Why did it always seem to be trains? The gentle shake of the carriage made it hard to do her work. The target was absently tapping on his keyboard firing off emails left and right like a prince ordering about his underlings with impunity. Her connection was tentative, staying out of sight was her speciality among others so she could be positioned at the opposite end of the carriage on the lower deck, while he was on the top deck one seat back from the other set of stairs positioned at each end connecting the two levels.
His hammering on the keyboard came through like thunder and she felt each keystroke directly in her wrists like small spikes of of static electricity. Diving into the email service he used wasn’t the hardest to crack but enough money had been spent to make life difficult for slicers like her to extract the sweet nectar of their targets data. The masses of data she combed through rushed beneath her like a river after a spring rain threatening to break its banks and flood the nearby plains. How could one person generate so much useless noise, she mused. Every time she peaked into the digital closet of her targets she was amazed at the sheer volume of detritus that people held on to right along side the golden nuggets worth large sums to people of various backgrounds.
Slowly wading into the stream of data she keep an eagle eye out for the shape of the data that was the true target of her client. Something small and easily overlooked in the noise of this deluge of bytes. Her fees matched her abilities though, undetectable and always complete her results were flawless, even if she didn’t have the range that some of her competitors bragged about. In truth her ability to get a complete result was due to the volume she was able to duplicate without the effort it seemed to take from others. It may have something to do with long ago realising that having a physical connection to her storage key, gripped tightly in her palm the slight tingle of the cable end as she traced a small pattern on the top with her thumb, allowed her to transfer directly into memory everything sliced from her mark.
Slowly but surely, she closed in on the data. Once she’d spotted it marking the data allowed her to follow it like a fisherman stalking above a fish, it now had the appearance of a shining cluster of lightly pulsing crystalline cubes as if calling to her and lighting the way through the rest of the stream. Without warning she struck like a coiled snake, scooping up the data and everything around it she could hold siphoning it directly to the key. With the extraction complete, she was disembarking away from the target at the next stop. She’d been on the train for less than 8 minutes total, connected to the target for only a fraction of that but the effort it took to put one foot in front of the other as she left the train station felt like she’d done a 400-meter sprint.
Sifting the data and carving away the bloat to leave only the desired records for her client was a breeze and scant few minutes later a thumb drive had been deposited at the drop location. Getting a freshly squeezed juice from a vendor in the middle of the thoroughfare she slumped into a chair on the other side of the crowded laneway to watch the drop location from a safe distance. Establishing a connection was simple and she sipped her drink slowly regaining strength while she waited patiently. Feeling the drive sit cold and dormant in the metal box of the locker which had been the agreed upon drop site, a thought occurred to her that she should get a gig worker to make the drop next time allowing her to stay connected and anonymised from the actual drop location. Feeling a tentative touch like the kiss of a butterfly she recognised Webbly by their signature light probing before the sharp short sting of the scalpel like extraction leaving the drive empty and useless, with a familiar sting her connection was abruptly severed, the job was complete.
Flexing her wrists gently before standing and leaving the crowd behind, she briefly checked her balance had been topped up along with a note. “Another well done job. Should have another in a week or two if you’re still shoreside.” She hadn’t planned to be but maybe she’d be back by then, those decisions could be dealt with later. Making the customary transfers to the various accounts and wallets was a habit she didn’t even have to consciously make it happened as if automatic. Flipping her coat around and unzipping the internal pocket released the train that would double the length, her hat and eye wear discarded. A quick wipe and reapplication of a new shade of lipstick while she zig-zagged and double backed on herself thrice ensuring no tails or signs of trouble before exiting the busy bazar. Quickly finding one of the many e-bikes that littered the cities sidewalks she made short work accessing it for two days under the guise of vendor who’d sold her the juice. Given her cypher level was quite low compared to most she appreciated being a multi for the many benefits.
Time to check in at The Roost, if she left without checking in there’d be hell to pay and she’d already put it off for too long. Being shoreside for a month without checking in was bad enough, if word got out she hadn’t given her dues before skipping out again, she wouldn’t survive a return trip. Of course, Webbly knew she was here, but they wouldn’t inform the Matron on her behalf lest they be roped in with her. Webbly owed her much, but not that much. Lost in thought she arrived at the unassuming building before really being cognisant of really decided to make her way here. The wrought iron fly screen door seems so ordinary and outdated against the backdrop of the semi-affluent neighbourhood. No one walking past would give it a second glance aside from thinking it slightly antique.
For her however the metal instilled a sense of powerless anxiety. The siper web of wares inscribed in the metal of the door was second to none, even at this distance it leeched power directly from her fingers tips. Before the feeling became too much and she sheltered her hands in her coat pockets with an unceremonious shove. Rumour had it the piece of pure power had been created by the Matron herself and was without equal, several glitches and a storm or two had tried to pit themselves against it’s power and been hospitalised for their trouble. No one came or went here without the express permission of the Matron.
Glossary
Powers
Slice – extract specific pieces of data, trance like when in a connection, complex algorithms and protections take longer
Splice – insert smaller specific pieces of data, the more connections and authentic it looks the longer it takes and harder it is to spot as faked
Glitch – corruption or removal of data. Specific pieces take time and require a trance like focus, removal is tiring and requires discharging of collected data
Cypher – short term access to bypass authorisation, e.g. physical electronic locks, login forms
Storm – create a flood of electronic data, e.g. DDoS, static in surveillance, overload a system with junk data, takes huge effort to sustain
Sleuth – sniff out information location, can’t retrieve it but knows where it physically is and nearly impossible to block. Think bloodhound for data or wares
Operator – someone possessing powers
Smith – someone who makes wares, exploits or gadgets compatible with operator(s) powers
Units
Capacity – the amount of power(s) or data an operator or smith can wield
Ware – equivalent to a warding or static marking that is bound to a non-gadget object that holds single or multiple powers depending on the smith or operator that created it.
Wall – blocking from power or hacks, usually intangible and acts as like a trip wire or weak barrier that can be overcome once it’s discovered but gives away the operator
Exploit – single use ware given a specific power and capacity by an operator/smith
Gadget – piece of tech for expanding, focusing or directing powers