"Historical events are infinitely variable and their interpretations are a constantly shifting process. There are no certainties to be found in the past."
-Gerda Lerner
"Hey, you're here early." Ishikawa swiveled around in his chair to greet Batou, who was still in his jogging sweats. Batou turned a chair around, backwards, and sat down.
"Yeah, I finished my jog and didn't have anything better to do."
Ishikawa chuckled, "You're still jogging?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?," Batou replied defensively.
"You're just putting wear and tear on your cybernetic parts, you know. It's not like they're going to get rusty overnight."
"Hey, it's not just about keeping in shape. It's about mental focus, and discipline -- stuff like that."
"Oh, really? Mental focus, huh? It doesn't seem to help much," Ishikawa smirked, not unkindly, and Batou winced exaggeratedly.
"Ouch. Are you going to fill me in on what you've been up to, or do you just want to throw insults at me all morning?"
"Well, I'm actually all done -- they had eight terminals in the lab, and six of them had useful parts, so I put them together piecemeal to make two working terminals."
"Oh, that's good . . . hey, wait, have you been here all night?"
"Yeah -- once I got started, I just wanted to finish it up. It took a little longer than I thought."
"Hmm, sounds like you're putting 'wear and tear' on that biological body of yours. Sure you don't need me to check your work?"
"Touché. But I did get a little sleep, once I was done . . . Anyway, I checked it out for viruses and malevolent code, and the strange thing is, it's totally clean. The code's even pretty good, considering most of it was written by university students. There doesn't seem to be any reason why it would cause those researchers to go into a coma."
Batou looked over at the naked terminals, their innards spread out on the table and connected via a snarl of wires. He couldn't decide whether they looked like mutilated murder victims or a bizarre alien multipedal organism. "I guess we'll find out once the Major gets here."
"I'm already here," she announced, entering the lab. "The Chief wants us to meet in the briefing room before we get started." They nodded, and followed her down the hall.
Aramaki explained what Ishikawa had found out about the system, and, face serious, continued, "Since we don't know exactly what caused the researchers to fall into a coma, we are going to monitor the dive very closely. I don't want us taking any unnecessary risks. Please report anything unusual to the Major." He nodded to her, and she continued,
"Ishikawa, I want you to do the main dive. Batou will go with you and watch your back." They nodded, clearly not unhappy with the assignment. "Borma, Togusa -- you will be in the lab, monitoring their cyberbrains and the main system. The androids will be keeping a watch on vital signs, as well as monitoring the firewall and external activity. The Tachikoma, Paz, and Saito are going to monitor the internal network, analyzing the packets between the main system and the terminals, and intervene if necessary. And I," she said, seeing the questioning look on Batou's face, "will be in the lab coordinating all the data reports and running my own data analysis." He grinned at her, and she looked away. "Let's get started."
With five people and the extra computers in the lab, it was a little crowded, but there was still room to breathe, for those that required breathing. Everyone was listening on the general Section 9 channel.
"Androids ready."
"Tachikoma ready!" Perky as always, their voice was like a jolt of caffeine.
"Paz ready."
"Saito ready."
"Borma ready." Borma's attention was fixed on the array of windows up on the large screen, each monitoring something different with graphs and visualizers and rows of text. In the upper right hand corner, he had patched in to Ishikawa and Batou's visual feeds.
"Togusa ready." Standing behind Borma, he watched the data come in.
"Batou ready." He shifted a little in the chair next to Ishikawa.
"Ishikawa ready." Comfortably seated in his usual chair, he sounded almost bored.
"All right, begin the dive." The Major leaned on Batou's chair, intently watching both Borma's screen and Ishikawa's, which had feeds from the androids' and Tachikomas' monitoring. "Go slowly, and be prepared to pull out if necessary."
Synchronously, Ishikawa and Batou reached out cords from their dummy barriers and plugged them to their respective terminals. The lab was silent except for the gentle whirring of computer fans, and a quiet tap as they plugged in. The Major noticed a spike in CPU activity on the server, and the data flow between terminals and server rose sharply. No unauthorized cyberbrain access, though, or attack code. She waited, unblinking.
"I'm in," Ishikawa reported, "Looks like Osaka Castle." From his visual feed on Borma's screen, she could see that he was standing near a courtyard on a rampart high above a moat, with another moat farther down below.
"Whoa! I almost didn't recognize you, there, in that get-up," Batou exclaimed, his visual feed showing an Ishikawa dressed in full samurai armor. The lacquered iron scales covered all but his right arm, and a double-crested iron helmet topped his head. A quiver of arrows and a bow stuck out from behind his head, and he wore two swords on his left hip, the katana and wakizashi.
"I'm surprised you didn't notice that you're dressed the same way." The Major watched as Batou looked down to see that he was similarly garbed, but with a winged helmet instead of a crested one. He gave a short laugh.
"I guess am . . . somehow it feels like I've worn this all my life . . ." Batou trailed off, as if thinking.
"If the fashion show is over," the Major broke in with only the merest suggestion of amusement, "then start looking for those researchers that are supposedly still logged in." The tension somewhat broken, the atmosphere relaxed slightly, but all were still tightly focused on monitoring their data.
"I've patched into the server's user data section . . . looks like they're in the castle itself," Ishikawa remarked. "I see activity on their avatars, so something's alive -- " He stopped mid-sentence.
"Ishikawa?" the Major asked. When there was no response, she demanded, "Batou?!" He, too, was silent. She spoke urgently through the broadcast comlink. "Report!"
"There is increased brain activity in the hippocampus area of their temporal lobes, but nothing out of the ordinary," one android reported.
"Sorry, Major," Batou finally spoke, "it's a little hard to concentrate; some samurai's memories keeping breaking into my head."
Togusa broke in, his voice calm, "From the research notes I read before the lab was destroyed, the system is designed to immerse the user in a set of synthesized memories and experiences interpolated from various historical sources from the simulation's time period." The Major just looked at him. Even if this was normal behavior for the system, it was still unnerving.
"Everything's fine," Ishikawa added, "though I find myself worrying about this guy's wife and kids -- I feel like Togusa or something." Borma seemed to find this particularly funny, but the Major was not amused.
"Fine. Just hurry up and see what you can find." Batou and Ishikawa began to walk towards the castle.
"The place is pretty empty . . . you'd think there'd be more soldiers." Batou scanned the area, revealing siege deterrents, weapon racks, and other military equipment, but only a few men patrolling the ramparts and watching the gates.
"Hmmm . . . I read a proposal for synthesizing AIs inside the system based on accumulated historical data, but it sounded like it was still in the testing stages," Togusa surmised. The Major nodded, and ordered,
"Continue."
"Seems like an attack is expected at any time," Ishikawa noted, "The gates are shut tight." The Major looked to Togusa for confirmation, and he added,
"The simulation is from just before Tokugawa's attack on Osaka castle in 1614, just after the Battle of Sekigahara." She nodded, and asked,
"Ishikawa, do you still have a lock on the researchers' avatars?"
Ishikawa looked up at the castle. "Everyone must be inside," he said, and then added, "Must be time for Toyotomi-dono's speech." Motoko had a strange feeling of dread, like she was trying to shout but no sound was coming out . . . Oh no . . . I've already lost them.
"Batou?! Ishikawa?! Status!," she demanded, knowing it was futile.
"We'll be late, you know," Batou remarked to Ishikawa.
"Well, it's all in the name of duty," Ishikawa laughed, "Say, what's the latest news from the scouts?"
"Not sure," Batou responded, shaking his head as they crossed the bridge of the upper moat. "That's probably what the meeting's about." They're completely gone . . . why didn't I notice sooner?! Looking at their physical bodies, reclining motionless in chairs in the computer lab, they seemed formless, like the shed exoskeleton of a locust that crumbles to dust when touched..
Togusa gasped. "Major . . . are they . . . ?"
With an icy hot glare around the room, Motoko strode over to the server. "I'm going in."
"But . . . how? There's no more terminals," Borma asked, furrowing his brow in puzzlement.
"I'm connecting straight to the server's data port." She drew out the connectors from her dummy barrier in a smooth, practiced motion, and got ready to plug them in. "None of you are to follow; is that clear?" They nodded, trusting, and she jacked in with a single, stabbing motion.