Radio Free Liberty

[Mr.Sanguinetti]

>>>System security alert!<<<

>>>The Sirius Neuro-Interactive Defense Environment (SNIDE) encountered a critical error and had to shut down. Accessing this N-link may result in software, hardware and/or nervous-system damage. It's strongly unadvised for you to proceed. Warranty expires upon entry. Do you wish to continue?<<<

>>>Enter<<< - >>>LEAVE<<<

Mr Sanguinetti appears in an endless nothingness. Three screens flicker into life around him providing the only visible lights. He observes the data on the screens, modifying values by mere touches. His face looks so real to the undisciplined eye that one might not even realize it as a masterpiece of digital design and animation. Only a skilled neuro-graphican could distinguish it from a professional visual-recording in the current resolution. But who knows the hacker instantly notices some oddities about his appearance, like the well combed hair and the wrinkle-less suit. He also looks well slept, and maybe a few years younger than usual.

The man grabs a screen and leaves the other two to fade away. He holds it like a small animal, and it instantly transforms to a cute cartoon puppy. It runs around, yaps and whips tail to indicate the system's ready to operate. Sanguinetti crouches to the dog presenting a cigar from his pocket. It's smell could deceive a gaul tobacco-farmer, furthermore it happens to be the icon of the file the hacker was working on the last few days. He lets the dog to smell it.

'Look for it boy, run!'

The dog starts sniffing around while Sanguinetti counts. 'One, two, three sniffs in rapid succession. Less than the third of a second.' The man whistles. 'Ahh, that comp could run anything.' Meanwhile the puppy runs around in the endless space with untraceable speed bringing various objects to the empty scene - including walls, furniture and people. In three seconds the hacker stands in a classic Sol-style retro underground pub with the doggy whipping tail at his feet looking up to him. The man and the dog are the only moving objects. The other characters are a lot less detailed - from close they resemble holo-cartoons of the last century. There's a dancing mob in one end of the room lit by faint blue-neon light - completely static. Couples drinking at remote tables, even the smoke raising from their cigarettes is still.

Sanguinetti walks around for an hour, exploring every minor detail of the scene. When he finds something he isn't satisfied with, he adjust the values to be more realistic. The surface of the table and it's temperature. The texture and touch of carpets and curtains. The skin, hair and dress colors of patrons. The smell of the cigarettes they smoke - it's even irritates the eye. He rips a bottle of vine with too sweet aroma to floating data-indicators and he changes it's properties while tasting it. The doggy observers his every move carefully.

'Yeah, that's better. I shouldn't drink more, I know too well how that system simulates
drunkenness.'

The hacker sits on a sofa around the center of the place - oddly the best seats in there are the ones unoccupied - and leans back enjoying the mood for a while. He raises his cigar to his lips, and looks at the dog while lighting it. At the moment the flame touches it, the scene starts moving. Smoke floats, fans start to work, the mob dances, the patrons get involved in silent chatter cut by an occasional laugh. A libertonian neopunk band appears on the stage - a direct cutout from the ongoing holo-broadcast. Sanguinetti inhales deep from the cigar while he scratches the back of the dog.

'Good boy. All right, we're done here. Link us to all channels pup, let's open this place for the public.'

The scene lags for a second after the dog yaps, than it indicates the processed command with a whip of tail.<div align="right]

Welcome to Radio Free Liberty!

Here's Mr Sanguinetti of the Lane Hackers, I'll be your host while here. I'm glad you found this frequency and decided to tune in. We'll listen to good music both from various sirian bands and from my collection from the legendary Sol-system. Also it will be a channel of informal discussion. This will take place here in our virtual pub of the same name. We have a wide array of alcs and other aphrodisiacs, and as our name suggests, everything is free. The place is designed to serve as a resting place and safe haven for the neural-addicts or who got bored with the real Sirius. And of course for those who wants to meet some people safely who they normally wouldn't be able to. Like me.

Keep in mind however that everything said here will be on-vacuum, freely accessible and traceable by anyone. So keep official business outside. We wont track your signal back nor we would mind if you connect here anonimously. But if you try to masquerade yourself to someone who you aren't you might receive a bio-feedback so strong that you'll think you're a sausage for the rest of your life. The same applies to those who try to harm our guests any way while here, or tries to use the Radio as a gateway to the inner Lane Hacker systems. That is all, apart from those cases you can feel safe here.

So connect in and have a chat or just enjoy the neuro-simulation designed by our biotechnicans and my humble self. While we're waiting for our first guests here comes a song to all the traders who wake up early to work while all the nasty pirates are sleeping.

---