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“Oh, this is Lovely, Fran. Perfect dopamine agent here, colloidal, and the slow gamma-aminobutyric acid modulators in the complex keep you from crashing afterward. Slight effect in the nigro-striatal ascending fibers, keep it to the D4 large neurons, but the major hit is in the ascending mesocortical, in the DA3 subcomplex, the vesicular…” He stopped in mid-flow as he saw she wasn’t taking in a single word.

“Sorry, Fran. It’s not jargon, really. What this stuff will do is the question. Some of it makes you smart, some of it makes you fast, some of it makes you alert, some of it keeps fatigue at bay, and if you keep the doses sensible, you won't have to pay for it later. I want to use the association cortex agents myself during our decking runs. It’ll definitely boost my awareness of threat and the ability to respond to it. For those poor souls like you who can’t whack this stuff straight into your brain,” he said, fingering the cannula implant on his neck, the options are more limited. Mind you, Edward did give me a peripheral that is absolutely guaranteed to enhance your enjoyment of, er, certain acts. He’s been supplying me with that for years. Not that I ever, not with, I mean…”

“Not when you were bedding me?” She was half-amused and half-livid. Who wanted to think that desire and its consummation were the playthings of some academic pharmacologist?

“No.” He smiled, ever so slightly apologetic. “Anyway, he gave it to me because I think he fancied you some.”

She scowled; two lechers in one day. That was annoying.

“Forget it, We’ve got work to do. I need ten minutes.”

He applied the yellow vial to the cannula, triple-clicked the security seals, and felt the steely rush begin to spread over his scalp. The slight edge of paranoia that followed was normal, and soon he could feel the sounds and colors and vividness of it all. She was already setting up the decks.

“All right, Viviane.” He grinned at her lack of understanding. “In my reality, I’m Taliesin. and you’re going to be Viviane. That way we both look like harmless folks in simple robes. We should be able to get away with that, no matter what form the system sculpture takes.”

“Away to London!” he called delightedly, and they were off.

27

They woke in the separate bedrooms of their suite at much the same time, then glumly shared coffee and what claimed to be a continental breakfast from room service. In the end it had all been rather anticlimactic.

“Well, at least we know the details of the system sculpture system now” Geraint summed up. “I must admit that it surprised me, Very pastoral, nothing organic. Nothing that we encountered, that is. We got away fine as the wizard-bard and the priestess.” He was trying to be optimistic, constructive.

“Yeah, but there was nothing in there. Nothing in the personnel files on Smith, Jones, Kuranita, Jack the Ripper, and none of us either. I’d say we drew a total blank, Geraint. Useless.”

“Try to look on the bright side,” he insisted. “You didn’t get attacked by some homicidal maniac, and we got by their decker so sweet. He didn’t even realize we were outsiders. So much for the defenses of the most dangerous cybercorp in the UK. Not so much as an active alert triggered.”

“But where did it get us? We learned nothing.” Francesca poked at the limp croissants. After all their bright hopes and expectations for the run, it had been as bad as this breakfast.

“Well, apart from what I’ve mentioned, we did learn something. And we should have seen it before! Look, remember the cards I showed you yesterday? Five of Coins. We’re not getting the foundations right. But the outcome was the Six of Swords. Remember, we have to face some new element of the problem and deal with it.”

Okay, I buy that. It does fit. But how did we get the foundations wrong? Our plan worked. No one picked us up.

“But we didn’t get what we wanted. We didn’t find any sign that the database systems had any answers. That’s how the foundations of the enterprise were flawed. We were in the wrong system.”

She misunderstood him. “You mean we should have checked Fuchi instead because Transys is after them? But-”

“No, I don’t mean that at all. It was the wrong Transys system. Were going to have to hit the central system. That’s where the information will be. In the Edinburgh system, where their HQ is. If we’re onto something big, that’s the obvious place. We’ll have to deck into the Edinburgh system.”

Francesca was becoming frustrated. “But we don’t even know the number of the SAN!”

“You telling me you can’t hack that one? Fran, you’re the best decker! Know.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose I can find it.” Honest flattery usually worked for Geraint. “You sure about this?”

“Got a better idea?”

She looked deflated. The buzz, the thrill of yesterday was gone from her. Then she inhaled deeply, dumped the cold croissants into the trash, poured a third cup of coffee, and thumped her fist on the mahogany table.

“Okay, let’s do it,” she said. “If what I’ve heard about the TN system is true, it’s going to be damn tricky. We’ve just got to hope that its sculpture is configured like the one we saw last night.”

“Why would it be any different?” Geraint asked. “They’re bound to be the same. It would be too expensive any other way.” They smiled at each other, clinking their coffee cups together.

“Well. Master Bard, shall we sally forth and astound the varlets with our wizardry once more?” She was playful, her spirits improving.

“Viviane, my dear, I believe the hour of enchantments is finally upon us.” He spoke with mock grandeur. “And I believe we should disguise our sorcerous purpose by downloading a few tidbits elsewhere in the system, perchance from their research flies, should we happen by a helpless little SPU that reveals them to us. That way we can also make a few sovereigns into the bargain. Cover our tracks too. Verily, milady, let us sally forth anon.”

They got up and went toward the gleaming cyberdecks across the room.

“Ten minutes.” Geraint said, then reached for the cannula once more. Mustn't forget the shot.”

* * *

They stood outside the system access point, ready for the verdant scene that would greet them upon entry. Geraint-Taliesin stood with an almost fierce expression, a grimoire at his belt, a magical stave in his hand, and a harp at his back. Meanwhile Viviane of Avalon readied herself to pass through the mystic barrier and head for the SPU beyond. It worried Geraint only slightly that the Viviane icon was clad in a decollete dress today. At the very least it might distract any Black Knights who came their way.

Viviane’s mystic utterances dispelled the barrier program and then they were striding through into the green pastures, sending animals scurrying hither and thither across the sward. Data routing, obviously. Just what would be expected.

Geraint saw the quicksand or the tar baby trap immediately. but he didn’t need to alert Francesca-Viviane to it. She skirted the edges of the pitfall and he followed, treading in her steps exactly.

Heading through the peaceful woodland, the couple came to another clearing; the tint of the subprocessors. Hiding behind the trees was a small gnome who skipped out and asked them the simplest riddle imaginable. What pathetic access defense, Francesca thought. Kindly, she gave the gnome the answer, and the inquisitive pixies lurking behind the older oaks stayed put on their toad-stools as the gnome nodded his acceptance. A trace and report program, she guessed. It looked feeble, but that was part of the skill of it. It disarmed a decker’s defenses to he faced with something that looked so pathetic. She was all too aware that the system had imposed its reality upon her perceptions, making it harder for her to give the right responses swiftly enough. Well, then, she just might have to leave some of the answering to Geraint-Taliesin. As they strolled across the clearing, she muttered to alert him. He nodded his head sagely, and they strode out hand in hand.