What is a daemon? The term is not unique to this twisted world, but it just means that a program that, upon activation, automatically does things on its own without an interruption of a user. Almost all quickhacks are basically daemons.
And building one is extremely fucking hard.
There is a reason why ICE doesn't activate a suicide quickhack upon the attacker, running that daemon actively and actually having resources for it to go through is next to impossible.
Most settle for a short circuit variant or a simple trace, since it does significant amount of damage despite the small payload. But even it needs to be always allocated RAM and processing power.
ICE of high caliber is only something akin to Adam Smasher could afford, since you need RAM and processing power to run things, then you need cooling, but that cooling needs to be protected, and that protection has to be mounted on a body, and a body has to be able to move around. Not even mentioning the risks of trying to upgrade to that level without going cyberpsycho. Working with your neural stem is one of the highest risks you can have with cyberware.
This issue has plagued me for weeks now, as I had no direction on how to approach making a proper ICE, that is fully reactive and somehow passive, activating only when needed. You could not be the smartest for long, and after a few months there will surely be a way to go around any kind of protection if you showcase it.
Triggers, handshakes, checks. Finding the perfect conditions was similar to trying to create a philosopher's stone. My testing variants had a strict fifty fifty chance to either not work at all, or unleash yet not existing hell of hacks on the innocent camera network of a local liquor store.
And sadly there is even more trouble reverse engineering existing ICE, the level of protection on the detection AI was absolutely insane and was akin to making a rock out of sand particles scattered across the beach. I learned it the hard way.
I grabbed my hair in frustration as another failed variant of the smart intrusion system misfired at my own query, mistaking me for an intruder, even if I specifically told it which access keys are mine and that it should not react.
"Damn it all..."
"Sucks to suck." Sasha replied to me.
It's been some time and Sasha had undergone an expensive surgery to replace her entire spinal column with a cybernetic variant, and even it required a person to be bedridden to fully heal.
"This sucky guy saved your life, one point five times mind you."
"Grateful for that, but maybe not the best way to put it. Sucky guy could mean so many things."
"What I meant to say is that my way might just work out."
"I'm not arguing about that, it's just that you really suck sometimes."
"Who are you to say that? I think I'm pretty cool. Check out the fit."
I stood up from the side of her hospital bed and posed a little, showing off my new clothes. I got myself a whole new fit, that was mostly in line with what old school mercs would wear in Night City. I could not go anywhere without getting a new jacket, and this one is tough as all hell.
Style is everything in Night City.
"Eh, looks decent but kinda old fashioned. Like a six out of ten."
"You don't get it, it's practical and comfortable."
"I know you have some muscle, you gotta show some skin."
"I'd rather not."
"But boxing twice a week is not going to take you that far. Beef up. Push some weights."
"You better see the guy that I'm sparring with, he is a weight himself. And Sasha, I don't see you working out."
Sasha quietly points all across the room, showing off the piss bag in particular. It just slowly filled up as we spoke. She had no control over that though, so valid.
"Another issue I have. Remember you mentioned the monowire?"
"Yeah, had it installed not long before the thing. What about it?"
"Why didn't you use it?"
She blinked a few times rapidly.
"I really did not train with it all that much. It was intended for later."
"Sure, I'm actually asking about if you can hack people by striking them with it. How does it work?"
"Kinky, are you?"
" It's a razor sharp wire, not a whip. Wait, people like it?"
"There are those who like that."
"Well, I suppose it falls under BDSM. We are getting off topic."
"Wouldn't know. Never tried it on anyone yet. You volunteer?"
Sasha menacingly pulled a few inches of the monowire out of her left hand. The wire shined as it was sharp even to look at.
"Whoa. Going too far."
"You are no fun."
"Yeah well... yeah."
And the silence fell, and I got back to tweaking the
"I'm boooored." Sasha leaned back and let the wire pull back into her palm.
I closed the interfaces.
"Doctor said you will be able to move more in just a few days. You can pull through."
"Why didn't you bring more snacks?"
"I'm running on a budget."
"Remove the budget, for me."
"Huh? Did I hear you right? Are you begging"
"No!" Sasha interrupted.
"You are! You are begging for food!" I point the pointer finger at her.
"No! Wrong! Food here is just too bland." Sasha raises her voice and crosses her arms.
"If that's so... At least help me out. I need something from you."
"I won't work for food. I'm not that poor. I'd rather just help you. What is it?"
"Okay, so I need you to reverse engineer this ICE I bought."
"You know what, sure. I'll give it a try."
"Really? I thought it would be harder. This seems like way too much work."
"Well, I'm out of the gigs for a while. And it seems like the least I could do."
"Your recovery should not take too long though? Sure, you cannot access the BBS from here but"
"I quit."
"What? Why?"
Sasha smiles painfully.
"They can't trust me anymore."
"Who said that?"
"I can just tell."
"Fucking hell... You went in, did your job, did some other thing and eventually delta out of there. Yes, there were complications. Yes, I fucking knew so, but it's success, isn't it?"
"It's different. I didn't follow the plan."
"It's uh. Okay."
Maybe it's for the better. Being a merc might pay a lot, but at least it's more of a chance that you stay alive. She is worth more as a netrunner than a merc.
"What are you going to do now?"
Sasha looks to the side and taps her finger on the hospital bed railing.
"I need some time to think about it."
"Your guys are nice people... I think. They visit you all the time, don't they?"
"They already got a new runner working with them, called Kiwi. Becca told me."
Well, at least this goes according to the original story I'm familiar with.
"Are you sure it's not temporary until you recover?"
"Gosh. I already quit, so it doesn't matter."
"Sorry for trying to introduce solutions."
"Well, be happy to be introduced to THIS!"
Suddenly her eyes flashed red and my system was hacked. Insane amount of junk data duplicated itself on my cyberdeck.
"No, no!"
"I said you can't win." she said smugly.
"I didn't save!"
Open projects I had open for all this time suddenly closed, as my entire system rebooted. How did she do it? Open transfer channel I left open? How did the file execute?
"Sucks to"
"Bitch. Actual insufferable bitch. I pranked you one time."
"Well, that's the result." Sasha said grabbing an empty bag of spherical snacks that were colored like titties with naked women on packaging and shaking it, looking for extra.
My system booted. Nothing I did the past hour saved. Fabulous.
I looked at the time in the corner of my eye. It's getting time I head back.
"Getting late. Imma head out."
Sasha looked at me, as she was shaking the last of the crumbs into her mouth.
"Was that too far? Sorry."
"No worries, it was leading to nothing anyway."
"Yeah I know."
"Fuck you."
I gather the trash from the snacks she has eaten to throw out somewhere. As I had the most crumpled up in my hand, I snatched the last bag from Sasha.
"Hey, it still had some!"
"I'll get you some more the next time."
"When?"
"Dunno."
"Tomorrow?"
I have a spar with Jackie in the morning, then work. Bunch of work. God. So much work.
"You know what? Sure."
"Preem."
I walked over and pressed the button on the console, calling the nurse to escort me outside.
"Just remember to take a crack at that ICE."
"Thanks for coming by."
Door opened and the Nurse was politely pointing me to go.
I left, following a nurse. And with a "Kobe" got the bundle of trash into a futuristic trashcan they had in the corridor. The nurse got confused but refused to even say a word, opting for a judgmental side eye.
Going outside I noticed that a high speed police chase was happening as the sounds of gunshots and a loud engine were heard to my right, and an armored car approached down the street at a wild speed.
For safety I hurriedly stepped back inside the lobby using the automatic door.
Waiting a few seconds, the car in question rammed a person on the opposite sidewalk, avoiding heavy traffic at a stoplight. People tried to scatter, but it's too late.
The sharp edge of the bumper cut the girl in two, leaving the lower half on the street, and flinging the top half into the road. It kept dragging a girl's guts across the pavement without stopping. It also grazed two other guys, sending them flying tens of feet forward. Then the car got back on the road, a person was leaning out the window and shooting at the cops with a machine gun by the sound.
Two police cars zoomed past it, covering the remains of the girl in tire tracks. Fuck all of this.
In front of the hospital, damn.
Onlookers began gawking.
Sadly, death is something that you see often. But this one will end up in some fucked up compilation.
I began walking to the nearby metro station.
It's been nine days since Sasha went for the operation. I've considered trying to convince her sister to let Vik do it, but I don't think that would work out.
I've fallen into a despicable routine, where day to day I'm staggered on a single problem on creation of my own ICE. Sure, I kept creating data walls for cash, but I wrote so many little scripts to speed up the process that Yoko even had assigned me a nickname on the marketplace, for brand recognition.
Sure, it was not my decision to sell data structures by the name "Verified nine two one," but who fucking cares.
The more stressful thing was finding out that Yoko did find that Biotechnica launched an official investigation on the perpetrators, but the division suddenly got massively defunded due to incompetence after the scandal reached the top. So it might take them a while, but they are active nonetheless.
Metro arrived, and it was packed. I paid the toll and crammed myself in with the rest of the people.
My spare income was hefty, as my income was nearing twelve hundred eddies a day. This might seem a lot, but the expenses to keep up with the quality were taking more than half.
I now possessed a few chips with old defence programs. Trim them down, make into four bricks, buy another one. And after all that they were still considered mid tier at best.
Even if Sasha didn't eat the chunks of my money with snacks, my own expenses did add up, including better food.
I bought a Militech mine and installed it in my hideout. It seemed like everybody had one and getting it was easy. But my shotgun shells mount was looking extremely unsafe for everybody. I covered it with a moldy carpet even.
Maybe I should spend a little more time hiding it better? Maybe some on the windows?
"Choom. Move!"
My train of thought was interrupted as a man entered on the next stop over. Skinny and looked like a junkie. He began pushing me as if there were more space in the cart.
"Can't do."
"Fuck. FUCK" he began to push more. Other people grumbled as they felt the pressure rise.
A woman yelled.
"Wait for the next one, gonk"
"Just a little"
From behind him a man easily hopped over the gates, landing with a thud near the door.
"Nuh uh."
Okay, clearly a seasoned merc. Big ass frame, long dreads. A gun on his hip.
Scanning his face revealed that he had a pending bounty for kidnapping.
Fucking hell.
The junkie who tried to get in turned around in horror.
"Fuck. move move move"
The junkie scratched and clawed at my hands and torso trying to squeeze in, and the alarm of the doors closing rang.
The pursuer just slowly stepped closer.
"Ya know man, it's getting really pathetic."
Then the man took a stance to jump again.
Yeah fuck it.
I pushed the junkie with a shoulder tackle and he stumbled on the concrete. And the door shut.
Last thing I saw was the man being stomped on and the NCPD rushing in from the side.
Other passengers loudly cursed, and I looked over myself.
Fucker had some bullshit nails. I even felt it despite the skin weave. No cuts, but my shirt was cut up a little. Fucking bastards everywhere.
"You okay man?" someone from behind my back said, presumably a younger guy. It's so crowded I can't even turn my head properly.
"Nova" I replied.
...
Getting back I do the usual, climbing the fire stairs to the top floor, disarm a mine, close the door behind me.
I hate this so much. Every day, so much bullshit.
A message pops up. Sasha?
"I'll need a proper netrunning chair for this. Or get yourself into one."
"You backed down?"
There was a pause before the next message.
"The increase in temp alerted the nurses."
"Got it. Rest up."
I slumped down on the shitty couch I hauled from the lower floors. I had to chase off homeless for this. And it's still shit. All of it is shit.
Back to work it is.
I took off my clothes, looking over my shirt. Fuck, the tears are bigger than I thought. Tough fabric my ass.
Throwing on older pieces I sat down, placing my Unity on the armrest.
Running back the programs I routinely logged into the BBS to check out the news.
My vision flashed and I stood before the usual message board full of offers and requests.
Filtering the majority of it, removing the BD stuff, that is, I got back into looking into the current state of affairs in the city.
More murders, more drugs, more Tech Orthodoxy is looking for a security specialist?
That's unexpected. At this point I thought they might use more secretive channels than a semi public bulletin board system.
I opened the request, it had the usual shopping list of required skills of both intrusion and defence of the NET spaces, but this time it listed optional participation in the group activities of the organization. With almost no details on what those activities might entail.
Pay was underwhelming. Six thousand a month. What is it, seventy two thousand eddies a year? Does seem low to work with a cult who despises modern technology. I pinned it purely out of interest if it will stay up.
Looking into ICE to buy next, I found a bundle of two for sale, but the conditions of sale were only going to a designated dead drop only to collect a chip.
I forwarded the listing to Yoko.
"Seller any good?"
"So so."
"Thx."
Well, I'd rather do it all on the NET.
Other listings were rather expensive, reaching in the tens of thousands for a version of ICE that is not stolen from corps and cockblocked from most of its offensive subprocesses.
Then I got back to bashing my head against smart detection systems of my own. I feel like I'm almost there, I just need to keep gambling with the values, there is a sweet spot, I can feel it.
Suddenly a wave of lethargy hit me, even though I was sitting down. I forgot to eat my dinner.
I stood up, gave a quick look to my space, that was a collection of piles and walked to the food pile, which were energy bars made from bugs. Vik surely gave away a big way to get protein.
I grabbed a few and unwrapped them, ignoring their look, I chewed one by one as I continued with the testing.
Soon enough, hours passed and it reached two am, the time I go to sleep.
Closed the door, rearmed the mine. Turned off the sole lightbulb.
Taking the old tarp, I placed it on the small couch, and lay down with my head on the flimsy armrest.
There is just a small hope in me that those dreams will come again.
Lately those have been happening more and more. And truthfully, I do enjoy the feeling of not being myself.