Yahiko found two things that were in his favour, when he finally returned to his bed. One was that the IV stand was constructed of two metal pieces; the wheeled base would be easy enough to unscrew. Poor excuse for a weapon, but currently a better option than anything else available.

The other was – to his surprise – that the small digital readout next to his bed said that it was almost midnight. Jinei had mentioned getting someone to bring in a food tray, but at this time? Mad scientists, he decided sourly, didn't keep the same hours as everyone else.

But the other staff here – lab assistants or nurses or whoever he could expect to find outside that door – would probably work more reasonable hours. He hoped. If that was the case, then he would only have to deal with a skeleton staff on the floor. After that …

…well, it really depended on where he was. After his interview, the woman who'd smiled and hired him had arranged for a car to take him from Reception to Sumitomo's scientific compound. Orientation, she called it. Hah. Chances were good that he was still there, but what floor? Where was the exit? Who would be in his way?

Step by step, he decided. Get through the door to his room. Then work out the rest.

First he explored the room.

Mindful of the fact that - even though there was no camera in view - he was probably monitored by something, Yahiko shuffled vaguely about the small space, leaning heavily on the IV stand for support. The needle was out, but he'd re-taped it down to his skin for the benefit of anyone watching. He didn't bother trying the door; the small keypad next to it told him it would be locked. He was gratified to find a small chest of drawers hidden on the other side of the monitor. The top drawer had his clothing, neatly folded in a bundle. Far preferable to the oversized, white linen hospital gown he was wearing.

Yahiko hesitated, and then decided that putting his cargos on under the gown could be explained to anyone watching as boyish modesty. He retreated back to the bed, sat down and pulled the green pants on with effort, sweat trickling down his hairline. He had a suspicion he would prove to be too ill for this – but there would only be one window of opportunity. He didn't want to be here for the next round of tests, whatever they were. Not if they involved more injections. Hell with that. No second round, period.

It was quiet outside. Either it meant that there was nobody nearby, or his room was soundproofed. Yahiko couldn't see why they'd bother. He curled up under the covers, pulling the blanket up to his chin. It was too cold. Or he was still feverish. One of the two. After a moment, he thought to test voice recognition.

"Lights out…?"

The overhead lighting snapped off, plunging him into darkness. He sighed, and settled down to wait for his food.

After a moment, his fingers left the warmth of the blanket to feel their way down the cold metal of the IV stand and begin unscrewing it near the base.

---------

Despite Jinei's words, he had to wait nearly four hours for the promised tray of food to arrive. Yahiko fought to keep awake as he stared at the digital display in the darkness, ticking the minutes past. He wondered uneasily if – by turning out the lights – those watching had decided not to disturb him until breakfast time.

When he finally heard the shuffle of feet and the soft, tuneless singing of a woman approaching his door, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. The clock read 03:36. Just why his 'employers' had decided to bring him food at such a ridiculous hour, he wasn't sure; it was entirely possible, he thought uneasily, that the second round of tests were going to be very early.

The door slid backward, revealing the silhouette of a young woman against dim lighting, a tray held in her hand.

"Yahiko-kun?" Her voice was soft and friendly and young. "Are you awake? Jinei-san would like you to eat now."

"S'too early," he muttered back, trying to sound sleepy. Then for effect, he added "My head hurts. Do I have to eat now?"

"You can probably wait an hour if you want to," she said sympathetically, stepping into the dark room. "But you won't have time after that. You'll be needed early today."

He was right, then. Yahiko swung his feet out of bed, fingers gripping the IV stand. She sounded too nice for this. Especially since he was sure she hadn't turned the lights on because he'd complained about a headache. "Do you know," he asked warily, "What they want me for? I'm … nervous."

"I'm not sure," she said, placing the tray down on the drawers. "Um, if you want I could try and find out for you, but I'm just an assistant here."

"No, that's okay." He stood up. "And … I'm sorry."

The girl straightened and turned toward him, just as he swung with both fists. The IV stand cracked into the side of her head with a sound that made him flinch. He dropped to his knees as she crumpled, catching her weight across his arms and his lap in an attempt to give her a soft landing.

He had no idea why she thought he was here – maybe the more clueless employees had been told there was some kind of volunteer project going on. Yahiko lowered her to the floor and bit his lip, wondering how badly he'd hurt her.

He didn't have time to dwell on it; the open door gave a subtle chime. Cued by instinct, Yahiko turned, still on his knees, dived for the threshold and managed to thrust his arm through the doorway just as the door automatically slid shut. He flinched as the metal struck his arm with bruising force, and lifted a hand to wrap fingers around the edge and push. Then he breathed a sigh of relief as the door gave way and slid smoothly open once more. He had no idea if it would lock itself once closed, but he wasn't about to find out the hard way.

Stupid automatic doors, he thought savagely, getting to his feet and leaning carefully against the doorway, looking outside. The corridor was dimly lit for after-hours, and there was nobody in sight. No cries of alarm in the distance – he was probably safe for now.

Yahiko took a tentative step out onto the plush, blue carpet, shaft of metal gripped tightly in both hands, and let the door slide shut.

Nobody appeared to notice.

He let out a sigh and padded down the hallway as silently as he could, keep an eye out for cameras and taking note of the doors he passed. Some were open, showing small rooms like the one he'd just left; he couldn't make out if there were occupants or even a bed, but he doubted it. In the distance he could hear soft voices conversing amidst laughter and teasing. A surreal sound, given he'd just left what, as far as he was concerned, was a prison cell.

Maybe a reception area, he thought. And then: reception is usually close to the elevators.

Maybe if it was just some office girl flirting with her boyfriend, he'd be able to sneak past. Or … do what he had to do.

He started navigating his way through the maze of corridors. An office complex redesigned to a research area, with most rooms closed off for the night. The few that did remain open – a small kitchen, an empty suite – became a refuge he was increasingly grateful for. At four in the morning, there were still people walking the floor; usually the odd security guard doing the rounds. He had to duck into a room several times to avoid being spotted, keeping out of sight as they prowled down the corridor.

More than once, he took advantage of the room to sink onto his knees in the shadows and catch his breath back. He wasn't well. It was infuriating. He didn't have enough time as it was – the girl he'd blindsided was going to wake up eventually. She'd raise the alarm even if nobody else did.

Eventually he turned a corner, peered cautiously down the hallway and gave a soft sigh of relief. At the far end, the corridor branched out to the foyer; he could just see one corner of the reception desk and soft, night lighting of the elevators beyond. A few steps more and he could see the curve of someone's back as they faced away from him, talking animatedly to someone else. A man in a white labcoat, flirting with some girl who giggled like an idiot at his bad pickup lines. Yahiko made a face. On the other hand, at least they weren't security.

He needed to get past them to the elevators. They were too close. There was no way they were going to miss a kid in a white hospital gown tiptoeing past and waiting for an elevator. He bit his lip, easing himself into a doorway, and waited hopefully to see if they would move on.

The woman's laughter died suddenly. From the hidden side of the reception desk, a soft male voice addressed the two with words Yahiko couldn't quite make out. Whatever was said, the effect was immediate; the two separated hurriedly and strode off. He had to duck into the room to avoid being spotted by the girl as she scurried past.

When he peered back out, there was someone else in the corridor.

He recognised the coat first, and blinked. The same guy that had come in with Jinei was standing at the elevators, watching the floor monitor; either someone was using the lift or the security guard – Shinomori, wasn't it? – was about to leave. Yahiko hoped it was the latter. He scowled at the man's back. What kind of workaholic is still here at 4am? Go home already!

Then he flinched as Shinomori turned to glance mildly down the hallway. Yahiko jerked his head back inside the room, swallowing hard. Oh geez. What, can he read thoughts or something? Stupid… wiseass know-all security guard! He held his breath, listening as hard as he could. When he heard the careful, unmistakable tread of footsteps coming slowly toward him, he moved further back, nearly stumbling over a heavy desk. Yahiko sank down behind it with his hands gripping his makeshift weapon, peering carefully under the desk to watch.

The dark, booted feet came to a stop at the door.

Yahiko's heart sank. Out of all the people who could possibly discover him, he had a feeling that this man was one that wouldn't be fazed by an eleven-year old with an IV stand. He waited for the light to be switched on, or for Shinomori to demand that he show himself.

Nothing happened. Curious, he peered under the desk again. The feet were facing him now; the man was definitely staring into the room. But he hadn't said anything. Had he been seen? Maybe Shinomori wasn't sure. But then, eventually he'd think to turn on the light and remove all doubt...

And then, oddly, an eager voice called out, diverting his stalker's attention completely. "Shinomori-san! Thank goodness you're still here!"

"I was just leaving," was the cool reply. He breathed a sigh of relief as the feet turned away and Shinomori vanished from his line of sight, traveling further up the corridor. "Is there a problem?"

It occurred to him that the reception area was now completely unwatched. Yahiko couldn't believe his luck. He listened for a moment as the newcomer babbled, apparently drawing the security guard away to some other urgent catastrophe. Curiously, he wondered what on earth could have happened to this quiet floor in the early hours to merit such a panicked sound in the guy's voice. He lifted himself carefully from the floor, held onto the desk corner until he regained his sense of balance, and tiptoed for the door.

"…were right, Aoshi. He's come right in through the mainframe, brazen as you please. The administrator swears it's not Himura, but nobody else would have a reason to try cracking Kurogasa right now, and the timing's too convenient—"

A netrunner. For a few brief seconds, Yahiko congratulated whoever had the gall to actually hack into a zaibatsu system, when it occurred to him that he knew very well that there was at least one person who had the motivation and the lack of common sense to run a search into Sumitomo—

No way.

"It's not Himura," Shinomori returned flatly, words clipped.

"How do you …"

The voices faded around a corner. He had a clear exit point to the elevator.

Yahiko stood frozen in the doorway, and wondered frantically to do next. It can't be Kaoru. She's always said she doesn't have what it takes. He took a step toward the elevator and bit his lip. Maybe it's not related at all, and it's just this 'Himura' guy. Or maybe she hired someone to come in after me. Or maybe …

… Maybe she hadn't cared and tried anyway and was now way in over her head.

The elevator bank was unattended. One of the lifts had even been called to the floor. He could sprint down the corridor, dive in and leave. Once he'd left the floor, surely he could come up with some inventive way to dodge the rest of security—

He couldn't leave. Not until he found out for sure. Yahiko sucked in a breath, turned and slipped down the corridor in pursuit of the two men. The conversation came back into earshot.

"…sentry program should then serve, if it's not Himura. If you're sure." The other man sounded doubtful. "Ken put down a trace. It hasn't found them yet—"

"They'll be using a bounce program to come here," Shinomori said. "Alert ED team one. Do it now; explain the situation. Get them up in the air. We'll give them coordinates once we confirm a location."

"Aren't you part of ED one?"

"Soujiro has replaced me. The team has full numbers."

"But the Naga—"

"You have no clue how good this netrunner may or may not be," Shinomori said coolly. "A program cannot be relied upon in full. You should know this."

A door slid open; bright light flooded the corridor. Yahiko peered around the corner to catch a glimpse of LCD screens and harried looking staff before the door closed behind the two men. System Operations. They'd be working actively to stop the netrunner in her tracks.

He could still hear them well enough, though slightly muffled. Another voice rose in greeting, sending a chill of recognition down his spine. Jinei was inside; had probably been summoned straight away. "Shinomori is right. Runners have a pesky way of ghosting into the system once they know they've been discovered. Give them the smallest escape route and they'll vanish into the networks to either escape or attack from another angle." There was a pause. Then, cheerfully, "If someone's come all this way to say hello, it would be rude of us not to return the favour. I want them trapped."

"Yes, Jinei-sama."

"If it's not Himura, I'd like to know who it is and why they're coming here." Jinei mused. "But I suppose we'll find out from their location."

"It won't be Himura."

"So you said. You've yet to explain why."

"Himura," Shinomori said with a hint of acid, "Would not be this easily discovered."

"Then?"

"Corporate espionage. Someone has leaked your research. Or," he said thoughtfully, "Someone connected to your four volunteers."

The guess was far too close for comfort. Yahiko swallowed. At least he'd had the common sense not to put Kaoru down as next of kin. And then he blinked. Wait. Four?

There were more people here?

"One now," Jinei said mildly. "Shinji Matsuda finally succumbed. His immune system overloaded. He died an hour ago. But I digress…"

Yahiko stumbled back, white-faced. Not four. And he was sick, but …

… died an hour ago. Probably somewhere on this hellish floor, and he hadn't heard a damn thing. Nothing. A death in a room somewhere, quietly dealt with, no fuss …

I want to go home!

And then suddenly, there was a bark of surprise from behind him. Security was still making the rounds.

"Hey! You!"

A hand descended heavily onto his shoulder and he screamed before he thought to do otherwise, turning to slam the length of steel in his hands as hard as he could into the guard's side. Then he bolted. He heard doors open, heard Jinei's surprised question, followed by short, delighted laughter. The room spun at the edges as his body protested the sprint. Yahiko gritted his teeth and ran blindly for the elevator. Pursuit wasn't far behind him, but he had enough of a headstart that surely…

His thumb stabbed at the down button. The elevator Shinomori had summoned was still at the floor; the doors slid open invitingly without a sound. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that there were at least three guards pelting down the corridors now, tasers at the ready. Behind them all, Jinei could be seen, watching him avidly. Yahiko shot him a murderous glare and then hurled himself into the elevator.

The doors closed quietly. His legs buckled underneath him, worn and shaking, but he still reached up with one hand and pressed the button for the second floor. They'd expect him at ground…

It took him a moment to realise the elevator hadn't moved.

Yahiko stared at the buttons uncomprehendingly, reaching up to push the button harder. The lift wasn't working. He jabbed at the button repeatedly in the wild hope that the lift would suddenly jerk into motion. It occurred to him in some remote corner of his mind that he was panicking. It didn't matter. He couldn't stop thinking: immune system overloaded.

Just as he couldn't stop the soft trundle of the doors as they opened, leaving him vulnerable to the people outside. Yet there was only one man standing in front of him; he wasn't hauled out and dragged away. Yahiko shifted his gaze onto the same, dark boots as before and swallowed, curling his nerveless fingers around the length of steel.

"After hours, the elevator requires an identification code," Shinomori Aoshi said. A gloved hand reached down and took hold of Yahiko's arm, hauling him to his feet gently before letting him go. Yahiko glanced at him uncertainly; the man's eyes were unreadable. "There was no chance here. You would have been better off attempting the stairs."

Why…? Shinomori was blocking his view from outside. Yahiko swallowed. The guy seemed a lot more sympathetic toward him; at least he was being nicer than the guards would have been with their tasers. Nevertheless he took a careful step back from the lift entrance, holding the IV stand shakily between them.

"I'm sorry," he said determinedly. "I don't want to die."

Shinomori blinked. "You won't."

There was a blur of metal as the IV stand was struck from his grasp with jarring force. Yahiko barely had time to comprehend that the man in front of him was moving at all, when the second blow slammed into the side of his head with enough strength that he bounced off the wall, crumpling to the ground.

The last thing he felt before darkness overwhelmed him was a strange, faint sense of betrayal.

---------

The problem with the Naga wasn't just that it technically outnumbered her six to one. Nor was it the fact that lopping off a limb or two did absolutely nothing to a program construct … okay, that was a big problem, given the sentry's creation point was its only weak point and protected by six damn arms with swords …

…but all of that Kaoru could deal with. Somehow.

What she couldn't handle was the fact that it was eating her programs.

It wasn't a very surprising revelation – sentry programs were designed to block off every path an innovative runner could take – but it was trouble enough to make her swear. Jacking the system on a modified headset gave Kaoru some protection herself, given her nerve endings weren't solidly wired into the system; the first strike of the Naga passed through her arm with no more result than a painful sting of phantom damage. Unless the sentry got a clear head shot, she would be okay.

So she was overconfident. Just a little. And jerked as the gleaming arc of the Naga's sword sliced through her and sparked a reaction from her display, sending an unpleasant whine of feedback through her ears.

offline: rabbit

Oh crap. Give the Naga enough time and it would destroy every weapon she had. Not to mention any chance she had of stopping the Data Raven from pinging the Galaxy Bounce program and following it backwards to find out where she really was—

Kaoru ducked the next swing, cringed at the screech of two blades slicing down the concrete Wall, and aimed a desperate strike at the Naga's side. The sentry parried with ease, and retaliated by swinging an arm down over the block, blade intended to bite down into her shoulder at the neck. She yelped and threw herself backward, tumbling into the corridor behind the Naga. The tip of the sword caught and sliced a thin arc from her forearm to her wrist. She barely felt it.

offline: spyder

There was no point running. Turn a corner and she'd probably collide with another sentry. Kaoru skipped back a couple of steps, bringing the sword up warily as the Naga twisted to track her movement, bracelets and headdress glittering. Bad enough that she'd lost the speed and the spy program; if it took anything else …

… what if it takes the blade?

A stupid thought; she'd already been parried once with no ill effect from the contact. Paranoia made her back away further, swinging the neural blade out of the Naga's path of attack. If she lost the blade, she'd be a sitting duck for any further trace or alert programs; her one way of dealing with them would be gone.

She still had a sentry-killer of her own. Uneasily, she knew that if it was used now the Naga would destroy it, leaving her defenseless for any further sentries in her path.

If she was reckless enough to continue.

There was no point without defenses – they already knew she was here. Even if they thought she was someone else. Kaoru scowled.

Damn you, Himura, whoever you are!

She wasn't good enough to avoid six blades. She highly doubted anyone actually was good enough. She ducked under the next strike as best she could and parried after all, relieved when the blade held off the consequences; even so, the best she could do was avoid three strikes. The last three tore through her legs and sliced down her back from shoulder to hip. Kaoru screamed. The damage wasn't real; the pain was nothing more than psychosomatic, but it was enough.

offline: dogcatcher
offline: fait accompli
offline: cyfermaster

Kaoru hit the floor.

There went her ability to open the code gates. At least the other two were more likely to be used in one of Misao's runs … she hurt. In a few seconds no doubt she'd feel fine, but in a few seconds wasn't good enough. She curled twitching, burning legs underneath her, tried to rise, and settled for rolling across the data corridor, barely avoiding the multiple strikes that hammered into the ground where she'd fallen.

Nothing for it. "Computer," she hissed. "Activate sentry defense." Then hurriedly, as the Naga twisted sinuous, dark muscles and corrected its course, blades flashing in the neon light, she added "Placement, unobstructed!"

executing shaka.exe

Then she shifted onto her side, legs curled up, neural blade held in front of her in a position of full defense. The Naga's blades came down; four crashed jarringly on the length of the sword, nearly ripping it out of her hands. The fifth struck the floor. The sixth scraped underneath her blade to strike her knee. Kaoru yelled and held on for dear life, and prayed like mad that the next program to dissolve wouldn't be the neural blade—

offline: Galaxy Bounce

No!

On her visual display, the small, bright dot that was the Data Raven changed course and angled in a straight line directly for her location. She barely had time to grasp the scope of that disaster when the Naga opened its mouth and screamed.

There was the jangling clamour of six program-crafted swords clattering to the floor as the Naga flailed backward in its death throes, striking out at its killer. With the sentry's focus on Kaoru, it hadn't had time to process the extra presence that had formed behind it in the empty data corridor. Nor had the sentry been able to defend itself from the spear, long and polished black, which had been thrust through its chest.

ALERT: 15 seconds to compromise

The Naga shattered like glass, black shards fragmenting and then fraying away to nothing in the corridor, giving Kaoru a brief glimpse of a powerfully muscled, dark skinned warrior, near naked but for the ceremonial trappings of a Zulu hunter. The sentry-killer pulled its spear back to guard, dark eyes fixed emptily on Kaoru. He was fading as she watched.

offline: shaka

No more sentry defense, she thought wearily. And then: oh god. "Computer! Activate Replicator!"

executing Replicator
ALERT: 12 seconds to compromise

Kaoru rolled onto her stomach, concentrating past the shrill sound of the alarm for the moment on the display in the corner of her field of vision. The Data Raven was arrowing directly for her true origin point. The most the replication program could do was intercept the Raven and give a false reading; of multiple origin points that looked the same, scattered across Lesser Tokyo. Faced with choices, the Raven would choose one and follow it, but with less than twelve seconds left, there wasn't time to copy her location more than twice.

It's a two in three chance of escaping detection. That's good odds. Please …

The small, metal tube was still tucked between her fingers, stubbornly held in a death grip. If all else failed—

The alarm cut off into sudden silence as the trace program veered away, opting to follow a false path. Kaoru collapsed with a faint sound of relief. She'd weathered the first major obstacle. Better yet, the administrators would hold a record of the damage the Naga had supposedly done and assume she was either dead or forced to log out.

Which, naturally, would be the common sense thing to do in any case.She was down too many programs, and no longer had any further defense against sentries apart from the neural blade. Most of the offline programs she would have to replace entirely; the data would be inescapably corrupted.

But then, one of the programs she used was expensive, top of its line and had excellent constructed integrity, employed by top-class black-ops hackers who would field sentry programs like the Naga with ease …

"Computer," she said warily, "…Install Galaxy Bounce."

Galaxy Bounce already on file. Replace? Y / N

She laughed. Shut down temporarily by the Naga, but not destroyed. "No. Activate Galaxy Bounce."

executing Galaxy Bounce

Kaoru sighed.

She still had a window. Not much of one; the first code gate she came to and she would have to jack out, but if she was very careful she could do that undetected. And sentry programs, she might be able to avoid. Kaoru bit her lip. To continue was rank stupidity.

But she was already in the Kurogasa division. She was so close … and they wouldn't think her capable to continue.

In any case, my legs are working again. She staggered to her feet. And I better go before I'm registered as anything other than collateral damage to the network…

Carefully, she continued down the corridor. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt…

---------

FLAG: security breached
FLAG: blackice/datanaga terminated
FLAG: inner core suspicious signal

…
…
…

parameters established
activate AI

Deep within the inner core, a small figure uncurled in the darkness to stand straight. Graceful fingers gripped the hilt of the katana. Golden eyes opened, catlike in the gloom. It had been a very long time since he had last been summoned.

Time to kill.

It was the only thing he had ever been programmed to do.

---------

Even more repackaging! Thanks for all reviews, guys ... I've been run off my feet recently so haven't answered them personally. But I do very much appreciate them.