he knew there was a real possibility he might never be able to get out of the room without Babel's help. "I have the codes for the security system," Saigo said as if reading Lanier's thoughts. "I could get you out of here with me. You can do with the boy what you want." Lanier considered that offer. It was tempting, but he doubted Saigo would ever let him walk out of here alive, and certainly not with Babel and all his information about the otaku. "I don't think so, Saigo. Babel needed to get back to you for a reason, and I'm willing to bet it's going to hurt Renraku more than it will me. And if I'm wrong and I don't have a shot at getting what he knows, then I'm going to make sure nobody ever gets it."

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?… My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? -Matthew 27:46 Inside the Renraku private local telecom grid, I work my technomancy. Jacked into the terminal inside the Renraku installation, I have access to the central nodes of the company's communications system-all of the important corporate data-processing centers. From outside, the grid is protected by a wall of ice, a virtual glacier so powerful nothing could possibly break through without suffering terrible damage and setting off every alarm in creation. From within, the system is open to anyone with the means, and I have the power of my channels, more power than any cyberdeck could ever offer. I am inside the system, a Trojan horse sent as a gift back to the enemy like the virus I told Lanier about. But I must be cautious, the body of the Renraku network still has defenses to guard it against viruses. On the shimmering black plane of the Matrix I call on my helper spirits to attend me. Rook is already in the system, and comes immediately at my summons, a raven of black chrome, feathers glossy and picked out in remarkable detail. She settles on my shoulder in a chiming flutter of metallic wings and whispers in my ear of the wisdom she had gleaned from the system so far. The security subroutines are tied up in knots the Renraku technicians will need days to undo, but it will be too late before they even begin. Bakemono appears out of the depths of my cloak from behind my leg and scuttles in a crouch, his knuckles dragging along the ground. He looks up at me and awaits my command as I draw my sword from the pouch at my side. It begins as a sphere of liquid silver shimmering in the light within the system, like mercury suspended in zero-gravity. The cool metal ripples at my touch and its form begins to shift and flow. The silvery metal stretches out and assumes the shape of my sacred blade, the embodiment of my will in the electron world. With my magical blade in hand, few of the inhabitants of the Matrix can stand against me. I assess the datapath through the Renraku system and we are off at the speed of light. In a matter of seconds we reach the Chiba grid halfway around the world. It is here, in the heart of the Renraku system, where my destiny will truly begin. I hope Papa Lo is right, and that I will know what I must do when the time comes. The system is a vast virtual palace in the depths of the Matrix, modeled on Osaka Castle in seventeenth-century Japanese style. My travel through the datapath from the Renraku Boston war-room system allows me to bypass the guardians standing on the castle walls to repel intruders. I come along the path of an ally, so the castle gates are opened to admit me. I step through and into the vast courtyard. There is a bustle of activity all around me. Peasants and servants, representing functionary programs, move quickly about their business, operating systems and transporting data from place to place. Couriers depart from all of the gates of the castle to distant places, bearing messages for their masters. Grim-faced samurai stand guard over the courtyard, but none of them react to my presence. Not yet. I gather my cloak around me and follow the path of the messengers back into the castle itself. I walk through the corridors looking for the source of the messages the system is sending out across the world to other Renraku systems. Extending the power of my channels, I can sense the flow of information through the system. Finding the main routing processor is difficult, but not overly so for me. I follow the path I sense through the castle's maze of corridors to reach a paper-walled room in its depths.

A samurai stands guard outside of the room. I pull my cloak close around me and step closer. Taking a small pinch of glittering dust from my pouch and executing a deep bow, I whisper the words to transform the appearance of my persona in the eyes of the guardian, a simple illusion. The samurai's lifeless eyes stare back at me and he steps aside as the door slides open. The room within is Spartan in its simplicity. A nobleman, dressed in a silk kimono showing the Renraku dot-and-waveform logo design sits behind a low desk on the floor. On the desk are writing implements, paper and ink held in delicate porcelain vessels. Two armored samurai stand behind the noble, their faces as impassive as stone. The nobleman produces beautiful calligraphy on the creamy pages of rice paper set before him, then folds them carefully and passes them into the hands of a messenger to take them out of the room. These are the instructions from the central routing processors, directing e-mails, faxes, and other data from Renraku headquarters out to the four corners of the world. Closing the door panel behind me, I approach the nobleman. Without warning, the two samurai spring to life and move toward me. My deception did not fool them, and I extend my senses toward them. They are SKs! Semi-Autonomous Knowbots are near legendary in the Matrix; sophisticated adaptive programs that come near to being artificially intelligent. Renraku created them and has no doubt improved them over the years. They are too sophisticated to be fooled by my illusions and deceptions. If I am to succeed, I have to get past the knowbots without letting them set off an alarm in the system. Already the system is trying to send out word of my intrusion. I send Rook winging away to lead the signal astray and buy me some time. The samurai draw their katanas and step closer, sandaled feet slapping against the tatami mats covering the floor. I flip my cloak aside and show my own sword, the blade gleaming. Bakemono huddles near my left leg, baring his fangs and snarling at the approaching warriors.

Then they are upon me without warning. I raise my sword to block the attack of one samurai while I spin to the side to avoid the slash of the other. The blades swing silently, but there is a clang when the katana strikes my own sword, and I push the blow to the side. "Bake, attack!" I command, and my goblin-spirit leaps out with a fierce cry, slashing and biting at one of the samurai, who is driven back by the sudden fierceness of the onslaught. I concentrate on the other and bring my sword up to block another attack, thrusting toward a possible opening. The samurai blocks my attack. The knowbots are fast, and good at their work. I block another attack to the side, and I can feel the senses of the samurai probing, trying to find a weakness in my defenses. They are confused by me. I am not like any other decker they have ever seen before. It makes them hesitate slightly. They need time to adapt. I make it cost them. I take advantage of the momentary opening to strike past the first samurai's defenses. My flashing sword connects with the samurai's black-lacquered armor in a shower of sparks and leaves a long rip in the knowbot's structure. Flashing code and neon fractals show through the gaps in the knowbot's samurai form, the raw internal organs of the program exposed. There is a cry off to my side as the other samurai pins down Bakemono and slashes his katana through the goblin spirit's form. Bakemono's head comes off cleanly and tumbles across the room before the spirit breaks up and dissolves. I feel a sharp pang from the death of my servitor, who is a part of me. Finished with Bakemono, the undamaged knowbot turns its attention to me. I ward off attacks from the two defensive programs, but they are pressing me back. I cannot hold both of them off for long. The blades whirl around with great ferocity, but I block each one as it comes in at me. The samurai are double-teaming me, working together to wear down my defenses and find some kind of a weakness. I can't allow them to. I concentrate my efforts on the samurai I damaged, hoping for an opportunity. When it comes, I drive the blade of my sword directly through the damaged portion of the knowbot, looking for a vital part of the program to crash. The blade strikes home and the SK stiffens, locked in place like a video image in freeze-frame. The program is crash-locked. But I pay for my success. The other samurai comes in with an upward strike and its sword tears through my cloak, cutting a trail of fire along my side. I cry out and roll to the side, discarding the cloak, which dissolves like smoke. It is useless now and would only slow me down. I feel the burning pain in my side cool rapidly and a strange sensation of wetness spread there. It is like nothing I have felt before. I hold my sword in a double-handed grip as the undamaged samurai circles around me, looking for an opening. I take a moment to glance to my side. Copper fluid drips from the gash in the side of my persona, like metallic blood. It falls and pools on the floor of the room, reminding me of the pool at the base of the great tree. I reach into the pouch at my side with my free hand and draw out a stream of liquid silver that I instantly shape into a gleaming round shield I use to block the next strike of the katana. Pushing up with the shield I give myself an opening to slash at the samurai's stomach. Broken code flows like blood from the ragged gash left by my sword. The samurai strikes again and I block, jumping over another attack, this one aimed at my legs. The attacks are coming faster and faster as the system devotes more processing power to the remaining knowbot. I cannot block them all. The knowbot comes in from the side with blinding speed and slashes my sword arm. I try to bring my shield up, but I can't turn fast enough. The pain is followed quickly by another flow of liquid copper from my wounded shoulder, which joins the growing pool at my feet. As I fall back before the assault of the knowbot, the pool of my electron lifeblood shimmers and ripples. Small tendrils grow out of the pool and begin to reach up toward the ceiling of the room. Something emerges from inside me, nourished by the vital essence of my living persona, taking root in the Renraku system. I am fixed for a moment in fascination