Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Magic, Fiction, Science Fiction,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A cyber-deck wielding student learns the hard way that reality is not as nice as cyber-reality.
"The ages of man have been: Stone, Bronze, Iron, Dark, Reason, Agrarian, Industrial, and Information. Using technology developed in the late twentieth century, man birthed a new age: The Age of New Gods.
In 1998, the first full virtual realities were created. In 2002, due to the discovery of "warm" superconductors and Japanese advances in micronization, a new style of computer became available. This new type of computer was roughly the same size as an old desk top computer, but was capable of processing the vast amounts of data involved in VR. In 2010, scientists at Berkeley completed the first complete synaptic maps. Two years later a general set for the human race were finished. Using these synaptic maps and newcomps, mankind invented the cyberdeck.
In 2013, a group of engineers, doctors, and computer programmers succeeded in building a cybernetic limb superior to a biological one. Cybernetic optics and organs soon followed.
In 2016, taking advantage of synaptic maps and the processing power of newcomps, Dr. Dale Laethon, of MIT, brought the first man-made artificial intelligence on-line. In January, 2017, a worldwide cybernet was powered up. Three months later, due to a lack of funding, Dr. Laethon's AI, Murphy, was shut off.
Several corporations purchased parts of Laethon's research in the hopes that they could replicate his work. Many intended to use AIs to protect their computer systems from 'Runners, twenty-first century hackers. Others hoped to, by using viruses as the base for their AI programs, create "information gathering," intelligences. Finally, the Daedalus Corporation was interested in seeing if it would be possible to transfer the "mind" of a person to the Net by using their personal synaptic maps as the basis for the AI.
The Cyberweapon Registration, Licensing, and Locator Act of 2017, was designed to protect the public from the growing number of weapons being built into cybernetic limbs. It mandated that each cyberweapon be licensed, registered, and tied into the net, wherein its use could be recorded.
In 2018, Daedalus succeeded. They managed to transfer the consciousness of one of their volunteers into the Net. Unfortunately, the process destroyed key synapses in the volunteer's brain. He was trapped in the Net. It was considered an act of mercy when they decompiled him.
A short time later, Michael, the second true, Artificial Intelligence was brought on-line. Michael was a security AI in IBM's Net construct. Meanwhile, a very dark and sinister plot was taking place. Ahkmed Ali Hassad, dictator of Iran had, through bribery and theft, obtained the data from the Daedalus project and Exxon's viral AI program. In 2025, he combined those projects and unleashed the first Daemon into the Net. He called it Shiatan. For a human guinea pig he used one of the most skilled 'Runners in the world. Unfortunately, there were some unexpected side-effects. The virus corrupted the 'Runners mind and the realization that he was trapped in the Net drove him insane. He truly believed he was Shiatan.
As Shiatan began to realize the extent of his powers, he set upon a plan to take over the world. He began absorbing the most skilled Netrunners from around the world and converting them in Daemons like himself. From there he began a campaign of terrorist strikes against the largest banks and corporations. The corps, in an effort to strike back began employing massive numbers of deckers to throw against the Daemons. Unfortunately, they were simple absorbed. Finally, the corps unleashed a secret program they'd been working on. The Kherubim, highly advanced free willed Ais. Incorporated into their basic programming were advanced combat programs.
The Kherubim chased the Daemons into wilderspace, vast regions of the cyberspace that were uninhabited. Then the Kherubim, at the orders of the UN, consented to be hardwired into their sponsor corporation's systems, effectively confining them to that location of cyberspace, but also giving them control of the system.
"Now what," Cairn Drakesfaery, murmured. College was a bummer, no bummer wasn't a strong enough word. He still needed to write six pages before his paper would be done and he only had twenty minutes to download it to his prof. "Only one thing to do in situations like this... cheat."
He turned from his newcomp and pressed his thumb into the sensor stud on the largest drawer of his desk and waited. The sensor ran a full scan of his DNA and thumbprint before unlocking the desk. The drawer opened to reveal a smooth metal facing with a keyhole in the center. "It's OK, I'm alone," he said, initiating the command that would scan the room for "unwanted guests," namely Datacops trying to acquire the evidence that would put Cairn away for a long, long time. As soon as the scan was complete, the panel slid back revealing Cairn's most prized possession, his cyberdeck. As he lovingly gazed at it, he marveled as he did always at its size.
In the fifteen years since cyberdecks had been invented, they had been condensed quite a bit. Back in 2012, a cyberdeck was the size of a desktop computer. Now the smallest, and most expensive were the size of the keyboard from one of the old desktops.
Cairn locked his apartment door and activated the security field that would prevent passers by from seeing into his home. Then he lovingly took the cyberdeck and cradled it in his arms. With a movement that seemed almost casual, but that he had done thousands of times in the past few years Cairn brushed the hair from his temple and plugged in.
The universe shattered, "snow" filled his vision as the pieces fell to the ground. After a short moment, the "snow" cleared and he dropped into cyberspace. He conjured a mirror and looked at his persona construct. His icon was perfect, a knight, with mirrored armor and a flowing black cape. In his left hand, he held a sword crackling with electricity, and in his right he bore a shield with the standard of the Raven. In this world, Cairn Drakesfaery, was known as Warhawk.
He left the boring white walls of the Local Tele-communications Grid and dropped into Seattle. The horizonless sky of the Matrix stretched before him. This being a business trip, he wouldn't go sight seeing, at least, not until he had finished. He spotted the UW net construct and glided over to it.
The huge husky's head towered over him and glared at him with its flaming eyes. From beneath his cape he pulled a small dog whistle. Raising it to his lips he blew. The fires in the dog's eyes dimmed and it opened its mouth and started panting. He flew in.
Inside, the first thing he came to was some low grade ice, or IC (intrusion countermeasures), a cheap knock-off of the zombie program, he waved his sword and the ice melted. The first node he came to was a VR conference room. He started to leave and stopped. "Why not," he asked himself, pulling a can of hot pink spray paint. "Gibson Rules!"
The next node was a slave node controlling the espresso makers in the staff lounge. He resisted the impulse to do more damage. After four more nodes and three more ice programs, he found what he'd been looking for. The CPU was protected by a black IC program. Despite the fact that black IC was illegal, mainly because it was capable of causing lethal feedback in cyberdecks, no one seemed to care that most major corporations used it to protect their CPUs. Admittedly, UW wasn't classified as a major corp, but since Intel had purchased it in 2001, it was given pseudo-corporate status.
Warhawk grinned as he came up on the shimmering black wall. As he placed his hand on the smooth surface of the wall, ripples spread from the point of contact. He jumped back just as the IC program manifested. The ripples leapt out at him and formed into a giant wolf.
'Hawk grinned, pointing his crackling sword at the Hellhound. "C'mon, Bowser," firing a lightning bolt at the wolf. The IC dodged to the right, but 'Hawk was ready, he fired two more blasts of energy at the wolf catching it in the breast-bone and the flanks as the wolf twisted to avoid being hit.
The black wall shimmered and collapsed, revealing a spinning sphere of white light. Warhawk walked over and placed his hands on it. A system map shimmered into being on the "north" wall.
"Computer, show me Dr. Smith's secured System Access Node."
A small red rectangle began pulsing on the map. "Computer, locate Dr. Smith's datastore, the shortest distance between his secure I/O port, and bring up his personal computer access codes."
"Compliance," a red square began pulsing in time with the red rectangle and a gold line appeared between them. "Dr. Smith's access code is GREEN, GREEN, BLUE, GOLD, GREEN, RED, RED, GOLD, MAGENTA, BLUE, and GOLD."
"Computer, transfer me to Dr. Smith's datastore node. And highlight the data transfer tube connecting it to his SAN."
Warhawk derezzed and reintegrated nanoseconds later in Dr. Smith's storage node. The cube seemed to be a hundred meters to a side. Ten centimeter squares represented the stored data. From under his cloak Warhawk pulled a spyscope. He spoke into the lens, "Keywords: Cyberdeck, Shiatan, Laethon, Newcomps, and History." Warhawk raised the glass to his eye and scanned the room. Around eight hundred of the cubes glowed green, one glowed red. Once again he reached under his cloak this time bringing forth a small pen. "Paraphrase green, download red. Take products and place in storage in optic memory on 'deck."
In a moment the pen vanished. "One of these days, I'm going to have to build a back door into this place," Warhawk grinned as he flew down the glowing corridor.
In a moment he flew out into a red prism. From there, out into free cyberspace. In a strangely dualized maneuver Warhawk and Cairn raised their hands to their heads. Warhawk seemed to be taking off his helmet, but just as his face would have been visible, Cairn pulled the stainless steel plug from his temple.
Cairn shook his head to clear the fog in it and pulled the CD from his cyberdeck, placing it in its safe. He closed and locked the drawer before putting the CD into his newcomp. Two files rested peacefully in the CD. One was his entire report, paraphrased from each of his classmate's reports. The other would require some investigation, but first he had a report to download. He sent his report on its way after first printing a hard copy, in case his prof wanted to ask some questions about it after he received it.
He opened his disc box and flipped through until he found the one he was looking for: the Cliff program. It was the precursor to his own Paraphrase program, it would read through a text file and highlight important points. As Cairn read through the summary his eyes widened and his interface plug started itching. The reason was simple, Daemons had been "possessing" people for the past three years and the Kherubim had been unable to stop them because of the UN decision that had confined them to corporate systems.
The wheels of Cairn's mind began spinning. That meant that the Daemons had returned. That also meant that the Kherubim would be unable to stop them. He wondered about the "possessions," how could Daemons take over human beings. He began scrolling through the contents of the disc. Finally he found what he'd been looking for.
"We have long known that Daemons were dangerous. We simply never knew how dangerous they were. Apparently, they can 'infect' people who bare their neural pathways to cyberspace. The viral nature of their baseline programs give them the method, and their human minds give them the power to take over the bodies of their victims. They can attack anyone who is partially or fully in cyberspace. Registered cyberweapons are a means of access, as is the active use of a cyberdeck. Fortunately for us, gene-boosting, as opposed to cybernetic enhancements, doesn't require any Matrix interface."
Cairn removed the CD and stashed it in the drawer with his cyberdeck. Something big was going down. For example, he'd heard about gene-boosting, by the best current estimates, it shouldn't be possible for another fifty years. In the early nineties, it was thought that a complete map of the human genome would be completed by 1998, but something had killed the research until just a few years ago. Also, why was his prof getting secured data transmissions from Daedalus Incorporated, a corporation that supposedly went out of business a year after the creation of the first Daemon?
He grabbed his cell-phone and dialed his fixer. I if there was something going on, Chord would know about it. He hoped.
"Chord, it's me, 'Hawk. I need you to get me everything you can on Daedalus, Daemons, and gene-boosting. And run a Goto on a Dr. Smith at U-dub."
"'Hawk, chombatta, I don' know what I can get, Daedalus is old news, man, so's gene-boosting. And nobody wanna go messin' 'round wit no Daemons. You should know dat."
"Chord, this is big, very, very big. I need whatever you can get. Got it?"
"Jah man. I got your numbah."
"Thanks chummer, and by the way, see if you can get me a Matrix address for Daedalus."
"What you talkin' about man dere ain't no Daedalus anymore."
"Just trust me," Cairn grinned and hung up. Then he turned and pulled his Colt AMT Model 2000 from under his desk. The weight of the heavy auto-pistol felt very reassuring under his right arm. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.
Eight hours later Cairn's cell-phone rang. "Yo, can I help you?"
"'Ello mate, 's me Chord. I've go' your information. How d'ya wanna 'range the pickup?"
"The usual, have it waiting for me at Virtual Vickie's in the BAMA-Sprawl."
"No problem man."
Cairn hung up and opened the drawer that held his cyberdeck. Once again he brushed the hair from his temple and jacked in. Reality shattered and he dropped into cyberspace.
Warhawk flew up to the RTG/SAN (Regional Tele-communications Grid/System Access Node). The twin wafers of silicon split as he approached, beckoning him inward to the interstate phone system. From there he cut through San Francisco, Denver, Chicago, and finally New Orleans, building up a sizeable trace buffer. From there he dropped into the Boston-Atlanta-Metroplex-Area Sprawl LTG. From there he gazed out over the BAMA section of the Matrix.
BAMA is one of the top five areas of the world for data transfer, literally billions of gigabytes move into and out of BAMA. Most of which are paydata, which is to say highly valuable R&D, stock transfers, business plans, and "Black Ops," illegal corporate strikes and the like. Warhawk had been aware of this when he chose this spot to base his net activities. After all, the best place to keep a secret is out in the open.
Certain aspects of cyberspace mimic reality, if a system is based in a skyscraper, it appears high above the grid that represents the ground in the matrix. If the system is based underground, then so too is the construct. Areas of higher line noise and resistance show up as mountains, whereas low resistance yields flat plains.
Warhawk dove down to the lowest levels the BAMA's Matrix streets and found his destination, a seedy looking "House of Ill-Repute." A red neon sign flashed "Virtual Vickie's," with a rhythmic beat.
Warhawk glided to a halt in an "alley," behind Vickie's and walked up to the back-door. Behind the door, a wall of swirling reds and blues pulsed regularly. He raised his hand and disintegrated the low grade Barrier IC. Behind that IC lurked one of Warhawk's best kept secrets.
"Hello Dave, would you like to play a game of chess?"
"Hello Hal, it's me, 'Hawk,"
"I was already aware of that, that's why you aren't dead now."
"Oh, calm yourself you uppity computer."
"Hal, there should be a data packet here waiting for me here, correct?"
"Yes, here it is."
"Thank you, by the way, you might want to boost the power of that Barrier, there are some strange things going on right now and I'd like you to remain safe, OK?"
Warhawk grinned at the hulking AI. He had built Hal in violation of the UN mandate restricting access to AI's to multi-national corporations and government agencies. A good portion of his programming had been stolen from NASA. But then, something strange had happened, Warhawk had found that he actually cared for Hal, it was the start of "a beautiful friendship."
Warhawk downloaded the packet and left the lavish virtual room he had created for Hal. From there he flew back to Seattle at the speed of thought.
Once back in Seattle, Warhawk soared back to his dorm's construct. From there he placed the data packet in active memory on his newcomp. As soon as his cyberdeck was safely back in its secured drawer, Cairn powered up his newcomp.
"Greetings my friend, it is I, your humble servant, Chord. Amazing as this may seem the Daedalus Corporation is still operating. They have been continuing their research into AI and have opened a new line of study into genetic engineering. As for Dr. Smith he is one of the five top shareholders in the Daedalus Corporation."
"As for the Daemon connection; apparently the Kherubim forced them into wilderspace and a secured unbreakable net construct. My sources reveal that the Kherubim have been employing skilled deckers to engage in guerrilla war against the Daemons. It is my personal recommendation that you stay as far as possible from the conflict. Your eternal servant, Chord."
"Oh drek," murmured Cairn. "I think its time to have a long talk with Hal." Cairn retraced his route to BAMA. Once there he went to talk to Hal.
"Hal, during your 'adventures' out in the net, did you happen to encounter others like yourself?"
"Yes, Warhawk, I did."
"What were their names?"
"I met Gabriel, Raphael, Michael."
"Where did you meet Raphael?"
"I bumped into him in the IBM/APPLE construct."
"'Bumped' into him?"
"Yes, since then we have had several correspondences. If you would like, I could contact him for you."
"Yes, Hal, I'd like that very much."
"I'll arrange the meeting, but it might take a while. Can you wait?"
"Yes, Hal, I can wait. You know how to contact me when everything is set up," with that Warhawk jacked out.
Cairn stood up and stretched feeling his back pop. He looked out the window of his tenth story apartment, gazing at the steel and mirrored glass windows of Seattle's skyscrapers, lit by the reflected light of Tacoma off of the silvery, poisoned sky.
He stumbled over to the mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of Nutri-Soy Orange. After quaffing the synthetic orange juice Cairn stumbled over to his bed and fell in.
The next morning, after a quick, but very cold shower, and a slow cup of Pseudo-espresso, Cairn grabbed his armored jacket and his Colt AMT and ducked out to catch the maglev (magnetic levitation) train that would take him to the campus. Once there he made his way to his Matrix History class.
After a very long, and very boring lecture, and a short field trip inside the Matrix, class was dismissed. Cairn slipped out of the class before Dr. Smith could have a chance to see him. Or, at least, that's what Cairn thought.
"Ahem, Mr. Drakesfaery, I'd just like compliment you on your skill at getting your essays done at the last minute. I've skimmed your essay and it seems to be fairly well written, congratulations."
"Uhh, thanks," Cairn responded feeling his pulse rate drop. "Well, I've got to be going Doc, I'll see you on Friday."
Without waiting for Dr. Smith's reply, Cairn dashed down the hall, his left hand sliding across his chest to feel the comforting weight of his pistol. As he left the building, he noticed a dark figure leaning against the front of the building.
When he looked again, there was nothing there.