Razor

Razor
It happened some time after dinner.  Well, dinner for the majority of the nine-to-five crowd, anyway.  College students like Grace tended to exist outside the bounds of what most considered a "normal" schedule, so maybe she'd eaten and maybe she hadn't.  Maybe she was too absorbed in processing the pages upon pages of history and information that a certain new acquaintance had given her about this group called the Virtual Adepts.  Either way, she was there in her small, spartan apartment (as she was many nights,) sitting at her computer when a call came through on her phone.

The caller id on the screen said number unknown.

Grace
Grace picked up the phone and hissed at the caller ID. Telemarketers! Always calling right about now, when they know people are going to be home. A sick tradition for a sick world.

Worse than interrupting a meal, however, was interrupting her current research. Bastards.

She turned the phone on mute and tossed it back on the bed beside her.

Razor
Grace ignored the call, leaving the phone on silent.  It continued to light up for a few moments before finally going to voicemail.  Whoever it was on the other end, they didn't leave a message.

Immediately following the missed call, another one came through, silently this time.  Maybe Grace noticed the lit screen and the unknown number id.  Maybe not.  After that, the calls stopped.

It was about five minutes later when the document that Grace was reading suddenly minimized on its own.  Maybe she'd think she hit a button by accident, or maybe there'd be that sudden groaning dread that came when one's computer began to show the first signs of having picked up a virus.  Maybe she'd even wonder if the person who'd sent her these files hadn't been quite so trustworthy as they'd made themselves out to be.
But then a blank document opened up, and words began to type themselves out on the screen.

You're going to make me do this the hard way, huh?

And then a moment later:

If you want answers, I can help. Got some intel for you too.  Log onto AnonNet.  Channel #2046.  You've got 10 minutes.

Grace
The words ghosting themselves onto her text editor made her heart beat faster than when she'd whipped herself into frustration at the phone's interruption. Her eyes flitted to the shiny black Android -- Well shit.
Someone was messing with her again. From what she could tell from her studies, the Virtual Adepts were like that. Their manifesto read like the Hacker's Manifesto, probably on purpose. A reality hacker's manifesto would.

Or, potentially, this could be someone else. A trap, perhaps. Wouldn't hurt to be cautious around someone who could take control of her computer like that, no matter who they were.

She propped herself up into a typing position, and clicked on the icon for AnonNet, entered the channel digits and a nick... 'Una_01' this time.

Razor
When Grace logged into the anonymous channel, the only other user present was named Razor.  Not numbers.  Not clever misspellings.  Clean and Simple.

Razor:  No Chimeric this time?  I liked that one.

Before she had a chance to respond, the person added:

Razor:  We're secure in here for now.  So you can talk freely.  I hear you've been looking for some answers.  Find anything useful?

Razor
[Edit: "No numbers.  No clever misspellings." (seriously how did I do that?)]

Grace
[Maybe not mispellings, but definitely grammar mistakes, right? lol]

Grace
Una_01: It was a test to see if you have been listening in. You have.

Una_01: Who are you?

She bit her lip at the line she'd just posted -- she wasn't going to answer his questions, not right at the moment. But she probably shouldn't play around too much.

Razor
Razor: Trust me kid, if I was a spy, you'd already be screwed. I swiped your chat log from a monitoring program. Don't worry - deleted it. But you gotta be more careful. The MiB look for shit like that.

Razor: I'm a friend. That's all I can tell you. Trust me, you're better off not knowing.

Grace
Again her heartbeat thudded in her ears. 'Swiped your chat log from a monitoring program.' Gadfly had been right, it had set of Homeland Security alarms. An idle panic left her wondering if those logs had been analyzed before this 'Razor' had gotten to them.

Una_01: Okay. I hear you. AnonNet is safe then? I figured not. I suppose that's question number 1.

Grace
[set off*]

Razor
Razor: No. I set up extra security. Stick to private communication and secure channels. Otherwise, be REALLY subtle. Basically, find people you can trust and code like the devil. You'll sink or swim, just like everyone.

Razor: Best piece of advice I can give: trust your gut. Always. I've been in this game a long time.

Razor: I take it you're interested in the Vdepts?

Grace
Una_01: I was reading the Manifesto when you called. I suppose that does kind of betray some interest, that.

Called, then hacked her computer and demanded. Nice... Well, kind of mean, actually, but that's not the point.

Una_01: My gut is confused. Maybe that's the tacos I had for lunch though.

Razor
Razor: It'll feel that way at first. So much shit to process. But it's worth it. There's some great shit out there. Things your fucking DREAMS have dreams about. That's the Hypersphere. Reality 2.0. Unlimited information, unlimited capability.

Razor: Where you're sitting right now? That's consensual reality. It goes by certain rules because those are the rules the people believe in. But it doesn't have to be that way. You can change the rules. Knowledge is power, and all that cheesy shit.

Razor: I'm rambling. Ask me a question.

Grace
A question? Hell, she could ask them all, given time.

Una_01: Hypersphere? Reality 2.0? That's a question, right? 

Una_01: Also, why are you doing all this to/for me?

Razor
Razor: Because we need everyone we can get, and I don't want you getting swiped up by the other team. As for the rest...

Razor: Ok, so, let's talk about "reality." Meatspace. The physical world. Consensual reality. Where you are now. That's the Tellurian. It's like a solid layer on top of Hyperspace. A place where the rules are harder to break - where reality is mutually agreed upon by dominant belief. You can bend the rules in the Tellurian, but you have to be careful. It bends back. Hyperspace is what exists past that layer.

Razor: Hyperspace is virtual reality, but I never liked that term. It's not virtually real. It IS real. Just not in the same way meatspace is. It's reality based on pure thought. Like I said before - unlimited information. Code, if you want to think of it that way. And we can order it however we want. Make our own reality. That's our goal. To make that reality accessible to everyone, even Sleepers. That's what Reality 2.0 is. It's a place where everyone makes their own rules.

Razor
[Pretend I formatted that]

Grace
Okay, her gut was getting a bit more used to this guy. The way he spoke. Jargon-laden, but damn.

Una_01: I think I have felt this 'Tellurian bending back' thing. It wasn't pleasant.

Una_01: Reality 2.0 does sound like something my dreams have dreams about. But this is just you telling me it's out there. How do I know you're not fucking with me?

Unlimited information, he was dangling that in front of her, like he knew exactly where her weakness was. So, a challenge -- do go on, sir.

Razor
Razor: Yeah, the bending back? That's Paradox. It's a bitch and a half. The more subtle you are, the safer you are, but sometimes reality just has it in for you. You don't have to worry about that on the Digi-Web. That's where a lot of us like to meet and hang out in the Hypersphere. You should ask that Gadfly guy to show you how to plug in.

Razor: You know I'm not fucking with you because you already know it's true. If you've felt Paradox, then you've tried to hack the code. So try it again. You can't do much right now, but try something small. Open yourself up. Feel the space around you. Are there other people in the building? How far away are they?

Grace
Hack the code again, Razor said, and her mouth twitched into a smile. The first time, well... the second time, that had been a rush.

Una_01: Okay. Let's just say I'm completely awful right off the bat. I'll be a bit.

She left the message hanging while she went to work. It was a tall order, asking her to just code in some changes to her little app that would show people. But maybe that's not exactly what he meant, re-reading the words. Open herself up he said. Feel the space. That didn't sound like 'write it into your app'.

She'd felt that way before, a few weeks ago, when she and the universe occupied the same spot, and she knew where she was.

Her eyebrows knit. Maybe if she could get a... code readout or something. Do some quick and dirty parsing. A hack, in the other other meaning of the term.

She opened up another text editor and began to furiously type, the parser taking form to separate raw Data into discernible pieces. It was only a few lines by the time she finished, and her hand paused over the run button. What if she embarrassed herself again.

Grace
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (7) ( success x 1 )

Grace
[1 Corr 1 Life 1 -- Quick n' Dirty life scan]

Grace
Curiosity won out, not to mention Razor on the other end, watching her and probably doing a bit of weighing and measuring too. Hitting run left her screen a blur of symbols, but this is what she was after.

Patterns, look for them, open up to them. Feel the data -- it's right there in front of her like a font. The parser would flag certain pieces as potentially fractal in nature -- life. Spreading blood veins, nerves, roots, and hell the very Tree of Life itself, all recursive patterns in the end. They'd stick out like sore thumbs.

Eyes open, she stared, and opened herself.

In her mind's eye, the girl upstairs took form, shaving in her bath. This, followed by a couple walking down the hall laughing. Then, the entire ecosystem of the building in her immediate surroundings. She became aware of the damn bugs in the walls and even the cells inside her that were not her -- surprisingly many. The fleeting thought that most of her was not Grace but rather single-celled jolted the overwhelming perceptions of all that stuff out of her mind. And again, she found herself staring at the screen.

Razor
Razor: Fucking amazing, isn't it? And that's just the beginning.

Grace
Una_01: Yes. Wow. Listen, I'm sorry for the coldness before. You're not so bad. I just didn't know if I could trust you.

Still don't, she reminded herself. All the warnings she'd gotten lately had really struck home with Gadfly's paranoia about their chats. And he'd been right.

Razor
Razor: Still don't.

(He, or she, echoed Grace's internal sentiments.)

Razor: But no apologies necessary. It's hard to know. It's always hard. But that's what I meant about your gut. It won't always be right, but it'll point you in the general direction more often than not. And hey... wish I could stay but I've gotta take off soon. Listen, about that intel?

Razor: I've been digging into the Techs in your area. Don't know how much you know about them, but I know more than most. See, most of our kind think they're like a hive-mind. They want us to think that, but it's not that simple. They're more like a hydra. All these different heads connected to the same body. Anyway, you guys ever wondered why they're so quiet out there? Denver's Technocrat installation isn't military. It's science-based. They've got a massive lab. Took me forever to slip their security but I saw inside of it for a few minutes. That shit is STATE OF THE ART. I heard them talking human organ growth and nano-tech.

Razor: Something else, too. There was a symbol I saw. H+. It's used in Transhumanism. Not something I'd expect to see in a Tech lab. Might be worth looking into. Not by yourself, though. Tell the others.

Grace
Her eyes narrowed on the screen as she read her own thoughts in Razor's message. She looked around the room as if looking for the interloper that she knew she'd never find.
The rest of the message saddened her a bit. Taking off soon -- no more questions then. Oh if only she could get someone to sit still and answer her.

Una_01: H+ yes, I've heard of that before. Human plus. Always in terms of the future though. I'll certainly tell the others.

Una_01: Before you go, is there a way I can contact you? Or is this it? And, how do I join?

Razor
Razor: It's too dangerous for you to contact me. I'm kind of... high on their hit list. But listen, I'll try to check in on you now and then. When it's safe. See how things are going.

Razor: As for joining up? All you gotta do is prove yourself. You'll know it when it happens. Anyway, take care Una. Never stop asking questions.

There was a moment's pause allowed for Grace to say her own farewell and log out.  If she didn't, she'd find herself booted out.  Either way, the channel wouldn't be there if she looked for it again.  It would seem that once more she was on her own. But at least, hopefully, with a clearer idea of the path she was walking down.

Grace
Una_01: I won't. Stop asking questions, that is. Ever.

Una_01: Goodbye, Razor.

She did see herself out at that point, and began running a scan on her computer, looking for files changed or added in the past... what was it, few hours?

Undoing Razor's work, if they left a trail (hah, unlikely) but if it was there, time to go on a nuking spree.
Hacked into her computer in 5 minutes! Showoff...

But she did smile. Something to tell Gadfly about. She met someone '1337'.