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Light In The Darkness
Walking down the street, he was nothing more then another citizen, another drone amongst the teeming masses of humanity. He wore a simple black shirt and black pants, marked with the logos of the University of Planet and the Morgan textile company that produced them.
No one stopped him when he walked down a quiet alleyway, or even bothered thinking about why he wanted to go down that way. University Base was a busy place, and the scientific elite (and the drones who thought they were scientific elite) had things to do and places to go, and little time to wonder about some man dressed in black clothing walking down a quiet alleyway.
He sat down behind a recycling chute. He thought to himself that the chute must connect this entire building to the massive recycling tanks underneath the city streets. He thought to himself how strict University rules must be regarding this type of thing. He added that to another reason he didn't like the University of Planet.
His hand waved over his small laptop computer, in one fluid motion opening the small holoscreen and turning it on. A few nameless icons appeared on the generally bland holoscreen, and a small optic cable pushed itself out of the side of the small, flat black computer. The man pulled the cable out and plugged it into a small hole on the side of the building. He silently thanked the previous probe operatives that inserted this small port in the building at the costs of their lives. Their sacrifice would not be in vain.
A few flashes of symbols, again without names or numbers or any other type of identifying mark, flashed back and forth on the screen. To one not trained such as he, they would be nothing more then what they appeared, meaningless symbols. But he knew better. They were representations of the University fusion lab's security protocols. He knew what he had to do. He began to work.
The symbols flashed, the symbols changed. The man's fingers glided like lightning over the computer device's keyboard. He didn't stop to think that he was the fastest, the best. He didn't have time. The University ICE programs didn't let him. They were just that good. But he was better.
A short time passed. The man didn't keep track of it, but he didn't have to. A woman waiting across the street watching the public holovids was keeping track for him. A small beep sounded in the man's ear, a beep he knew meant that the University agents had started tracking his position. He had only a short time left. But it was all he needed.
With a small smirk, he typed a few final buttons on the computer device. A symbol flashed, indicating that the files had been saved and encrypted. He unplugged the device from the wall, shut the holoscreen, and casually stood up and walked out of the quiet alleyway. His face betrayed no emotion, but any observer might have noticed that he had a slight bounce in his step. He simply walked down the street, out of harm's way and out of the far-reaching grasp of the University security teams that arrived on the scene mere moments after the man's departure.
He signaled a hovertaxi with his hand. He knew a taxi was nearby. He knew it would stop and pick him up, and, of course, it did.
The taxi driver, the same woman who was standing on the corner watching holovids, didn't bother asking the man where he was going. Instead, she simply asked one question.
"Mission?" she said.
"Yes," was his reply.
The taxi continued on its course. The man silently thanked the one who truly made this all possible.
He touched his forehead, his chest, and then once to both shoulders.
No one stopped him when he walked down a quiet alleyway, or even bothered thinking about why he wanted to go down that way. University Base was a busy place, and the scientific elite (and the drones who thought they were scientific elite) had things to do and places to go, and little time to wonder about some man dressed in black clothing walking down a quiet alleyway.
He sat down behind a recycling chute. He thought to himself that the chute must connect this entire building to the massive recycling tanks underneath the city streets. He thought to himself how strict University rules must be regarding this type of thing. He added that to another reason he didn't like the University of Planet.
His hand waved over his small laptop computer, in one fluid motion opening the small holoscreen and turning it on. A few nameless icons appeared on the generally bland holoscreen, and a small optic cable pushed itself out of the side of the small, flat black computer. The man pulled the cable out and plugged it into a small hole on the side of the building. He silently thanked the previous probe operatives that inserted this small port in the building at the costs of their lives. Their sacrifice would not be in vain.
A few flashes of symbols, again without names or numbers or any other type of identifying mark, flashed back and forth on the screen. To one not trained such as he, they would be nothing more then what they appeared, meaningless symbols. But he knew better. They were representations of the University fusion lab's security protocols. He knew what he had to do. He began to work.
The symbols flashed, the symbols changed. The man's fingers glided like lightning over the computer device's keyboard. He didn't stop to think that he was the fastest, the best. He didn't have time. The University ICE programs didn't let him. They were just that good. But he was better.
A short time passed. The man didn't keep track of it, but he didn't have to. A woman waiting across the street watching the public holovids was keeping track for him. A small beep sounded in the man's ear, a beep he knew meant that the University agents had started tracking his position. He had only a short time left. But it was all he needed.
With a small smirk, he typed a few final buttons on the computer device. A symbol flashed, indicating that the files had been saved and encrypted. He unplugged the device from the wall, shut the holoscreen, and casually stood up and walked out of the quiet alleyway. His face betrayed no emotion, but any observer might have noticed that he had a slight bounce in his step. He simply walked down the street, out of harm's way and out of the far-reaching grasp of the University security teams that arrived on the scene mere moments after the man's departure.
He signaled a hovertaxi with his hand. He knew a taxi was nearby. He knew it would stop and pick him up, and, of course, it did.
The taxi driver, the same woman who was standing on the corner watching holovids, didn't bother asking the man where he was going. Instead, she simply asked one question.
"Mission?" she said.
"Yes," was his reply.
The taxi continued on its course. The man silently thanked the one who truly made this all possible.
He touched his forehead, his chest, and then once to both shoulders.