<b>Roo'd</b>

# Roo'd

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# Chapter #46

Several hours later Fede found himself dancing on an elevated square platform done in translucent plastic panels. Each panel flashed different colors and patterns in tune to frantic remixed American classics. A sticky-sweet pop version of Route 66 was rumbling off the platform at 100 beats per minute. With his new legs he held out like a champ, but he was no match for the local competition. The song ended and he laughingly dismounted. He’d scored 437,002 points against the other guy’s 12,879,982. They both shrugged on their matching jackets and bowed, smiling. The lead boy, the other guy with a real leather jacket, got up onto the platform and the group hushed. He was squared off against a girl dressed in lacy black Victorian clothing, her face painted white and her hair a shiny violet. The music started and their skinny arms began to flail and weave in unison as their feet flew beneath them, music throbbing.

Cessus had found a 3D version of an ancient classic, Pac Man, and was bobbing along he rode the big inflated yellow ball mounted at its base. The arcade was in one corner of a giant warehouse that looked like Mardi Gras for the pop-culture obsessed. The giant sign over the door had said “Pee-Pee”, which Cessus insisted was a Chinese word. That didn’t make any sense to Fede, and neither did the shops or crowds inside it. Everyone was Fede’s age or younger, from the storekeepers to the security guards. If they really were security guards. For all Fede could tell they were just more costumes. Music spilled from every door, window, or backpack, a giant clash of cross-cultures and colors.

The group they had fallen in with called themselves “Cassicoos.” (’Classicals’ interpreted Cessus) and they pushed through the throng with the authority of ownership. Eventually they dined in a shop that sold tiny yoghurt-dipped cookie sticks, exclusively. Fede stuck with mint chocolate, but Cessus tried the curry and something called Kim Chee, and smilingly declared that they were both disgusting. Afterwards they hit the arcade, watching as their guy made a jumping spin at the finale of the song and scored a 15-point lead over the painfully cute girl dancing against him. The machine flashed and shook, and the couple bowed politely to each other, thin chests heaving. They jumped off the platform, but before the girl could join her group of black-clad sisters the boy ran over to them. He raised his comm towards her in silent inquiry, shoulders back and smile wide. Identical plain white fans flew out as the girls all hid behind them, giggling, but the girl nodded and bowed and blushed, and eventually pulled a comm shaped like a tiny green penguin out of her thin beaded purse. She leaned demurely over and gently touched its head to his comm. Then she skipped back and hid behind her fan, surrounded by her companions as they fled the scene. Their guy swaggered back to the rest of them, pulling on his leather jacket with a flourish, brandishing his comm. PAN-activated number exchange, Fede thought. He’d heard of it, but wasn’t it kid stuff? Having to touch comms to exchange numbers seemed painfully inconvenient until he realized how crowded it was here. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Besides, he had to admit it was more romantic than doing it wirelessly.

Cessus returned from the Pac-Man game, dreads bouncing as he towered over everybody. “Hey Feed, we probably ought to hit it. You think these boys have a suggestion on where to go for some good ’net connectivity?”

It turned out that the question was a tough one, causing a ruckus among the Cassicoos as they argued over where to go next. Eventually the lead boy won out and gestured for them to follow him. He led them towards the back of the warehouse and out a metal door between two stores selling plush animal costumes. They emerged in a dark alley, the boys surrounding them and ushering them quickly out and onto a main street. Throngs of traffic crept past, businessmen in suits sliding past hip-to-hip as they pushed through the crowd. They climbed over a small fence dividing two directions of foot traffic and squeezed through a glass-walled arcade, plain-looking military-style clothing on dummies standing antiseptic under bright LED spots. Young women with heavily branded shopping bags laughed and stared as they went by, not glancing twice at their accompanying group of identical Cassicoos. They emerged in a courtyard and one boy thumbed a code into a number pad on the far doorway, pulling them into a hallway. They filed down a flight of stairs, the railway rattling, and came out into an identical hallway. As they were emerging from the stairs the lead boy pulled up short, and an angry adult voice filtered up past him. Fede peered around the doorway to see a large man in matching brown shirt and pants, hands on his hips uttering clipped sentences at the lead boy. He waved his hands back towards the stairway and the boys raised a clamor of protesting voices.

The guy immediately in front of Fede turned suddenly, slipping by and heading back up the stairway. A moment after he’d disappeared a loud buzzing noise erupted from the open doorway beside the man in front of them. He stared into the room and yelled at them one last time as he went inside. The boys grabbed Fede and Cessus and they tore down the hallway and out a door at its end.

They came out onto a rooftop platform, basketball courts and tennis nets traced onto its stippled tar surface in neon paints. The boys flew across the rooftop in single file, descending a rickety metal spiral staircase bolted to the side of the building and down into a long alley. Cement walls raised on all sides. They paused and caught their breath. There were tennis balls littering the alley, rolled up along its edge and tangled in heaps of rain-stained posters. Their guides stood, brushing invisible dust from their jackets.

“Otaku” said the lead boy, pointing at the dead-end wall at the butt of the alley. It was plain cement, fused in vertical panels eight feet by five.

“Otaku” he said again, miming typing on a keyboard. They walked to the wall and stood nervously in front of it. The lead boy cleared his throat and announced something Fede couldn’t understand. Nothing happened. He said whatever it was again, and one boy laughed. A few more minutes passed and the remaining boys turned away, defeated. Mockery erupted at the lead boy, who threw down his hands in defeat and spat towards the wall.

As they turned they saw Cessus leaning back, staring up towards the lip of the building opposite, lenses out and lights flashing. His hands hung down, fingers padding gently against the cement supporting him. A loose smile traced his lips.

“Cessus?” asked Fede.

“Don’t bother me” he mumbled. “Fucking tight shit, man.”

The remaining boys stood around awkwardly, the situation suddenly out of their control. Their leader was starting to punch in a call to Fede when a door they somehow hadn’t seen opened in the wall opposite Cessus. A young man stepped out of the shadow, older than Fede but younger than Cessus, long straight black hair bound loosely behind his neck. He held up a hand towards Cessus.

“Stop, please. You are hurting our firewall” he said.

“That’s because your port-knocking was weak. Your ACKs turned me onto the sequence and you followed it with a straight password challenge” said Cessus.

“Yes, but now you are dictionary attacking our password challenge with many many dictionaries. Routing attacks from outside is blocking our traffic” he said.

“You should have an IP blocking mechanism” said Cessus.

“We have such a mechanism, but your floods are dynamic, and anticipated it” the man said.

Cessus nodded, and his fingers danced a rhythm on the wall behind him. The man paused, listening to something they could not here.

“Thank you” he said. “Welcome to Otaku. Please come in.”

As they entered the building they realized the walls were translucent from the inside. The alley was visible as a kind of fuzzy shadow, like looking through a shower door.

“Fiber-Optic mixed as a binding agent into the cement. One-way film laid on the inside” said the man with the long hair as he closed the door behind them. A sophisticated-looking set of shiny metal tubes suspended the door, a six-inch slab of the same kind of cement, and it slid closed smoothly under his hand.

“I am Xing” he said, bowing slightly to each of them. Fede touched the wall, running his finger over its surface. It had been cast in place with some sort of wooden board. The swirls and whorls were etched in its surface, nearly invisible in its translucence.

Cessus whistled as he turned, ducking to avoid the metal framework suspended from the low ceiling. The room was long, maybe fifty feet by thirty, and was filled with row upon row of angular wooden chairs. Each chair contained a Chinese boy, each face obscured by some kind of plain white mask. The masks terminated in a thick plug, the plug tracing into a cable that ran upwards and disappeared into a neatly bound series of master wiring on the gridded framework overhead. Xing gestured towards the back of the room and they followed, passing by a long row of boys on exercise bikes facing the wall. Each of these boys had a wide blue plastic yoke taped over their shoulders and bound into their masks’ plug. The bikes were all wired, the wiring leading up and away via the overhead frame. Before Fede could see more they had passed into a hallway made of the same translucent cement.

“Otaku is Japanese word. Means someone who is obsessed with something, originally comic books or cartoon shows” said Xing. “Here, now, it means someone like us. We believe the computer is ultimate Otaku opportunity. Is self empowerment through interest.”

He spread his hands, gestured towards the room they could see through the cement wall before them.

“We arrive in one location, everyone brings their own mask. Power via ethernet, so only one wire per person. Bikes make enough electricity so no noticeable new load is seen. Most processing is done off site. Everyone finds way to pass traffic. If police come, everyone take mask, there is nothing but ethernet cable to find. We come and go to new places, but this is oldest place. This is original Otaku.”

“Why would the police come?” asked Fede.

Xing smiled, nodded. The Cassicoos all nodded back.

“We are hackers here” Xing said. “We are making software that is free, for everyone to use. It is not made with business license from government. This threatens their economic model. Not good closed-market capitalism.”

“That’s not illegal” scoffed Fede.

“Yes yes” agreed Xing, smiling. “Very illegal.”

The top of the stair opened into a wide-open space, obviously once an office. Young men stood in groups around ancient dusty chalkboards, wires snaking over the floors and into assorted devices on the folding tables throughout the room. Some were clean-cut, like Xing, but many sported wiry beards and food-stained tee shirts, some with shorts and sandals. As they emerged the room grew silent and all eyes turned towards them.

“Welcome to Otaku” said Xing again. “I understand you need fat pipe?”

Cessus coughed and looked at Fede. “We do?” he asked.

“Fat pipe is serious problem in China” said Xing. “Right now is even bigger problem. Big virus has affected most systems. Ours is protected, but rest of the network is very hurry.”

Fede felt his face flush.

“You were very clever with our doorway. Figured out we are with Faraday over most of building, but have a window there” Xing pointed to a large plate-glass window. The alley beyond was slightly hazy, and it took Fede a moment to remember the large advertisement for Pocky stretched over the wall in the alley outside. It must have been perforated with micro-holes, to allow them to see out from inside.

“Maybe you can help us with connection through traffic problem to outside world?” he asked. “Then you can get fat pipe.”

Cessus made a soft strangling noise.

“Can I make a comm call?” asked Fede, his voice oddly pitched.

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