Search Word - Oppression

by ~Phifty

*click* "In the headline news today France and Germany promised President Oliver Presser that they would resume trade and lift sanctions against the US that have been standing since the war on Iraq. Russia is still requesting that the US return ownership of Iraq's oil to the people. Neither Iraq's new president nor President Presser commented. *click* The "Camera-on-the-Corner" initiative is going national. The Committee for International Freedom spoke out against the bill for the reason that it was an invasion of privacy. The CIF was accused of attacks against Safety Centers in Florida and Washington as response to the bill. *click* NeTree has relapsed his new mp7, the underground MuTello music network had the music in mp8 format three weeks. National Security Agency Solders have retrieved the latest data from orbit, the launch of the Z-30 Space Plane, Grissom went off without a hitch. *click* 50/50 wins, Alternate side docking is in effect. Remember to bring out the anti-corrosive blankets, sky cleaning is scheduled today at ten AM and five PM, please remember to get inside. *click*

     The newscaster switched off as the computer was switched on. The small whoosh of liquid nitrogen going through cooling tubes inside the case was the only sound emanating from the silver gray monolith. In the dark room a wall sized monitor lit up, speakers hidden in the wall sounded "Good Morning Dave," and then the theme from 2001:A Space Odyssey began to play. A keyboard clattered and typed in a login "Phifty" and then a password. On the wall sized screen a window popped-up. The same username appeared in a colorful decorated screen.

     "Phifty" wiped his brow, eyes glued to the screen as he entered a virtual world. A colorfully colored character armed with sward and shield walked across the screen, slaying monsters. It went on for a few minutes before Phifty deactivated the screen. In front of him, now spanning the entire length of the screen was lines of words, code, colored green over a black background. Phifty typed a few words, "NYPD" among them. Soon lines of code were scrolling at an incredible rate. The green words blended together and then, stopped. A graphical display appeared. In the center was the graphic for the NYPD, around it was various circles and labels. Phifty donned a pair of bulky goggles and then pulled on a pair of black gloves, lines of silver running down each side ending in small squares of transmitting materials. In the goggles data clouds misted over his vision. With his gloved hands he began to push his way through the NYPD’s server’s defenses. Lines of code scrolled across the bottom of his vision displaying the commands that the movement of his fingers were creating. He pushed at the red meshed threads that represented the Department’s defenses. Suddenly the red firewall he was hacking exploded in color. "Shit!" Phifty franticly began gesturing, more lines of code scrolling across the bottom of his vision, unintelligible to the untrained eye. Then the colors calmed and mixed, the threads that created the wall unraveled before him. Phifty was about to step through when an apparition stepped out of a sizzling portal in front of him. The man's face was covered in blackness, except for his two eyes which glowed a brilliant blue. His darkened face flowed into the leather trench coat, which flapped around him. The only thing not black was the necklace of silver beads he had wrapped around one hand. Phifty, who looked like a walking mass of fire, the flames flowing into the mold of a person, smiled and said "Nice avatar."

     "I know you've been working on this hack for a while." replied the shadowed man.

     Phifty and his digital counterpart both raised an eyebrow, "You do?"

     "Yes and I think it should wait."

     Phifty smiled inwardly and purposefully repeated himself, "you do?"\t

     The trench coated figure glanced over his shoulder down into the deep of the system. His eyes glowed even brighter, "Yes I do, I think you should pull, now." He glanced over his shoulder again. "When you're back on in about three hours I'll meet you in Ess Cee Main Tele-controller." The trench coated man turned his glowing blue eyes penetrating Phifty to the soul. "Pull, NOW!" The man disappeared back through the sizzling portal.

     Phifty was taken aback by the man's vehemence. He sorted through the different pathing protocols. Something caught his eye. He looked over the line of code for three seconds before realizing that it was tracing him. He left the environment and physically pulled the plug, severing his connection with the 'net. Looking at his status reports on the wall sized screen he realized that the foreign code had been only eight steps away from getting a location lock. Phifty double-checked the code, definitely NYPD's style. It would take only a little over two hours to clean his system of the damn thing, otherwise he would be traced when he reconnected. Meanwhile he had some planning to do. The man in the trench coat had known far too much. Phifty needed to know how and why, if the man was government, Phifty was in trouble and if it was one of Kamper's boys he was going to look pretty stupid, not to mention it would mean that somehow the Strikers, Kamper's net gang, had gotten a line into his computer. Definitely trouble either way. It looked like three hours from now he would be visiting South Carolina's main Tele-controller.

     Two hours and thirty minutes later Phifty had logged in. In seconds he was on South Carolina's virtual land.

     "Welcome to South Carolina Telecom!" The slim figure of a woman greeted him as he walked into the doors of the virtual building. At the top and bottom of his vision he saw the lines of code that created the elaborate halls and people of the imaginary Telecom building. This time he was using an avatar of a blue suited man with a flaming head, complete with black sunglasses. The female 'bot welcoming him was going through a prescripted schpiel. She, or rather it, wasn't real. A keyboard complete with every kind of symbol, not to mention the regular complement of letters and numbers, appeared. He began typing the correct codes and the "Tele-Spammer" began to flicker. Then a gapping hole appeared in the wall behind the sputtering 'spammer. Visible only to him, the hole was rimmed with the leftovers of the first defense of the Telecom. It was sizzling with hidden and not so hidden codes. He stepped into the belly of the beast. The red-rimmed hole closed behind him with a flash of light. As soon as he was in a chime sounded in his ear. Floating in the bottom right corner of his vision was an envelope. He pointed at it with his hand and made a "come-hither" motion. The mail enlarged into the center of his vision.

     "Meet at firewall 3, look for a breach. I'll be there."

     Phifty pointed at the letter and made a crumbling motion. The paper representing the e-mail burned in front of him. Phifty continued to move forward, deftly pushing away the thin, but razor sharp, threads of security. He hit one the wrong way and pain shot up his arm. Floating around him was information regularly exchanged in any normal business. Off in the distance he could see links to other computers and networks. Hanging around him the network was threaded like a forest done over in tones of black and green. He found himself at a wall. He was at the door to the second level firewall. On the faux glass of the door a window popped up asking for the password and sign-in. Phifty cracked his knuckles. "Been here, done that." he entered a sign-in and password that he had stolen the first time he had entered the system.

     "Welcome to SCTC." the computer sounded as the first door swung open.

     Phifty stepped inside and felt the whoosh of air simulated by the system as the door closed behind him.

     "Please prepare yourself for virus scan."

     Phifty pointed at a sheep in the corner of his vision. A copy of his latest avatar appeared. At the same time a crackling globe of green energy surrounded him. A red laser played down each side of the clone of his proxy.

     As the computer thought over its results Phifty caused his clone to dissipate, dissolving into thin air. A female voice intoned, "Virus Scan Complete. You are clean of any viruses."

     "Of course." Phifty said with a smirk. The second door opened before him.

     "Please insert National Identity Card." The female voice demanded.

     "What?!" Phifty frowned, that hadn’t been here before. Phifty replied, "Reader please." A NID Card reader appeared before him. Phifty extracted a small card attached to a large square object, from his belt. He inserted the card into the reader and the object began to wurr.

     In fifteen minutes the female voice announced, "You may pass."

     "Damn right." He walked through the green and black forest. Around him there were clicks and wurrs representing all the computers doing their work. The threads of electronic data surrounded him and engulfed him. Phifty sighed; conditions within the virtual world were always perfect. It was like being returned to the womb. He found himself facing the third firewall, this one taking the form of a moat. He began to examine it and walk around it. Soon he discovered a place on the moat where someone had filled it in, but not with dirt, with silvery blue metal layers. He walked over the metal planks and as soon as he arrived on the other side there was a flash of light and the man in the trench coat appeared.

     "Hello Phifty" The man's blue eyes burned into the back of Phifty's skull.

     "And you are...?" Phifty tried to project calm confidence but in truth he was anything but. Who the hell was this man and how did he know who Phifty was. Phifty glanced over his shoulder nervously.

     "In-Trench-Ed" Ed smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not here to turn you over to 'Them'" His blue glowing eyes seemed to grow bigger, "I'm here to ask for your help."

     "My help?"

     "Yes I'm in need of a good hacker, as a partner."

     "What exactly are you hacking?"

    "NSAS Intranet."

     "The NSAS's internal network isn't attached to the web! How the hell are you planning on getting in?" Phifty looked at Ed, If he was serious then the man, (or women for that matter,) must have some serious connections.

     "That’s my problem." Despite the fact that Phifty could not see Ed's face Phifty was sure that he could hear a smile in Ed's voice. "Are you in? If you are you’re going to need to meet me in real life. I can't take you on unless I know what you can do." Ed put up a hand to stop any protestations, "In real life." His head went to one side, attentive, as if listening. "Care to complete this hack? Within lies the metaphysical truth."

     Phifty frowned, though it didn't show on his avatar. He recognized this "Ed's" schpiel. He could only be one of those new hackers, who believed that the path to truth and mystical completion would be found through hacking. They believed, logically, that since all life and data was made of smaller components then truth and wholeness would be found when enough data was collected, and when enough workstations were connected that god, or something like him would be found. They were called the "Zeitgeists" Phifty found their beliefs questionable, it was fun, why ascribe a higher purpose? But if this Ed was any good Phifty might just team with him. After all, hacking NSAS's mainframe was the 'ultimate hack'. "After you." Phifty motioned Ed forward.

     "You must hack your own path. As shall I hack mine. There are many ways to truth and to the core. Each person has their own path and none can travel any path but their own. " Ed's blue sparkles of eyes became even brighter. "Something that applies in real life as well."  

     Phifty shrugged, "If you say so." He had been through this system once before, it was considered a training ground for neophyte hackers. He could find his way easily. "Meet you in the center." Then he dove into the virtual world of networks, computers and data. The trench coated man stepped through the nearest virtual wall.

     Phifty wadded through a few more firewalls and a good dozen more password prompts. Thankfully there was no longer any requests for his NID. Finally he faced the last barrier, the outside wall of the main server. He remembered the words of his old mentor, "Half the battle is finding the door." he whispered to himself. He walked up to the wall feeling the smooth stone the virtual world chouse to simulate for the monolith that was the Main Server. The server was hidden behind so many internal IP addresses, not to mention its own security protocols. Phifty backed up and grabbed a data string. He climbed up and found a technician's computer. "Bingo" Phifty reached in the computer and extracted its likeness, what it used to represent itself on the network. The proxy technically represented the tech's computer's Intranet Protocol number, or IP address.  But by wearing the computer's proxy he was taking on its IP address. By taking on the IP address of the computer he became the computer, this way he could trick the server into thinking he was coming from the inside. Phifty, wearing the stolen guise of an SC Telecom computer technician, walked up to the smooth wall of the Main Server. He leaned into the obsidian wall and was absorbed in.

     Inside he found himself in a hallway lined with doors. Each door had a number on it, representing an IP address. Only one would lead to the center. Then a small red light began to blink on the side of his vision. The ICE, an artificially Intrusion Counter-measure Electronics, had discovered him. Phifty began to type furiously rerouting his enemy’s attentions and burst through the door that he hopped would lead to the center. He found himself in a second corridor, identical except for the numbers printed on the doors. A red line that represented a ‘trace route’ program displayed the way he was to go, he had entered the right door. It would only be a few seconds to the center from here.

     Phifty ran through the last door into the center. Standing in the middle of the room, right in front of the server core, sat Ed, folded into a meditative position. "The ICE is onto us, I'm keeping it off but I don't know how long I'll be able to lead it down the wrong path." Phifty adjusted the program that the ICE was chasing after.

     Ed nodded, "Indeed, pull and meet me in the N.Y. Security Center. 1300 tomorrow, be there." Ed reached up, his hand going into the core. "You will know me when you see me, however to insure both mine and your identities be sure to bring this." A sheet of paper with the IP addresses of some of SC Telcom's most important clients was in Ed's hand. He tore it in half and handed one half to Phifty. "Remember, be there." Then Ed disappeared.

     Phifty looked around and stowed the peace of paper. The Security Center was an Ideal meeting place, built to withstand chemical and nuclear attack, no one could bring in a weapon and the place was always guarded by the local police force, inside and out. Then he turned around hearing something behind him.

     "Cease and desist." An ice colored dog yapped at Phifty.

    "Screw you." Phifty said calmly, he left the virtual world and reached down to the back of his computer and pulled the plug.

* * *

     Phifty walked through Lexington Avenue, but it seemed more like the valley of death. To either side the poor and misbegotten wailed their pleas and prayed for the smallest crumbs. To one side a man in a thin, long, coat cried "Doom!" The doomsayer screamed his warning to the world, "Look at the fires! Flames, smoke and flames everywhere." He screamed prophecy filled with profanity. "The world will go up in flames, we will all be destroyed." The doomsayer looked Phifty in the eye. "All too soon judgment day will come, and you will be found lacking, for you have walked among the dead and dieing, the poor of the people and you have turned a blind eye."

     Phifty rolled his eyes, "When judgment day comes you'll be burned at the stake with the rest of the heretics." Still he appreciated the man's vehemence and flipped him a quarter, all the small change in his pocket.

     The doomsayer spit on Phifty's quarter, "All the money in the world will not save you from the fires."

     Phifty walked forwarded through the grimy streets. The tall metal buildings with their blackout shutters loomed over him, casting deep shadows across the road. He could hear the sounds of rats scattering through the gutters. This was the shortest way to the Security Center but he whished that he could have gone some other way. But of coarse the ring of poverty and death that surrounded the center was unavoidable. It seemed as if the disadvantaged thought that by being near the largest monument to government authority they would be able to convince them to give aid. In fact the only thing they had done was ghettoized themselves allowing the government, not to mention the rest of the world, to ignore them with greater efficiency. Somewhere off in the distance a poor man cried for aid, he was silenced suddenly, no doubt by a Security Solder’s club. Here there were no docking stations, if you lived in this section you had to walk. The sections with the poor living in them used to have power stations for citizens to dock their vehicles but the dregs of the city, not excluding the criminals, had learned how to tap them for their own needs and schemes. "There!" Phifty exclaimed with relief. Only a block away was the shining silver block that was the Security Center. The Security Center was built on top and into the remains of New York’s Grand Central Station. The once beautiful, gothic building was now in ruins. The NYPD manned machine gun turrets on its roof and guarded it's doors. No doubt a few of the NSAS's Spook Solders, or Security Solders, manned the command center deep in the base of the building. Phifty walked up to the center doors and allowed himself to be examined by the policemen. He then walked through an x-ray scanner, a metal detector and a series of various other security devices. Finally he passed through a radiation detector and entered the building. Though the station had been redesigned as a high tech fortress for the masses it had declined into a bazaar of sorts. Highly secured and regulated it was the perfect place for people to put up open markets and not have to fear their goods getting stolen.

     Phifty began to walk aimlessly through the many shops; he realized that the man, Ed, had not given him instructions on where to meet. He looked around attempting to find Ed. As he walked, his eye was drawn to an imposing structure, sticking out like a sore thumb among the market stalls. The building was so black that light seemed to be drawn into it. The building, complete with miniature spires and gothic designs, seemed more like a hole in reality rather then a construction. Etched into the top of the building in bright white letters that seemed to burn themselves into one's retinas, was the words, "Monks of Psi" and underneath that, "Chapel of the Mind." Phifty looked at the Chapel and realized that if Ed was anything like his proxy on the Internet made him out to be, this would be the perfect place for him to wait.

     Phifty entered the "chapel." Inside monks in flowing brown leather and cloth robes shuffled around, their footsteps muted on the floor, somewhere someone was humming. Phifty marveled at the fact that none of the sounds and yelling from the outside permeated the building. Monks were bent in meditation around the chapel. Then a man who seemed not out of place among the monks walked up to Phifty.

     "Do you have anything to present to this humble monk?" said the man.

     Phifty looked closely at the man and realized that he was not wearing the same robes as the rest of the monks. Instead of the brown and black robs this man was wearing a long black trench coat that hung down to right above his feet, it was open and underneath was a black and thin bulletproof vest. The man's face was thin with well-defined features that were cast in shadow, but most noticeable was his eyes. They were glowing blue, an after effect of nano-enhanced vision that allowed one to do such things as, see in the dark and through walls. It was the glowing blue eyes that cinched it, this man was no monk, he was Ed. Phifty took out a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Ed. "Ed?" Phifty queried.

     "Phifty." replied Ed, nodding in acknowledgement. "Let's walk." Ed motioned Phifty forward and out of the chapel.

     "Who the hell are the Monks of Psi?" Phifty asked.

     "They are a small, very small, group of monks who believe that if they tap into the unused 90% of their brain they could gain amazing powers and become, perhaps, godlike."

     "Have any of them succeeded?"

     "No, they use technology to do parlor tricks saying that it was done by the power of their minds, the only time they have managed to attract any major attention was when one of their members lifted a Nie-eT reporter three feet in the air." Ed shrugged dismissing the entire conversation with one small movement. "But that’s not the point of this meeting. If you remember correctly, I was wondering if you'd join me for the hack of your life." Ed smirked, as if knowing that he had just bagged himself a hacker. After all what hacker could refuse the chance to break into NSAS's internal network.

     "You're serious about this?" Phifty asked.

     "Of course."

     Phifty knew, as he followed Ed deeper into the bazaar, that he could not refuse. Having the chance to hack the NSAS Intranet was the equivalent of a burglar being given the chance to break open Fort Knox, or a smuggler getting the chance to run 3000 pounds of illegals. "If you are going to do this then I'm in. It doesn’t matter particularly to me but I'm curious, exactly why are we doing this?"

     "I work for an organization, we have no absolute name. Some call us ALF, American Liberation Front, some SOL, Sons of Liberty." He shrugged, "Our purposes is most similar to that old group, the Sons, we wish to secure the liberties that are the natural right of every born human, especially citizens of the USA, who have lost their rights to fear." Ed looked disgusted, "We the citizens of the good ol' USA, last bastion of freedom, are so drowned in our own fear, of war, of terrorism, of 'them', that we can't see the fact that the things that we fought, and still purport to fight for, are lost to us. The government plays upon that fear like a skilled violinist." Ed’s anger bubbled beneath his calm exterior when he clamped his mouth shut. In a few seconds his face returned to his normal color. "But the walls, especially here, have ears. After all," he said bitterly, "our own government needs no reason or probable cause to investigate us, or," he spat, "oppress us."

     As they continued walking a man was led past them in chains, a broken and shattered guitar hanging from his back, the man had a battered face and broken teeth. "Look," Ed said flatly, his voice as devoid of emotion as that of the NSA Solders dragging the singer, "a man arrested, the lyrics he sings are 'aiding the enemy'. Now," Ed turned his intent glowing blue eyes on Phifty, "do you want it to end? Are you willing to participate in the ending to what your life has been and the beginning of what it should be?"

     Phifty shivered at the man's ferocity; did he really want to get involved with a fanatic? Then he looked at the man, beaten and broken, his method to exercise the right of free speech destroyed. "How could I not?" Phifty looked sadly at the departing man. "If I don't act, my throat will be the next to hang."

     "Good man." Ed said patting Phifty on the back. His personality had changed completely. What was the real Ed? Then Ed cocked his head listening. He leaned over towards Phifty to whisper in his ear. "We are being followed." His eyes gleamed with the thrill of the hunt and then dimmed as a frown crossed his face. "We have three plainclothes men, armed to the teeth, approaching our position."

     "We?" whispered Phifty, panicked. "Aren't they just after you?"

     "Not any more." Ed replied with a smile that didn't affect those blue eyes. "You've been spotted with me which means that you have become an 'enemy to the state'."

     "We're surrounded! What the hell are you going to do?" Phifty was working himself into a state of panic.

     Ed on the other hand was dead calm. "No fear, one doesn’t hang with the monks without learning a trick or two, or gaining a gadget." Ed reached to his belt and a neighboring stand was knocked over by two men in NSAS uniforms.

     "Stop!" one of the men motioned with his gun at Ed. "Move your hand away from your belt."

     "Of course." Replied Ed. He reached for the sky, his hands met above his head and his finger tapped the button of his cuff. A wave of concessive force emanated from Ed's chest and plowed into the two solders. Then his hand went to his waist, with one hand he grabbed Phifty and with the other he tapped his belt. They flew to the ceiling bullets tracing their path.

     "How the hell are we going to get out?!" Phifty shouted over the rush of air. "You just killed those two shoulders, didn't you?"

     "Those were SS men, the tools of oppression, they deserve nothing but death. Unfortunately all that did was knock them out" Ed spoke calmly despite the bullets whizzing by their ears. "Don't worry about leaving, I got it covered"

     They whizzed forward towards the exit, skimming the ceiling. "Well this is the last of the energy." Ed said resignedly. For a few seconds a charge of energy passed through their skin. Ed, still holding Phifty flew threw the door and through a hail of bullets.

     They flew out towards the residential section, wind whooshing past and dropped to the street. Phifty touched where he thought the bullets had hit him. Instead all there was were bruises, he touched one and it hurt, but that was all. He turned to Ed who had drawn a device out from his belt and had plugged it into the power station on the corner. Ed smiled at Phifty, "They work for cars AND for criminals."

     "What was that?" Phifty asked.

     "As I said, the monks spend more time on gadgets then their mental powers. Someone who knows which palms to grease and who to talk to can get their hands on them." Ed shrugged, a gesture he seemed to use frequently, "Levitation and becoming bullet proof are their favorite tricks." Ed smiled and pointed to the power station. "And all rechargeable at your local power source. The convenience!" Ed turned on his business face. "Your coming to my base if you’re teaming with me."

     "Fine, I need to pick up some equipment however." Phifty replied

     "Sounds good." Ed motioned for Phifty to follow him. "Now lets see." Ed murmured to himself as he walked down the street. "Ahhh, I like this one." Ed pointed at a car. A small metal sliver popped out of his sleeve. He inserted it into the car's door.

     "Umm, your not going to steal that car are you?" Phifty stared at the metal sliver doubtfully.

     "Breaking into a car, breaking into a computer, is there any difference?"

     "One's in real life."

     "Are you sure?" Ed joked. "But in all seriousness, think about it. If you get caught breaking into a computer you get 20 to life, depending on the computer. If you get caught breaking into a car you get maybe five years. Which is worse? Which is more real?" The car's door popped open. "Well if your planning on getting home were going to have to drive, ready?"

     Phifty shrugged, unconsciously imitating Ed's gesture. "Sure, I guess. Let's go."

     Ed popped open the doors and waved Phifty into one. Ed then stuck a metal slat into the ignition. The car purred into life around them. "I love these Jags, leather interior, smooth running and what a sound system." Then Ed hit a series of buttons on the dashboard and translucent metal sheets slid up over the car. "I love this bullet proof shit. I think I'll keep this one." Then the music began to blare from hidden speakers all around the interior of the car.

     Ed shifted the Jag up to full speed and nodded in time with the music. They whizzed through the streets. "Hey want to see somethin' cool?" A few feet ahead a car blinked it's brights down a notch. Ed floored the accelerator and drove straight at the other car.

     Phifty's eyes became as wide as saucers. "What are you doing?"

     Ed laughed insanely and then took his hands off the wheel. "I love the look on your face, someone should frame it." Seconds away from hitting the other car the steering wheel turned of its own accord and they smoothly veered away from the other car. "Man, Cass is the way to go, unfortunately when the legislator gets their hands on it, we’ll have maybe a decade before we don't drive anymore and the car just follows a preprogrammed path."

     "Cass?"

     "Crash Avoidance System." Ed explained. "We had better park a block or so away." Then the car swerved into a parking space and the power cord snaked out of the side of the car and plugged itself in. "Jags" Ed just shook his head.

     Phifty was relived that the car had stopped moving and got out as quickly as possible. Ed got out of the other side his coat just barely scraping the road. He stuck both hands into his coat and Phifty heard two audible clicks. "Ed, are you armed?"

     "Wouldn’t have it any other way." Ed stared at Phifty, "you are one naive person. Follow me." Ed walked forward his trench coat swooshing behind him.

     "My house." Phifty practically collapsed in relief. He went to walk towards the house but was stopped when Ed put a hand in his way.

     "Do you normally have cop cars sitting in front of your house?" Ed pointed to the two heavily armed and armored Police cars sitting in front of Phifty's house.

* * *

     Phifty's mouth dropped open. "Why is the NYPD camping out in front of my house?"

     "Apparently they traced you faster then I thought they would be able to."

     "If the NSAS is tracking me, I can say good bye to my regular life. I'll have to start over again, new identity, new everything. I'm going to have to burn all the bridges to my old life."

     "Indeed." Ed frowned, lost in thought. "Do you need machines or programs?"

     "Both"

     "Well can you accesses your computer from outside?" When he saw Phifty's nod he continued. "We are going to get the software before we go after the hardware."

     Phifty looked around the street in an exaggerated motion. "From here?" he asked sarcastically.

     "Don't doubt me." Ed replied quickly. Ed shook his sleeve and a small black square fell out. He tapped in a sequence, each place he tapped lit up a bright rectangle. There was only enough room for three and when they lit up it seemed as if the lights cast a glow over the entire piece of equipment. Ed sat on the sidewalk and a keyboard and screen appeared, projected out from the chip. "There is no Virtual World support. You’re going to have to do this in code."

     "Can't get into my computer any other way. " Phifty sat down at the projected keyboard. In fifteen minutes he was in. It took another fifteen to get the software he wanted. "Done"

     "Okay. Now if we can't get this hardware you could get it somewhere else, right?"

     "Sure, I guess. But it would be expensive." Phifty looked at the house. "How are we getting in without being spotted by the cops?"

     Ed smiled dangerously, displaying perfectly white teeth, "We don't." He pulled out twin guns, boxy, black, small and deadly. He clenched them in one hand and pulled out a small, sleek silver weapon, which had a round red emitter in the front. "This is a stun gun. Aim at the head." He threw the stun gun to Phifty who barely managed not to drop it.

     "You're not serious." Phifty looked at the stun gun, attempting to get a grip on it. "Damn, I can't handle a gun well enough not to shoot myself, much less shoot someone in the head."

     "If you need to you'll be able to." Ed stepped forward a gun in each hand and blue electricity ran the length of his body. "Just stick behind me." Ed put both hands behind his back and walked forward towards the two cop cars. He stuck to the shadows and snuck up as far as he could. Then two men popped out of each car. Their heads and guns stuck out from behind the metal plated doors of the cars.

     "Step out of the shadows and reveal your hands!" One of the cops yelled.

      Ed stepped out of the shadows and addressed the policemen. "Why officers, I'd be glad to." Then in a blur the two guns came out from behind his back, his arms crisscrossed, bracing themselves against each other and his chest. Ed fired the guns and ducked down. Phifty heard two other guns fire spasmodically and then stop. Ed laughed hollowly, "Phifty, you can come out, their dead."

     Phifty walked out from around the corner. In front of him the two cars were pocked with bullet holes. The men were fallen over the cars. Phifty looked away from the fallen bodies. "Come on, let’s get what I need and get out."

     They walked into Phifty's house; Ed guarded the door as Phifty gathered what he needed. He piled all the equipment into a box with drifters on the bottom. The drifters started up creating a low hum and lifting the container a half-foot off the floor. Ed rushed from the front door towards Phifty, "Is there a rear door?"

     "Yes, why?"

     "We've got incoming, lead the way out the back." Ed drew his two guns once again. They rushed out the back door and out through the yard. As they rushed towards the car the sound of something rushing through air reached their ears. With a load boom a missile impacted with the silver Jag, turning its sculpted lines and silver body into debris. "Pigs! I just stole that car." Ed shouted over the explosion.

     Then Phifty whipped around in time to see a NSAS man with a rocket launcher turn and launch a missile into his house. The house exploded into flames as the missile plowed into it. "It looks," Ed intoned under his breath, "like the SS is burning your bridges for you." Phifty looked at the burning remnants of his house, frozen in shock and horror.

     A door popped open in the house next door to Phifty's. A young lady came out from the door her mouth ready to frame a question. There was a popping sound and a red, bloody dot appeared on her head. Her eyes rolled up. Phifty had never been a religious person but if he had known any prayers he would have started chanting them. A dark armored man with the red stripes of a commander pointed to the different groups of solders, when he spoke it was concise with no wasted words. "Spread out, no witnesses." The NSA Solders went into houses and dragged people out. They hustled the men and women out and into the cars.

     "Into prisons for forced labor or maybe simply killed. I doubt they will ever see daylight again." Ed rushed Phifty forward through the streets. Phifty stumbled on the street. Anger began to radiate from him, overriding the stench of fear.

     "Those..." Phifty's voice trailed off. He clenched the stun gun and began to turn back towards the block that he had once lived on.

     Ed's hand came down like a steel clamp on Phifty's shoulder. "Not now, hold onto that hatred and anger for another time. It’ll have its uses, I promise." Ed moved Phifty to face away, down the street away from the house. "Come."

     They walked quickly. Ed stole another car, this one a lot less flashy. "We’re on our way to a safe house. We can safely stay there and plan."

     "Does your plan involve killing any SS?"

     Ed nodded his smile turned wolfish. "Always."

     "Good," Phifty responded "How many have they killed?"

    "How many what?"

     "How many innocents have they killed? How many people have you watched taken to their execution." Phifty slammed the side of the car.

     "Too many. I found some of the mass graves, where they put the executed." Ed stared off into the sky. Then he shook himself and swerved into and through a wall, which flickered. "It's time to rest."

* * *

Ed guided Phifty through the drab gray building but Phifty wasn’t paying attention. He was wary. He found himself in a room with bunk beds, a dozen filled.

Ed guided Phifty to a bed. "If you need me I'll be in the office next door."

Phifty laid down on the bunk. All he could see was the SS gathering the people on his block, people he had known and called friends for years, sending them to their sure deaths, because of him. He choked and cast his mind back and tried to remember the sense of curiosity and adventure he had begun with, the fun he had had hacking into SC Telecom, a week ago, or a day? "Was it only a week? One night - one single night?" he spoke out load. It felt so much longer ago, a lifetime. Phifty tossed and turned, images of the days events flashing through his head. As he tried to fall asleep, the walls of his self-imposed prison seemed to close in on him. He slammed his fist against the wall.

"Hey is there a problem?" someone whispered

"Yes there’s a problem! I want to be home, in \imy\i bed, in my house. But I can’t, because it was blown up!" Phifty slammed his fist against the wall again

"Well some of us want to sleep so stop slamming the wall."

Phifty nodded to himself and turned over, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, somehow, darkness overtook him and he fell asleep.

* * *
Ed and Phifty were walking the drab metal halls of the safe house, going over what equipment they would need. Ed stopped and turned to face Phifty his face sober, "I hope this works."

"Yeah, me too." Phifty replied

"You don’t understand, when I started in this-" Ed’s voice trailed off as if trying to think of exactly what to say. Phifty turned around and paid attention, this would be the first time he discovered anything about Ed. "I didn’t mean for this, all of it to happen. I started in this because I believed that I could make a difference. Believe it or not, at one point I believed that the world’s success or failure depended solely on my action, or lack of." Ed shook his head, eyes downcast, "Now it’s become about vengeance. I realized that I haven’t been able to change anything, but now, now we have a chance to really make a difference, a chance to do something. My only wish is that we succeed."

Phifty saw that this was the real Ed, something he hadn’t seen before. Phifty nodded in acceptance, "We will make a difference and have our vengeance in the process."

Ed looked old as he turned to Phifty, "Promise me, that no matter what happens, a difference will be made."

Phifty saw the calmness in Ed’s eyes, the calmness of one who believed themselves to be going to their death but were ready for it. "I promise."

"Good " Ed suddenly changed, as if he had pulled on a different personality. "Wait here a sec." Ed knocked on a door and a man came out. He was clothed in a black coat that seemed to be part of him, other then that Phifty could make out none of his features. Ed handed the man something and then walked away.

"Who was that?"

"A friend, a student and a burglar. You can call him Cloak" Ed responded, "He’s going to help. Come, were going to walk to the airport. We have a plane but it’s unsafe for you and me to drive there." He pressed a button and the wall opened up to show dawn on New York.

The sun was just rising and the city was quiet. The dirt-clogged streets were empty and silent. The new sun cast light, small, shadows on the street. It seemed like Ed and Phifty were the only people in the universe. It was a short walk to the Airport from here Phifty realized, but he could not stop from mulling over yesterdays events, could he have saved them? Would he be able to save anyone today? They walked in silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Just as the clatter of the city began and the streetlights turned off they reached the airport.

It was a short flight in a small plane filled with Ed’s people. The only pause was when they had to wait before getting out of the plane while the zeppelin shaped air-cleaners regenerated ozone and sucked up pollution. While they were waiting many of the men, including Ed, bent down to pray, for luck, for redemption and for permission. Phifty sat in his seat thinking about what was coming but he didn’t pray. Phifty found it difficult to believe in god or any sort of Supreme Being or truth when life on earth seemed so close to hell. When the all clear sounded the men began to pile out of the plane carrying boxes filled with equipment.

The group settled down in a park, hidden by trees they began to unload. Phifty grabbed a pair of binoculars from one of the boxes. Through it he could see the squat, brick, building that represented the above ground section of the National Security Agency Solders (NSAS) Headquarters. He knew that there were a good many floors below the building. Fortunately all they needed to do was get to the third floor down from ground level, which is where the first computers running the NSAS Intranet were located. Around the building were rows of slightly wilted trees and asphalt. The area was empty, out of fear and deference to the organization within. Cloak who had been with Ed before stepped out of the pack, fully equipped.

"It’s your job to take out the security systems." Ed ordered pointing to the man. "When their down, you give us the signal and we will be able to go in without detection." The burglar nodded. He took his coat around him and it’s colors changed as he faded into the background.

"How’d he do that?" Phifty asked in surprise.

"Stolen military technology, made to blend in with the background, rendering a person invisible. It’s also radar resistant and suppresses heat making the person wearing it invisible to both eye and machine." Ed then motioned for silence and the waiting had begun.

The fifteen minutes, in which they had waited for the signal, stretched, seeming as if the wait was in fact fifteen days. Then a small beep sounded from some piece of equipment on Ed’s belt. In utter silence Ed waived the group forward. There was no sound, masks muffled the breathing of the group and the birds and other wildlife had long ago learned to steer clear of government buildings, whose outsides were often electrified. They were running on a half-inch cushion of air created by drifters in the soles of their shoes. As they approached the building the door slid open reveling an empty hallway, then the air shimmered slightly and the colors of the wall began to separate, retreating into blackness and the burglar materialized. A slight smile turned up his mouth as he gestured them in, as if he was a butler. Ed led the group into the buildings and held up four fingers. Four men joined Phifty and Ed, four more lined up behind Cloak. According to plan they split up, they were to meet at the stairway to the third floor. Ed’s group silently moved through the building, at this level it looked like any regular office building, but below was a fortress. This point in the plan each member of the team was holding a silver stun gun, they were noiseless and no one hit with one of the stun guns would be able to shout out. Many of the office workers did not even here them going through, the few who did went down silently, hit by the laser of the stun guns. The group made their way to the staircase; Ed pushed the door open, aiming his stun gun down. When they saw that no one was there they went down to the first sub-level.

This floor was no happy series of cubicles. The hallways were silver metal and harsh white lights ensured that there were no shadows. Everyone holstered their stun guns and brought out regular weapons. It was the first time Phifty had held a regular gun. It was a cold hard block in his hands, a powerful tool. Phifty licked his dry lips nervously and looked around himself alertly. As they went down the hall they met no resistance. Everyone here was working in his or her office; this section was still apparently open to the public. The group of six made their way to the next staircase without meeting any resistance. Ed followed the same procedure with this staircase as he had the other. No one was on the staircase but down from the other floor they heard marching boots. The third sub-floor was guarded. The work done here was definitely meant to be sub rosa. They stepped through and Ed, his face grim, silently shot a man marching down the corridor. Phifty kept his eyes adverted and followed behind.

A red light flashed on Ed’s wrist, the signal went off in a pattern that meant Cloak’s group had met resistance and needed help. Ed opened a nearby door; each room should have a computer in it from which they could retrieve Cloaks position. Inside was a group of solders on bunks. Ed saw the computer and neatly shot each sleeping man.

Phifty looked at the dead SS men lying on their beds; they won’t ever awaken from that rest. The thought saddened him, though he couldn’t figure out why. Ed was a fanatic all right; this would be the first and last time Phifty associated with him. Phifty ran to the computer, holstering his unused gun. With no small amount of relief, he entered into the computers virtual world. The NSAS used different equipment, no bulky goggles and no gloves, simply three small adhesive circles on one’s forehead. Despite that, entering the world inside the computer was a relief. It took only a small amount of work to find their location; it was the first thing the computer displayed when he logged in. With reluctance he pulled out and told Ed the corridor and section number.

Ed led the group, straight into a gun fight. Ed ran across the hallway to Cloak, Phifty behind him. "What happened?"

Cloak shrugged, "No idea, they popped out of the doors. We’re three minutes away from the next staircase. The jammer is going, however if they‘re working on a signaling schedule, their leaders will know soon enough."

Along with Ed and Phifty’s group, Cloak was able to get past the solders to the staircase. Ed walked to the door and pushed it open, then, in slow motion, he fell backwards, two holes in his chest. The men rushed to the staircase and began firing down it. Phifty ran to Ed kneeling at his side.

Ed gasped in breath, "Listen to me." Ed pulled Phifty closer so that he could hear him over the gunfight. "You’ve been following a path that has not been your own." Ed winced in pain, but his glowing blue eyes still bit into Phifty. "It’s time to find your own path." Ed stuck both his guns into his belt and unbuckled it, handing it to Phifty. Then Ed’s glowing blue eyes faded out.

Behind Phifty the sounds of gunshots died out. But he didn’t hear. Despite the fact that he had known Ed for little more then two days the man had taken him in and now he was dead, just like that.

Cloak looked down, with intense eyes, at Phifty who was kneeling at Ed’s body, Ed’s gun belt hanging loosely from his hand. "Don't lose your belief in yourself," he told Phifty.

"What the hell can I do?" Phifty replied, "I could, should, have been able to save him. If I had looked I might have been able to find orders in the computer, something that would have prevented this"

"Maybe, but probably not." Cloak took Phifty’s hand and pulled him up. "Let’s finish this."

From there on they moved forward like a relentless whirlwind. They cut down everyone who stood in their path towards the first computer. Phifty was in the back of the line; he didn’t draw Ed’s guns once. Once, a solder came up behind him, Phifty pulled the stun gun and stunned the man. "My own path?" he mumbled to himself, indecisively. They found their way to the computer, the men stood in a circle around him as he plugged in. This time entering the virtual world gave Phifty no comfort. He used his anger, pushing the threads of security out of the way, ignoring the pain when he mishandled one. He had to find something incriminating. He had to succeed. He sorted through information at a fast rate; date books, orders and e-mails flew past his eyes. He was using the module that he had brought from his house with the hacking equipment as well as safe guards; that was what alerted him. A red light flashed at the corner of his vision. He looked to the rear, "ICE" he whispered. A huge ice colored ‘mech walked towards him, red scanners searching. The walking tank was moving slowly so he still had time. He launched himself deeper into the system to avoid it, information still whizzing by. Then he stopped the flow as a header caught his eye. The floor vibrated beneath him, the ICE was catching up. He copied the information. It would destroy the NSAS. He turned preparing to unplug and saw a puddle on the floor.

Flowing up from the puddle, silvery white and looking as if it had just been submerged in water was the ‘mech that was the ICE’s representation in the virtual world. Phifty stared into the heating barrels of the ‘mech and gave the command to pull. Nothing happened. Somehow it was preventing him from leaving the virtual world. Phifty ran, the physical danger it could cause by simply sending a shock through the equipment was deadly. He tapped frantic commands, made despite gestures, attempting to counteract the ICE’s program. He felt cold ice on his back. He ran his last defense and the program manifested as a bazooka in his hands. He was sure that this would work. He fired at the ICE, which shattered into a million pieces. The ICE was scattered on the floor, but Phifty wasn’t sure if it would stay that way. A piece of data, fallen out from behind the ICE caught his eye, Phifty smiled for the first time since his house had been destroyed; this was data he could use now. He pulled, the virtual world disappearing, cold hard reality taking its place.

"Are you all right?" Cloak asked, "You stopped breathing for a couple seconds there, we though you might have been dead."

"I met up with some potent ICE, it caused me to flatline, but I got it!" Phifty exclaimed, patting the "hip" hard drive which stored the incriminating data.

"What do you have?" asked Cloak.

"I have here, watermarked by NSAS computers and signed by their commanders, orders to launch weapons and mount attacks at the United States from a foreign country in order to force the nation into war and create more fear, giving the SS more power."

Cloak smiled like a shark upon finding a meal. "Perfect."

"I also found another piece of data." Phifty said before Cloak could turn around.

Phifty pointed at two of the men behind him. "Destroy that door. Everyone stay outside, I’m going in by myself" Phifty pointed to a small wood door that if he hadn’t looked for it he would have missed, because it was so well blended into the wall. The two men busted it in and Phifty walked forward, pulling one of Ed’s guns. He pointed the gun at the man who stood inside, the man who wore the ranks of the NSAS High Commander. The commander spoke in a deep baritone. "Come to kill me?" he paused for effect, "Phifty?"

Phifty’s finger tightened on the trigger. He thought of all he had been through, of what he might still have to go through, his house, the people he knew and Ed. He fired, the bullet flying from his gun, into the ceiling. "No," Phifty smiled grimly at the commander’s surprise, "we have the data that shows what you tried to do. We will show the world what you have done and what you were going to do." Phifty looked the SS Commander straight in the eye, "You will face that which you sought to destroy, justice."

Ed’s friend, Cloak, stepped out from the shadows, his coat changing colors, he looked at Phifty questioningly. "They killed Ed." Said the burglar, "and you’re going to let him live?"

"Yes," Phifty remembered Ed’s words and he thought, not of revenge, but of the world he was in, the way it was and the way that it should be. "I’m going to make a difference."