Fiction - Sergey Lukyanenko. Labyrinth of reflections. Continuation.

 Labyrinth of reflections.            
            
 (Continued, started in PLUTONIUM #1O)   
   
   
 The Al-Kabar quarter is small. In virtual
it takes up no more than a square
kilometer This, however, does not mean anything.
Some companies - the same "Microsoft", for example -
example - provide employees with
bots are entire palaces. Cheap and effective. Other
Some people make do with such standard rooms.
carcasses, you’re amazed - why here
Is it virtual at all?                     
 Al-Kabar is clearly one of them. I
I look into one of the windows of the low stone
building that we pass by.   
 The equipment... is too unfamiliar to
it was possible to identify him. Several people
at the tables. One has a test tube in his hands. Ha,
chemical experiments in virtual space
ve! Something new. Makes sense only if
work is being done on very toxic substances
you... or with bacterial media.
Let's take note.                       
 -Where are you taking me? - I'm interestedat
security guard. The bald head doesn't turn around, but
answers:                                 
 - To the director of the corporation.                
 He doesn’t give a name, but even without that he says
a lot is involved. "Al-Kabar" transnational
corporation specializing in production
production of medicines, telephone communications, it seems
xia - still at oil production... Despite
the whole Arabic entourage is controlled by her
from Switzerland. Its director, Friedrich Urman -
personality is too significant to be bothered
communicate with every visitor.              
 A warm meeting is being prepared.                
 We stop at a small, entwined
grapes of a wooden gazebo, behind me
They push me and I go in. The guards remain-
is beyond the threshold.                            
 The room inside is much larger than outside.
live A huge pavilion, in the center there is a swimming pool,
where sleepy, shiny ones swim slowly
fish. Nearby there is a table with two chairs. Very
many colors, I'm even starting to feel
smells.                                   
 And no one.                                
 Well... let's wait. I sit down in a chair.      
 A slight cloudiness before the eyes... as follows -
was to be expected. Now they're probing my channel
communications. They're trying to figure out where I came from.
went, the amount of information that I can accept
mother and transmit in a second, present-
programs I have...                  
 Come on, get to work. Sixrented
"at a time" of routers through which it runs
signal. And all are quite resistant to hacking.
And in the end there is a paid Internet gate in
Austria, through which I entered the world
tuality.                               
 Traces will remain, but will not lead anywhere.  
 You can disconnect at any time,
"throw" me out of the neighborhood. Just now
it will give them... all the little things - programs that
are with me, they will work immediately.
There will be little left to explore. And I told them
very interesting, no doubt...          
 “The first router has been tracked,” reports
"Windows Home".                           
 Fast. I shake my head - and at this moment
the chair opposite is no longer empty.    
 Mr. Friedrich Urmann neglects
Arabic flavor. He's wearing shorts and colorful
shirt. Elderly, lean, serious.   
 “Good afternoon... diver,” he says.
In Russian. The voice is unnatural, missed
translated through a translator program.           
 This is the reason for such a high honor.       
 - I'm afraid you're mistaken, Mr. Di-
rector.                                   
 - When we created the bridge six months ago,
it served only one purpose, sir
diver. Detect you. A man finding
being in virtuality, would not be able to transform it
overcome,” Urman smiles sparingly. - I'm per-
This is the first time I have seen a real diver.One-zero... not in my favor.            
 - And this is the first time I’ve seen a real multi-
millionaire.                               
 - You see, our meeting has already brought
first fruits.                             
 Windows Home whispers:                   
 - The second router was tracked.                
 Urman frowns - it looks like something bothers him too -
communicate. Then he asks:               
 - Excuse me, how many computers are you on?
passed on the way here?                      
 - Unfortunately, I don’t remember.               
 Urman shrugs.                  
 - What can I call you?               
 - Ivan Tsarevich.                          
 A second pause - then a smile. Him
explained.                                
 - Oh, Russian fairy-tale hero! And you yourself -
Russian?                                  
 - Does it matter?              
 - Yes, you are absolutely right... Mister
diver, as I understand it, you penetrated our
the area is illegal...                      
 - Really? - I am amazed. - Honestly speaking,
I was just looking for a job. I read your announcement
lenition, walked across the bridge... obeyed this
strange guards.                  
 One-one.                               
 Friedrich Urmann throws up his hands.       
 - Yes... indeed! But we don't have
claims against you, Mr. Diver.
Isn't it strange things that youwear
with you...                                
 Slowly, defiantly, I pull everything out
from pockets. Comb, handkerchief, ma-
small mirror.                        
 - Here. Shall I give you the sword?                   
 Urman waves his hands:                      
 - Lord, why? We're not going to
start fights, right? Let's wait a while
stealing...                                  
 - The third router was tracked.                
 - What a pity that there is no time left for conversation -
I feel less and less, I sigh.        
 - Yes, but there is always not enough time. So,
Mister Diver, I have a reason
believe that some people would like
get a number of our developments. And even
managed to hire a diver... to reap
other people's fruits.                              
 “Apples,” I clarify.                  
 - Yes, exactly. We have a good Russian working
Chinese programmer, he made a beautiful form
for storing information... - Urman claps
clap your hands, and next to us the air begins
become cloudy, thicken. A moment - and a ma-
a lazy tree covered with fruits. -By-
I believe that the greatest interest is caused by
then, a small green apple on the bottom
branch.                                    
 I look at the desired fruit. He's small
immature and wormy.                      
 - What do you think, diver, how much could
wouldpay our competitors for this file?
 - Ten thousand, - I inflate the price somewhat.
 Urman looks at me in bewilderment. Specify
yay:                                     
 - Ten thousand dollars?                 
 - Yes.                                    
 - Honestly speaking, even a hundred thousand would be
low reward... Okay. Let's say I
I offer it to the person who tried to steal
file, one hundred fifty thousand. Provided
that he will begin to cooperate with us... for
normal, good pay.                
 - What is this, a cure for cancer? - I ask
I.                                        
 Urman shakes his head:                    
 - No. Then it would have no price. This
only a remedy for colds, but very, very
effective. We're getting ready to start it
production, but only after
stocks of less effective ones are sold out
medicines. So what can you say about my pre-
lying down?                                  
 “I’m afraid to upset you,” trying not to think
mother about the proposed amount, I say. - But
The diving code expressly prohibits such
agreements.                           
 “Okay,” Urman gets up. - I expected...
good answer. And I appreciate your position.      
 He approaches the tree, with some effort
Liem picks an apple. At the same time, his lips are
is commanded - he clearly pronounces the password.      
 - Take it.Apple in my palms. Heavy - mega
there will be two bytes. Trying to copy it
It's useless, you have to take it with you. I stick it in
Loko in my bosom, that is, I fasten the file to
your virtual shell. I'm looking at
Urmana.                                   
 “I’m going all-in,” he says seriously.
Urman. - I’m sacrificing a very promising development
work. You can give it to Mr. Shel-
Lerbach, and say hello from me
personally. I ask only one thing - after this
come to us and talk about permanent
cooperation. I won't hide it, exactly
Now we really, really need the services of give-
faith.                                     
 - The fourth router is tracked... tracked
fifth router... alarm! Anxiety! Anxiety!
 “Okay,” I get up too. Everything is very neo-
expectedly... never imagined for
serious businessmen of such broad
Comrade - I promise I will come. And now,
sorry...                               
 - No, Mister Diver, forgive me now -
those me. You will calmly leave our territory
rhetoric, but only after there is
your real address has been established. For the purpose
guarantees of the promise just made.     
 The lattice walls of the pavilion are darkening,
but a thick cloth was thrown over them. I do
step - it comes with difficulty. The communication channel is not
they cut off and slow down. Urman begins
movejerkily, everything is swimming in the eyes,
the apple in his bosom bends to the floor, voice
Windows Home stalls and loses intonation:
 - Anxiety... tr... in... ha...          
 That's how it is. Good players - multimil-
Lioners.                                  
 More precisely, their servants - including me
are going to include.                     
 - Vika, drop the details! - I whisper,
continuing to reach for the table. If only
the program understood, if only it obeyed
no clarification...                          
 The pavilion is changing. Openwork disappears from the walls
new ornament pattern, flowers lose their buds and
some small leaves, texture becomes rougher
Urman's shirts.                           
 But I can reach for my toys
table, and grab a handkerchief. These are useful things
personal hygiene items.                  
 The wave of the handkerchief is slow, as if under water
blow, and the sparkling plane of light thins out
the sleeping little world of the pavilion begins to sound. Alone
This program is called “sticky”, others call it
"road". Both definitions are correct. Program
MKA is looking for other people's communication channels, and begins
use for my purposes.                
 Very, very new, rare, and almost without-
failure program.                       
 Part of the wall collapses, revealing an exit to
street. Obviously I used the channel
Friedrich's own connections. I grab the mirror and
comb, run.Jagged things begin to emerge from the wall.
sharp spears. Watchdog program "Al-
Kabara". I jump - in a desperate attempt
jump between the spears.                 
 Depth, depth, I'm not yours...            
 The helmet's air conditioning blows ice on your face
air. Slowly creeping on the screens
bar - percentage of information downloaded,
and under it a predatory contracting hole -
narrowing communication channel. Here's how it really is
in reality looks like the beauty of the most intense
virtual fights. Stripes, letters,
numbers. Fight of programs, modems, bytes
information.                               
 Don't want. Disgusting and sad.            
 - Dip! - I commanded.                  
 My head hurts, but I don’t care! I
I fly between the spears and fall to the floor.
A sparkling ribbon snakes down the street, falling
everything is on its way. Buildings are crumbling,
The wall shatters with a roar. Rewind tape
The ravine groans. Forward...                   
 The old guards rush out to meet you.
Both have swords, but I have already pulled out the blade.
Whose virus will be smarter and faster?      
 My.                                     
 This is a gift from Maniac, my friend
computer virus specialist. Gift
murderous - the air under the blow of the blade
flares up and hits with a dragon burp
by the guards. They burn out instantly. Prev-
turn blackcharred skeletons.      
 Maniac loves beautiful effects. Now
The guards' computers are up to their necks full of non-
probably important work - calculation
pi numbers accurate to one million digits
after the comma. They don't even have any re-
resources to take operators out of the virus
tuality. Great, they'll lie in the depths,
and won't join other cars...         
 - Unethical... - Windows whispers mournfully
Home".                                    
 I'm running along the tape. Excellent communication channel
in a couple of seconds I’m already over the wall. Tape
springs underfoot, pushes, hurries.
I want to laugh, but I still look around.            
 Wow!                                     
 What's going on in Al-Kabar! The streets are filled
disliked by the people, others are already running along the tape
guards, and crawls out of one building
something huge, snakey, unpleasant. No
desire to peer.                    
 Faster...                               
 The tape jumps over the monster and arcs
rests on the ground. The guard came to life again
twitches, pulls its paws up - so
the hair bridge breaks, but does not reach
me. And he is not able to leave his place -
rigidly fixed to its communication channel.   
 In the last meters the tape is under your feet
suddenly begins to shake and tries to throw away
kick me back. Al-Kaba programmers
ra" regained control.But it’s too late, I’m on the ground, and people approach me.
a gray wolf is running.                        
 - Sit down, Ivanushka, it’s time to get going! - screams
he.                                       
 I jump on the wolf, look around in the village
last time. The guards jump off the tape,
a winged shadow flies over the abyss.         
 - Sax! - I whisper my favorite curse word -
in virtual workers. Sax is "hanging"
a computer that did not want to run the program
ma, sour beer or left under your nose
trolleybus. In this case - so energetically
geeky chase. We don't have time to
calmly pump the contents of the apple
ke" information and disappear into thin air.
We must run, we must confuse our tracks.           
 But my partner in wolf's clothing can do it.
 We rush through the desert, then turn into
forest Smeared shadows rush behind us -
guards sacrifice their intimidating appearance in
exchange for speed.                        
 - How far is the pursuit, Ivan Tsarevich? - right-
the wolf sews.                              
 - Close! - I admit.                 
 - Oh, Ivan, I can’t stand you! - roars
wolf                                     
 I take out a comb, break it in my hand and throw it behind
back. A deafening crack, the teeth fly apart
hide, stick into the ground and begin
grow, turning into gigantic trees.
The movements of the guards between them become
lethargic, sleepy -space overflow-
seen by suddenly appearing objects, and
enemies' pewters get bogged down in an abundance of empty
information.                               
 Unfortunately, this trick is old, and the method
The savagery of fighting him is perfectly worked out.
Most of the guards managed to narrow the field
vision or reduce the detail of the image
niya, and slipped through a dangerous place. More precisely,
this was not done by the guards themselves, but by their diplomatic
programs. Dropped out mainly due to incomplete
professionals who rushed in pursuit from the enthu-
Ziasma.                                   
 - Oh, Ivan, my strength is running out! -
the wolf screams. I can't understand, he really
is worried, or is the fairytale playing so excitedly?
new plot?                                
 Now comes the turn of the mirror. When I throw
it back, my discreet Windows Home
yells:                                    
 - Unethical!                              
 Of course, unethical. Of course. This is no longer
petty prank with fast-growing baobas
bami, and not even a local sword virus. This
logic bomb of considerable power.       
 Where the mirror fell, a
The pond begins to rapidly expand.
Some of the guards fly into it and “drown”
disappears without a trace. The rest are helpless
stop on the shore.                
 In this area of virtuality,
All communication lines are blocked. Throughthis zone
not pass for at least a couple of hours -
then the pond will dry up.                    
 - Where did you get the things? - asks the wolf.    
 “At Marya the mistress,” hesitating from-
I'm hanging out. To be honest, it was the nickname and
today's masquerade prompted me...
The wolf won't give it away. And they can also serve him
try similar programs.               
 “I’ll keep that in mind,” thanks the wolf, quickly looking around.
he pauses and asks: - What do you have on
third, hero?                         
 The dragon is rushing after us - combat program -
Ma-interceptor of the highest category. At the dragon's
three heads - obviously three people-opera-
tora, and plus the usual arsenal - claws, teeth
and flame. Hundreds of different viruses and
strong protection. There's only a dragon above the pond
slows down a little.                      
 “I spent the third one first,” I admit.
 - Couldn’t you take more? Into fairy tales
got carried away, three items - that's all? - growls
wolf He's wrong, of course, too much
You can’t carry combat viruses on yourself. But
We're both getting nervous.                    
 The wolf makes some decision and abruptly
turns to the side, speeding up even more
running Stops at a wide mossy
stump, so sharply that I fly to the ground. Looks-
stares at me and jumps
through the stump.                               
 I prefer to use water when
I'm changingappearance Stream, river, or at least half
ny ladle. But werewolves are conservative.    
 In the air the wolf turns over, and
grows into a person. Young man in
modest gray suit and patent leather boots
teens. My diver buddy as always
elegant. As soon as he falls, he gets up, jumps
barks again and turns into my exact
copy.                                    
 - Vika, stream! - I command, realizing
what he was up to. But the former wolf is already enough
me by the shoulders and shouting: “There’s no time!”
throws over the stump.                       
 Be exposed to someone else's mimicry
using the program is a little pleasure.
I barely have time to whisper: “Vika, freeze!”
so that the caring "Windows-Home" does not reproduce
resisted reincarnation.                 
 I was in the skin of a wolf a long time ago, when
virtuality has just emerged, that’s all
dabbled in metamorphosis. Fortunately,
there is no need to renew yourself on all fours - I
I only change in appearance. I unfasten my sword and hand it over
his new Ivan Tsarevich, he grabs
weapon and jumps on my shoulders.         
 - Come on, eat up, grass bag! - screams
he pounded his heels. I rush forward and
in time - a dragon appears above the trees
con. Dives at us and fires three
jets of flame. Accurately according to our course
a fire breaks out.                         
 - Let's! - my partner screams, and in a whisperadds: - In the evening, where always... I
I jerk sharply, throw it off, and run away,
showered with curses.                    
 The dragon circles above us for a second, then
makes a simple choice and falls next to
with a fairy-tale hero. His cowardly partner
not interested.                            
 That's what was required.                       
 I run to the side and whisper:                   
 - Vika, download new files!         
 The battle is raging behind me. However, not long
gee. The werewolf manages to hit the dragon
sword, but against the protection of the program-cross-
The vachika virus is powerless. Around the werewolf
a white snow cloud boils, and he
freezes.                                 
 Freezing. All. My friend left the game -
He’s already at home, pulling off his virtual helmet. A
stands in front of the grinning muzzles of the dragon
its copy, along with all the obtained pro-
frames... if only he had them, of course
were.                                     
 The dragon lightly hits the frozen body
paw, and then it crumbles into icy shards
kami. All three heads bow to them...
looking for a stolen apple.                   
 And I'm running.                                
 The apple in my bosom is getting lighter -
information is leaking to my computer. Pet-
I bark between the trees, then I stop,
to make it easier for Windows Home to transfer
read file.I can hear the roar of a dragon - he is not
discovered what was stolen and understood why
matter.                                     
 Who's faster?                             
 The dragon soars into the sky again. He's easy
will find me - movement in virtuality
leave traces. I stand and wait.            
 - File transfer is complete.               
 All. Victory.                             
 “Exit,” I command.                   
 - Seriously? - Windows Home clarifies.   
 - Yes.                                    
 “Exit from virtuality,” reports the com-
pewter. Colors sparkle before your eyes -
 sparks. The world is losing its brightness...
turns into a faded, flat picture. 
 - Your exit from virtual space
completed successfully! - Vin says joyfully
Dow's Home." The voice from the headphones is harsh and
too loud. On the helmet screens - goose-
melting blue with a white figurine of a soaring, or,
more like a falling man. Known to everyone
deep, depth, virtual world icon.  
 Pulling off my helmet, I blinked, looking at the monitor.
There is the same picture.               
 “Vika, thank you,” I said.             
 “No problem, Lenya,” Vin answered.
Dow's Home." I learned this small courtesy
I read it about a week ago. It's nice when
the program looks more human than
there should be.                              
 - Terminal.The blue was replaced by a terminal panel. I
manually connected to the sixth, standing
computer-router, and removed my access.
Then he canceled his temporary address in Austria
rii.                                      
 The main threads are broken. Look for me, re-
Al-Kabara guy. Reseed files into
searching for "Ivan Tsarevich". The diver left
trap.                                  
 No longer using voice control, I
turned off Windows Home, fell into three-dimensional
new Norton table, entered the disk
"D" where all virtual loot was stored
and a small collection of viruses. Here it is
"apple" is a one and a half megabyte file. C
in appearance - the most common document for text-
first editor of Advance Word. However, to
two more small files are attached to him
la... watchdog programs? I launched
scanning program developed by
but for such surprises.               
 Yeah. That's right. These are identification programs
the agents that should destroy the file,
if it ends up on someone else's computer.    
 We know this matter. And I’ve long stopped from him
identifier programs are simply protected
they don't see my computer. On drive "D" I
I keep just such dangerous things.         
 Inside the text file itself the scanner
I also discovered a surprise little program
mku, presumably -turning on when
trying to read the information. Nothing else
I didn't expect it. I made a copy of the file on the Mag-
thread floppy disk, then onto a laser disk. And when-
decided to gut an apple from al-Kabar's
gardens                                    
 Kill watchdog programs without destroying
It turned out to be impossible to understand the text. I had to
simply stun them, render them inoperative
condition. Then I took up the internal
surprise. Cut the file into two dozen
pieces, isolated the guard program. She
turned out to be a completely unfamiliar polymorphic
a virus that - and this was already unpleasant -
but! - managed to get hooked on my computer -
ter. After two hours of continuous operation,
distracted only by drinking a tab-
a bottle of aspirin and go to the toilet, I’ll make sure
I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to uncover the virus.       
 It was already late evening - the time when ha-
The kers are just starting to work. I packed
uploaded a virus with a piece of text and called
Maniac.                                  
 I had to wait about two minutes while he took off
handset. I was lucky - he could very well
hang around virtuality, indifferent to
calls, fires, floods, etc.
annoying little things in life.                   
 - Yes?                                    
 - Maniac, it's me.                         
 The hacker's voice softened slightly.             
 - Hello, Lenya. What do you have?              
 - New virus to your collection.          
 - Throw it! - hanging up the phone with lightning speed, saying
Hall Maniac.                               
 I started the modem and sent al-kaba-
a surprise in the greedy hands of a builder
viruses. I took bread out of the refrigerator,
Basu, I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. On-
The virus will probably take Maniac half an hour.
He will break it for about ten minutes, and then
twenty minutes to admire the structure, ho-
want to, noting bad decisions, and frown
struggle, finding those moves that he himself
haven't come to mind yet. Since the time of Mos-
KOV Convention, which resigned itself to
inevitable and legalized the production of non-
fatal viruses, he manufactures them
cooking. He makes viruses well
strong, capable of hanging any car, and in
at the same time, not destroying information on it
mation.                                    
 But Maniac called three minutes later.     
 - Have you visited Al-Kabar? - honey
he asked in a voice.                       
 “Yes,” there was no point in lying. - You are so
did you get it done quickly?                         
 - I couldn’t cope. This is my virus, buddy
tel!                                     
 I couldn't find anything better to say:  
 - Sorry...                              
 A maniac, but in the world just Sasha, he was very  
serious:                                 
 - Did you steal from them?program?          
 - Not quite right. But in general - yes, it is
was embedded in the file...                   
 -Have you contacted anyone via modem?
After receiving this file?        
 - No.                                   
 “Then you’re lucky,” said Maniac. -
You see, this is not a simple virus, this is -
postcard.                                 
 I didn’t understand, and Maniac explained:            
 - Postcard with return address. If the virus
discovers that there is a computer on the computer
communication equipment, he glues
for each of your letters one more - tiny -
new, invisible... postcard. Without any
text, but with your return address.
The letters leave together, and then, with a strange
your computer, the postcard is sent to
Al-Kabara security service.         
 Everything inside me went cold.            
 - I got a virus on the car...            
 - You nailed not the virus itself, but false reflections
the marriages he created. Especially for
lulling vigilance. Mass programs
the postcard has not yet been discovered - too
a rare thing.                             
 - What should I do?                      
 “Give me some beer,” Maniac grinned.
Now you will receive a letter from me, there is a doctor -
st. Special antivirus. Hints in
no, you just run the bat file and it
checks the car. Mind you, there will bework
long, this is not a commercial product, but
so... personal insurance from your own
virus.                                   
 - Thank you.                               
 - Yes. Lenya, you almost got into big trouble.
new troubles.                         
 “There are a lot of hackers,” I muttered. - Damn,
what have you never told me about
this thing?                               
 - How did I know that you were a computer scientist?
Are you doing hacking? - he reasonably objected
Maniac. - Next time ask me
if you're going to climb into cool places. Lad-
but, turn on the modem.                        
 A couple of minutes later I launched the resulting
antivirus. He worked really slowly
every minute notifying that it has been discovered
wife "postcard". The polymorph has spread across
the entire computer.                         
 And indeed I almost got stuck.                   
 Looking at the screen, I built myself
a hefty sandwich, poured a cup of tea and
went out onto the balcony. It was already dark,
there was a light rain. The air was damp and cold
Lodny.                                   
 Overconfidence kills divers. We don't
the dangers of the virtual world are terrible, and this
lulls vigilance.                  
 And the most offensive thing is that we are not at all pro-
professionals. For some reason, hackers are not semi-
divers are excited - they accept virtual
the world as reality.But I, a mediocre artist from dis-
a computer company founded three years ago
games, who received as a severance pay-
beat the old computer and climbed into the depths,
became a diver. One of a hundred now living
                                      
 Lucky.                                 
 Probably just luck.                
                                          
        TO BE CONTINUED...