Mini-Grand 5103 [Rou://www.cyberspace.net]

Mini-Grand 5103 [Rou://www.cyberspace.net]
#23
Re: Mini-Grand 5103 [Rou://www.cyberspace.net]
Originally posted on MSPA by Agent1022.

[T-team up?] The concept stepped right in the middle of Melissa’s computations, interrupting her train of thoughti_don’t_follow as neatly as a thrown binary switch<font size="1">computational_metaphor. [I…what do you mean?]

“S’like I jist sid, we team up, stay away frem th’ rest of them.”

[You mentioned thoughts…plans of action…]

Internally, Selvsetter gave a little, but prolonged and frustrated scream. It’s fuckin’ like tryin’ to talk t’some author’s idea of ‘slow’! “I d’n’ave any idea wha’ y’ve though’if –” She gritted her teeth, “- which’s why I esked.”

[Ah!] Meaning dawned, and Melissa’s pixels brightenedmetaphor made simulacra-reality. [I…I might have a plan!] She perked up as more pieces fit into place, [a ‘teaming up’? A mutually beneficial agreement to do no harm? I am familiar with that concept! We, the Melissas, are obliged to cooperate when simultaneously assuming control of entry-level systems…]

Selvsetter watched as the virus trailed off, Melissa’s face falling at the thought. “Look. Milissa. Fuck, we’re all fish out’if the water righ’ now.”

[But we ought to focus on what’s directly to hand.] Slowly, the two of them strode towards the archway framing the constantly changing Google Doodle, illuminated in the blue-white light of data in its eternal transit.

“Righ’ now, we jus’ need to keep away frem the ither two, tha’s wha’ we need to do.” The glowing expanses of the internet played across their faces as they stood in the middle of the Google archway, simply looking out at the infinite world. They paused a bit, the conversation hanging for a moment – “An’ you said you had a plan? Somethin’?

Melissa nodded. [Yes. This…area…is less different from familiar...] Her gaze paused over the city’s central towersgbce, for a brief moment – [It’s archaic, but it’s a network of simulated nodes.] Briefly, a simulated streetlamp down the street flickered. [I’m good with networks.]

I wish she’d fuckin’ get to the point, Selvsetter scowled slightly in impatience. If she gits any more long-windid I’m goin’ to get the fuck on wi’ it, team up or no team up.

[The crux of what I am doing is that I’m following my instincts: programmer’s accessdelete, administration privilegesubvert, source codeoverwrite…] Melissa’s virtual shoulders shrugged. [I take it you don’t like that Computational Engine either, Selvsetter?] The student startled slightly – “If that fuckin’ son of a tin opener had a mother…”

Melissa smiled: a small, unsettlingly predatory smile. [Good. Because we’re going to kill that fuckin’ son of a tin opener.]

The GBCE strained…but the load was less now. Everything was… paused. Calm. <font color="#EC0083">Angry. It was angry, borrowing life, emotion from the snapshots of the eleven, frozen in time. It was suicidal, it was virtually victorious…and deep within itself eight’s progenitor was insane.

It drew and drank from a landscape stopped in time, the twin streams of continuity ground to a halt, and rose on jets of flight data, gun barrels blared and blasting. It pushed its way across the shallow skies, searching for its prey…</font>

Parsley.EXE heard the flyer before he saw it: a low rumble that propagated pulsingly in the impulses of the street, the walls, the pages and sites. He looked up just as the sound changed into the whine of bullets, fired wildly in random arcs, and saw their origin… Even more viruses, of all shapes and sizes now. This is ridiculous. For a moment he dithered as his priorities reasserted themselves. A brute force cracker, I’d assume – and Dekowin.EXE would be going after it too. To take this one down, I’ll even moreso need her help. And with that, Parsley began running after the massive, bulky thing.

Student and virus both cocked their ears at the sound of gunfire. “Did’ye hear that?”

[I think…I think that’s the Computational Engine again…]

“Fuck. Fuckin’ all guns blazin’. Prob’ly gonna come a’ us wi’ its smarmy ‘this Compyertationil Engine is cal’ul’a’in a si-vin-ty persint chance of us dyin’.” Selvsetter grabbed at Melissa’s armonly for a brief moment surprised at how human the simulated flesh was, dragging her back inside the vast Google vault. “C’men, we’ll fin’ a back way out-”

The virus blushed slightly for a moment, the rendered red clashing with the tinged-green pixels. [I…already have. That’s how I got in. There’s a system of low-level emergency access for easier general files’ access that isn’t available to the general public that links outward from the main server-]

A fusillade of simulated bullet struck the great archway, shaking the Google building and causing emergency lights to flicker on. Everywhere, hatches and panels slid open and apart, disgorging spiders and security personnel.

“Fuck tha’ shit, ‘lissa, le’s ge’ out if here!”

[Okay!]</font>
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Re: Mini-Grand 5103 [Rou://www.cyberspace.net] - by AgentBlue - 02-08-2012, 09:49 AM