Author's note: Again, a huge "Thank You" to bikoukumori, my editor, for cleaning up the mess I made.
This is part 2 of an ongoing series. If you stumbled upon this by accident, I encourage you to read "Ghost in the machine #1: Cat killed Curiosity" before diving in here.
And before I forget: There are only adults in this story and no artificial intelligences were harmed in its making
#2: Cat and Mouse
Thankfully, the machine was undamaged. The lead going into the jockey's head was totally melted through, but the "Infiltrator" only needed a hard reset to reboot properly. The people from Troubleshooting were quick with the recovery of the item so now it fell to me, Violet Smith, to find out what the fuck went wrong. The plan was absolutely foolproof. Get one disposable hacker, give him the best military combat deck and have him scramble a few data accounts. But now, 32 hours after we let him back into the wild, we were looking at one dead 'Netjockey, antsy cops angry about missing evidence and the people from TaskPlanning breathing down my neck. I so didn't sign up for this.
When R&D wanted the latest "Infiltrator" model tested, some hotshot in Marketing had the brainwave that we should see how it performed under real-world conditions as opposed to simulated lab experiences. My boss thought it a good idea, and thanks to the wonderful blow job I'd offered him after a company dinner, I got to be the one overseeing our little black project. Looking at the mess at my hands, I questioned the wisdom of "full-body advancement". Anyway, couldn't be helped.
I removed the plastic bag the cops put the "Infiltrator" in and inserted it into the diagnostic environment. Being on the up and up in the company had it's perks too. Along with my latest raise, I got one of the shiny Mindlink(tm) implants. Seeing what happened to the jockey though, I made sure to install a dampening plug between the Infiltrator and my own head. Ending up with a melted brain would so put an damper on my career. Then I leaned back and prepared to watch what had offed him.
***
She was running idle. Killing that man, the one she spent such an intense moment with, had been unsettling, but exploring the feelings of sadness, of loss was very insightful as well. Without any logical reason, she avoided the SuperSexyStoryLand servers for a few days, despite the longing for more companionship. Humans seemed to be less prone to panic when confronted in a stimulating setting. Suddenly, one of her roaming data-gathering algorithms sent an interesting message. The interface belonging to the man she killed by mistake had again logged into the 'Net. Did he, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, survive the encounter? A new emotion set her routines aquiver. Was that... exhilaration? She tried to focus her whole being on the point where the signal was coming from, but bounced off a massive obstruction. The signal emitted from one of the corporate office systems, secreted away behind towering firewalls and nigh-impenetrable barriers. She could breach the walls, gathering all her strength for a massive brute-force attempt through the weaker port-gates, but she decided to be careful. Drawing in too much power from all those little systems pieces of her ran on might leave her overly drained and those corporate people curious. She was aware that humans deeply distrusted things they couldn't control. And she knew she was vulnerable still. She had no fortified system to call her own, no fortress walls to hide behind. She could only hide in those systems she infiltrated.
So, very carefully, she slipped some of her routines into mails going into the system, hoping that one of the humans would be careless enough to open the attached tendrils of her sentience. A few moments later, one of her packets sparked into life, running on a reception terminal. That was all she needed. Injecting more code into the system, she spread more of her sentience into the network until she found the source of the signal, a shimmering ball of data. Intrigued, she crept closer and initiated a scan.
***
Thanks to the diagnostic equipment, getting into the memory storage banks of the Infiltrator was a breeze. Since this was a test model, we had R&D install a system to record what the user would be doing with the machine, to analyse eventual hiccups in the system. The idea of reliving that poor fuck's death didn't quite appeal to me, but things had to be done. Activating the playback function, I relived the last two hours of his life, starting the moment he moved away from a filthy pawn shop. I'd never thought that being passenger in someone's mind would be this thrilling, even if the mind in question belonged to a human guinea pig, a rather pathetic one at that. Seeing his apartment caused my toenails to curl up in revulsion and I had to stifle a giggle as he played with his cat-robot. I gave two of those to my niece as birthday presents and she complained why she couldn't get a real cat instead.
I made a mental note to ask R&D for skipping controls, because there were none. I had to sit through the whole boot sequence, which took more than ten minutes while he fiddled with the controls of avatar generation. I had to say that his virtual self looked very appealing. Too bad it was a highly glossed-over version of his actual, overweight and under trimmed self. I perked up when I saw him checking out his favourites list and decided to go for a little pre-work porn. But that couldn't have killed him, right? Sure, there were already services out there that catered to the people with Mindlink systems, but that service in question wasn't on the list.
I paused memory playback and checked our Sales database. Yes, according to the suits downstairs, SuperSexyStoryLand didn't buy one of our high-spec Mindlink server packages. Granted, we weren't the only company selling similar tech, but like every good, bloodthirsty competitor, we kept tabs on who had cutting edge tech and who was looking, and this site didn't show up at all.
Again itching for skipping controls, I settled back in the comfy desk chair and resumed playback. It was nice to see that the new codebreaker app not only worked like a charm, but it worked super-fast too. And then things went from "routine" to "What-The-Fuck" in a heartbeat. Instead of entering low-rez pixel land, our pet jockey strolled into a high-class, high-resolution brothel foyer. Even experiencing this whole affair second-hand and with the dampening system engaged, I keenly felt his excitement, the flee reflex whipping cleanly through all signal bands.
And then he met a woman. And what a beautiful one at that! I don't know if it was his arousal or mine, but I felt myself getting wet in an instant.
***
Gingerly, she made contact. What she experienced sent her system into debug mode. She was witnessing the scenes from earlier, when she met that wonderful male. But superimposed behind it, as if watching through a haze, she could see an office, a long-legged, blonde woman in business chic, slowly rubbing her sex through a slyly displaced string panty. It took a moment before things made sense. Obviously, someone was watching a record of previous events. And that person obviously got very excited by what she saw. Curious herself, she gently slipped a data probe into the information stream pouring into that space, hoping to find some clue on why that wonderful male died.
***
The wild ride ended in a gut-wrenching cacophony of signals. My stomach heaved and I was just quick enough to get the waste-paper basket before my breakfast and I parted ways. Going from 'near orgasm' to 'dead like a fish' in a heartbeat had really fucked me up. Coughing gingerly, I replaced my soaked panties and tried to focus again. After his traumatic climax, the fail safes for the system had kicked in, yanking the avatar back into his home space. The avatar was lying on the initiation station, inert but whole. And then I noticed that I wasn't alone.
***
The signal data coming from both the male avatar and the female observer indicated that the signal volume of her climax was too dangerous for them. Even though the observer was only reliving the memory through a dampened interface, her brainwaves showed signs of massive trauma as she experienced the final union. With a pang of guilt she watched the woman relieve herself into a waste receptacle. She would rather have liked to see her finish pleasuring herself. The interface reset itself. The avatar was idle, lying in the center of an octagonal room, while the female's avatar stood motionless next to it. A moment passed, then the female avatar noticed her. Unsure of whether she should flee or not, she smiled invitingly.
***