Chapter 13

The LSN, or Living Sigil Network, is a worldwide digital network for data storage and communication. Some call it the Internet, or The Web, but most refer to it as the LSN. This network is named so because every single device connected to it is both a complex sigil device as well as a node for a global, ever-changing sigil. Hence the term Living Sigil.

I sat outside the Kelker Corner Store, watching and waiting. After Navor had given me my job, I packed everything I thought I might need and set out on the three-block trip. I will admit that the brief trip was more stressful than I’d liked. It seemed like everyone I passed glared at me with disdain. When I was in the process of crossing a road via a crosswalk when the traffic lights said to do so, some trog ran the light, and I swore that they were trying to make me into a new hood ornament. When I got to the shop and explained what I was there for, an elderly Ceangar woman told me I wasn’t allowed to loiter in the store, regardless of my business.

So there I was, sitting on a bench across the street, acting like I was reading the news on the therra while I waited for a thief. The shop next door to the corner store was an electronics repair business called Crossline Electronics Repair. I was tempted to stop in and see if I could buy some spare parts for my tinkering later. But I restrained myself because I had a job to do. Besides, the store didn’t open until 11 AM.

The minutes ticked by at a slothful pace that I found excruciating while I watched for a thief. When 11 o’clock rolled around, I watched a middle-aged Human man step up to the repair shop with a keycard. Only minutes after the store door was opened by the man, Regulators pulled up in tactical cars, emergency lights blinking. A squad of four heavily armored Regulators stepped from two cars and hurried inside.

With no sirens blaring but warning lights strobing and no one leaving the building, my curiosity was piqued. On a whim, I digitally plugged my therra into the local Regulator communication frequency. The security for their system was paltry, even for my basic skill level. So I was in and listening within moments. There was a lot of coded chatter between the agents on site and dispatch, but I caught one term that was used frequently. A ‘code 6719-red’. When I looked up what that meant on the LSN, I found it meant an accidental death during a break-in.

That raised some questions. It wasn’t a murder, or even an accidental murder, each with different codes from this 6719-red. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone accidentally died in an electronic repair shop while looting it. Did the poor sod slip on a circuit board and break their neck? Maybe they somehow severed an artery on a piece of quartz board or plastic. I had to know the truth.

So when half of the Regulators left the scene with the Human man, I moved to the back of the building through a side alley. With agile ease, I jumped a brick wall blocking off the backspace behind the shop. When I saw the magnetic lock of the back door, I thought I was lucky that I had prepared for lock picking ahead of time for just such an instance. I slapped a magnetic disruption disk on the lock and let it fry the battery to the magnet, only to find that I was even luckier than I thought. The lock had already been cracked. I pocketed the unused disk and slipped in through the door, quiet as a ghost.

While I was looking up Regulator comms codes, I also took some time to check out their standard procedure. Two Regulators would stay behind to watch the crime scene while they waited for the investigation team to arrive. When I looked up response times to the local area, I estimated I had about ten minutes to get in, look around, and get out without getting caught.

The lights of the shop were on, burning with a cold blue-white fluorescent light. The back room was a total mess. Rows of shelves lined the space. Each and every shelf was broken into cubbies that were labeled with a case identifier number and packed full of half-finished projects. As I examined the projects, I saw late-era cell phones, which were a rare sight these days, game consoles, standalone microwaves, power tools, laptops, holo-display televisions, and more that I didn’t care to identify from the shambles of components heaped together.

The whole space smelled of quartz dust from circuit boards, solder, and solvents. I noticed a door to the right side of the room from where I stood and slipped through it. There, I found what I was looking for. Laying on the floor was a male Moon Elf, dressed in a black thief’s suit complete with a tool belt. He lay face down on the floor in a rather unflattering position. The corpse reeked of burnt meat and voided bowels.

His light blue-white skin looked bruised from the neck up, with an ugly purple coloring. The corpse’s pink-red hair was worn shaved on the sides and long on top and tied into a single braid down to his upper back. When I drew closer, I noticed that the royal purple sclera of his eyes was shot through with burst blood vessels. His goatee-covered jaw lay slack, swollen tongue just barely visible behind his pale lips. A RAT Tail cable ran from the base of his skull to attach to a personal computer terminal on the desk in front of him. I looked closer at the base of his RAT Tail to find the cable partly melted, and the mechanical slot mounted to the skull was blackened with scorch marks.

The best I could figure was that the poor shmuck’s neurons got cooked by Lethal Synaptic Stimulation Feedback, simply called Brain Scorch. The condition was a serious threat at the early age of full-dive. But Brain Scorch shouldn’t have been possible in the modern age. I might not have been a digital world genius, but I was almost positive that there were dozens of countermeasures in place on all systems to prevent it.

This made me wonder what he was digging into to cause something so serious. I looked around for another terminal that I was reasonably sure wouldn’t cook my brain like an egg in a microwave. It was simple enough, as I found another identical terminal on the other side of the room. I snuck over to the computer and double-checked all of its access ports for traps before pulling the RAT Tail from the base of my own skull and slotting the jack into the appropriate port.

My vision faded from reality into total darkness before blinking into cyberspace. I was dimly aware of my physical body, and if I focused, I could move my limbs if needed. The world around me was formed from simple and complex shapes made up of lines of a variety of colors. The space I was in was the local shop's server. I floated in a narrow hall with rows of cubbies to either side, much like in the physical back room, only these were digital-floor-to-digital-ceiling walls made up of cubes with small doors. The floor and ceiling were simple plains of solid teal. The small cubes that made up either wall were sea foam green with navy blue handles.

I floated down the aisle, looking for anything out of place. It didn’t take long for me to find something. The first thing that I found was an open cubby near the floor. I poked my cyber head into the space to find it totally empty. I checked for residual data of what was kept there, but the space was scrubbed clean. I pulled my head free and stared at the open box for a few more moments while I thought. Then I noticed the next out-of-place thing.

Near the top of the wall, to my left, was a small cube with an ajar door. I levitated up to the cracked door and pulled it open to find a digital folder. This folder looked to me like a nine-inch by five-inch box of black graphics with teal lines. Hovering over the folder was a label that read Customer Information & Critical Business Notes.

I pulled out the folder from its space to hold it between both hands while I eyed the seam and lock. Sure enough, the folder was locked and secured with IC. This was displayed as a simple lock design that flexed and fluctuated with the occasional growth and retraction of small spike-like limbs. The spikes were a visual representation of IC, Intrusion Counter-measures, simply called ice. Comparing the IC on this digital folder to the IC I found in Academy files, the one I held then was painfully simple.

I poked the lock with a single finger as I willed that digit to take the shape of a simple skeleton key. The actual shape of my finger didn’t actually matter. What mattered was the Lock Breaker algorithm I had just plugged in. The warped digit slipped into the lock, and green threads of glowing light reached out from my keyed finger to make contact with the growing and retracting spikes of the IC. Each thread emitted a code when it came into contact with the IC, and within moments, the lock clicked open.

Inside, I found two files, predictably labeled Customer Information and Critical Business Notes. Both of the files were shaped like twelve-sided polygons with navy blue faces and bright teal seams. I made a copy of both files and uploaded them to my therra for a later in-depth look. But I need to check something before I snuck a peek into either of those files.

I closed the folder and activated a program installed into my dive avatar called Seek Sight. The program let me inspect the coding of other programs that I normally couldn’t look into. I inspected the IC on the lock and found something interesting. My skeleton key had only finished the work of someone else who had started working to crack the security. I dug a little deeper and activated another program called Anyl-find to work in tandem with Seek Sight. Anyl-find was a friend to those like me who had a basic understanding of coding but weren’t experienced enough to look at a second of code and identify what it did. When I found what I was looking for, my worries were confirmed, and my confusion cranked up another notch.

The IC couldn’t have cooked the thief’s brain. It wasn’t even Black IC, which could be dangerous. Black IC were hostile defensive programs that could cause serious damage to anything or anyone that was hooked up to the net and trying to break through it. The stuff I was looking at was tantamount to a simple three-pin padlock.

That had me raising a digital eyebrow. I reactivated the IC and sealed the lock before putting the file back and pulling up the files I had copied. The thief had died while attempting to steal customer information and business notes. So, I started with the notes document, thinking that would be the most likely location to find something useful.

The large majority of the document was utter gibberish to me. Here and there, I recognized terms like ‘dividend’ or ‘equity’, but the key info was at the end of the document. At the bottom of the bullet point note sheet was a single company name typed out in all red capitals font: ‘VARTEX Corp’. Beside the company name was a note that read  ‘No Business Allowed’.

I closed the document and was about to jack out when I felt a rough hand grasp my arm and yank me to the side. My RAT Tail was unplugged aggressively and against my will. As reality came back into focus, I turned to whoever pulled me with an expression of shock, anger, and annoyance.

I found myself looking up, face to face, with an angry-looking female Grytess Orc. She was dressed from the neck down in matt black tactical ballistic plate armor. Her head was half obscured by a matched black helmet with a one-way visor.

“What in the nine hells are you doing, kid?!” she demanded.

I needed to think of an excuse and a believable one, fast. I decided to go with a half-truth warped in a simple lie.

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I just wanted to see what all the deal was.” I pointed to the back door with my free hand. “I’m th-the trash boy for the shop. I f-found the back door unlocked, and I g-got curious.” I hid my inward smirk as I used the stutter I had been so ashamed of for years as a tool. I pointed to the corpse with the same free hand. “I poked m-my head in and found him th-there, like that, and I g-got worried.”

The regulator looked at me in confusion, but she seemed to by the act. “What does seeing a body have to do with you jacking in?”

So, I doubled down on my lie. “W-well, I’ve been wanting to apprentice here. I’ve been watching how everything works. When I saw the d-died guy, I panicked and thought the system was fried. I wanted to check and make sure everything was working. I-I was hoping that if I did good enough, I could earn that apprenticeship.”

“You see a body jacked into the system, and your first thought is to jack in too?” The Orc scoffed in disbelief. I was worried that she didn’t buy the story until she said, “Kids these days. So eager to look good, you don’t think. That coulda’ gotten you killed, boy.” She scolded. I lowered my gaze in mock shame and slightly curled in on myself to seem properly chided.

Without another word, she dragged me by the arm out of the front of the shop, past her Human partner, to literally throw me into the street. “I better not see you here again, fiend-kin.” She shouted at me before slamming the door shut. I staggered a few steps before falling onto my palms.

I pulled myself to my feet and rushed to the sidewalk across the street as a passing car sped up in what I bet was an attempt to hit me. I turned to face the shop at spat into the gutter before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I mumbled, “Damn Regs. Is everyone in this city out to get me?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets as I slouched forward. The whole brief trip back to the bench across the street, I grit my teeth with a venomous vigor. I threw myself into the seat and crossed my arms as I brooded over what had just happened. It seemed like ever since I had arrived in the city, every adult had been either upset or downright hostile to me. Even the new members of my team were aggressive and derogatory to me. Was being a Darkling so bad?

I chewed on my lip, so lost in thought I almost missed a compact figure leaving the corner store in a hurry with an armload of something. Was that a Ceangar? I wondered as I shot to my feet to make a hot pursuit. 

Sprinting, I crossed the street, and down the alley I had snuck down not twenty minutes before. I caught a glimpse of a shape flitting down a side path. With a new drive, I pushed on down the very same side path.

Just as I caught sight of the nimble shape, it vanished down another side street. Whoever it was, they had a sizeable head start and knew these streets far better than me. So, I’d need to find a way to outmaneuver them.

Keeping up my pace, I closed the distance between me and the wall on my right. When I was halfway toward the corner that the shadow had turned down, I aimed my gauntlet at the corner of the building on that side. I triggered my grappling hook. The hook took root at the brick corner of the building beside me, and without skipping a beat, I immediately triggered the retraction of the cable. As I was pulled in, I lept, simultaneously triggering the first enchantment on my Pacer Shoes. My footwear gripped the wall face as if it were flat ground. I used the hook to keep myself stable as I ran along the wall, climbing up the face just as much as I ran across it.

The moment I reached my hook, I fully detached the hook from the wall and kicked off the wall face as I triggered the second enchantment in my devious footwear. A controlled and directed blast of kinetic energy launched me forward and up. I landed safely in a crouch atop the rooftop across the sideroad the figure had turned down. I broke into another sprint across the roof toward where I knew the small stranger would have to reach next.

I underestimated my momentum as I neared the edge of the roof and was forced to make another kinetic leap to the roof across the way. Unfortunately, I didn’t check to make sure the next building’s roof was the same level as the roof I was leaping from. As it turned out, the roof I was aiming for was two stories taller. I learned this seconds before I splatted against the wall like a wad of chewing gum at velocity. I peeled off the wall like overtaxed velcro. Before I could totally fall, I kicked off the wall with yet another kinetic jump to direct myself back onto the roof I had left. I landed with a directed tumble before popping back to my feet. I’d need to practice with the shoes before I needed them in a serious pinch.

I looked into the alley below to find the minute shape fleeing down another side path that dead-ended in a wire fence. Just when I thought they were about to stop and backtrack, they slipped through a small hole that I overlooked at the edge of the fence near the adjoining concrete wall. The Ceangar slowed after passing through the hole and trotted into the abandoned warehouse just on the other side.

It was that warehouse that I had slapped against like a comedy stunt double. I took a moment to give the building a solid inspection from my position. The ground-floor windows were all barred shut with surface welded bars. The door the stranger had slipped through was half open, with a slack chain and a long-severed lock hanging from the rusted handle. Many of the windows at my level were all coated in grime and muck, a few of them were broken or just left open.

I took one of these open windows as my ingress point. I found one, not far from the entrance the Ceangar took, that was just open enough for me to fit through if I got creative with my tumbling. With a running start, I leaped at my target window and angled myself sideways in mid-air to slip through the space. After I passed through the entry with no issue, I tucked and rolled. When I came to a stop, I thanked the Nameless Goddess that I hadn’t just dived headfirst into one of the many abandoned desks in the large room I had landed in.

The space was dark, musty, and smelled overwhelmingly of moldering wood and rust. The dark aspect caused me little issue thanks to my species. One of the few authentic things I had learned about Darklings was that we have exceedingly impressive vision in dark spaces. Of course, this came at the cost of painful light sensitivity. But I had long since gotten used to the needles in my eyes in lit spaces. That didn’t mean I was immune to light. Camera flashes and other similar effects dialed up the feeling of needles in my eyes to molten daggers.

I crept through the office space, keeping my eyes and ears on edge for anyone in the space. I had heard stories of Ceangar gangs pretending to be Human children right up until they stabbed and mugged their tag (slang term for a target for robbery or murder). I was not eager to find a blade in my guts. So I stayed on high alert as I passed from the office space into a dank hallway. The walls of the hall had large holes in the drywall from looters taking the copper piping and valuable wiring. Bare support beams were visible every few paces down the hall, between the open doorways with doors stolen right off the hinges.

I stopped at each doorway, peeking in to examine the space before moving on once I was sure they each were empty. I was on my way toward the stairwell when I stopped near the obvious exit. A space to my left once held a metal door. I could tell from the matching metal frame that was patched with peeling paint to reveal thick rust beneath. A metal door was something to take note of. That normally meant the space required stronger security. I knew I would likely find little more than dust and empty boxes. But I took my chances in the hope of finding something useful.

I struck gold as the doorway opened onto a scaffolding system that overhung the warehouse storage area. The metal walkways were meant for maintenance crews to work on the automated hoists and cranes that moved cargo from one location to another. The only thing that remained of those systems was a lattice of rusting rails that hung below where I was and over the expansive room below.

The cavernous space beneath me was broken up only by a few steel support pillars, a scattering of smashed crates, and a carpet of trash and debris. In a corner of this site of disarray was a single point of light. I crept across the scaffolding to get a closer look. When I was right above the small circle of light, I realized what it was. A Light Stone, a simple enchanted item that could be picked up at any market or corner store, hung from a cord to aluminate a small space that was carpeted with stained, torn, and burst pillows. Among the pillows were small broken toys, half-full snack food bags, and assorted keepsakes that only a child would take an interest in.

That told me enough of what was going on, but the three shadowed figures that huddled at the edge of the light around something confirmed it for me.

“Come on, Bit. Hand it over.” Came a young boy’s voice in a demanding tone.

“Byte, don’t be an ass.” An older boy’s voice said in a stern tone.

“Oh, come on, Gig.” said the first boy. “I’m not being an ass. I’m just hungry.”

“Bit klept it. So he gets the first handful.” Said the older boy.

“Yeah!” said an even younger boy as the smallest shadow stepped into the center of the light.

He definitely was the figure I saw leaving the corner store. The kid, a young Human boy no older than seven years, was dressed in grungy jeans with holes in both knees, a stained blue t-shirt, and street shoes that looked near the breaking point. His chocolate brown hair was an utter mess that looked to have been cut by an armature, possibly done himself.

Close behind the first boy was a second. This one was older and looked to be around twelve years old. He was dressed in just as dirty black jeans that were held up by a belt, clearly meant for an adult. His red hoodie was smudged with dirt, grease, some other unknown substances, and a hole at his right elbow. This boy’s shoes looked better, but were clearly stolen because they were a few sizes too big. He made up for the size difference by wearing several different socks on each foot, none of them matching. His hair was a caramel brown-blond and was almost shaved to the scalp. What hair was left was a thick peach fuzz across this head.

Standing protectively in front of the first two boys was a third. This boy looked only a few years younger than me, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. He was dressed in a grimy green t-shirt under a just-as-grimy jean jacket that had seen far better days. He wore stained and smeared gray jeans with ragged cuffs over shoes that were actually falling apart, held together with tape and wire. This boy’s hair was copper-burgundy and worn long, down to his shoulders. His hair looked greasy and ill-kempt.

“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” The oldest boy pressed.

“Some schizo tried to chase me,” the youngest boy said around a mouthful of food. “But I lost the skavy before I even hit the fence.”

I took that as my cue. I latched my squid hook to the metal ceiling above with a reverberating clang before I made a controlled drop just on the edge of the light. As one, the three boys whirled to face me. They all looked totally panicked. So I raised my hands in a gesture of peace as I slowly walked forward. I also made sure Venna was invisible so that I looked totally unarmed.

“You’re gonna need to work on your evasion, kid.” I said with a kind and amused smile.

The younger two made to bolt for the door while the older one pulled a weapon from his back pocket. I triggered a kinetic jump only strong enough for me to block their route of escape as I said, “Whow, whow. I’m not here to hurt you.”

The younger two skidded to a stop before backpedaling behind the oldest, who pointed a pistol at me.

“Yeah, like we’ll believe that dreck.” The oldest snapped as he stepped in front of the younger two.

“Hey.” I said in mock defense. “You don’t even know me. How do you know I’m spewing dreck?”

“Because,” the gun-wielding boy licked his lips in a nervous action. “If you’re here, you either want what we have or to hurt us. That’s always how it goes.”

“And if I said that I was here to help?” I asked in a light tone as I moved my raised hands in a ‘what if’ gesture.

“I’d call that a lie!” the armed boy snapped. “Now leave before I put a slug between your eyes.”

I gave him a look that said I knew what he claimed was total crap before kicking up a cloud of dust and debris into his face. In the same motion, I slipped to the side as the gun went off in a blind shot. I closed the distance and harmlessly disarmed the kid in a single smooth action. He staggered back while wiping the dust from his eyes. I ejected the weapon’s magazine and pumped the slide to eject the primed round before pocketing the magazine and tossing the useless weapon at the oldest boy’s feet.

“I could’ve killed all three of you before you could escape or hit me once. Now, do you believe that I come in peace?”

The oldest boy eyed me for a long moment before snatching the pistol from the ground. While all this happened, the younger two hid in the corner. “Then what do you want?” snapped the oldest. I could tell that he was trying to seem tough for the sake of the other two.

I stepped into the light to reveal myself, which drew gasps from the three while I flopped down onto a cushion. The pad was shallower than I thought, and my tailbone screamed at me from the impact. In an open show of weakness, I leaned to the side and massaged a butt cheek. “So here’s the deal.” I started as I patted the cushions beside me in a sign for them to sit down. It took them a long few moments before they each took a seat, but all three of them were in positions to easily jump up and bolt if needed.

“I was hired to catch a thief that has been regularly kelpting from the Kelkade Corner Store. I’m guessing that’s you three.” I gave each of them a pointed look. “So here’s the deal. I’ll give you some advice to make your klepting a bit easier, and I might even be able to get you guys some food and new clothes if I can swing things right.”

“And why would you do that?” The oldest snapped at me. “Yeah! Why!” parroted the youngest.

“Before I give you my backstory, how bout we give names? I’m Iver.”

The middle boy scoffed as he said, “What a stupid name.”

I eyed him till he looked away, but other than that, I let it slide. I knew I was terrifying to these kids, but I honestly did want to help them.

“I’m Gig.” said the oldest. He nodded over to the middle boy. “He’s Byte, and the young one is Bit.”

“Like sizes of digital data? I like it.” I said with an open smile. “So, here’s the deal, guys. Up until just last year, I was in the same position as you all. My father was snuffed, and I was left on the streets to fend for myself. So let’s just say I have a soft spot for you all.”

“Yeah?” Gig accused. “And why should we believe you?”

I decided to take a gamble and tossed him the magazine to his pistol. Then I leaned back on posted arms as I said, “If I’m lie’n, I’m die’n. If you don’t trust me, then shoot me.”

Gig scooped up the magazine and slapped it into place. “Then what do you want?”

I scrunched up my lips as I thought of a reasonable trade for what I was offering. It was easy to tell that they wouldn’t take charity from a stranger. “I’m new to the city. How about I ask you guys for info on the local area in exchange for the goods I’m offering?”

“That’s all?” Byte asked in disbelief.

“Hey, I’m from a Green Zone city past the walls. I only just arrived here yesterday, and I’ve got no clue who to know or avoid, where not to go, or what to ask to get the good stuff.”

“Seriously?” Gig asked in disbelief.

I gave a noncommittal shrug. “How would you feel if you had just been dropped into a totally unfamiliar environment that you had never known before?”

“I-I don’t know.” Gig bashfully admitted.

“Well, I'm pretty sure that if you got spontaneously teleported into the depths of a forest, you'd want to safely locate food and water as well as how to build a shelter. That’s all I’m asking for. Info to keep me in one piece while I’m in the city.”

“And what do we get in this exchange?” Gig asked with a wary tone. “Yeah, what?” echoed Bit.

I couldn’t help but give an honest grin. I had always wanted siblings, and those three were the best kind of family, in my opinion. “Well, for starters, I’ll give you guys some advice to make your klepting easier and safer. That much I’ll give free of charge as a show of good faith. But if you can give me the general download on the area, I’ll buy all three of you each four fresh changes of clothes and a solid meal. And if I can come to you guys with questions later, for each question answered, I’ll buy each of you a hot meal. I’ll even throw in an extra, sweet bonus.” I left the baited question hanging like a fishing line. With a knowing smile, I finished my lure to draw them into asking.

What I was doing was a minor form of social engineering. Social engineering is a key tool in spy work. This is something everyone does to some degree without knowing just because of how a sapient mind works. Asking leading questions, leaving a common phrase half-finished to cause an idea, or tricking someone into believing something that was implied but never said are all just a few examples of social engineering. A carefully worded question or two and a few leading comments can make someone come up with an idea that you plant in their mind and make them think they came up with it all on their own. This can make someone give you information that they might not have intended to share.

What I was doing might have been seen as underhanded by some people, but in my mind, it was for the good of these kids.

“What kind of bonus?” Asked Gig, still wary of me.

“We talken clat?” Asked Byte with excitement.

“Sorry, kiddo.” I apologized. “I might have an income, but I’m not exactly swimming in coin. What I’m talking about is if you hear something worth knowing and you stop by my place, I’ll pay you in food and supplies for the info.”

“And what’s stopping us from feeding you total dreck news to keep feeding us?” Gig asked.

I gave the kid another honest smile as I said, “If you come over with or without info, I will feed you if I can. If you come with good info and I don’t have the means to give you food, I’ll give you useful supplies.”

“What supplies could you possibly give us that would help?” Byte accused in question.

I gave a simple shrug before I lifted up my right hand and revealed Venna for open display. “I’m pretty good with tools. I could give you useful survival gear, raw crafting material to sell off for some spare clat, or I might be able to craft you something special if the info is good enough.”

“Fine.” Gig gave in. “Where can we find you?”

“South East of Kelker Corner Store on Bold Saber St., look for the house with the razor-wire rose painted on it. My party is staying there, so don’t get freaked if a Dracose or an old war hound of a Human lady answers the door. Just ask for Iver.”