"I do not understand, he is clearly visible standing in front of me"
"On which spectrums? Thomas frowned.
"Human spectrum visual, also mid-infrared through to extreme-ultraviolet. He does however, have only a weak electronic signal. Just from the hat. Not Transnet connection" Mr Pinko said in a matter of fact manner. "He is also audible on frequencies 8.18 to 16,744Hz. Most of which are used for vulgarities"
"Frick me" exclaimed Jack "Did Robert programme him to be this dull?"
"He's functioning as intended. If anything it's all the other drones malfunctioning. I need to look at the hat" Thomas reached towards Jack's out of time head-wear.
"Keep your greasy mits off kid. This is the only bloody thing standing between me and seeing the rest of my life out in the holding pens" Jack grabbed onto the hat's brim with both hands.
The three of them were in a back room of the CHub. A steel table was scattered with various disassembled electronic components, lit by a harsh spotlight over their heads. Mr Pinko stood at one end of the table, motionless, emotionless also. Thomas paced about animatedly as his mind raced. Meanwhile Jack had grabbed a stool and grimly sat on it in a corner.
"So dad made the hat, and he also built Mr Pinko's new processor. He must have put a bypss in Mr Pinko for the hat's capabilities"
"So, what?" Jack failed to see the importance.
"He must have seen this coming and he must have seen a use for Mr Pinko"
"Our lives in the hands, claws, feet, whatever, of a big pink monster. Your dad always did have a twisted sense of humour"
"But it's a clue" Thomas insisted
"It's messed up is what it is" Jack rubbed his face, tired eyes stinging.
"He's sent you here and prepared Mr Pinko"
"To do what?"
"To go and rescue"
"So I gotta save your dad's arse, not for the first time I might add, and I gotta do it with a snot nosed kid and a bubblegum pink abomination?"
"It's more of a fuscia pink than bubblegum" Mr Pinko's voice rang out sharp in the small room "But aside from that, Mr Jack is correct that we are not well prepared to locate Mr Panthros"
"Then let's get prepared" Thomas was animatedly gesticulating as he explained his plan "We go over to dad's offices, look for some clues"
"This ain't an e-cast detective flick kid"
"Alright then Mr Miserable, what do we do then? Sit here? Maybe have a warm cup of milk?" Thomas glared over at the old man.
Jack's mouth dropped open. Suddenly the kid finds his spine, with a sarcastic streak as well. Just like his mum when she was passionate about something.
"Ok kid, er, Thomas" Jack said, rubbing his jawline "We'll go look around. But I got to grab a wink of sleep first. You got anywhere I can put my head down?"
Thomas smiled "Sure, this is a contact hub after all; nice relaxing beds everywhere"
WELCOME TO THE SYNAPSE SLAP - TOWER 2'S PREMIER CONTACT HUB.
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RELAX...
RELAX...
"Goddammit Thomas, won't you relax? It'll be easy. You're an old man before your time!"
"Easy for you to say Rob, you ain't gotta lead the way"
"Everything's set up. We just need an in. Sort of thing you do every day"
"I do every day down in the projects. Not up town, I don't fit in here Rob. It's all flash tech - you seen those towers they've started building? Monuments to technology. Freaks me the frick out"
"It'll be fine. In and out. Make our point"
"And keep your missus happy"
"You boys talking about me again?"
The scenario playing out in Jack's sleeping mind (and snoring body) slowly resolved from the sounds of conversation into vision of the scene. The memory took place within a cafe over in the central district--part of the Megatropolis that would subsequently be redeveloped into the third and fourth Towers. Jack, or Thomas as he was than, was sat opposite Robert next to a tall window that looked out onto the main street. It was a sunny day, people out on the street in short sleeves. Traffic was heavy; before Robert arrived Thomas had been watching with some amusement one of the new autobuses struggling to negotiate a small fender bender on the corner of main street and seventh. They got drones out there fighting a gaddam war, but can't get one driving right in the city.
Thomas' breakfast had arrived at the same time as Robert, tired looking waitress delivering a greasy looking bacon sandwich. Memories of the strong smell and salty flavour causing Jack to turn over in his sleep. Back then Robert had made a joke about Thomas's choice of food, that there wouldn't be much more bacon to go round if the UN lost control of Denmark as looked likely. Thomas had made a disparaging comment about "the stupid pigs" leading the war effort. Next they'd turned to discussing the matter at hand; Thomas' nerves and Robert's confidence.
Then, she had arrived.
Melissa, despite disheveled hair and brooding persona, was beautiful. High cheeks and big eyes, but with a small scar on her left cheek that Thomas has always figured was karma not wanting her to be quite perfect. But she was close. The smell of her unusual shampoo wafted over Thomas, who put down the sandwich as he attempted to drink the scent in.
"You boys talking about me again" Jack played her entrance over again in his scenario, smiling slightly in his slumber.
"Thomas is getting cold feet" said Robert, standing to give Melissa a kiss. Jack bristled, at both the slight from Robert, and the display of affection between man and wife.
"No I'm not. Was just saying that it's a big job, a lot that could go wrong"
Melissa pulled away from Robert's embrace and sat down to face Thomas, taking his rough hands in hers and looking at him intently "But it's also an important job, Tom, with so much that can go right once we see it through"
Back in the present, Jack's hand flexed open and closed as he relived Melissa's soft touch.
"You really think this conspiracy of yours is true, don't you?" Thomas held Melissa's gaze, something he usually struggled to do in the face of her passionate intensity.
She smiled "You've seen the evidence yourself Tom, the weapons shipments, the Centrale Company buying up land and technology. It's a power play.
"I'm from the projects, I know a power play when I see it, it's just the motivation I ain't so certain about" Thomas relented and broke her stare.
"Then explain what we've seen together in these troubled times"
"The war is drawing closer, so the council want to protect the city. Yes, ok, so a few big companies like Centrale get in on that, supplying the missile defence systems we've tracked. Centrale ain't necessarily the bad guys you paint them to be just cos of that though" Thomas sat back, desire to finish is sandwich gone.
"They say the war is getting closer. How do you verify that? You been outside the city recently?" Melissa lent forwards, eyebrow raised
Thomas mumbled something about the travel ban
"So maybe instead you did the research on line? Oh, hang on, who maneuvered themselves into the position of monopoly provider of the city's uplink? Hey? You've gone quiet Tom"
"Centrale" he answered sullenly, but then with a little more resilience "But that don't mean that they're using, or they are, a sentient AI. That's the crazy part of your theory"
Melissa glared at him then quickly looked about, before almost hissing "Not so loud. Their software is getting more sophisticated. More adept at detecting threats"
"You're crazy"
"Really? So how long it take you to get picked up for that little west sector job you did last month?"
"I got ratted out"
"No you didn't. Your face got recognised by the ultra-high definition camera on a Centrale operated weather drone 3km up in the drakking sky. Robert hacked out the arrest warrant himself" she pointed at her husband who was still stood next to the table shifting uncomfortably at the sight of yet another argument between his wife and best friend.
"So what if it was? I'll adjust, always do. Stay sharp rather than whining in a corner about some grand conspiracy" Thomas snarled. As much as he hated to admit it, she'd struck a nerve. Again.
"Where'd you find this thug, Rob?" Melissa turned to look up at her husband. Thomas wasn't the only one who'd had a nerve touched. "Any chance you can put him back under whatever rock he scurried out of?"
"Guys, please" Robert held his hands up in deference, then slid into the seat at the head of the table. "We gotta stay cool. Way I see it is this, Mel wants to look for her proof, I wanna check out Centrale's tech, Thomas wants to prove Mel wrong and show me that his fists and wits will always beat the smartest tech around. Don't you both see? Completely different goals, but at the same time, it's the same end in sight. Come on. Shall we do this or what?"
Silence hung like the smell of bacon grease and odd shampoo in the air.
"Ok" Melissa said after a while
"Whatever" Thomas replied, looking at his feet while he said it "But you can pay for breakfast"
SCENARIO INTERRUPT. YOU HAVE ELECTED TO MOVE THE MEMORY FORWARD. PLEASE STAND BY WHILE OUR CUSTOM SOFTWARE RE-CALIBRATES. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SELECTING THE SYNAPSE SLAP FOR ALL YOUR SCENARIO NEEDS.
The taxi they were in swerved out of the line of traffic and into the parking bays in front of the tall, glass fronted headquarters of the Centrale Company. Robert handed over a credit chip to the driver, nodding at him to keep the change.
"So this is your grand plan? We stride in the front door and what? Ask them nicely to let us in" Melissa still rankled from the argument in the cafe.
"Do I tell you how to piss about on some hipster picket line? No, so leave me to do my part of the job" Thomas climbed out of the cab, slamming the door shut before Melissa had chance to clamber out after him.
Out on the kerb Robert came up to stand next to his best friend "So, er, what is the plan exactly?" he asked cautiously, wary of further antagonising a man well known for his angry tendencies.
"We stride in the front door and ask them to let us in" Thomas flashed a grin, then headed off to the grand looking revolving door that dominated the ground floor of the building.
Robert scurried to catch up with him "Really? I kinda thought, well, that..."
"That your thuggish criminal friend would have some kind of cunning backstreet entrance that only the grimy underclasses know about? Or maybe he'd arrange some small private army of degenerates to overwhelm the security team here?"
"Well, er.."
"Tell me Rob, you knock out the ground floor camera's like I asked?"
"Sure, only the public sections though, rest is on a different system. Plus there's still the guards and lifts to get through and to"
"No problem, in fact, even a little girl could do that bit" Thomas stopped. Then nodded. Robert followed his friend's gaze, and frowned.
From around the corner of the building emerged a young girl, maybe 11 or 12 years old. Greasy hair hung down over her forehead, ragged clothes hung off her wiry thin body. She disappeared into the revolving doors. Thomas nodded to follow her.
He then promptly got stuck in the doors. "Godshitting dammit" he exclaimed.
On the outside Robert turned to give Melissa an uncertain look. "Told you he was incompetent" she whispered.
"Don't worry" came Thomas' cry from inside the door "I just accidentally hit the emergency brake. Just give me a sec" the door juddered back into life "I fricking hate these contraptions" he added as the door got back up to its usual speed and Robert and Melissa were able to follow him in.
The large lobby ran three stories high, all ornate lighting and chrome finishings. A reception desk ran along the east side, but Thomas' concentration was on the young girl who was heading towards the security turnstiles and lifts beyond. Robert and Melissa came to stand alongside him.
"So what now big guy?" Robert asked, faux sense of bonhomie convincing no-one.
"Take this and get ready to move" Thomas passed out stocking legs to Robert and Melissa, miming the action of pulling them over their heads
"What the? Seriously? What kind of two bit operation is this?" Melissa hissed at Robert.
Her husband shrugged "I trust him" he whispered out of the side of his mouth "Gotta go with him now" he concluded, pulling the stocking over his head as he said so. Melissa reluctantly followed suit.
The girl kept walking to the turn styles, a bored looking guard headed over to meet her "How can I hep you miss?" he said as she approached.
"Hello sir" she said politely "I'm looking for my mummy, she er....AGHHHHHHHHH! her scream echoed around the lobby. She collapsed to the floor, spasming violently. Just out of reach of the guard behind the barrier.
"Hey kid, you alright?" the guard called, then seeing the girl in distress called over to his colleague at the far end of the security turn styles "Oi, Jeff, release the barrier and call an ambulance"
"Sure thing Matt" his compatriot called back, hitting a buzzer to release the turn styles then turning to reach for the phone.
The first guard came through the barriers and into the public section of the lobby. The part with currently no camera coverage. Thomas glided like water over smooth rocks, sliding past the guard, lifting his security pass and silently mouthing a couple of words at the girl on the floor, "Cheers Josie".
Melissa and Robert ran to follow him, jumping into the lift Thomas had called with the guard's pass. Each looking slightly ridiculous with the stockings pulling on their facial features.
"So you don't think they're gonna be suspicious about the three folk riding up the elevator wearing stupid drakking masks?" Melissa grumbled
"Nope. Standard protocol. A 911 call goes out and all active monitoring personal switch to cover the emergency at hand" Thomas answered matter of factly "We only need these masks on for when they review the footage back later. But keep your trap shut when we get out onto the 42nd floor. The elevators don't have mikes, but the the monitoring stations up there do, and no doubt they'd recognise your whining voice a mile off"
Melissa would have responded, but the elevator beeped to announce its arrival on the 42nd floor. Thomas put a finger to his lips to emphasise the importance of not talking, then popped his head out of the doors. Coast clear, as expected from his earlier surveillance. If only Melissa could have seen the research I put into this job for her. Their arrival coincided with a shift change in the security detail. But that didn't alter the fact that the server room was under 24 hour guard. This is was where it got fun. Beneath the stocking leg, Thomas smiled.
Back in the projects Thomas had a reputation for getting things solved with more than a modicum of physicality. But to paint him as a mere thug was to underestimate him. He was a thinking man's thug. One of his greatest assets was a sense of his own limitations (dwarfed, admittedly, by his sense of everyone else's limitations, but that was besides the point). He was well aware that it would be impossible to flat out assault a well guarded corporate headquarters and also that any kind of technological based infiltration would be impossible; if Robert was unable to carry out such a mission -- and he had attempted it more than once -- then Thomas had zero chance.
So Thomas had set about developing an alternative plan. He'd made visits to the town planning and fire department, aware that all corporate entities had to lodge office floor plans and fire prevention schemes. He now knew, for example, that there was a fire extinguisher just around the corner he led Robert and Melissa to.
He also set about networking. Not the fancy computer sort, but the personal kind, the sort of networking Thomas often grumbled was dying out as more and more people seemed to spend their lives inside and online. Shared cigarettes in the smoking area behind the building, getting to know the staff, getting know their routines and their gripes with working for Centrale. Finding out, for example, that the post room on the 38th floor had a defective parcel scanner, and that those pen pushing idiots in accounts wouldn't stump up for a new one till the end of the financial year, budgets allowing.
While Thomas walked around the corner, picking up the fire extinguisher in a single fluid motion, four floors below a parcel addressed to Centrale, but with the name of the person it was meant for smudged, and no return to sender directions, began emitting thick white smoke. The post room was small and unoccupied at the time; both of the post people working today out on their rounds with the third off work sick currently (suspected STD was the office gossip that Jack had listened to). With no one to raise the alarm, the smoke was sucked into the air-conditioning system. Smoke that was the wrong type to set off the ionising alarms, did not change the ambient temperature to set off the heat-detection alarms, while the optical alarms were only in public areas and not the air conditioning as per the plans at the fire department that Thomas had studied.
Back on the 42nd floor Thomas paused in a small break-out area. Essentially a meeting room in a corridor, just given a fancy name, the few chairs and tables doted around were largely unoccupied at this time of day; most on this floor were huddled away doing their end of month reconciliations. Thomas took a seat, bending his head down to hide the fact he was sporting a stocking leg, and motioning for Melissa and Robert to follow his lead. Anyone paying close attention would have spotted something amiss, but who pays close attention to random people in the office huddled over a small table?
Melissa tapped Thomas impatiently on the back and shrugged her shoulders at him, the implied what the hell are we doing here?! did not need her to break silence for Thomas to understand. He responded by holding a hand up flat, then pointing at his feet. Melissa followed his finger, then the stocking on her head bunched slightly as she frowned underneath it. It was just an air grate from the central air conditioning system. Nothing out of the ordinary. Other than the wisps of white smoke starting to drift out of it.
On seeing the smoke, Thomas was back on his feet, moving quickly down a small corridor with Melissa and Robert in pursuit. Smoke was starting to eddy around floor level from the evenly spaced grates. Half way down the corridor was a door with a crudely drawn skull and crossbones on it, and a **BEWARE PROGRAMMER** sign surrounded by bio-hazzard warnings. A little below that was a simple name plate that said [4214: Lydia Meadows]. Thomas put a hand on the door handle, savoring its touch for a second, then threw his shoulder into the door, which gave way with a crack. He ushered his companions in, then closed the door behind them, but leaving a small gap open to peer through. Lydia was currently on holiday in California (with a married man, if you were the sort of person to pay attention to the gossip, which Thomas most certainly was). The three infiltrators stood in her untidy office, Thomas with one eye pressed to the gap in the door.
As they waited a distant alarm began to ring out, then another and another. A FIRE HAS BEEN REPORTED, PLEASE STAND BY WHILE WE INVESTIGATE, the loud volume of the automated voice causing Robert to jump. A FIRE HAS BEEN REPORTED PLEASE..... the voice looped. After a while it changed, instructing that ALL PERSONNEL PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING TO YOUR DESIGNATED MEETING ZONE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ALL PERSONNEL PLEASE......
Two figures ran past the office they were hiding in, Thomas grunted, then turned into the room. He didn't realise that Lydia would be quite so messy, but the large and heavy box he'd posted to her (arriving the day after she left on vacation) didn't take too long to find, the post-person unlocking the office with a master key-card, and leaving it on her chair, essentially the only free space left. Thomas picked it up and went back to the door, realising he couldn't open the door and carry the box, so nodding at Robert to lead the way back out into the corridor.
They trotted down to the end of the corridor which opened up into a small space containing a, now unoccupied, guard station, a few chairs, a sad looking pot plant. And a massive steel door. Thomas hurried over to the door, which was slowly closing while emitting a repeated beeping noise. Perfect he thought as the one gamble of his plan paid off. He'd calculated that the two guards wouldn't hang around when the evacuation was ordered, despite the protocol being for them to stay around until the door to the server room had completed its locking mechanism. Had they still been here, well, that was why he was also still hefting a fire extinguisher along, perched on top of the box. Plan b tends to be a blunt object when I'm involved he mused.
They hurried inside as the door slowly swung into place behind them, clunking shut and hissing as the air tight seal engaged. Thomas set down the box between two banks of servers, wincing at a lurking pain in his back. Old before my time. Robert, meanwhile, hurried to a small metal desk that was tucked between two tall mainframes. From and inside pocket he pulled out a little case, opening it then hooking a wire from inside into a port located at the back of the desk. Then he slipped on a bulky contraption over his head, something like a cross between a ski-mask and a blindfold. A keyboard emerged from the desk and he started typing quickly. After a while he spoke "Ok, we're in, the monitoring systems are down in here"
"You drakking idiot!" Melissa threw a punch at Thomas, and it was only a life's street brawls that enabled him to instinctively duck out of the way quick enough.
"Whatthehell?" he said, dashing to put a server between he and her. "You wanted in to the server cos your boyfriend couldn't do whatever the hell you want from outside, and I get you in. I thought you'd be thanking me right now"
"You've marched us into a deathtrap. You know how these things work when a fire evacuation is ordered?" She paced round the server, Thomas mirroring her movements to keep it between them. "They suck out all the oxygen so the fire can't get hold in here. DRAKK" she ripped off her mask in frustration "And even if we do somehow survive, we're drakking locked in. Practically gift wrapped for the drakking feds"
Thomas pulled off his own mask, sweaty hair plastered across his forehead. He frowned, biting a lip in contemplation. "If only the stupid old street tough had your brains eh? Maybe he'd have thought of that. Damn" his laps of the server had brought him back to the large box. He shifted aside the extinguisher and tore open the lid. Then stood and smiled at Melissa, who looked from him to the contents of the box.
Fire department uniforms and oxygen equipment.
"We walked straight in the front door, and we'll walk straight back out the front door. A plan almost as simple as me" Thomas' grin widened.
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