the possibilities for IC constructs opposing them, how to deal with hostile deckers. contingency arrangements, and finally they ran some simulations. Though ii wasn’t the real thing. it made them both sweat and showed that they could work together well enough. By the fourth run they’d gotten good. They jacked out together, full of smiles.
“Geraint. you really creamed that IC construct.”
“The Black Knight? What did he have up his sleeve?”
“I'll check. It’s a quasi-random IC construct with, let’s see. Red-4 node, killer, blaster, jammer. Oh. well, maybe if he’d had an acid program instead of a jammer. you wouldn’t have fared so well.”
“My dear lady, I didn't even need the frame.” Full tilt with a simple attack program had gone right through the Black Knight’s shield and chain mail, skewering him. All Geraint needed was to ride over him to keep the IC suppressed.
They had one final, tricky decision to make. Should they head straight into the System to carry out their mission, or should they go in for an initial snoop first? The advantage of the former was that it preserved for them the clement of surprise. The advantage of the latter strategy was that they’d know better what they were getting into, and would be able to configure their own personas accordingly.
Francesca was arguing hard for the second option.
“Look, we both go in using evasion mode. Heavy on masking and deception. We just see what the sculpture is like. We don’t go near IC, we invade almost nothing past the SAN. We analyze and download and look it at our leisure. Our chances of triggering even a passive alert are minimal if we use the right operational modes.” This made good sense and Geraint had to agree with her.
“We’ve done all we can,” Francesca said. Tonight at eleven, then. “Absolutely no alcohol at all until afterward. Not even a sherry with your old college friends.
She looked almost stern. “Come on, we’ve got an hour before I have to wheel you over to the infirmary. I'm hungry. We may not be able to drink, but we can sure get something decent to eat.”
“Exactly what’s in those vials?” She was suspicious, looking askance at Geraint as he gleefully pored over the small case of multicolored liquids and oily emulsions. He grinned conspiratorially. He was feeling great.
At the Radcliffe. he’d gotten deep laser treatment and growth stimulators, differentiation regulators, modulated hemostatic complexes and a dozen other agents Francesca couldn’t even remember the acronyms for, let alone their full names. All that mattered was that within an hour Geraint was walking on a leg that would be as good as new by the next morning. save for a need to avoid straining it for a few days. He had gladly downloaded charitable contributions to the hospital’s welfare and research funds-all tax-deductible, of course.
Francesca had politely declined the lecherous attentions of Geraint’s medical friend, whose hands had shown as much interest in her as in his patient. Somehow, in the guise of showing her what he was doing, the octopus seemed to get an arm around her waist or fingers fluttering along her arms. She had hidden her distaste and allowed her accumulated irritation to explode in anger at a smug and healthy-looking Geraint in the parking garage. He suffered the onslaught quietly and then they’d moved on to the research labs. It was the fruits of that visit he was reviewing with such glee now. Another charitable donation had been in order, of course, but that was the price one had to pay for cutting-edge experimental materials that got mysteriously used up in the cause of science. That, and another expensive dinner at Oxford’s best restaurant for Professor Michaels the following evening.