x
Interrogative murmurs started throughout the room. Like most folks present, Wessex gawked at Jessica in hoping to gauge her level of crazy. However, the stares and the murmurs bounced off the girl's hardened demeanor.
"We cannot be so bold as to assault the lion's den just yet," said the commander. "Our contingency for Goliath's abrasive actions is to defang the viper: infiltrate Spearhead, neutralize their labs, and topple their fighting ability. Stealth operations would limit their potential as a hostile regime."
Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose, her head fell, and her brow crushed from deep disbelief. You can't be fucken serious...
"Plus, we would have to charge a lot of rotors for an assault on the city," added Monarch. "It would be a risky stretch of our resources. Forget about getting enough operatives in the headquarters; there's no safe rendezvous. Our airships would be spotted miles outside of the sprawl, no tunnel leads close enough, and above all, we'd lack the element of surprise."
"You sound scared," said Jess.
"Whatever I must feel to keep my head in reality."
"Accept reality, then!" Jessica fixed herself upright before the big crowd. Her lean figure focalized, thanks to the red vest, and tingling, her glossy eyes surveyed the faces below and throughout. "I met a Goliath Agent, okay?" This is how close we were"—pointing from herself to Wessex."They know what we have; I know what they want; they know what we'll do. Sub Terra is supposed to be a counterweight to the Azarean regime. Out of a thousand permutations though, I say with 100% certainty that Spearhead is expecting you, which leads to variables beneath a dismal chance of success. They will match Sub Terra move for move until you're cornered... like the Woodsmen."
"In the interest of time, then, tell us where you're going with this, Lynx," Monarch said.
"Goliath's monopoly on information has got you beat a hundred times over." Inquisitively, Jessica locked eyes on Amon. "They've literally gotten away with murder for the past hundred years. Seen the data yet?"
Amon removed his sunglasses, revealing grievous blue eyes. "Dates and organization in Lynx's data paint a pretty morbid picture of conspiracy," he said. "Assuming we did broadcast that data through the proper channels, it could cripple Goliath's any chance of martial domination.
"But without a better way to disseminate information, there's no guarantee our damning evidence would sprout beyond the lowest rumor mines of 4Chan. And we can't trade lives for clickbait headlines. There's no blanket solution for waging an information war... which sucks."
"Amon didn't keep us out of the loop," Monarch rejoined. "Nothing solid can come of treason in a chip. Like I said the first time, we cannot credit acts of terrorism to an Azarean conspiracy, with the exception of what you collected on Pine Rim. But, as Amon said, there's no way to make it stick."
Wessex nodded. "Dissent is still the cyberspace screen between our operations and the public eye. They cannot prioritize a task whose potential for success is illusory, not when news outside the corporate network can be so easily denied and discredited. I don't think we should place our hopes on social media justice."
Jessica gritted her teeth. "Which is why hacking Goliath from the inside is your only bet."
"I want to hear what she has to say," said Amon.
Wessex furrowed his brow. "You're willing to place stock on Lynx?"
"She's the smartest person here!" a voice yelled.
Valerie fumbled forward, toward the front of the crowd. A healthy curiosity overtook the room, perplexed faces homing in on the pushy brunette. Again, Jessica's eyebrows crunched into her eyelids. She knew Homegirl meant well, but she just had those moments...
Valerie lifted herself onto the platform. "All you have to do is listen to what Jessica is saying, and that's half the work done for you," she said as if spreading common knowledge. "I used to think she was smart, then found out she's a genius."
"This meeting is now an informal occasion, it seems," Wessex muttered.
"Quickly, Jess! What's four-thousand, five-hundred and thirty multiplied by... one-million, nine-hundred and... thirty-four thousand... four-hundred and fifty-two?"
"I'm not that fast," Jessica scoffed. "But it's 8,763,067,560"
"What is the square root of Pi?"
"We can't be here forever, Val."
"What's the Capital of Oceania?"
"Sydney."
"What's the equation for perpetual energy?"
"Enough!" Monarch interrupted. "This is not a Q&A session. But if your cognition is everything it appears to be, is it safe to assume you have a plan to infiltrate Goliath?"
"Do you really suggest allocating resources and manpower based on the whim of this civilian?" Wessex remonstrated." Did you not just recruit her?"
"Well," Jessica shrugged nervously. "It's more like... a collaboration. And to answer your question, Monarch, yea."
"I'd listen to what she has to say," said Raptor, standing below the edge of the platform.
Monarch crouched several feet from his head. "Is that my best lieutenant vouching?"
"Yes, sir. I am on the side of Lynx and Wildcat. Both cats."
Monarch stood up with a final, slight nod of approval. His vague smirk pointed at Wessex, and his peer's defiant grimace relented after a long sigh.
"Very well," Wessex said, folding his hands. "You have the floor, Lynx. Tell us your plan to scale Goliath Headquarters."
Jessica trepidatiously inhaled and mouthed a "Thank you" to Raptor, who nodded in approval. She then straightened her lips at Valerie before planting her focus on the crowd. The whole of Sub Terra lent their ears.
Deep breaths.
In a sleight-of-hand manner, Lynx hardwired Sub Terra's large monitor, to which she then fed data from her Vambrace. The monologue that followed stole character from a university lecture. There was wit, jargon, and a shameless air of eccentricity.
"Over the past year. I have accepted several freelance tasks from these divisions and can tell you which ones keep to themselves. Now, according to the data that I—Ich, ho, yo—freed from Goliath's chip, and judging by the dimensions, there are 90 accessible levels in the building, and they come with unique designations. There's no way to account for every level, but the points of interest are here: 75: Synaptic Interfacing; 76: Biometric Weaving; 77 through 78: Artificial Synthesis; 80 and up are uncatalogued. But, since everything underneath deals with business divisions, online services, and Goliath's usual PR spiel, probability suggests the top levels are reserved for the sinister applied sciences, and I'm willing to bet 90 is their communications nexus. In other words..."
Fluidly and concisely as able, Jessica explained Goliath HQ's architectural layout. From Insertion points, to escape routes, to security redundancies, to secondary redundancies and floor overviews, she sang a concert of invaluable intelligence to the room. Then she did it again, hoping hundreds of Joes and Janes could commit the gist to memory. Further, she synched the lecture with a series of diagrams. Her hand danced on the holo-brace and highlighted every note-worthy point on Goliath's megastructure.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
