Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

on disgusting. They cared only for tech and what it could do for them, and often forgot or disregarded the needs of the mere meat they lived in. The current representative, who rejoiced in the code name of Wired Bunny, looked like he’d died several days ago and been dug up especially to make this report. His skin was a dusty gray, and his face was sharp and bony to the point of emaciation. A nutrient tube was plugged into a vein in his neck, and a computer jack disappeared into his empty right eye socket. He smiled vaguely at his audience, revealing a set of truly awful teeth. “Like, wow, so many people in one place. I can dig the ambience from here. Greetings and salutations, meat people, this is the very heavy-metal dude Wired Bunny making nice with you. Hallelujah, let’s all speak in tongues! Power to the people who believe they’re real, and to those still thinking about it. To everyone else, the secret is to bang the neurons together, guys. Me and my totally buzzed-in associates have been surfing the silicon in the Matrix in search of those utterly bad metal mothers from the place we don’t mention, and so far I have to tell you we’ve found utterly squat. Zip, de nada, less than zero. Lots of signs that something mega’s been and gone, but don’t ask who or what or where, unless you want a lot of technical speak that even we don’t understand half the time, because we’re having to make it up as we go along. We’re the frontier, people, and it sure is strange out here. “ ‘Course, it hasn’t helped that large areas are marked off limits by the larger business constructs. Paranoia city, cousins. We’ll break through eventually, if only because we do so love a challenge, but it is slowing us down some. Don’t suppose you heavy business dudes would care to volunteer the entry codes? No? Didn’t think so. Damn, these negative vibes are freaking me out. Hold on while I boost my endorphins again. Oooh… groovy. You guys talk among yourselves for a bit. I think I’m going to have a little lie-down and fry a few brain cells I’m not currently using. Wow, the colors, man.”
    “Wait!” said Elias Gutman. “Haven’t you anything useful you can tell us?” “Oh, sure, large dude, I like entirely forgot. I wrote it on a post-it somewhere… ah. Beware the dragon’s teeth. Cool. Over and out and gone, man.” The viewscreen disappeared, taking the cyberat with it. There was a long pause.
    Gutman looked at Owen. “As I recall, you recommended these… people, sir Deathstalker.”
    Owen shrugged. “They’re weird, but they know their business. Spending enough time in the Matrix will drive anyone crazy, and these people go there for fun. If the AIs have left any trace of what they’ve been doing, these are the only people who have any chance of detecting them. And we have to know. The AIs said they’d infiltrated all the major human businesses, and have been manipulating our economy to their own ends. Now, they could have been just saying that for the panic it would cause, but we can’t take any chances. If it is true, we need to know how far the infiltration has gone, and how long it’s been going on, before we can even start to put things right.”
    Gutman nodded reluctantly, his face impassive. “But your own… expert said none of the cyberats have been able to find any traces of outside meddling.” “If there’s one thing Shub knows better than us, it’s computers. They’d have hidden their tracks in places normal humans wouldn’t even think to look.
    Luckily, the cyberats aren’t even remotely normal.” “At last you’ve chanced upon something we can agree on,” said Gutman heavily. “I only wish I shared your confidence in these… people. Perhaps you could now enlighten this House with your best guesses as to what these dragon’s teeth are that we’re supposed to beware.”
    “I would have thought that was obvious even to you, Gutman. The AIs also claimed they’d been ripping
    the minds out of people as they entered the Matrix and substituting their own thoughts. The dragon’s teeth are the people walking among us who are no longer people, wearing men’s faces but thinking Shub’s thoughts. The perfect spies, even less detectable than Furies. We have no way of knowing how many there may be out there, or how deeply our security has been penetrated.”
    “Which brings us very neatly to my petition before the House,” said a harsh voice from the crowd.
    People