After two more rotations I've rigged this gismo that might, if snake-luck stands by me, trace the information flow from Brother Mike to God. The exec code was an easy get. I needed something with more umph than I usually slot, so I pulled a little misdirection ploy. What I did was, while vidding the dullards in their surveillance cube on one of my screens, I used my old exec code to key in a Vexing Stitch originating from my own cube, then I holoreeled "Firestorm", one of Bombay Malloy's greatest vids of all time. It opens with fire all over the holo-plate. Earlier, I'd patched my holoreel to the floorplates of my cube, so when the dullards finally got around to responding to the Vex, when they observed my cube, all they saw was fire. Next, back in my subordinate cubist mode, I meekly keyed in a request screen, and then I typed SPRINKLER, waited a few beats, and then received ON THE WAY, having watched the dullard type this on his own keyboard on my screen. I cleared my screen, punched in the old exec code, and I switched my input so I would receive from the dullards' executive communi-screen. I should add, the reason I haven't tried this scam before is because it's very high risk; if they found out I was goofing them, they might seclude me in one of their detention cells; a cube half the size of mine which is hard to believe, with zero distractions, smooth pale maddening walls, unavoidable mindtwists, and no fucking candles. But over the last few rotations my confidence had been growing, my snake-luck building up, and I figured I could bet on my quick reactions to triumph over the dullards' slow brains. And, to tell the truth, I was feeling a bit cocky. So, with my input altered, when the dullard thought he was linking up solely with the Higher Ups to notify and get the go ahead to "sprinkle" cube 23!6oB, he was also outputting to my monitor screen, and after I'd memorized the potent exec code he'd typed in, I cleared everything: the holo of "Firestorm", the request screen, the input submenu, everything. Then I braced myself, and the "sprinklers" came on. Fire retardant foam bulleted into every cranny of the cube, hard jet streams of the stuff that would leave bruises (I found out later) all over my body, misting my eyes and mouth, stinging and gagging. And then came the rinse cycle; gallons of swamp water they'd pumped up from some godforsaken pit, bad as the foam, and just as painful. Then the cube lit up with tangible heat, heat you could box up and send to your relatives over in Antarctica it was so thick. After a bit, the heat shut down, and there was a ticking sound, like a bomb had been triggered, but I knew it was just the metal of the cube realigning itself after all the bullshit it'd just been put through. I gasped. They had to have been checking my pulse and neurowaves by then. And then everything was back to normal. Happy, blissful normalcy. Except now I have this new exec code that kicks ass, and this rigged gismo that I hope will find God. I'm quite the snake, aren't I.
