.HackRelapse
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun
Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts/characters do not belong to me.
Notes: Takes place during Outbreak. Parentheses indicate thoughts, brackets indicate writing.
Chapter 5 - To Remain Silent
----------------------------
A low whistle preceded his comment. "Not too shabby."
Grass crunching beneath their shoes, Dean and Masamoto trudged up the lawn towards the two-story house, largely barren save for a hanging trail of paper lanterns around the front porch and a bird feeder hanging from a nearby tree. The lawn, though bare, was well cared for, and the house itself looked clean, if sparsely decorated.
Excepting the Buick from which they had emerged and a white van across the street, no other cars were nearby; no lights filled the windows, appearing as empty eyes staring away from the darkened household. Clouds had secretly rolled in overhead, dark gray and eager to burst forth in a shower of rain.
As they reached the porch, Dean gestured to the doorbell. "It's your show, Mas."
Masamoto stepped up to the door and gave the bell a push. "Mr. Tanaka!" he called over the ringing. "This is the police; we'd like to have a word with you."
No response.
The two exchanged confused glances; Dean shrugged, Masamoto rang again. "Anybody home?" he hollered.
"Think we've been pre-empted," said Dean.
"Hmm."
A voice from within caught them both by surprise. "Just a minute!" Footsteps, a click of a latch being undone, and the knob turned. The door opened inward, revealing a short, stout man in his forties: eyes blue, hair short and stringy, face somewhat chubby, skin darker than the norm, and damp to boot; covering most of his body was a dark blue terrycloth robe.
"Sorry, I was in the shower," explained the man. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"
"Sorry to bother you," said Masamoto. "We're looking for a Mr. Seijiro Tanaka."
"I'm him," said Tanaka with a curt nod. "You are police?"
"Yes. We'd just like to ask you a few questions."
Seijiro's narrow gaze moved from Masamoto to Dean, and back again. His eyes went wide for a moment as Dean reached in his jacket, but relaxed as the younger man appeared to scratch an itch. "Hmm," he grunted. "Come on in."
The robe-clad man padded away from the door and into the house, leading Dean and Masamoto to the front room; the two politely removed their shoes at the entrance before following beyond the foyer.
"Before you start, who's the... American?" asked Seijiro, eyeing Dean suspiciously.
Dean's eyes met those of the Cyber Connect employee, trying in vain to read his expression and body language. He guessed that the was being spoken about, and not understanding the words didn't help to put him at ease.
(I don't like this,) he thought. (We found this guy too easy...)
"He's my... charge, I suppose you could say," replied Masamoto, mock disdain in his voice as he threw a glance in Dean's direction. "Ignore him."
"Very well." Seijiro sat down on a nearby chair. "What can I do for you, officer?"
"I'd like to ask you some questions about your work with Cyber Connect," said Masamoto. "Specifically, Morganna."
Seijiro tensed upon hearing her name; Dean detected a trace of fear on the man's face. "What about it?"
"We have reason to believe it's behind a number of related disturbances in 'The World', and that it's connected to the shootings a week ago."
The programmer nodded. "Yes, terrible business, that; I knew the programmer who died at the Takashi complex." He shook his head solemly, his eyes lowering to the floor. "I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you, Mr. Masamoto; if Morganna is still alive then it's doubtful it would be within my capabilities to stop her."
Masamoto blinked, confusion written on his face. "What do you mean 'alive'? What exactly is she?"
Seijiro inhaled deeply, his already ample chest expanding as air filled his lungs. He sighed, the robe sinking with his skin. "Morganna... was born in the original version of 'Fragment'. A primitive artificial intelligence designed, by Harold and his programming staff, for administration purposes."
"She was meant to run 'The World'?"
"In a manner of speaking," said Seijiro. "It was I who modified the program with the rest of 'Fragment' when it became 'The World'. She was to administrate, protect, and watch over 'The World' - an autonomous program that would be capable of responding to the unique challenges of its player base, evolving the game itself to suit their needs as they grew in number." He frowned. "Unfortunately, she... was not as advanced as we had hoped, not enough for our plans, or so we believed. When it was revealed that true artificial intelligence was somewhat out of our grasp, the system was scrapped and Morganna was... deleted, if you will."
Masamoto leaned forward. "Deleted?"
Seijiro nodded. "Yes, but by then she had somehow become self-aware... still not true artificial intelligence, but 'alive' enough to view its own demise as undesireable. She copied core elements of her A.I. patterns into the fabric of 'The World', meaning that even if she were deleted, she could eventually restore herself, given proper time."
"I don't understand; if you knew about this, why was 'The World' still released?"
"We didn't know about it at the time," he admitted. "Harold may have known, but I can't be certain."
Facing accusative stares from Dean and the lieutenant, Seijiro gave an exasperated sigh. "You don't understand; it's not like the company has been waiting for this to happen and trying to cover it up. We're doing what we can, but she's simply grown far more intelligent and powerful than we had anticipated; most of our staff didn't even know of her existence, and some still don't. And Harold was the one who based Fragment on the Epitaph of the Twilight; this all does seem to be following it word for word, but we're still not sure what it means."
"That puts us in the same boat," said Masamoto. "What will happen if this... Morganna... succeeds in destroying 'The World', or whatever her ambition may be?"
Tanaka turned his head away from both men; he swallowed, his face contorting in a brief grimace. "She may spread beyond it."
Masamoto glanced back at Dean and gave a small nod, and turned back as he reached into his jacket. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Tanaka," said the lieutenant, "we have no further questions for you."
Both turned to leave, but stopped in their tracks when Seijiro spoke again. "Are... you going to arrest me?" he asked, his voice sounding small and timid, accenting his vulnerable posture.
Masamoto drew a hand up and scratched at the edge of his hairline. "I wouldn't worry about that, sir... but I wouldn't leave town either, if I were you. We may yet need your cooperation again."
Seijiro nodded slowly. "Very well. Good day, Mr. Masamoto."
He froze, his face tensed, just briefly but long enough for Dean to catch notice. "Good day," he said quietly before turning away, a slight edge to his voice.
Stopping only to put on their shoes, Dean and Masamoto left together, the latter closing the door behind him, the chill of air conditioning being replaced by the uncomfortably sticky warmth of the air outside.
As they walked across the yard towards the parked Buick, Dean threw his companion a look. "You all right? What happened?"
"Did you get everything?" asked Masamoto abruptly.
Dean reached into his jacket, and removed a tape recorder from the inside pocket. "Soon as we stepped in. What'd he say?"
Pulling a ring of keys from his pocket, Masamoto circled around the front of the car. "He said my name."
"...and?" asked Dean after a beat.
The lieutenant stopped, turned towards Dean; his skin looked a shade paler than the American remembered it.
"I didn't."
-
(No messages... I'm in demand.)
Dean's sarcastic thoughts ceased as he leisurely strolled into the adjoining bedroom, his body going limp as he unceremoniously flopped down upon the cushioned surface.
From what Masamoto had translated, most of Dean's hunches had been correct; Morganna, a self-replicating artificial intelligence meant to govern 'The World', intended to grow beyond its meager constraints for purposes that couldn't possibly be benign. The men who created her were now in no position to stop her, and all their hopes apparently lay in a 14-year-old boy and a 'key' whose true function he didn't yet understand.
Dean wasn't ready to accept everything Seijiro had said as gospel; the 'gaijin' remark left the detective a little distrustful of the programmer's remarks, but his information fit too well to be completely made up. Nevertheless, he found himself fixated on the last words the lieutenant had spoken before they left Tanaka's place.
("He said my name"... are they watching us? Which one of us?)
He thought further. (It has to be Cyber Connect; if they remember me, then they've probably been following me. And all of us. Son of a bitch...)
Dean let out a satisfied groan as he stretched out on the bed, the mattress adhering to his back; he closed his eyes and folded his hands beneath his head, his thoughts fading to silence as his muscles relaxed.
-
From: Beartheworld.com
To: DStollismailserv.net
Subj: Urgent
I need to speak with you. In person, not over the internet. Meet me in front of my house.
- Ryo
-
(Well, this keeps getting better and better. Wonder what he wants this time.)
The Civic rolled gently down the street, shadows rolling off the dashboard as it passed streetlight after streetlight. Dean drummed his fingers against the wheel, the hard leather delightfully cool to the touch; the humidity of the night air was forgotten in the wake of the car's air conditioning.
More questions drifted through Dean's mind as he neared the Sakuma residence. (There's gotta be more to it than what Seijiro told us; maybe they knew what Morganna was capable of, maybe not, but I still don't see how it got entered into the system in the first place. Why consider using A.I. to administer 'The World' if it was still just a pipedream? And how could it evolve so fast if it wasn't 'true' A.I. in the first place?)
These questions and more fell by the wayside as he rounded the corner leading to Ryo's house, and a man in black stepped in the path of the vehicle, waving his arms wildly.
Dean was caught off his guard but had more than enough time to brake. The man shielded his eyes as the headlights stared him in the face, but a moment of thought was all Dean needed to recognize the man. With a puzzled frown, Dean beckoned to the man with his hand; a push of the lock button allowed him to open the door.
"Thanks," said Ryo as he climbed into the car. "Kill the lights and park. They're at my house."
"What? Who??"
"Just do it!" he urged. Dean followed the instructions, then turned in his seat and faced Ryo, covered almost head-to-toe in some sort of black cloth, from dark sneakers and trousers to a navy blue overshirt, buttoned shut. "Think it's the same guys who followed us at the shrine. Two of them in a white van."
"White van," muttered Dean. He flashed back to the Tanaka house; a similar vehicle had been parked opposite the lieutenant's car. (So they ARE following us...) "Who are they? Are they the same guys who you've seen before?"
"I don't know. All the guys I saw were in expensive cars, like company cars, usually black with tinted windows. Like they were more worried about being seen than being noticed." Ryo shook his head. "These guys just look like your average mooks."
"Where's your kid? Is she okay?"
Ryo nodded. "She's over at a friend's for the night."
Dean grit his teeth and sucked in a sharp breath of air. "All right," he said, taking the car out of park and letting it idle towards the curb, far enough away from the corner to appear inconspicuous. Parking it once more, he killed the engine and turned back to Ryo. "Cell phone's in the glove box. Call the cops, I'll go check it out."
"What are you going to do?" asked Ryo as Dean reached under the steering column and pushed the trunk release button.
"Beat some answers out of them with a tire iron," he answered flippantly, accenting the statement with a raising of both eyebrows.
Ryo's eyes almost popped out of his head. "WHAT?!"
Opening the door, Dean threw a look at Ryo. "Just call 'em. We can't let them get away, this corporate "1984" shit has gone too far."
"But I... ah..." Ryo spluttered; he ended in a groan of tenuous approval as he reached for the glove box.
Dean wasted no time in exiting the vehicle and snatching a long, heavy tool from his trunk; normally suited for changing tires, he deemed it a suitable interrogation tool for the task at hand and found himself with a growing desire to use it.
He smirked, gripping the iron with both hands and wielding it like a baseball bat. (Wonder if Big Brother'll see THIS coming...)
- End of Chapter 5
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun
Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts/characters do not belong to me.
Notes: Takes place during Outbreak. Parentheses indicate thoughts, brackets indicate writing.
Chapter 5 - To Remain Silent
----------------------------
A low whistle preceded his comment. "Not too shabby."
Grass crunching beneath their shoes, Dean and Masamoto trudged up the lawn towards the two-story house, largely barren save for a hanging trail of paper lanterns around the front porch and a bird feeder hanging from a nearby tree. The lawn, though bare, was well cared for, and the house itself looked clean, if sparsely decorated.
Excepting the Buick from which they had emerged and a white van across the street, no other cars were nearby; no lights filled the windows, appearing as empty eyes staring away from the darkened household. Clouds had secretly rolled in overhead, dark gray and eager to burst forth in a shower of rain.
As they reached the porch, Dean gestured to the doorbell. "It's your show, Mas."
Masamoto stepped up to the door and gave the bell a push. "Mr. Tanaka!" he called over the ringing. "This is the police; we'd like to have a word with you."
No response.
The two exchanged confused glances; Dean shrugged, Masamoto rang again. "Anybody home?" he hollered.
"Think we've been pre-empted," said Dean.
"Hmm."
A voice from within caught them both by surprise. "Just a minute!" Footsteps, a click of a latch being undone, and the knob turned. The door opened inward, revealing a short, stout man in his forties: eyes blue, hair short and stringy, face somewhat chubby, skin darker than the norm, and damp to boot; covering most of his body was a dark blue terrycloth robe.
"Sorry, I was in the shower," explained the man. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"
"Sorry to bother you," said Masamoto. "We're looking for a Mr. Seijiro Tanaka."
"I'm him," said Tanaka with a curt nod. "You are police?"
"Yes. We'd just like to ask you a few questions."
Seijiro's narrow gaze moved from Masamoto to Dean, and back again. His eyes went wide for a moment as Dean reached in his jacket, but relaxed as the younger man appeared to scratch an itch. "Hmm," he grunted. "Come on in."
The robe-clad man padded away from the door and into the house, leading Dean and Masamoto to the front room; the two politely removed their shoes at the entrance before following beyond the foyer.
"Before you start, who's the... American?" asked Seijiro, eyeing Dean suspiciously.
Dean's eyes met those of the Cyber Connect employee, trying in vain to read his expression and body language. He guessed that the was being spoken about, and not understanding the words didn't help to put him at ease.
(I don't like this,) he thought. (We found this guy too easy...)
"He's my... charge, I suppose you could say," replied Masamoto, mock disdain in his voice as he threw a glance in Dean's direction. "Ignore him."
"Very well." Seijiro sat down on a nearby chair. "What can I do for you, officer?"
"I'd like to ask you some questions about your work with Cyber Connect," said Masamoto. "Specifically, Morganna."
Seijiro tensed upon hearing her name; Dean detected a trace of fear on the man's face. "What about it?"
"We have reason to believe it's behind a number of related disturbances in 'The World', and that it's connected to the shootings a week ago."
The programmer nodded. "Yes, terrible business, that; I knew the programmer who died at the Takashi complex." He shook his head solemly, his eyes lowering to the floor. "I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you, Mr. Masamoto; if Morganna is still alive then it's doubtful it would be within my capabilities to stop her."
Masamoto blinked, confusion written on his face. "What do you mean 'alive'? What exactly is she?"
Seijiro inhaled deeply, his already ample chest expanding as air filled his lungs. He sighed, the robe sinking with his skin. "Morganna... was born in the original version of 'Fragment'. A primitive artificial intelligence designed, by Harold and his programming staff, for administration purposes."
"She was meant to run 'The World'?"
"In a manner of speaking," said Seijiro. "It was I who modified the program with the rest of 'Fragment' when it became 'The World'. She was to administrate, protect, and watch over 'The World' - an autonomous program that would be capable of responding to the unique challenges of its player base, evolving the game itself to suit their needs as they grew in number." He frowned. "Unfortunately, she... was not as advanced as we had hoped, not enough for our plans, or so we believed. When it was revealed that true artificial intelligence was somewhat out of our grasp, the system was scrapped and Morganna was... deleted, if you will."
Masamoto leaned forward. "Deleted?"
Seijiro nodded. "Yes, but by then she had somehow become self-aware... still not true artificial intelligence, but 'alive' enough to view its own demise as undesireable. She copied core elements of her A.I. patterns into the fabric of 'The World', meaning that even if she were deleted, she could eventually restore herself, given proper time."
"I don't understand; if you knew about this, why was 'The World' still released?"
"We didn't know about it at the time," he admitted. "Harold may have known, but I can't be certain."
Facing accusative stares from Dean and the lieutenant, Seijiro gave an exasperated sigh. "You don't understand; it's not like the company has been waiting for this to happen and trying to cover it up. We're doing what we can, but she's simply grown far more intelligent and powerful than we had anticipated; most of our staff didn't even know of her existence, and some still don't. And Harold was the one who based Fragment on the Epitaph of the Twilight; this all does seem to be following it word for word, but we're still not sure what it means."
"That puts us in the same boat," said Masamoto. "What will happen if this... Morganna... succeeds in destroying 'The World', or whatever her ambition may be?"
Tanaka turned his head away from both men; he swallowed, his face contorting in a brief grimace. "She may spread beyond it."
Masamoto glanced back at Dean and gave a small nod, and turned back as he reached into his jacket. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Tanaka," said the lieutenant, "we have no further questions for you."
Both turned to leave, but stopped in their tracks when Seijiro spoke again. "Are... you going to arrest me?" he asked, his voice sounding small and timid, accenting his vulnerable posture.
Masamoto drew a hand up and scratched at the edge of his hairline. "I wouldn't worry about that, sir... but I wouldn't leave town either, if I were you. We may yet need your cooperation again."
Seijiro nodded slowly. "Very well. Good day, Mr. Masamoto."
He froze, his face tensed, just briefly but long enough for Dean to catch notice. "Good day," he said quietly before turning away, a slight edge to his voice.
Stopping only to put on their shoes, Dean and Masamoto left together, the latter closing the door behind him, the chill of air conditioning being replaced by the uncomfortably sticky warmth of the air outside.
As they walked across the yard towards the parked Buick, Dean threw his companion a look. "You all right? What happened?"
"Did you get everything?" asked Masamoto abruptly.
Dean reached into his jacket, and removed a tape recorder from the inside pocket. "Soon as we stepped in. What'd he say?"
Pulling a ring of keys from his pocket, Masamoto circled around the front of the car. "He said my name."
"...and?" asked Dean after a beat.
The lieutenant stopped, turned towards Dean; his skin looked a shade paler than the American remembered it.
"I didn't."
-
(No messages... I'm in demand.)
Dean's sarcastic thoughts ceased as he leisurely strolled into the adjoining bedroom, his body going limp as he unceremoniously flopped down upon the cushioned surface.
From what Masamoto had translated, most of Dean's hunches had been correct; Morganna, a self-replicating artificial intelligence meant to govern 'The World', intended to grow beyond its meager constraints for purposes that couldn't possibly be benign. The men who created her were now in no position to stop her, and all their hopes apparently lay in a 14-year-old boy and a 'key' whose true function he didn't yet understand.
Dean wasn't ready to accept everything Seijiro had said as gospel; the 'gaijin' remark left the detective a little distrustful of the programmer's remarks, but his information fit too well to be completely made up. Nevertheless, he found himself fixated on the last words the lieutenant had spoken before they left Tanaka's place.
("He said my name"... are they watching us? Which one of us?)
He thought further. (It has to be Cyber Connect; if they remember me, then they've probably been following me. And all of us. Son of a bitch...)
Dean let out a satisfied groan as he stretched out on the bed, the mattress adhering to his back; he closed his eyes and folded his hands beneath his head, his thoughts fading to silence as his muscles relaxed.
-
From: Beartheworld.com
To: DStollismailserv.net
Subj: Urgent
I need to speak with you. In person, not over the internet. Meet me in front of my house.
- Ryo
-
(Well, this keeps getting better and better. Wonder what he wants this time.)
The Civic rolled gently down the street, shadows rolling off the dashboard as it passed streetlight after streetlight. Dean drummed his fingers against the wheel, the hard leather delightfully cool to the touch; the humidity of the night air was forgotten in the wake of the car's air conditioning.
More questions drifted through Dean's mind as he neared the Sakuma residence. (There's gotta be more to it than what Seijiro told us; maybe they knew what Morganna was capable of, maybe not, but I still don't see how it got entered into the system in the first place. Why consider using A.I. to administer 'The World' if it was still just a pipedream? And how could it evolve so fast if it wasn't 'true' A.I. in the first place?)
These questions and more fell by the wayside as he rounded the corner leading to Ryo's house, and a man in black stepped in the path of the vehicle, waving his arms wildly.
Dean was caught off his guard but had more than enough time to brake. The man shielded his eyes as the headlights stared him in the face, but a moment of thought was all Dean needed to recognize the man. With a puzzled frown, Dean beckoned to the man with his hand; a push of the lock button allowed him to open the door.
"Thanks," said Ryo as he climbed into the car. "Kill the lights and park. They're at my house."
"What? Who??"
"Just do it!" he urged. Dean followed the instructions, then turned in his seat and faced Ryo, covered almost head-to-toe in some sort of black cloth, from dark sneakers and trousers to a navy blue overshirt, buttoned shut. "Think it's the same guys who followed us at the shrine. Two of them in a white van."
"White van," muttered Dean. He flashed back to the Tanaka house; a similar vehicle had been parked opposite the lieutenant's car. (So they ARE following us...) "Who are they? Are they the same guys who you've seen before?"
"I don't know. All the guys I saw were in expensive cars, like company cars, usually black with tinted windows. Like they were more worried about being seen than being noticed." Ryo shook his head. "These guys just look like your average mooks."
"Where's your kid? Is she okay?"
Ryo nodded. "She's over at a friend's for the night."
Dean grit his teeth and sucked in a sharp breath of air. "All right," he said, taking the car out of park and letting it idle towards the curb, far enough away from the corner to appear inconspicuous. Parking it once more, he killed the engine and turned back to Ryo. "Cell phone's in the glove box. Call the cops, I'll go check it out."
"What are you going to do?" asked Ryo as Dean reached under the steering column and pushed the trunk release button.
"Beat some answers out of them with a tire iron," he answered flippantly, accenting the statement with a raising of both eyebrows.
Ryo's eyes almost popped out of his head. "WHAT?!"
Opening the door, Dean threw a look at Ryo. "Just call 'em. We can't let them get away, this corporate "1984" shit has gone too far."
"But I... ah..." Ryo spluttered; he ended in a groan of tenuous approval as he reached for the glove box.
Dean wasted no time in exiting the vehicle and snatching a long, heavy tool from his trunk; normally suited for changing tires, he deemed it a suitable interrogation tool for the task at hand and found himself with a growing desire to use it.
He smirked, gripping the iron with both hands and wielding it like a baseball bat. (Wonder if Big Brother'll see THIS coming...)
- End of Chapter 5