Dirk Manning looked at the jury-rig his captain had made to the main engine of the SS Grizzly.  Hefty gunmetal plating was wrapped around it, and heavily welded and riveted in place.  Dirk Manning stepped forward and gave the refitted engine an experimental rap with his knuckle.  There was a dull dong sound.  Dirk nodded.  "Solid enough to resist shaking but light enough for percussive maintenance."

"Percussive maintenance was the whole reason we had to make this refit, Dirk," Nathan Justice told him.

"Seriously," Sil al'Nasen, the pilot, said.  "Dirk, if you whacked the hell out of the engine less often, we'd have to shell out all this money to fix the blasted thing less often."

Dirk drew himself up and adjusted his belt, looking as if insulted.  His southern drawl took on an almost Rhet Butler-esque tone.  "Whacking the hell out of the engine is a cleansing experience for me.  It's cathartic.  Let's me work out my frustrations."

"Next time you whack the hell out of the engine," Justice said without humor, "I'll get cathartic on your ass."

Sil wiped off her own multitool and clipped it on her utility belt.  "I'll go run a systems check on our computers.  C'mon, Sentry."  She headed out, her Irish wolfhound following obediently.

Dirk looked at Justice.  "I'll stay here and double-check on the engine room's internal systems and make sure the software meshes with the new hardware."

Justice nodded.  "You do that.  I'll go off and check my sources for anything new."  He left the engine room, then stopped and shouted back, "And no cartharsis while I'm gone!"

There was a muffled curse from the engine room.

"I prefer Nat, Hy."

Hyena laughed, sounding not unlike her namesake -- very reasonable, considering she also looked very much like her namesake.  "Ah yes, silly me, I forgot."

"Sloppy," Justice replied, "considering."

"Yes," Hyena replied.  Despite the fact that her namesake species looked more canine than feline, she often corrected the misinterpretation.  She took another swig of her Pop, which Justice looked at with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought you took the 'cohol risk, Hy."

"Yeah, but when you spend a week in the hospital because you drank too much," Hyena said, "you tend to change your habits.  What about you?  Still scarring your liver beyond all recognition?"  A waiter came by and handed him a bottle of generic 'cohol.  She grinned.  "That answers that."

"So, Hy," Justice said after swallowing a mouthful of beer, "what's the word?  Anything new on the hacking front?"

"Nothing," she answered.  "The Underground's laying low while Senator Brosky's on the warpath."  She made a face.  "So there's not much to say, except some pretty nasty things about Hacker Enemy Number One."

Justice nodded, swigged his beer.  "How about this Chaotis character?"

Hyena frowned.  "I started looking into him since you called me two months ago.  Before doing that Vector job, Chaotis was mostly small-time -- you know, hacking small servers and causing general pandemonium.  I think he's trying to go public, big-time, but he's lying low since the Vector thing didn't work out.  Nobody I've talked to knows who he is, let alone where he is."

"So this 'Hacker Anarch' is a neophyte?"

"Hardly," Hyena said.  "From the scraps we got from your pal Cowboy, Chaotis' code was elite.  He's got the skillz.  He's a pro."

Justice mulled over that, drinking his beer, then glanced up as he heard a distant rumble outside.  "What was that?  An explosion?"

"In Dekka-Nor?" Hyena countered.  "Hardly.  We don't get much terrorist activity.  No, that was just thunder."  She looked out the window with a frown.

Justice sat back.  "Just the weather, then."

Hyena stood up, staring out the window.  "I don't think it's 'just the weather,' Nat.  Because a t-storm wasn't in the forecast."  Justice looked at her, then out the window.  He blinked, then stood up beside her.  They watched as the system's sky flashed with lightning and water cascaded down the window in sheets.  Slowly, the other patrons in the bar noticed as well, and there was a quiet noise as they all stood up as well to stare at the anomalous weather.

"What the FAQ?" a sprite said.

"It's called rain, genius," Hyena remarked.

"No shit, kita," a foul-tempered F'Val said.  "We know what rain is."

"Rain?" someone else said.  "That wasn't in today's forecast."

"It's not in any day's forecast, bonehead," Hyena added.

Justice ignored the verbal sparring as his comm rang.  He answered it.  "Yo, holler at me."

"Nat?" Sil's voice said, "I think you'd better come back to the Grizz."

"I got a bit of a weather problem here, Sil," Justice replied.

"I know.  But I think you'll want to take this call."

"Why?"

"Because it's Lieutenant Burke."

Justice blinked exactly once, then said, "Tell him I'll call as soon as I get back."  He hung up and turned to Hyena.  "Duty calls, Hy.  Holler at me later."

"I'll come find you," she said in the traditional reply to their parting words.  She looked at the pouring rain.  "I'll wait here for the storm to stop.  I hate water."  She wrinkled her nose.  "Especially wet water."

A man seated himself at the table, followed by a shorter man and a F'Val woman.  A glittering cloud of energy about the size of an apple hovered over the first man's shoulder, a gunmetal mech hovered over the second's, and a large Irish wolfhound sat next to the F'Val.  Burke recognized the first man immediately, and started to say hello when he was cut off.

"Nathan Justice," the man said.  "I saved your ass from the Claw."  He indicated his colleagues.  "This is Dirk and DT-Three--"

"Hi."  "Greetings."

"--Sil and Sentry--"

"Hello."  Whuf!

"--and this here is the Bit.  Say hi, Bit."

"YeS!"

"Believe me, Mr. Justice," Burke said with his faint British accent, "I know who you all are."  He nodded to the others.  "Mr. Manning, Ms. al'Nasen. ...Sentry."  He made as if to pet the big hound's head, but those big impressive teeth snapped, so he thought better of it.

"Call me Dirk," the mechanic said.

"And Sil, please," the pilot added.

"What's the word, Burke?" Justice asked.  "Why'd you want to see us so fast?"

Burke sighed.  "You've seen the weather in Dekka-Nor, I gather."

"Yeah."

"Well, being the Guardian Special Liaison to Metaverse Administration," Burke explained, "I'm in charge of investigating why there's a problem.  I'm given total discretion in conducting my investigation, but I doubt some of my superiors would like the fact that I'm employing some disreputable mercenaries."

"Disreputable?" Dirk said.

"There is that little incident involving a senator."

"Oh," Dirk said with a grin, "that."

"So, mind the fact that everything I tell you about Administration is guarded by a nondisclosure agreement."

"No prob, Leftenant," Dirk grinned, "we can keep a secret."

"All right," Burke sighed.  "About ten days ago we first began having problems with the weather generators," Burke said.  "When I started looking into the problem, I found that someone was tampering with the Prospero Protocols."

"The what?" Dirk asked.

"The Prospero Protocols," Burke explained, "regulate the weather generators.  They determine the frequency of the weather patterns.  They're named after a wizard who controls the weather from one of Shakespeare's plays."

"So if someone tampers with these protocols," Sil asked, "what would happen?"

"Well, the Prosperos have a random factor in them, so periodically the system gets a bit out of whack, which our programmers fix.  We're working on a way to put a patch on the protocols so we won't have to fix that problem.  Right now, however, we monitor things very carefully."

"How difficult is it to tamper with them?" Justice asked.

"Very," Burke replied.  "Our dBases have the highest authorization.  You can't hack in at all.  You need somebody on the inside."

"So," Justice said, "why'd you come to us?  Sounds like your problem."

"Well, I found the insider.  His name was Dr. Cyrus Koracks, but he died in a hovercar accident two days ago before I could arrest him.  But I think he had somebody outside working for him.  That's why I came to you, because I found this."  He tapped a button on his datapad and passed it across the table.

The screen showed a mutated sea monster, a computer-generated face. "`Ban, `Ban, Ca-Caliban!" it rasped/sang.  A disgusting smile creased its features.  "Unless twenty million credits are paid to the following numbered account in the next seven days, I will destroy five major systems in the Metaverse."  The message ended.

Sil looked up.  "Is that--?"

"The bug responsible for the problem. It calls itself Caliban.  Presumably, it was written by Dr. Koracks--"

"It wasn't," Justice said abruptly.

Burke blinked.  "I beg pardon?"

"I know for certain that someone besides Dr. Koracks had a hand in Caliban."

Justice played back Caliban's message, then froze it, pointing out the background behind the face.  A computer-generated swirl of red and black.  "I recognize that."  He showed it to Dirk and Sil. "You guys?"

Dirk thought for a moment, then looked into space, saying in a high-pitched voice, "'I am Chaotis, Hacker Anarch.'"

Justice nodded.  "Exactly.  Whoever Chaotis is, he had a hand in writing Caliban.  Furthermore, he got to Koracks and coopted him into inserting it into the Prospero Protocols.  Then, once he was done, Chaotis just arranged to have Koracks eliminated as a link to him."

"Or Koracks is Chaotis and just faked his death to throw the Guardians off," Sil said.

"Whichever," Justice looked at Burke.  "I need to scope this accident that killed Koracks.  Do you have a holotape of that sort of thing?"

The Guardian nodded.  "The police would have that from our traffic cameras.  I'll take you there."

"It will," Justice said.  Burke nodded to the captain and had the information uploaded into his datapad.  He followed Justice to a Guardian hovercar and drove him out toward civilian distrcit 15B.

"Our first witness is one Michel DeBaker," Burke said.  Justice nodded then looked at the emergency band as the radio squawked.  The Guardian tapped it on.

"Fire reported, 500 block of civ-district 15B.  Fire trucks delayed in traffic."

Burke blinked.  "500 bock?  That's where DeBaker lives!"  He stomped on the accelerator.

"Sounds like Chaotis is covering his tracks," Justice remarked.

Burke glanced at him.  "I don't remember you being this cynical."

"It's been close to twelve-fourteen years since then, Burke," Justice said.  "That much time changes a man."

"But why'd you change your name?" When he didn't get an answer, Burke looked at Justice to be greeted by a cold stare from those glittering obsidian eyes.  Burke grimaced.  "Right -- I forgot."

"And I'll thank you to keep it that way."

"For God's sake, someone help!!!" someone screamed back.  A scorched human with gold-brown hair staggered out the door.  He saw Justice and ran toward him.  "Help me!" he screamed.  "Help m-->urk!<"  DeBaker fell onto his face, a wicked laser burn sizzling on his back.

Justice immediately ducked low and drew his pistol.  "Burke, there's someone shooting lasers!"

"Got it!" Burke called, checking his keytool.  "Cron, scanner."

Justice slowly circled around the house, looking around and inside cautiously, staying low and keeping his pistol ready.  He heard a small whining sound, then whipped aside as a thick laser punched a hole through the corner of the house.  Justice fired through it, but hit nothing.

Distantly, Burke fired Cron at something, but there was no sound of impact.  Justice peered around the corner and spotted the person who had to be the assassin.  Big, was the first thought that crossed Justice's mind.  Huge, massive, quickly followed.  The assassin was a cyborg, near eight feet tall, wearing cobalt-blue metal armor on his chest.  His hands were made of some chrome-like metal, with gauntlets of the same material covering his forearms.  He wore boots of the same material on his feet, which came up to his knees.  The cyborg had thick ropes of oily black hair which stopped an inch or two from his broad and massive shoulders.  Then, as he looked toward Justice's position, the mercenary could see a chrome-like mask covering the rest of the head and neck.  It had no human-like mouth, just a skeletal grimace.  The left eye socket was filled with a golden optical implant and a tinted transparisteel lens covered the right one.  The implant glowed as the cyborg saw Justice, then it swung around to target him.  A hand was raised, and a circular port opened in the palm.  Another thick laser fired toward Justice.

He ducked and ran, another hole being punched through the house behind him.  Burke's keytool fired again, and when Justice looked back, he saw the bolt of energy dissipate millimeters from the cyborg's musclular chest.  The cyborg raised his other hand.  As the circular port there opened, a tear started to blossom.

Sprinting, Justice tackled Burke and pinned him to the ground. The cyborg fired the tear, which detonated inside the house, reducing it to rubble.  Splinters and pieces of DeBaker's house rained down on them.  Justice looked up, and the cyborg was nowhere to be seen.

"What the Hell was that?" Justice inquired.

"Chrome," Burke grunted.  "If you'll get off me, I'll tell you more."

"You don't know who he is?" Justice asked, incredulous.  "How can you guys not find a guy his size?  Height like that can't be common."

Burke shrugged.  "I'm not sure, I'm just going by the reports I've read about him.  He arrived here in the Supercomputer about ten days ago, just before the Caliban Bug was first found.  Chrome hid out somewhere here, but we don't know where."

"You lost track of a guy his size?" Justice said.  He looked disgusted.

Burke shrugged again. "Near as I've been able to figure out from the reports on him, before Chrome became Chrome, he was very badly burned in a fire.  He had those implants and cybernetics put on to compensate.  He's definitely more machine than whatever he used to be."

"Then he probably has a scan-block somewhere on him," Dirk said.

"Whatever the case, Chrome hires himself out as a paid thug."  Burke sat back and folded his arms.  "Evidently he's been hired by Chaotis.  Now I'm convinced that Dr. Koracks was killed to keep him quiet.  Probably by Chrome, and now he's just tying up the loose ends."

"What about Caliban?" Sil said.  "We need to remove it from the Prospero Protocols.  How would we do that?"

Burke frowned.  "Well, you'd get the person who uploaded Caliban in the first place to remove it, but unfortunately, Dr. Koracks is beyond our reach.  The next logical step is to bring in a skilled programmer to help out."

"Like a hacker?" Dirk asked.

Burke shook his head.  "I've already got enough heat from my superiors as it is, hiring you.  If I bring a hacker to Administration, they'll have my hide."

"I don't think you have a choice, Burke," Justice said.  "From my information on Chaotis, he's going to up the ante a bit.  He wants to go public, so you have to bring someone in."

Burke sighed.  "All right.  I'll go start sweet-talking the Administrator.  You go find me a trustworthy hacker."

"S'all right, Hy," Justice said.  "I understand.  `Sides, you've done enough for me in the past."  He paused.  "You wouldn't know where Cowboy is, would you?"

"Cal West?  He was in the Server, last I heard.  Want me to find him?"

"Nah, it's all right, Hy," he said.  "I can find him well enough."

"Really?" the Khatran said, amused. "How, pray tell?"

"I'll just call up the cheapest apartment building there and ask for him.  Holler at me later."

"I'll find you.  Stay sparky, frosty," she laughed in a parody of the quote attributed to the Hero AndrAIa.  She hung up.

Justice called up directory assistance at the Server System and found the numbers of several cheap places to stay.  The first two places hadn't heard of Cowboy, but, as always, the third time's the charm.

"West?" the scummy slumlord said.  "Young guy, 'bout yay big, wearing a bunch of Texan shit?"

"Yeah, him," Justice confirmed.

"Yeh, Room 212.  I'll patch ya through."

A few moments later, a sleepy-looking young man with dark hair and a dark Stetson cowboy hat appeared on the screen.  He rubbed his eyes as he mumbled.  "If this isn't an insanely beautiful woman, I'm hanging up--"

"Cowboy."

The young hacker blinked and looked at his screen.  "Mr. Justice?"

"That's the name."

"What do you want?"  Cowboy asked.  "It's the ungodly hour of--" he glanced at a clock, "--1315?"

"Got a job for you.  Get on the next trans to S-Comp."

Cowboy's eyes widened.  "The Supercomputer?  Are you crazy?!  Senator Brosky is still after my hide and you want me to go to Guardian Central?!"

"You remember Burke?"  Justice asked.  Seeing a blank look, he clarified, "The Guardian I saved from the Crimson Claw?"

"Yeah..."

"He's the guy I'm working for.  You're clear."

The hacker thought for a moment.  "All right," he said.  Then he paused and hesitantly asked, "Can you spot me enough money to cover the trip?"

"I ran into Guardians," the massive cyborg replied in his grating voice.  His voice, like Chaotis', was synthesized, but in his case it was because his voice box had been burned, not for disguise.  "They know about Koracks.  I was able to kill DeBaker and the other witnesses."

"Excellent!" Chaotis turned in his chair.  As he almost always did, he was wearing a red-and-black silk mask, done to look like a grinning harlequinn.  The rest of his outfit was the same, alternating black and red.

"There's more," Chrome went on.  "There was somebody with one of the Guardians."  He turned and looked at Chaotis' computer screen.  Accessing his neural computer feed, he uploaded a still from the firefight.  A man with fierce black eyes and a scraggly brown beard was aiming a pistol.

Chaotis studied him.  "Ah," the Hacker Anarch said, "I know him.  Nathan Justice."  He turned back to the cyborg.  "Next time you see him, don't hesitate to kill him."

With a surprised shout, he wiped his eye, but felt only cool dampness.  When he checked his fingers, they only had water on them.  As he stared, uncomprehending, at it, another drop fell in his palm, followed soon by another, and another.  Soon rain -- for that was the only thing it could be -- was pouring over the system.

Cowboy looked back up at the dark sky with a mixture of fear and wonder.  Something deep within him told him this was connected to the job Justice had called him for.

What am I getting myself into?