Chapter 52: Utilizing the Blackwall
A brief silence fell over the manufactorum, broken only by the low thrum of the power core and the subtle whir of the servo-skull's augurs. Joric's voice, as flat and steady as if reciting a physical law, had just proposed a plan that was, by the standards of this cyberpunk world, utterly insane.
"Precisely. The Blackwall. This global-scale, super-firewall is, in essence, a highly specialized, rule-driven collective of vast AIs." Joric's crimson optical lenses scanned the crew's stunned faces as he continued in his detached, technical monotone. "Its core directive is to isolate the Rogue AIs beyond it, ensuring the basic integrity of the internal Net.
"However, its sheer scale and the complexity of its protocol-layers mean its monitoring of internal network traffic—traffic that is 'non-malicious' but violates standard protocols or mimics specific system commands—is not infallible. This is especially true when exploiting certain inherent, or perhaps legacy, authentication-vulnerabilities in its gateway protocols."
"Militech's 'Project Ursa Minor' was, in part, an exploration attempting to understand and weaponize these very underlying protocol-characteristics. They achieved some preliminary, and dangerous, results. Though the project was terminated due to containment-risk, the technical principle they uncovered... is sound."
As Joric stated this, he was also accessing his own pre-Warhammer memories. He clearly recalled that in the lore of this world, the NUSA's intelligence agencies had inherited parts of Project Ursa Minor's core research. It was this forbidden, old-world knowledge that was later weaponized and used to transform a talented netrunner, codenamed "Songbird," into a terrifying entity, a "cyber-nuke."
Songbird's terrifying power came from her ability to use the Blackwall itself as a launchpad and amplifier for her hacks. Because nearly every network, from a personal agent to a corporate data-fortress, had to connect to the Blackwall for protection from the Rogue AIs, she exploited this ubiquitous connection. By leveraging the Blackwall's own authority, she could infiltrate almost any target and turn the full, crushing weight of the Net's defense system against any person or device she chose.
Before the very foundation of the Net's defenses, even the strongest solo netrunner was an ant.
However, being unable to confront it did not mean one could not exploit it. As he had just stated, the key was "understanding" and "mimicry."
"I do not need, nor could I, control the Blackwall. That would require supra-national computational power and would invite catastrophic retaliation," Joric's mechadendrite tapped precisely on several key data-nodes on the display screen, emphasizing his core plan. "I merely need to perform a precise... imitation. A forgery of its authority."
"I can construct a highly specialized data-packet that utilizes the specific authentication-vulnerabilities we have already identified in its gateway protocols. This packet will be 'misidentified' by the Blackwall's own systems as a high-priority, system-wide broadcast or status-sync message, originating from one of its own high-level internal nodes."
He paused, allowing the subversive, reality-bending nature of this concept to sink in.
"Once the injection is successful, marked with this high-priority internal signifier, the data-stream will follow the Blackwall's own internal communication protocols. It will be automatically replicated and distributed to every single online access-point connected to it. From the most common personal agent, to public holo-displays, to corporate internal networks, to government servers...
"In theory, any device connected to the Net will, in an extremely short time-frame, be forced to display a maximum-priority, unblockable, unskippable pop-up window. And the content of that window... will be the complete, unredacted evidence of Biotechnica's crimes."
The manufactorum was dead silent. The air itself seemed to freeze. Everyone, including the crew's veteran mercs, was shocked speechless by the audacity, the sheer, cold, technical logic of the plan.
To use the Blackwall to force-feed the truth to... everyone?
This wasn't some hidden data-drop on a dark-net forum. This wasn't an investigative report that media-fixers could be pressured to bury. This was an instantaneous, unstoppable information-tsunami that would engulf the entire digital world. Biotechnica would have no way to delete, suppress, or spin the information in the crucial first moments... because the "source" of the information would appear to be the Blackwall itself.
It would be a global-media firestorm, a devastating, civilization-level blow to Biotechnica's credibility and market value.
Sasha forgot to cry. She forgot her self-protective, curled-up posture. She stared, dumbfounded, at Joric's tall, crimson, god-like mechanical form, her eyes shining with a disbelieving light. The intangible wall of "corporate power" that had driven her to despair... this being had just pointed out a crack. A crack wide enough to bring the whole wall crashing down.
The ice around her heart cracked. A burning, desperate hope she had never dared to imagine, like an unleashed vine, wrapped itself around her.
Rebecca's jaw dropped. It took her a second to snap it shut. "I... Holy... shit... Now that's what I call 'blowing 'em sky-high'! Smearing corpo-shit all over their own faces using the Blackwall?!"
Maine took a deep breath of the machine-oil-scented air, trying to calm the storm raging in his own mind. As leader, he instinctively weighed the risk. He looked at Joric, his expression heavy, his voice low and serious. "Boss... can this... can this really be done? What's the success probability? And the blowback... if the Blackwall catches on?"
"On a technical level, based on current data-models, the feasibility assessment is over seventy-eight percent," Joric's reply was as calm as a lab report. "The primary risk is the precision of the data-packet's construction; it must perfectly mimic the digital signature and communication-format of a specific Blackwall node. The secondary risk is the 'instant-of-insertion' and its stealth, which must be completed in a micro-second window to avoid real-time monitoring.
"If the Blackwall's deep autonomous-defense mechanisms identify it as a high-threat malicious attack, it could trigger a trace and high-intensity counter-measure against the injection source. However, as my calculation is based on mimicry of an internal command, not a brute-force attack, the probability of triggering the highest-level response is less than fifteen percent."
He adjusted his optical lenses. "And even if it is triggered, I have prepared multiple contingency-protocols, including an instantaneous physical hard-disconnect, the release of decoy-signals, and the activation of this sanctum's emergency-shielding fields. This is sufficient to evade tracing in the vast majority of scenarios."
Joric turned his gaze back to the still-stunned Sasha, giving her a clear path forward. "Therefore, the data-backup you paid for with such a high price now has a purpose far more 'efficient' and 'lethal' than simple publication.
"You will need to refine it, distill it into a format perfectly suited for this forced-broadcast, a format that can incite immediate public comprehension and resonance.
"When you are ready—and when your body has been sufficiently repaired to withstand the brief, associated neural-load of the data-transmission—we can initiate this... 'Global Announcement' protocol.
"In the face of technology that understands the true nature of the rules, the 'walls' of corporate information-control are nothing but fragile barriers, maintained only by an imbalance of information. To break them, one does not always need brute force. One merely needs to find the correct... resonant frequency."
Sasha gasped, breathing in greedily, as if re-learning how. She looked at Joric, then at Rebecca, whose eyes were now burning with a fierce, manic light, and at Maine, who was grim-faced but not saying no.
The frozen lake of her despair was shattered. The new, surging wave of emotion was a mixture of terror at the risk, a burning heat for vengeance, and a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve.
Her-curled fingers slowly un-tensed, then clenched into tight fists. Finally, she gave a small nod. Her voice, though still weak and trembling, was now laced with an iron-hard, unbreakable conviction.
"I... How long... until my body and the data... are ready?"