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Assistant: Title: SAC 2045: Singularity Condition
        Author: RiptideZ RiptideZ 
        Chapter: 3/6 
        Summary: "The day we become gods; we will not know the difference." A Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045 reimagining.Situation Update: Prologue/Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.5 complete & posted. Previews of Ch.4, Ch.6 posted. Ch.7, Ch.8 in progress.
        Contents: Chapter 3: Network Anxiety - UNFINISHED GIG 1
    

    


      
        
          Four months of work. 11990 words, and many headaches and spells later. I managed to get this monstrosity of a massive chapter out. Happy belated New Year's, readers. Not sure how many people will see this since these chapters are posted out of order but I hope you enjoy a chapter that doubled this story's word count overnight. This chapter is an original addition to the events of SAC_2045's narrative. Expect one more of these exploring the Den Spirit before jumping back to 2045 A.D. Thank you for reading, and any feedback possible!
      
  

  
  
    
    “Network Anxiety – UNFINISHED GIG 1”Hokkaido, Japan, 2039. . . 
  Recollection Two. Six years from sea change…
“We’re close, Major. Time to wake up.”Major Kusanagi Motoko shivered with annoyance. She repositioned the itchy JSDF canvas blanket over her curled-up, tactical skinsuit and her ratty folding cushion of the past five hours. She rebuffed Batou’s voice despite being her ever dutiful deputy. Five more minutes, no, an extra hour! And yet…“Come on, Major. You’re setting a bad example for the team.”Offering a quiet huff, Kusanagi casually began to flick-on her synthetic bodily functions. Outside of her cyborg shell, Batou and thirty-two other Public Security operatives watched on curiously as their field commander let off a defiant breath of hot air from her synthetic lungs.The Major began with the more tolerable of her internal systems: flexibility, synthetic muscles, smell, and taste functions. Batou smelled of something animal-like, but she couldn’t recall the last time he put serious thought to owning a dog. He always talked of ownership, for as long as she knew him anyway. Maybe he would finally get one, or maybe he got one recently? She flicked on her sense of touch and registered Batou’s general proximity like a friendly whisper. His warm breath tickled her neck and she couldn’t help a small, humorous smirk behind her closed lips and eyelids.His voice had a quality of a distant and welcome trumpet, familiar and steady in her uneven storm of a life. She could hide a little longer, Kusanagi thought once more to herself. But at the slight distress and annoyance under Batou’s words, she knew the fun was over before it started. Back to work, once more. Her shy, innocent humor vanished. Once more, one last time.Kusanagi’s smirk dropped into a frown as she flicked on her virtual gyroscope, reintroducing gravity to her mind and system. Selective touch became full awareness and she accepted the indisputable fact she was on Section Nine’s tiltrotor heavy transport aircraft with its wobbly handling in turbulence and lack of creature comforts for a contemporary aircraft. Her cushion and the aircraft floor gave a groan and mighty shake as if a universal confirmation. Maybe it was just an immutable law of the universe and with exception to their wonderous technology, defense contractors seem to make military aircraft at the lowest value possible of creature comforts.Besides the shaking of the tiltrotor, she gritted her vibrating jaw with unfortunate acceptance that the high-speed fan blades would one day shatter her perfect, synthetic teeth. Kusanagi unlocked her jaw and licked her elastic lips experimentally. Being a cyborg was always a matter of compromises, living a contradictive full and half-full existence caught between the material and virtual worlds. Especially the virtual world, a place where netizens increasingly needed to remind themselves it was not separate from the real and material.The brain might remember to breath on its own, but the ghost in the machine might forget the volitionary essentials: water, exercise, food, and sleep. Kusanagi’s own existence to an extent was a virtual experience imposed onto the physical world. Despite her full cyborg body, she still had need of the human essentials too. By her existence, it was easy to forget without software alerts about biological and mechanical upkeep. It was a trivial thought but the small details of her imperfection protected the thin, illusionary veil of her humanity. They created a clear, personal separation against the human-shaped machines and the humans seeking mechanical forms.She spent her younger years practicing human mannerisms to convince others, but especially herself that she was irrefutably human. She knew this for certain. She had a human past, and yet she spent a long time carrying the insecurity. What if she wasn’t human after all? She addressed it, curtailed the fear. But the fear returned. Maybe that was the most human quality of all, to experience the world in fluctuations of emotion. Always changing, like the everchanging sea tides. Certainty and doubt were never far behind one another, changing in cycles.“I’m awake Batou, can you let the ground team know of our arrival? I still need a moment.”The Major spoke her vague orders but she still felt asleep, as if far away from her present reality. There was something else underneath the insecurity but she had difficulty formulating it into thoughts, then words. Every time Kusanagi felt close to grasping the crystallization of her troubles, it slipped through her fingers like sand granules on the wind. It wasn’t just one problem, but an ever evolving one, changing and adapting with the interfacing of new information. The closest she came to an answer was in the heights of the Health Ministry’s vertical warehouse in 2034 and the creature of the Net she encountered put something like a mirror to her face.The creature, the rogue AI system called Puppeteer or maybe the late-bureaucratic system programmer Takaaki Koshiki, was unclear in its origin as human, machine, combination, or something else entirely. But it existed to solve problems, behaving in a manner reflective of the growing incomprehension among creators and engineers in next-generation AI training: the so-called “black box AI” condition. Black boxes hid their inner functions from the end user; it would not be such a problem if only the black box condition didn’t obscure AI functions from developers too. They had their access but the black box became a twisted mirror to cover that computer complexity got beyond their own aspirations. It was an excuse: an allowance to walk away as a government assemblyman claimed no knowledge of his project’s inner workings, as a fortunate death of the Health Ministry’s prodigal network designer by self-neglect, and consequences resolved only to the extent of police paperwork say-so and classified out of reach from auditors and government watchdogs.Post-investigation and privately, Kusanagi and Chief Aramaki agreed the best summary of the Puppeteer incident was a popular unconscious guided by networked human users, or an integrated AI network generated a “cascading paperclip problem” out of the increasing socioeconomic pressures under investigation at the Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare. They exchanged few words of Kusanagi’s own role in the incident. The Puppeteer was another standalone complex; another strange, and spontaneous Internet manifestation. To say more would muddle an already confusing apparition.The creature spoke, from far off in her daydream, echoing her own words and its own as a harmonized choir five years later. “You still haven’t pieced it together? Come now, Kusanagi Motoko. Surely there cannot be an overabundance of people dwelling in your memory burning with this overwhelming, egotistical rightfulness?”The Puppeteer showed Kusanagi faces. Faces of her friends, her foes. And her. The mirror.“We’ve synchronized with countless consciousnesses over the years, so it shouldn’t come as a big surprise that your deep collective subconscious came to life. And with it, the Solid State is complete. It’s time for us to go forth. Let’s become a vanishing mediator and go take an active hand in the next society.”But what made the Solid State complete? Who or what made up the deep collective subconscious? Was it too early to assume it was gone for good? Where did it go to? And who or what did it take with it? It seemed to imply she went too…So many questions. The problem with the agreed-on conclusion between Kusanagi and Aramaki was its conservativism in imagination. The Puppeteer’s exchange with the Major didn’t sound like a simple paperclip maximizer. It sounded convincingly human, or something trying to rationalize for a human. Did that make it human, or something else? Chief Aramaki was never one without imagination, but possibly with the dangers of dreaming big dreams, he and Kusanagi didn’t dare speculate how far the Solid State or other standalone complexes reached in scope.It was a justification to escape something they simply could not comprehend yet, and hoped someone in the next generation might figure out instead. And it was an excuse, but such things invited fear and dread. Powerlessness and exposed weakness in the face of humanity’s achievements. Was their technology getting away from them? Kusanagi shivered again over the thought the Puppeteer was still out there somewhere on the Net watching her from afar. Could that mean Hideo Kuze was out there too, watching over her?The Major hardened her mind. There was no room to allow unfocused speculation. Kuze was dead, and so was the Puppeteer. If either survived in some form at all, what else once dismissed out of hand could turnout true? To ask was to fall back into the mystifying maze of the virtual world once again. Kusanagi opened her eyes, blinking out of practice rather than biological necessity.The tiltrotor aircraft wobbled once more as ever expected, but outside the windows a partly sunny horizon and an expanse of white ground glowed from below. Japan’s big island Hokkaido was radiant in winter: in a few minutes they would lower to the ground and Section Nine’s mission would begin. The Major mumbled an old quote she remembered from an American Empire science fiction drama she saw as a child. “That when convention and science offer us no answers… Might we finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?”“Did you say something, Major?”Batou stepped away for a moment to converse in the tiltrotor cockpit with an unseen party, likely the pilot or the ground investigation team expecting their arrival.“Sorry Batou, I was just thinking to myself.”The former Ranger kneeled before Kusanagi and grasped one of her chair handles to balance himself against the shaking floor.“What’s on your mind? You seem a little out of it this morning…”Kusanagi met Batou’s veiled cybernetic eyes, offering distant eyes and a soft shrug.“You know why.”Batou frowned. “Maybe, but there’s always something more with you. Something I can’t see.”Kusanagi’s eyes widened, freeing herself from half-slumber. Despite wakefulness, a rare sense of bashfulness washed over her. She looked away from Batou, “You got whiskers.”The white-haired giant of a cyborg wiped his sand-white chin with the back of his glove on reflex. “I suppose I have. Helps with the cold… But that’s a dodge if I’ve ever heard one from you. Is it the mission, or Section Nine?”“Maybe. Could be both? Or all of it altogether?” Kusanagi phrased her remark as a surprised question, even to herself.“You know I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”Kusanagi shook her head. “Not right now,” she offered a soft chuckle. “You and I seem lousy at timing.”Batou hummed, changing subjects. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. We were lucky the winter storm cleared out as we flew in, the operation won’t be so bad now. The ground team secured a car park for us on the edge of Sapporo. We’ll land and drive out from there.”“Snow movers clear the roadways?”Batou glanced away to check their virtual itinerary. Despite the Major already checking it herself, the mission relevant items made for good conversation to pass time and forget her concerns, or at least other concerns of the day.“Yeah, snow clearing in the area begins at midnight and continued until daylight. Average snowfall is twelve or less centimeters so that helps limit routes of escape. Prefecture police started several roadblocks at 0730 local time along Route 274 out of Sapporo’s northern district and intersections of the Ishikari River valley.”The Major hummed back, glancing at a virtual Sapporo factsheet. “That’s fast coordination… 5,400 kilometers of snow cleared across Sapporo’s roadways every night. I suppose we can’t expect the same efficiency from all their police?”Batou raised an eyebrow, “You trying to do this job without them, Major?”Kusanagi’s eyes closed, tightening in strained thought. “No, I… Don’t like last minute operations. This is messy, and going off another agency’s intelligence has never done us any good. Togusa tell you anything new during your call this morning?”“Nothing he didn’t already say two days prior from debriefing with the police liaison and our local team. The police aren’t happy we took over, but they agree with Police HQ about the ‘Den Spirit’ group. They’re ambitious enough, and even Sapporo wants them gone.”“So much for the courts and due process. Or maybe the prefecture government already tried that… Scouring online discourse just contains gossip and conjecture. It feels like, we’ve been setup to fail here. Just one mission to the next, no time to plan or verify.” Kusanagi remarked of forlorn reason, glancing back to the tiltrotor cargo bay. Many of their field agents and officers were still in varied degrees of sleep or relative relaxation.Batou shrugged, “We’ve been here before. Back when Gouda was yanking our chain.”Kusanagi remained distant, “At least we fought him that time. We won. Does this look like winning?”Many faces of Section Nine looked on with faraway stares probably nursing similar worries as Batou and the Major through the cargo bay. Most operatives clutched their canvas blankets knowing what was to come: a gunfight and then oblivion. They were a reduced force now; the assault team was down fourteen agents thanks to private sector headhunting and a hiring freeze.The skies over Hokkaido were already cold, but the aircraft pressurization and air conditioning system worked to moderate the chill a little. When they touched down, the team would meet the afterbite of a blizzard. Had Kuze lived, Kusanagi wasn’t sure how the future might look but he might’ve offered useful insight into winter warfare from the Korean peninsula. Overhead lighting flickered from dimmed ambience to an even interior glow as the aircraft intercom crackled overhead from one of Section Nine’s few human pilots, “We’re beginning touchdown proceedings. Sapporo police are at the designated landing zone, and Commander Togusa with Team North is waiting for us. Shifting from forward to vertical thrust, standby. Ninety seconds to touchdown. One last check, make sure equipment and personnel are strapped in.”Green acknowledgement lights winked on across the Section Nine cyber lobby, confirming the pilot’s request. Batou slipped into the empty chair next to Kusanagi and latched the aged four-way buckle strap to his torso. His acknowledgement light flashed from yellow to green as Kusanagi rolled her canvas blanket into a ball and flashed her own greenlight.“About to be super cold,” Batou grumbled as the tiltrotor turbines groaned against the wind, turning into a glorified helicopter.“Turn down your skin sensitivity?” Kusanagi suggested.Batou shook his head, “It’s part of my intuition, I need to feel the wind direction. Like neck hair standing up before someone takes a shot at me.”“Those Ranger instincts never go away, do they?”“Nope. No matter my equipment, innate human instinct trumps it all. These sleepless eyes still give information when they fail. I know their contradictions and fail points.”“Stubborn habits. They might kill you one day,” Kusanagi added, as more banter than warning.“The Self Defense Army hasn’t marked them EOL (end of life) yet.”“I know, otherwise I would’ve forced you to upgrade already.”Batou hummed in agreement.The pilot reported in again as Section Nine assault team members clutched their equipment bags close under their seats. “Preparing for touchdown.”A harsh thunk rumbled through the cargo cabin of the tiltrotor aircraft, the Section Nine operatives mumbled to one another as the dim lighting changed to an emergency red. Batou addressed the agents, “Prepare to step off, leave nothing behind! I need six volunteers to assist with off boarding the Tachikomas, they need to be on the ground in four minutes.”Kusanagi stood up and pulled her black duffel bag out from beneath her seat, sliding by Batou as he made his announcements. She added, “I leave the think tanks in your care. I’ll debrief with Togusa and the police and see if there’s any new details.”Batou nodded in confirmation and grabbed a couple of the newer recruits by the shoulders, stragglers from the columns of exiting agents. He gave orders with a sickly grin, “You two, you’ve volunteered! Find two more each and let’s get the tanks off the tilt-copter.”Kusanagi offered a sympathetic smirk to the two voluntold and marched to the back of the tiltrotor craft. Her Section Nine subordinates were quick to recognize her approach from lithe but intentional-sounding footfalls of her combat boots as they turned and cleared a path to the bay door for her. “The Major is coming through, make a hole!”“Major. Major, ma’am,” the Section Nine agents greeted Kusanagi without salutes the way she preferred.The Major arrived at the front and pinged the pilot over her radio microphone. “We’re ready to offboard, Lieutenant Hoshino. Go ahead and lower the ramp.”“Hai, Major. Lowering the ramp now.”With a thunderous slow screech, the large, combined door-ramp unhooked from its locks and the hydraulic valves lowered the ramp down meter by meter giving Section Nine their first glimpse of early morning Sapporo by black ice and tarmac. A brilliant burst of cold wind crashed through the open gap, causing many to shiver against the sudden breeze.“Alright, Section Nine! Follow me, assemble by the ticket station over there.” The Major yelled over the wind and waved for the assault team to follow her down. She pointed the person behind her to the flaring red lights atop police cars waiting at the edge of the car park along with a green-colored station alcove. Near the police convoy of patrol cars and mine resistant trucks, a group of nondescript gray vans and extra Section Nine agents waited along with a familiar, brown mullet and dark trench coat clad Togusa waving to Kusanagi. Yet again, she could see a full suit under his jacket like some kind of ‘Aramaki Mega-Me.’ At least he wasn’t losing his hairline yet. The gray vans carried the familiar, unremarkable descriptor: Seishinkouki Co., Ltd (青心工機), one of Section Nine’s many undercover shell companies.“Welcome to Sapporo, Major!”“Togusa, glad to see you. How are things since you arrived?”Togusa shook his head as the Major stopped before him. “Nothing substantially new, but the police and the cult are both getting anxious. I think the police are expecting the worst; insiders say the cultists seem to expect something.”“Concerned about a tipoff?”“It’s possible,” Togusa admitted with a frown.Kusanagi’s frown matched her lead investigator as she continued, “Alright, can you get Reiko up here? Aramaki said she’s leading Team North now.”Togusa nodded towards a short-haired, Amazonian cyborg leaning against one of the Section Nine trucks, talking on a hand device. “Full body cyborg and former cyberbrain engineer, you’ll like her, I think. Really sharp.”“I’ve met her a couple times actually, but never long enough to make a strong impression.”Togusa shrugged, “We’re a bigger organization these last few years, finally have regional offices. And then comes the budget cuts.”The Major nodded glumly and watched Togusa give the Team North leader an inviting wave over. As Reiko approached, Kusanagi noted the cyborg woman stood a full head over her with an imposing physical height and nonregulation platform heels. She wore a fleece jacket covered by a digital camo plate carrier and dark form-fitting leggings revealing more than was reasonable for conservative Japanese fashion. Sharp militaristic edges beneath the leggings seem to confirm Togusa’s description, Reiko was a fully body convert who flaunted her form and machinery.“Good morning, Reiko, congratulations on the promotion to Team Leader,” Kusanagi supplied with a soft, sympathetic smile.Reiko didn’t show the same courtesy, only offering a tired sigh. “Thank you Major, I wish the promotion was under better circumstances.”“Your former team leader?”“Got a bid from Poseidon Industrial for a Security Ops managerial position. Pay and benefits were… four times our own.”Kusanagi pursed her lips, looking away as Togusa pinched his shirt collar in hesitancy. No one liked talking budget or salary, but everyone was feeling it. Despite their larger size, Section Nine was still able to manage a somewhat open environment. Their loose hierarchy from the Laughing Man days survived and distilled down to their new recruits in some surviving capacity. And their annual black budget hadn’t grown in two years. The spoken and unspoken realities weighed on all of them.“I’m sorry about that, but I’m glad we’re in your capable hands. Togusa tells me we’re on a sensitive time frame?”“Other than the whole Section’s countdown clock? Yeah, that too,” Reiko nodded, pulling two wires from a black box mobile server on her hip and offered them to Kusanagi and Togusa. “Connect to my lobby?”The senior officers took the offered wires and inserted them into their neck ports. The snowy backdrop of Sapporo and surrounding cacophony of police activity faded into a green-blue void of ambient data signals of Reiko’s cyber lobby and an empty virtual hall with a holographic map display at the center. Orange markers indicated the address of the primary Den Spirit compound at the intersection of the Chitose and Ishikari rivers.Several of Reiko’s seated subordinates connected to the lobby wirelessly, a few offering small waves to the new arrivals. Reiko continued, changing the central display from a Hokkaido map to online videos of Den Spirit public events. The footage was mostly unassuming: Shinto-style guest prayer ceremonies, public political demonstrations in Asahikawa, Chitose, and Sapporo, donation drives and commissioned faith services at community offices.
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 Typical of new century mystery cults (shinkō shūkyō, 新興宗教, “new religions”) types, Den Spirit embed in the local community and pursued aggressive recruitment of local business and administrative influencers. With a few key supporters as high as the provincial Diet, any political action against them will undoubtedly see blowback in Fukuoka.
Mere rumors and online condemnation are known to mobilize them as well. As Sapporo has seen increased weapon smuggling from Korea and Russia year over year by foreign mafias, we expect a heavily armed and organized response. 」Reiko deployed another display of images at a distance featuring Den Spirit members performing blessings on a wooden rack covered by infantry weapons, and military grade surveillance drones overlooking hardened, cistern domes: sharp concrete plumes like ant hills or shield volcanoes with gaps directed towards the sky.Togusa stepped up, projecting excerpts from three police reports dated to Summer 2039.
  
    TOGUSA:
  
  「 In the last seven months, Sapporo police recorded three false hostage-bomb threats traced back to Den Spirit members, a variation of the American “swatting” phenomenon. Two children lost their lives in separate suburban shooting encounters involving the city’s Special Assault Team. One incident included a confirmed hack of an officer’s optical implants.
  All incidents trace back to personal devices of members of the Den Spirit group. Sapporo detectives retrieved individual confessions but local judges blocked attempts to further pursue conspiracy charges against the cult and any affiliate organizations. Conspiracy investigations through audit of the judges turned up nothing but the cult is covering their members’ legal expenses, putting them under continued suspicion. 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 So illegal weapon possession, wiretapping, and criminal harassment. It’s good enough for a police raid but calling us in seems overkill. What of security concerns regarding the police? 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 Add manipulation of government officials to the list, but only suspected. For the police, we have sanctioned backlogs to the official police lines over the last six months with coordination of their cybersecurity and internal audit departments. Unfortunately, if there are any cultists in the police force, they cover up well. We haven’t seen any suspected cult traffic on police lines or from the local telecom providers. 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Any progress on identifying and intruding the cult’s private network? And what’s the concern with the local police leadership? 」
Reiko nodded in understanding, displaying a datasheet of the 53-year-old Sapporo police chief along with his name: Fujisawa Kyo. He was an unassuming man with a receding dark hairline yet to turn gray. He had small but sharp eyes, glaring into the camera.
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 Chief Fujisawa is a former JGSDF infantry officer and fought in the last world war’s Nemuro Landing. He’s not a fan of Public Security, or the Fukuoka government, but he’s cooperated fully in the past. It’s unclear if he or senior officers are in the cult’s pocket, but we maintain suspicion of collaborators in their ranks.
  If we want to have the cult’s main facility fully secure, we need to do this before the sun is fully visible. Cloud cover can buy us a little time, but I would say we have three hours at best. By 1100 hours, it will be warm enough for neighbors to step outside and fly drones. By 1300 hours, temperatures will be at ice melt. 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 We better move quickly then; driving will eat up time. Modify the planned joint mobile briefing for the police and our assault team, we’ll have to perform it on the move. Scrub anything of case sensitivity and we’ll need to designate personnel to watch the police traffic. And is there anything I should know of significant sensitivity before this all goes down? 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 My team can handle the local network domination side of things, no problem. I think you’re mostly caught up to speed but I’ve interfaced the relevant memory data if anything comes up. Let me know if you have any questions too. 」
Kusanagi’s physical body gave the mildest of shivers as she felt a 48-gigabyte collection of select memories flash over the fiberoptic wire and land in her cyberbrain. She didn’t need to parse or sort through the work of Reiko’s six-person squad as the memories became indistinguishable from her own. Some residual emotions and late-night stress burned from the collection and accented by the smell of coffee, of people still present and others who already left Section Nine for safer careers. The electric symphony of experiences correlated into two words for the Major: “melancholy” and “doubt.” She nodded to Reiko as she had no questions.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Thank you. Coordinate with Ishikawa and Borma for cyberwar and network security. 」
  
    TOGUSA:
  
  「 I’ll get a briefing together and we might have to meet with... Major, do you see— 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「Chief Fujisawa approaching. Yeah, I’m disconnecting. 」
With a sharp zap, the Major pulled the fiberoptic wire from her neck and drew her violet eyes to a high-ranking police officer with Fujisawa’s face in a dark dress uniform, gold shoulder bars, and a dark, throw-on plate carrier.“—Disconnecting.” Togusa grunted, disengaging from Reiko’s cyber lobby.Putting out a firm hand, Kusanagi took two steps and met the Sapporo police chief with a firm handshake.“Chief Fujisawa, it is nice to meet you. I’m Major Kusanagi Motoko from Public Security Section Nine. I’ll be responsible for today’s ground operation.”The police chief gave a grunt at first, attempting to experimentally squeeze down on Kusanagi’s fingers. After only minor success and the Major squeezing back on his organic hand, he let go with a smile. “Hmm. You’re stronger than you look, Major Kusanagi. I can tell, you’re a full conversion cyborg?”Kusanagi nodded, forcing her polite smile through the unrelated remark. “Well, yes. I hope we can resolve this anti-terrorism concern quickly for you.”“Yes, that would be great. Though I suspect even if we’re successful I will be dealing with the consequences for years after. You’re the Prime Minister’s bagwoman, right? I’m in good hands?” Fujisawa’s smile drooped into a frown.The Major looked sideways at Togusa and Reiko before simply returning another nod to the police chief. Neither Reiko or Togusa seem to have an answer for the comment, based on their embarrassed and confused looks. Reiko added a neural communications whisper:
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 He’s a little too friendly. Honestly, Fujisawa is always hard to read from my interactions with him. 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Friendly might be the wrong adjective. 」
“I’m sorry if that title is problematic. Section Nine has a reputation is all. You were at Nemuro, yes?”Kusanagi shrugged. “I’m sure many were at the Nemuro landing, it was a textbook combined arms operation. I hear it’s still taught at the Bodai Officer Academy.”“I suppose so. Your name is familiar though. Not that it’s a real one either,” Fujisawa smirked.The Major smiled on, sweetly. “Well, I’ve debriefed with my local commanders here and we’re ready to head out. Assuming you are? I’m told we are short on time.” “I suppose so. Do you intend to catch them in this cold? You should know their complex is well heated, like igloos. They might have concrete domes but the structural designs retain heat well. Temperatures and winter combat won’t be to your advantage, you should expect close quarters instead.”“You’ve been to their facility, Chief Fujisawa?”Fujisawa sighed, scratching his uniformed shoulder. “On several occasions. I’ve received two tours of the complex in fact. Once when it was still a dual use facility for hydroelectricity and mixed contents, water purification. The old utility company went under following a Russian ransomware attack; reported the issue too late and couldn’t pay the government fines or civil charges. Den Spirit bought the site in 2026 and revitalized it as Akiya (空き家) Power Solutions.“An ‘empty house?’ Like Akiya Bank?” Kusanagi asked, “That’s an odd name.”“The concrete domes are former wastewater and micromachine basins. According to their leader Remuda, they still use some as clean water processors but they converted them for business and public joint ventures. They sometimes use the domes for sermons too.”Kusanagi nodded, “Thank you, your knowledge will be useful to this operation. Do you plan to join us at the compound?”The Sapporo police chief widen his eyes in alarm, once more scratching at his shoulder.“Oh no, I would hate to intrude. This is your jurisdiction, Major. If the National Police Commission says a specialized team is taking over, I trust them to handle things.” Fujisawa continued after a pause, “That said, my people are rather loyal to me. I would hate to create confusion in the ranks during such a precarious operation. But if I can be of help, please do let me know.”“Well, we plan to brief our teams on the drive. If you and your sergeants could listen in, we’d appreciate any additional input.”Fujisawa gave a slight bow, “Of course Major, I will head back to my office but Miss Reiko has my secure line. You can patch us in and we’ll provide what we can.”Togusa spoke up suddenly, drawing the two leaders’ attention. “That name Remuda, it’s the organization founder. But it’s not a Japanese name? During our research, we couldn’t find a proper name for the organization leader. He officially registers properties and businesses under the given name despite the current fraud laws.”“Aw, yes. In the national census, he is Remuda but it’s a Western term converted awkwardly from Romaji and means nothing. One of my foreign friends once told me it means a ‘herd of domesticated horses’ in Spanish, an old ranching term.”“What can you tell us of the founder’s personal life?” Togusa further inquired.“Mister Togusa, was it? You’re the lead investigator?”Togusa nodded and shot the Major a quick glance. She shrugged, “It was nice to meet you, Chief Fujisawa, thank you for the information and Togusa can continue to parallel with you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to muster my men. Reiko, please get the Special Assault Team switched to the shared Section Nine cyber lobby.”
  
    TOGUSA:
  
  「 I’ll keep an eye on him. 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Thanks, Togusa. Remember I need you in the field as well when the shooting starts. 」
  
    TOGUSA:
  
  「 I wouldn’t dare miss our last rodeo. 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 I’ll need a few minutes, just have everyone get into the vehicles. Will we have tiltrotor support? 」
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Limited at best. Do the domes give you the impression of faraday cages? I would expect mixed copper or fiber optic lining to prevent tampering with micromachine assembly. We should operate under the assumption external networking won’t work. 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 Understood Major, I’ll make do. Fujisawa told us the same during prior meetings. Still, I worry about their external communications… 」
Reiko’s voice leaked into the material world as the Team North leader’s eyes trailed to the tiltrotor’s topside, triangle electronic warfare dish. “…To think my last day in the office. I finally get a chance to play with an integrated Deadeye Array. Ishikawa you better not hog—"Kusanagi made a hurried walk back to her assault team’s assembly area, patting Batou and the said Ishikawa on the shoulders. She couldn’t help noticing Ishikawa rubbing his reddened nose for an undetermined reason. Coincidence of spiritual comedy? Refocusing, the Major called out over hushed whispering to get the whole unit’s attention.“We’re on an even tighter schedule. We have a 45-minute drive to reach the Akiya Power Solutions facility, the main site for the Den Spirit organization. The mission clock already started as we aim to secure the hydroelectric station in under three hours and no more. Any later and we can expect locals to become aware of this operation.Our goal is to secure the Den Spirit main site without public notice to minimize the Interior Ministry’s need to address later inquiry. We won’t have the benefit of a press blackout for this reason. A proper mission brief will occur over secure cyber lobby with the Sapporo SAT in attendance along with leadership from their subprefecture police department. Please maintain information sensitivity accordingly. Any questions?”A few assault team members mentioned a quick bathroom break but for the most part they were ready to go. The Major had Ishikawa take responsibility moving the Section Nine troops aboard their armored cargo vans. “Hai Major, Assault Team One will ride in the van there. Assault Team Two will ride in the one behind it.”Batou paused, continuing to stand next to Kusanagi as the alcove was once more vacant.“So Togusa smooth things over?”Kusanagi nodded. “It seems so. He and the Sapporo police chief are on speaking terms, but there’s a lot we still don’t know about the police. But Togusa’s brilliant, he’ll uncover any surprises. But I can’t say the same about this operation.”“I suppose this relates to what you said earlier on the bird?”The Major shook her head but her answer was the opposite. “Yes… actually. These short timetables, working until the last minute, from one situation to the next. Whatever happens after, we hand over responsibility of the cult to the local police and to the National Police Agency. It feels wrong for us not to see cases through to the end. I wonder, if I didn’t come back, maybe things could have turned out better? Togusa as field commander wouldn’t seem so bad, especially if the alternative is Section Nine remains operational with full authority.”“That’s a stupid what-if, and you know that...”The Major shook her head, “Come on Batou, let’s just get moving. You can complain later.”“I might take a bullet just so I don’t have to hear you whine again,” Batou grumbled.Kusanagi’s head rotated on Batou as a twitch crept up to her right eye. “Whine? Seriously?”Batou flashed a small grin. “That’s a little better. The problem with you is you’re all highs and lows, Major. Always so confident, and then you take a hit on your soft side that gets you all mopey. Come back or not, there’s no way to know how things would turn out. What’s really got you down?”The Major turned silent, heaving a long sigh, and quietly called over her Tachikoma. Climbing aboard the small spider tank, she looked at Batou again.“What this is… I didn’t prepare well enough for an alternative to Section Nine.”Batou frowned but climbed aboard his own Tachikoma to the point only their heads were in view of one another. Behind them, the Section Nine vans and Sapporo police trucks were warming into sudden activity.“You were always talking about being ready to find a different sponsor if things soured. What changed?”“The Prime Minister’s budget cuts, downsizing cabinet departments. I don’t have the means to accommodate for our team anymore. The likely agencies and joint ventures are going too. Because Section Nine is the size of a small corporation now, it’s not like I can uproot us and go join other Public Security Sections. What about our other members? Azuma, or Reiko? What happens to them?”Batou shook his head, “That’s not your call. It’s for the Chief to decide.”“We used to make those decisions together. He had to adopt a human resources unit to keep up with our growing organization.” Kusanagi paused, looking away from Batou in the direction of deep, snowy fields below the crowded parking lot overlooking Sapporo’s outskirts. “The Chief always means well. But even that old Ape can’t protect us from everything, all at once.”“It doesn’t really sound like you have a grudge against the old man,” Batou said softly.“I don’t. But I’m allowed to be unhappy when doors start to close.”“Maybe you were right,” Batou mumbled softly. “We should discuss this later. Going to need some alcohol for that one.”Kusanagi offered him a reserved ‘I told you so’ look. “I don’t remember the last time any of us worried about job security. But you take point on the drive into the cult’s facility. I’ll stay at center and start the briefing; I’ll worry about the other thing later.”“Hai, Major.”The pair of combat cyborgs lowered themselves into their spider tank abdominal cabins and listened for the signature hiss of sealing doors. Kusanagi shut her artificial, violet eyes for a period as Musashi, her personal Tachikoma, completed one more self-diagnostic. A soft warble confirmed satisfactory performance after a few seconds. Opening her eyes, Kusanagi rode along and watched the assembled Sapporo Police-Public Security convoy roll off towards Akiya Power Solutions. The car park disappeared into dust and wet sleet kicked up behind the heavy vehicles.Through Musashi’s aluminum shell, Kusanagi felt the rumbling of asphalt and gravel under its thin, fragile-looking wheels. Unlike traditional tanks, Tachikoma were light and quiet for police work and used an efficient, buggy engine instead of gas guzzlers—unlike the delayed, roaring engines of the MRAP heavy trucks, or the typhoon whirling of the Section Nine tiltrotor as it too took off again into the sky. Satisfied with her external camera feeds of the road and staring into the aluminum bumper of a Section Nine armored van, the Major engaged her distributed lobby joining once more with cyberspace.Less than a hundred shadowed heads hovered or sat at the edges of the Major’s virtual reality chatroom. Batou, Reiko, Ishikawa, Togusa, and many familiar Section Nine faces were present. Chief Fujisawa sat with his own police sergeants, separated from the Section Nine senior officers.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Thank you all for joining us. This debrief will address the Den Spirit group and mission to detain leadership and secure their main facility. This will be a rough overview of our operational jurisdiction under the national terrorism law, and what all parties are responsible in performing. The operation has already begun due to limitations of the weather and rules of engagement outlined by the National Police Agency and Interior Ministry. Togusa, your turn. 」
The mullet-headed lead investigator nodded and rose to the virtual stage, filling in what Section Nine and the police Special Assault Team needed to know about their government-designated adversary. Kusanagi was already familiar with the information and then some as Togusa’s words blended into a dull concerto of keywords and recognized phrases where the Major filled in the details for her half-present mind.
  
    TOGUSA:
  
  「 Detective Reiko’s Team North will act as the C2 control unit, Major Kusanagi will be on-site commander. We’ll divide the operation into two task forces, a ‘warrant’ team, and a ‘assault’ team. This will allow us to maximize our options and avoid unnecessary escalation or incidents.
  I will lead the warrant team made up of mostly Sapporo officers, Section Nine’s Team North arresting officers, and myself. It will account a quarter of our manpower and approach the facility’s main entrance.
  The assault team will account for the rest of our force, including the C2 control unit and led by Major Kusanagi. They will approach the facility from the sides and the riverfront to corral and eliminate methods of escape. 」
Togusa’s presentation flicked to a display of a satellite camera’s overhead view of Akiya Power Solutions. The warrant team would approach with a good number of the convoy vehicles and a single Tachikoma tank and present their warrant provided by a judge in the Justice Ministry who owed Chief Aramaki a favor. Even if Sapporo or other Hokkaido judges were unable or unwilling to deal with the Den Spirit, Section Nine would cut through to address it.Meanwhile, the convoy would let off the other five Tachikoma along with the remaining Sapporo SAT and Section Nine operatives along neighboring roads on private farmland to trek through snow and under tree cover onto the Den Spirit property line.
  
    TOGUSA:
  
  「 Anyone missing cold weather training or with cold weather health concerns, please let your team leaders know ahead of time and we will reassign people to the warrant team. We expect the march to take ten minutes to reach the property line and within reach of the facility structures itself. The terrain is flat but we’re dealing with unpacked snowfall, be careful on the approach. 」
Kusanagi eyed the crowd and noted three, or four SAT operatives wink warning yellow lights in the crowd, grabbing mild attention from comrades and commanding officers but nothing of major concern. She whispered to her personal Tachikoma, “Musashi, can you read up on the health and training records of the winter-adverse agents in SAT? Check their team leaders too for any Den Spirit connections too.”“Hai, Major.”It wasn’t a priority concern, but vetting who slotted in with Togusa was worth a second look over. Security wise, Sapporo SAT was still an unknown risk factor in the operation. And percentage wise, the warrant team would have the highest portion of SAT personnel and significantly outnumber Section Nine’s arresting officers. If there was any compromise, Togusa’s team would be making first contact with Den Spirit and would be in the thick of things if they blew up. It could easily turn into a front door hostage situation, or lead to casualties from saboteurs.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Saito. Wake up, I can feel you dozing off. I need you listening to this part. 」
The Section Nine designated marksman’s vitals spiked for a second before cooling again from sudden surprise.
  
    SAITO:
  
  「 Uh. Uh huh. I’m on him, no problem. Major, I know my place. And you’re one to talk. 」
Light static from his neural connection zapped the Major back, a small act of rebellion from the eyepatch man. Kusanagi didn’t respond to the childish behavior but sent him a mental image of distaste.
  
    SAITO:
  
  「 Yeah, yeah. You’re built different, Queen Kong. Sorry… I’ll paying attention. 」
Kusanagi turned elsewhere once more, letting the rare but well-known insult slide. Instead, she admired the rising walls of snow on both sides of the Hokkaido roadway and made some last-minute maneuver suggestions over a virtual reality simulation of the Akiya Power Solutions compound.“Major, none of the mentioned SAT operators you requested inspection of have apparent Den Spirit ties.” Musashi reported. The AI tank received a warm, motherly sensation from the Major. She didn’t say anything, tuned in and out of multiple places at once. Togusa was discussing relevant histories of the cult and their founder now.Regarding the Den Spirit organization, they settled in the farm region east of Sapporo after the renewed Korean War using business seed money to start and acquire pachinko parlors in the Ishikari River valley. The founders were veterans of the United Nations-Korea coalition “peacekeeping” forces (PKF) and received funding from the Defense Ministry’s veteran support fund through the 2020s. They broke into land resale and auto-farming soon after, pushing out their debt-lined pachinko customers.Because of the Korean War, a significant refugee crisis swept into Japan and Northeast China. Missing people, human trafficking, and exploitation. Mass boat sinkings. Anti-refugee and anti-nationalist protests, and riots. Familiar windfalls of the crises followed: drugs, disease, malnutrition, food and housing shortages, and intersectional violence.Kusanagi huffed to herself at the long tapestry of suffering her country served as a canvas for. Her loyalties to the idea of “Japan,” muddied over the years but her job as the “Prime Minister’s bagwoman” gave her a sharp, unfiltered awareness of the state’s shortcomings.
  “Softer hearts broke long ago looking at this home of ours. Kuze wandered the Continent and found his loyalty with the downtrodden rather than his countrymen. And what of me?”
There was a quiet snap in her synthetic heart, like the strum of an over-whined guitar string. Not physical but thrumming with dangerous tension. Not towards conflict, but a cloud of melancholy. Kusanagi was here before, but in a different state of mind. Racing down Fukuoka’s highways then, or farm roads outside Sapporo now in a Tachikoma, once more the Major felt lost. The first time after the Solid State incident, she left Section Nine to break out as a cyberwarfare freelancer, and to escape from her creeping helplessness.Now, she was watching Section Nine shutdown around her. Her mission was, had been, to fight and solve crime. Fight for a common good. But the unsurmountable mountain continued to climb skyward, the mounting crises kept pushing. Did any of her police work amount to something meaningful? With or without Section Nine? The unit had been her job, her home for more than two decades. Why and where would she escape to this time?She put away the virtual reality map of the hydroelectric station and zoned in on the roadside snowbanks. In this part of Sapporo, the land was flat and the temperature cold and stable, increasing the average snowfall. It packed together and didn’t melt away in the late winter. She watched civilian cars cautiously drive by, slowing as their passengers took pictures of the snowbanks. What started as a quarter meter of snow, became three or four meters high, rising over the tops of the police MRAPs. In the central Japanese Alps, such snow walls could climb to twenty meters. It was a peaceful drive, but the winter storm still raged inside Kusanagi. The promise of endless crisis. What bothered her especially?Kusanagi didn’t see value, or opportunity. She felt eternity.But such crises did give opportunity and raise a fraudulent name as a legitimate shepherd for a quarter century. If the Major were to lose from circumstance, someone out there was bound to win out. Someone cut from different cloth, and different hearts. Not a light and dark difference, rather a thin veil of emotion. Kusanagi didn’t pretend to understand him, but she could maybe understand his story. Enter the name of prominence: Yuuka Remuda. As Togusa illuminated before, it was not a name native to the Kanji or Hiragana alphabets. Yuuka was a Japanese personal name, but Remuda was vaguely Spanish. Hokkaido had a long history with Western influence as Hakodate at the southern end of the island became one of Japan’s first treaty ports in 1854, and Westerners like rancher Edwin Dun influenced industrial development during the Meiji Restoration and again in the post-World War Two reconstruction eras.If the Westerners influenced Hokkaido back then, it was Western soundalikes defining Hokkaido now. Yuuka Remuda was a supposed forty-three-year-old man born and raised in Hokkaido; his digital birth certificate put him in the more central, rural town of Furano in 1996. He was a long brown-haired man with large spectacles and wore dark, loose clothing that seem to bridge the qualities of a drab Chinese tunic suit, often called a “Zhongshan” or “Mao suit,” and ordained Kasaya monk robes associated with Buddhism. He was often present in such attire, suggesting the Den Spirit leader had a wardrobe full of them and worn over jungle pants, sometimes with combat boots or indoor shoes depending on the pictures and videos.The assembly of footage displayed the mystic and his followers practicing basic squad and platoon-level maneuvering tactics pulled from the Self Defense Army’s infantry officer manual. His followers, women, and men alike, wore the mixed formal-informal religious wear, integrating casual blue jeans and workout tights depending on the person. Sandals and sneakers, American M4 carbines and Russian AKM rifles. Communism, Buddhism, naturalism, corporatism, capitalism, branding, cyberization. There was little to uniquely define the Den Spirit’s inner culture and belief system from items and icons of a million different places. It seems their only true union was the personal magnetism of Remuda. And yet, who was Yuuka Remuda?Kusanagi had this wealth of knowledge of the mysterious cult leader, including the collected feelings of distaste from her fellow police officers thanks to Reiko’s team. But the sum of the information didn’t seem to account for enough. They were a militant organization, they upset the status quo. Sure, fine. But…Maybe she was avoiding the greater question. She knew why. ‘Why was Section Nine here?’ The question’s answer was two parts – one simple, another complex. Because of orders. Because of politics, politics to which she wasn’t privy. The latter made for a scarier answer: the fear of the unknown. Unknowns meant chance and probability. Randomness invited surprise, and danger. Blind action leading to blind consequence.In all her years as a military hacker, Kusanagi could attack and breach any network or system. She could hijack cybernetic bodies and tamper with individual minds under the right legal circumstances. She had all these powers of her skills and station, but no number of technical skills was going to illuminate the imaginations of geniuses and the machinations of collectives.Kusanagi’s eyes wandered from her familiar group of Section Nine operatives to the face and then the back of Chief Fujisawa’s balding and plated, cybernetic skull. It was her cyber lobby, no one seem the wiser to her odd perplexities. The retired infantry officer was quiet, eyes glued to Togusa and switching to other speakers of occasional input like Ishikawa or Reiko. Sometimes a Sapporo SAT team leader would speak up for further elaboration and Fujisawa’s eyes followed.The Major’s curiosity might be off the mark, but Chief Fujisawa’s attentiveness and silence left her on edge. For someone reported as government-adverse, he seemed to go along fine. She could hack him. She could cover her tracks. She could connect, parallel, and steal all the intelligence she wanted. But it wouldn’t allow her to “know” him.Kusanagi paralleled data with more than a few unique individuals over the years, learning their beings and intimate secrets fully. And yet all it did was make her a poor imitation of their past. Like an old print photograph, developing once exposed to open air but surely trapped in the moment.Fujisawa could be innocent. Or maybe he wouldn’t be. D@mning evidence could hide away somewhere in his external memory server. Or maybe it rested just below the surface of his skin. Could he be in the cult’s pocket? Or was this operation someone else’s gambit? Confidence in evidence didn’t necessarily lead to good outcomes. Breaking the law certainly did not.The human mind in the era of artificial intelligence remained mysterious, ever changing, a reflection of a fluid reality itself. Cybernetic or otherwise, something about humans remained organic even when translated into silicon and chrome. From the depths of human minds and collective imagination outflowed the wonders and miracles of human civilization. And eventually the Internet, and the Sea of Information.It was wonderous how billions of connected minds could create such a complex and infinitely problematic machine. Maybe it was the greatest standalone complex of all, in a manner of speaking. And Remuda, where did he fit in the grand equation? Where did Major Kusanagi Motoko, or Chief Fujisawa fit into the equation? What made others want to follow them, or follow her?Her thoughts became a scattered whirlwind of emotion and little substance. Lost even to her, caught on a proverbial wind. She left her casual Hokkaido landscape and virtual meeting forgotten on the periphery of her mind. Her virtual hands drifted towards the sparkling connection of Fujisawa’s cybernetic mind. Would she find the answer to her concerns there? It would be another illegal act for a legitimate operation, but the line between right and wrong became fluid like her thoughts when under the threat of outsiders. She needed her people safe, just one more operation. For Batou, for Togusa, her people. Just one more time and today could be over.Kusanagi froze. An icy hand plunged into the darkness; the material world came calling back.
  “Major? Major Kusanagi?”
Kusanagi shivered as she felt distant eyes fall on her. Saito sent over a sensation of roughing her shoulder in the cyber lobby, luckily over a private channel.
  
    SAITO:
  
  「 Come on, Major. You’re setting a bad example. 」
Kusanagi tsked at her subordinate, biting her lip in embarrassment as the feeling one pair of eyes sharpened into an attentive and full audience.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Don’t let them know that… 」
  
    SAITO:
  
  「 I wouldn’t dream of it, but the Sapporo Chief has a remark. 」
  
    FUJISAWA:
  
  「 Major, might I make a last-minute change to your operation? 」
Focusing back on the Sapporo police chief, his moving lips, and spoken words, not his mind. He was offering an apologetic smile, soft and considerate. A flip from his off color and blunt behavior in the cold earlier. Did she spook him? Did he notice? The Major simply nodded, doing her best to save face and not appear lost in a daydream, or midway through a hacking attempt.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 What do you have in mind, Chief? 」
  
    FUJISAWA:
  
  「 I’ve already sent them ahead; I apologize in advance for the lack of warning. I note you have six, riot-grade spider tanks, so I’ve requisitioned some heavy-lift quad drones from our Emergency Search and Rescue department. They should meet you before your arrival at the Den Spirit facility. 」
An image flickered onto the virtual stage of eight quadrotor drones, black in color and pickup truck sized. They each came with four optional, mounting hardpoints.
  
    FUJISAWA:
  
  「 They’re rated to lift a small car and should be able to carry your Tachikoma and our operators over the snow and cutdown on wasted time. I would prefer not to have my people stuck in the cold for too long and I figure it might help augment your options. 」
Kusanagi nodded, pursing her lips at the sudden change of plans but the incredible convenience the new aerial assets offered was enticing.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Thank you, Chief Fujisawa. We’ll take them. You’re very considerate. 」
The Sapporo police chief offered a professional nod back. But then he paused and shook his head, as if debating himself. He swapped to private channel, only including his senior officers and Section Nine’s onsite command staff.
  
    FUJISAWA:
  
  「 You’re helping us, it’s the least I can offer. I had trouble thinking of appropriate resources to help during the briefing. However, I can tell you run a certainly tight ship. Good people, good budget, and resources. I must admit I am somewhat jealous but such resources only come with people of proven capability, and someone who took great risks and provided results under fire.
  I—we need this to work. It would be unsafe of me or my station to publicly speak ill of the Den Spirit organization. 」
Kusanagi balked at the sudden change in personality. The man spoke clearly over the cyber lobby connection but it dripped with a tone of heavy fatigue.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 What is your concern, Chief Fujisawa? Are you compromised in some manner? 」
The police chief shook his head, his face and eyes seeming to darken and age ten years in two seconds.
  
    FUJISAWA:
  
  「 No, no. Nothing like that. But I have two children. My daughter was friends with a boy who lost his life in one swatting incident. I attended the funeral; I faced the mother who lost her son. And Yuuka Remuda has the gall to talk about the children’s deaths in his online sermons as if they lived on his version of an afterlife. Martyring other’s children as victims to his faith.
  The Den Spirit are a kind of people willing to hurt children over a harmless online spat. And Remuda is a very private person, I’ve seen him leave the power station twice in my time on the police force. Whatever he’s done there, I believe he’s created a personal fortress but to what goal I do not know. I just want this mystery unraveled and his influence cleared from my court and community. 」
Kusanagi imprinted a deep frown on her face, her lips forming a tight line in concern. What could she say to that? Her security concern mostly evaporated into a man afraid for his own people. In terms of criminal activity, Remuda’s cult hardly made the list of extreme, unusual, or grotesque offenders. They didn’t even make the list of outright criminals.And yet, his name paralyzed the chief sentinel of Sapporo. Put fear into the mind of a hardened military veteran who fought against Russian mecha-marines at Nemuro.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 We’ll do what we can, Chief Fujisawa. Section Nine doesn’t leave cases half finished. We won’t fail you. 」
The Major’s words felt like fire as they left her lips, imagining her manifested kanji igniting into smoke as a signal of her sweet lies. The police chief didn’t seem to detect any falsehoods, leaning back and letting out a pent-up sigh seeming of dread and maybe a distant, growing hope. She hated doing that. More so than ever before, she was facing the feeling of a time clock than a salary. Her career ended when the workday ended.Kusanagi glanced at the virtual clock on her heads-up display (HUD). About seven hours before sunset in Fukuoka. Orders from the National Police Agency wanted Section Nine’s Fukuoka team gone from their public offices before sunset. A flight back would take three hours. She felt her lips faintly mutter “not enough time” in the material world where only her Tachikoma could hear.Despite the police chief’s outburst of concern and thawing personality, she couldn’t separate her prior concerns about Den Spirit saboteurs. The police chief might not know or be complicit, but he had the access to know. Beset by population decline in tandem with increasing technical literacy, Japanese society continued to lay more responsibility at the feet of individuals. Kusanagi ran Section Nine in the field from her own cyberbrain, using her body as a command-and-control network module. The situation should be the same with Sapporo police to an extent.Ishikawa was speaking up now, following the Major’s promise to Chief Fujisawa. It was a good distraction…
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 We’re now in sight of the Akiya Power Solutions facility. I can see their security quad drones along the perimeter along with the micromachine basins. Two minutes to arrival. What’s your drone ETA time? 」
Kusanagi pushed her mind towards the police chief’s connection to her cyber lobby. Opening her barrier console, she ran a vulnerability check against Fujisawa’s guest account.His public network address diffused through Sapporo thanks to the Police virtual private network (VPN) but was easy enough to pin down to downtown Sapporo, near the prefecture headquarters. Their service provider, OCN, marked his connection as external 86.143.25.13, compared to Kusanagi’s internal 192.168.0.2. He used the standard National Police Agency cryptographic certificate which was easy to intercept since he had to handshake with Reiko’s team through their tiltrotor electronic warfare suite. She took a breath and prepared to dive a little deeper…
  
    FUJISAWA:
  
  「 Three minutes. I think it would be okay to split the convoy at this time since the assault team will be the only ones in need of the airlift. 」
Ishikawa hummed in agreement, nodding over to Kusanagi for input.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 I agree with that assessment. Let’s get the teams setup for the security cordon. Reiko, how long do you need for network domination? I want Den Spirit blind but unaware while we circle around back. 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 We’ll be ready anytime, we’ve yet to try and buzz their perimeter network but we expect few hiccups. We’re also circling at 8,000 feet above the river valley. It’s a suspicious height to seasoned military but it shouldn’t be apparent to the civilian neighbors. We can go lower if needed, also Major— 」
Reiko suddenly swapped channels, drawing a confused looked from Ishikawa but subtle enough no one else caught Reiko’s slip.
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 I see you’re tapping the police net. Going to back hack Chief Fujisawa? 」
Kusanagi offered an apologetic twitch of her lips.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Better safe than sorry… 」
The Section Nine cybernetics engineer hummed an affirmative and kept an observant eye beside Kusanagi as one of the Major’s digital twins haunted the unified cyber lobby, and another probed across Reiko’s commandeered tiltrotor EW suite. Ishikawa was shooting them both odd side looks as some of Fujisawa’s subordinates began to confirm their teams offloading from MRAPs in the material world.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Sorry Ishikawa, just want to make sure of something… 」
The ancient Section Nine hacker fired off a greenlight acknowledgement and said nothing. Her people trusted her. When the Major set her mind on something, they went with it. Her ghost was a trusted quantity. And so were theirs. Trust went both ways, between the subordinates and their seasoned commander.
  Decrypting the NPA certificate... Tracing the SSH connection and downloading a digital twin into the Sapporo local police network. Kusanagi wouldn’t use her Chroma persona file, too personal… Which hacker persona to use…
Kusanagi froze in place. Earlier, she felt the clasp of a cold hand in her cyber lobby. The hand became a vine, curling into infinity. She felt it again. It was here, both in the police intranet and the Section Nine field network. The movement wasn’t her, or Saito. Not by Chief Fujisawa. Not Batou, Reiko, or Ishikawa.Someone else. Something else. It was in her cyber lobby, in her system.A distant voice, eking out choice words one at a time. It called out, seeming to breath between words through the release of extent data packets. The endless vine became rough and worn, coiling close and afar. Stem becoming bark. Moving, transforming.
  Major… Major Kusanagi Motoko…
The voice spoke louder, no longer a feeling but audio addressing Kusanagi directly.“So… much… noise… in this instance. Body. Mind. Cyberbrain. New terminal found. Kusanagi Motoko, Major. Public Security Section Nine.”She made a small assessment error. She felt an icy clasp in her system earlier, thinking it was one of her own network protocols. A touch of an ally. She didn’t notice the virtual snake shifting its scales as it slunk all around her cyber lobby. It cut winding data paths around the Section Nine operatives. Around the Sapporo SAT police operatives. Around Kusanagi’s command staff. Around Fujisawa and his senior police officers.It spoke again: more clear, more direct, more malicious. Was it in her system, or was Kusanagi in the net creature’s lobby instead?“Blossom child, wrought with doubt. You enter the terminus of god’s country. Have you come to seek guidance, or harmonize in the song of our flock?”A single bell chimed in a far-off distance of the cyber fog. Snakeskin shifted and shallow water splashed, unseen. The dreamlike vision seemed to solidify by the second.Kusanagi made a very human-like imitation of gulping in fear. Where the instinct came from, she did not know. Maybe imitating an old movie, or a line in a story? Or were humans born with innate physical reactions to strong emotion? Swallowing her surprise and sudden fear, she spoke up.“I…If this is the kingdom of heaven… What is the price of a Sapporo double cheeseburger?”The net creature curled, shifting as if thinking over the question.“Bloss—”Kusanagi spun around and faced down Reiko in cyberspace, blowing past private and segmented chats to yell on all available cyber lobby channels.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 REIKO! COLLAPSE THE NETWORK! 」
Kusanagi’s eyes darted back to the vision and gasped a happy cheer as the fog retreated and creature vanished in a sudden flicker. Mouth agape, she clinched down on her synthetic tongue in cyberspace and reality as a sudden spike of static pierced her cyberbrain top to bottom.Throughout the cyber lobby, other users across the ranks of Section Nine and Sapporo SAT clutched their heads in sudden, writhing pain. “Awk,” people cried and groaned out in distress. Their own virtual avatars vanishing one by one, until in masse, Kusanagi was alone. An empty theater removed of visitors. The virtual screen upfront still displayed an image of Chief Fujisawa’s quad drones.Blinking uncomfortably, Kusanagi raised a hand to her forehead and noted the pain was gone as soon as it appeared. Checking her status, she spotted her network status changed subconsciously in the moment to ‘Standalone Mode.’ She lost her network connection to the Section Nine field network, but it wasn’t a total loss. She flicked her hand in her personal cyber lobby and confirmed on a log panel for security events, she closed the connection herself.“Musashi. Can you hear me?”The Tachikoma warbled twice before speaking up in its agender, toddler-like voice. “We’re alright Major! The network suddenly shutoff but the Tachikoma subnet failover server rebooted and we’re up and running again.”Blinking a bit, the Major flipped through the control panel of her spider tank and began an offline vulnerability scan. “Restart the network handshake with the tiltrotor and give me Radio Line Two for Reiko’s team. Run a self-diagnostic on the failover server. Make sure the software signature hashes are the same as prior to today’s deployment.”“What time stamp do you want us to check against?”“Try forty-eight hours or older, just to be safe.”The Tachikoma shook out a physical mock salute despite her inability to see the cute display of loyalty while in the abdominal pilot chamber. The Major finally allowed herself a careful sigh as the fuzzy confirmation of radio connection kicked in.“Major? Major, can you hear me? Is everything alright?”“I’m here, Reiko. Has Ishikawa reconnected to the Section Nine virtual network?”The gruff voice of the older hacker popped in, “I’m here too, Major. What was that shock… My brain is ringing…”Kusanagi sighed. “I, or we, got back hacked. I think Remuda was in my cyber lobby. I’m reconnecting to the network right now; I’ll show you the logs.”
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 Alright, I see your connected back now. Reiko, go ahead and follow the incident response framework. We’re going to half ass this thing since we still got an operation to complete… Right, Major? 」
Kusanagi nodded as her skin suited form materialized into the shared cyber lobby, log panel materialized and passing over to Ishikawa’s hairy and weathered face.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 Yeah, mission is still a go. Prioritize rebuilding the network in lockdown mode. Segment the assault and warrant teams to their own subnets and create an ad hoc hierarchy for our communications back to Sapporo police HQ. Get Fujisawa back on the line when we’re secure. 」
Reiko fired off a greenlight affirmative, turning slightly transparent and sluggish in the cyber lobby to dedicate more data packets towards repairing Section Nine’s C2 network.
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 Damn Major, this thing hit you hard. You suddenly have three hundred ports open. This dialogue doesn’t even sound human, maybe it was an AI or something? 」
Spinning back to Ishikawa, Kusanagi’s violet eyes glared at her ancient subordinate. She didn’t mean any offense at his remark, but she felt a deep foreboding. Her fists squeezed down on the metal control sticks of her Tachikoma, causing Musashi to yelp in warning. Pulling up her personal firewall panel in the cyber lobby, she burned through menus faster than her virtual fingers could keep up and rewrote the rule sets to lock them down to her personal operating standard.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 I was the only one that heard and saw that thing, right? 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 Sorry Major, I was watching your police network dive but I didn’t see or hear Remuda… 」
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 Well, you didn’t go crazy. I’m seeing the data in the event logs. I… I don’t know how he got in but I’ve identified sixty-seven malicious events relating to remote connection queries. You sure this was Remuda, Major? 」
Kusanagi frowned, moving to hover behind Ishikawa as he looked over the security event logs in cyberspace.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 These are ports I locked down… 」
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 I’m guessing one or more of the police officers had an unidentified root kit on them. The attack initiated during the briefing in your cyber lobby. It tried to go after the Sapporo police chief when you tried diving him too. 」
Raising a pair of fingers to her forehead, Kusanagi mumbled a silent curse at herself for almost giving the enemy further access.
  
    KUSANAGI:
  
  「 And what about us? Our command-and-control team alright? No back hacks on our end? 」
Ishikawa scratched his beard, contemplating the questions as he scrolled over more data logs.
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 I think we’re alright. I apologize for the brain freeze earlier; I had my team fire off Deadeye Array just to be certain we burned out the intrusion. 」
Ishikawa blinked twice in surprise before warping into a twitching frustration.
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 You used an all-band signal jammer on our own people? Jeez. You’re one crazy cyberwarfare officer, Lady! 」
  
    REIKO:
  
  「 I didn’t kill anyone, did I? 」
Ishikawa raised an halting palm as Reiko’s face drooped with exponentially increasing dread. Kusanagi could even feel him biting down on his cheek through their cyber lobby connection.
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 No, no. You’re fine, but I might have to go see a doctor about my blood pressure after work. Everyone’s going to feel that static bite for a week. At least. Deadeye is no joke of an EW suite. 」
Reiko managed a small smirk, reassured she didn’t just do something insane. Ishikawa sighed, turning back to the Major.
  
    ISHIKAWA:
  
  「 Fujisawa is back on the radio. So is Togusa, they’re asking what the command structure looks like and if we’re still proceeding with the operation. They both asked if you were alright too. And Batou— 」
Kusanagi put up a frustrated, shaking hand. Her other virtual fist shook with a vigor few knew the Major was capable of. Calm, cool, collected – sometimes spiteful and impish. But Major Kusanagi Motoko was not easily known for rage.Ishikawa watched on, and Kusanagi watched him as his eyes reflected her puffed up cheeks and eyes full of fire. Forget the doubts of the day and the melancholy of a lost job.Motoko’s voice spoke in the cyber lobby and the in the shadows of her Tachikoma’s cockpit. She faintly heard the nearby shouts and boots of SAT troops moving to their designated positions outside the spider tank. The operation was still on.“Ishikawa. If you see Yuuka Remuda, he’s mine. I’m going to stick his cyberbrain on a spike.”'
User: What is the sea of information?
User: What is the sea of information?
Assistant: