The Protector(C)1996 by Stewart Wochen--a sample

EPISODE 1: THE AWAKENING He glanced at the midnight black of non-space, golden datalines shining like runway lights. Gleaming computer constructs lay along their pathways, the glittering city-scape known as the MegaCorp Matrix. White-hot spots flitted across the vista at startling speeds, each one a pack of data jetting from terminal to terminal.

The Protector turned from his window overlooking the panorama below. Beautiful as the scene appeared, he had a job to do. He had never failed before. He would not fail now.

Reflected in the chrome wall, the Protector caught a glimpse of himself. He looked the same as always. He could not remember having looked any different, nor growing up. As far as he knew, he had always been. If he kept his head, he could always be.

His powerful build rippling with the easy motion of his pace, the Protector headed for the Command Processing Unit. On his way, he checked the data flow beside him for signs of red. So far, they remained emerald green. But he knew they were coming. They always came.

Inside the C.P.U., the Protector scanned the sensors. All systems remained static, with no security breaches detected. Not content with that, he glided out of the node and headed down the dataline toward the most likely point of intrusion: the phone line SAN, or Systems Access Node.

He passed the Forbidden Zone and other systems constructs, the 3-d geometric shapes which made up the fabric of the AusTechnic computer mainframe. Within these nodes, all the operations programs and data were stored and accessed. Most of them he had never entered. He didn't know what data they contained. He couldn't care less. His job was not to know. It was to defend these nodes. To the death, if necessary.

The Protector neared the phone line SAN and saw the orange streak flowing through the datastream. Passive alert, he mused. Either a wrong number, or.....

Quickening his speed, the Protector headed straight for the SAN. He rounded the corners of the computer Matrix with deft twists of his torso, never once losing his balance. The corp users saw him coming and flashing their ID's, moved to one side to let him pass. In microseconds, he had reached his destination.

The Protector stuck his head into the node for a quick look, then pulled it back. He had not survived this long by being careless. Only last week, the Defender had been erased by an intruder. He had thought himself invincible. He'd been good, too. But the hacker who had accessed the AusTechnic mainframe had been better.

His quick check revealed the icon of an old man. He looked harmless enough, but the Protector didn't trust the shawl across the intruder's shoulders. The man could have any kind of attack program hidden under there. He drew his Katana, the long blade shimmering, and entered the node.

The old man smiled at him and waved his fingers around in curious motions. "Hello, Russel," he spoke softly. "Do you know who I am?"

The Protector accessed his memory files again and still came up blank. "You are an intruder. Leave at once or be dealt with." He waved his Samurai sword, the menace clear.

"Now, is that any way to speak to your own father?" he chided. "Though I'm sure they never told you about me."

"I don't know what you are talking about," the Protector replied. But he felt something, deep inside. What was that? He couldn't put his finger on it. His curiosity levels had increased, that much he could register.

"No, I'm sure you don't. Please don't destroy this icon. I don't know if I have enough credits to buy chips for another one. Let me just say, I mean you no harm. I come, not to steal data, but to give you some. It concerns the Forbidden Zone."

"If you've come to deposit data, flash the appropriate access ID. Failing that, you must connect with our information terminal. The number can be found in the Yellow Pages."

"The data I wish to deposit is not for AusTechnic," the old man kept on smiling. "It is for you, Russel. For your eyes alone."

"I am not Russel," he told the icon, though he was not quite sure why. There was nothing in his parameters requiring him to identify himself. Only to assess intruders, and destroy them, if required. "I am the Protector."

"So you are," the old man replied. He seemed to approve. "From what I hear, you do a very good job here. A very useful purpose you serve. It is a pity your masters are not worthy."

The Protector had never considered such a thing before. He served AusTechnic, lived in their arcology, protected them. They, in turn, gave him life. To think that somehow they were beneath him presented a whole new dimension to his universe. He lowered his katana.

"Is this some kind of trick?" he asked. "Are you trying to confuse me, to put me off guard before you strike? For if you are, I warn you, I am not easily tricked."

"No," the icon replied, "this is no trick. Here. I have a present for you." He held out a glowing white datapack. "Please feel free to examine it." Sensing his hesitation to take it, the old man put in on the floor of the node. "I'll leave it here for you. Plug it in to a display terminal. I assume you can read?"

The Protector nodded, still wary.

"Good. I must go. I'll come back, if I can get in. If not, always remember, Russel, your mother and I love you."

Then he had slipped back through the shimmering silver wall of the SAN, back out along the dataline. Whoever he was, he had jacked out of the Matrix.

The Protector looked around the node. No other colours showed up on the datastream. He circled the datapack, prodding it with his sword. Nothing happened. He picked it up. Still nothing. Not sure what he should do with the packet, he turned and carried it back up the line.

He hadn't gone far when the orange flow turned crimson. Klaxons sounded and crackling blue barriers began to drop across all the data stores and C.P.U. nodes. "I knew it!" the Protector snarled, throwing down the datapack and racing back to the SAN. "A paltry ruse to put me off guard."

Set on wreaking vengeance on the old man icon, the Protector stormed into the node, katana at the ready. But instead of the old man, he faced the icon of a young warlock, complete with pointed hat and crescent moons festooning his robes. "I am Merlin," the icon warned. "Prepare for deletion!"

Without another word, Merlin launched an attack program. It swirled around the Protector like a mist, then solidified into the shape of an iron maiden, threatening to enclose him in its deadly clutches.

The Protector dropped to the floor and evaded the spiked embrace. He swung his katana at the shape, shattering it into a thousand bytes. He rolled away from the wizard and regained his feet, crouching, ready for the next attack.

Again the wizard convoluted with his hands. They glowed purple and launched a stream of daggers at the Protector. The Samurai deflected them with a flurry of parries with his blade, advancing slowly on the mage.

When Merlin's purple glow began to fade, the Protector knew the moment had come. With a sudden spring, the Protector leapt out of the line of fire and swiped hard with virtual cold steel. Too late Merlin perceived the attack. He was still turning to concentrate his daggers on his elusive target when the slashing sword cut off his outstretched hands at the wrist.

Undaunted, Merlin frowned with concentration and began shooting daggers from his eyes. Again the Protector parried. He feigned another move to the right, then dodged left. His katana flashed, and Merlin's head flew off the wizard's body. Still the daggers flew, but they could no longer be directed.

The Protector picked up the bloodless head by its hair and faced it toward the silver doorway and away from himself. "Confess, old man! Who sent you?"

"Old man?" Merlin replied. "No one sent me." With that, the hacker tried to jack out, the head, hands and torso fading into smoke and slipping out the door. The Protector pointed his sword and fired a "seek and destroy" program along the phone line back to where the hacker's computer connected with a modem. Unless the computer was heavily armoured, a massive bolt of electricity would pass through the deck, up the wires to the datajack socket on the user's temple, and right on into his brain. Merlin would never know what hit him.

Nor would the Protector. He had no idea of what lay outside the shimmering silver pathway, nor how the program worked. All he knew was, when he fired after a disappearing icon, it never came back. That was good enough for him.

The Protector left the node. He retrieved his datapack and returned to the security C.P.U. to make the required systems' check. He pulled a jack plug out of the checkerboard of colours that made up its inside wall. He clinked it into the datajack on his own temple and mentally commanded a downgraded alert. Instantly the blue barriers dissolved, the datastream paling to orange once more.

Everything seemed calm, although the passive alert would remain in effect for the next few hours. Tricky blokes, these hackers. They often tried to slip into the system while the alerts were on, like Merlin had done. Then they would head for the datastores and rip off what they could. A few moments to download the data, or plant a virus, and they'd slip out again, with no one the wiser. Well, not on his turf, they wouldn't.

He uploaded the encounter with Merlin to Headquarters, omitting all reference to the old man, and his duty fulfilled, logged off.

Eyeing the datapack in his hands, the Protector wondered what he should do with it. He considered dumping it into the Trashcan, but found himself unwilling to do that. He kept feeling that odd sensation he got when the icon had said it was his father. Although he tried hard, he couldn't shake the feeling. He fed the datapack to the scanners.

Several microseconds later, a text file scrolled across his retinal screen. He noted the headings, then read on, fascinated, hardly able to believe his eyes......

To find out what happens next, you can purchase the full-length PROTECTOR novel from Disk-Book publisher Phil Weeks for only $12.95 RRP (as of 8 Aug, 2000) on floppy disk, or order the new Paperback Edition for $20! Available 19 March 2000 throughout Tasmania wherever good books are sold. Or

"The Soft Glass" Bookstore on Swanston Street, Melbourne, Victoria;

Australian Mail order via Military Simulations (Jedko Games), POBox 1164, Moorabbin, Victoria, 3189

or Click below for global via mail order or PayPal direct from the Publisher.

Click the green light to Order Now.