Ishihara: Robando la Solidaridad parte 1 (en proceso)
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A ninguno de los integrantes de la Compañía Black Rabbit les gustaban demasiado las cajas…

Boss bajó su mirada hasta el hombre inconsciente despatarrado sobre su cama. Menuda cosa más incómoda era esa cama: el colchón era fino, y se negaban a darle una almohada.

Por un momento, Boss sintió pena del investigador semidesnudo extendido sobre aquel colchón incómodo. No era más que el típico habitante medio de ese grupo solitario en la crisis de la mediana edad: El estrés y el aislamiento se habían ido tornando en un ansia desesperada por encontrar cualquier tipo de validación, por combatir la amenaza de las entradas crecientes y el abdomen flácido. No conocía su nombre. Podría incluso haber sido un buen hombre. Tan sólo un tipo que no tenía suficiente fuerza de voluntad o inteligencia para evitar un error colosal.

Decidió dejarlo así. Tan sólo un poquito de simpatía era suficiente. Al fin y al cabo, él era uno de los causantes de su miseria y la de sus hermanas.

Boss había aprendido años atrás que se las tenía que apañar con lo que tenía. Las herramientas no eran nada más, incluso sin ellas, se tenía a sí misma. Voz y postura. Toques con la cola. Un ronroneo juguetón. El vaivén de sus caderas. Eran armas sutiles y precisas. Suficiente para meterse en su cabeza. Suficiente para quedarse allí. Suficiente para hacerle cometer un error colosal.

Aun así, le había llevado tres meses cometer el error. Boss era una mujer paciente (tenía que serlo, para controlar a sus hermanas), pero su paciencia había menguado lo suficiente como para que sus ansias de acción tomasen un filo letal.

La Compañía Black Rabbit ina a escapar. Volvería a ver a sus hermanas. Volvería a ver a Wizard. Iban a salir al fin.

Boss vació los bolsillos del investigador. Este le había asegurado que tendrían quince minutos largos antes de que seguridad se diese cuenta de que algo no iba bien. Boss no esperaba más de cinco, pero esa ventaja era suficiente. No podía ser más difícil que llevar un rebaño de gatos.

Un condón, cuarenta y siete céntimos, el envoltorio de una chocolatina Twix, un reloj de muñeca, una tarjeta de identificación, y un smartphone.

Nuevas chispas de actividad surgieron en áreas del ciber-cerebro de Boss que llevaban mucho tiempo apagadas.




"Ey, ukhnem…"

Ba-dum-pap

La pelota de goma rebotó sobre el muro de cemento.

"Ey, ukhnem…"

Ba-dum-pap

La pelota de goma rebotó sobre el muro de cemento.

"Yeshcho razik, yeshcho da raz…"

Ba-dum-pap

Nanami tenía la mirada perdida en algún lugar del muro. Su brazo se movía automáticamente.

"Ey, ukhnem…"

Ba-dum-pap

La pelota seguía el mismo camino tras cada lanzamiento. De la mano al suelo, del suelo al muro, del muro a la mano, una y otra y otra vez.

"Ey, ukhnem…"

Ba-dum-pap

Habían pensado que se volvería loca, en aquellos tiempos en los que aún le importaba pensar.

"Yeshcho razik, yeshcho da raz…"

Ba-dum-pap

La pelota voló de vuelta a su mano y se quedó allí. Ella se puso de pie, y el tono apagado de sus ojos desapareció ligeramente. Extendió los brazos, y su voz creció desde un leve suspiro hasta alcanzar la fuerza máxima de un diafragma profesional.

Tal vez, sin cantaba con suficiente fuerza, su canción la llevaría lejos de aquél lugar.

"Razovyom my beryozu! Razovyom my kudryavu! Ai-da, da ai-da, Ai-da, da ai-da! Razovyom my kudryavu!"

Su voz se deshizo contra las paredes. No podía escapar de esta jaula, al igual que ella. Se derrumbó sobre su cama, y el tono apagado volvió a su mirada. Quizás se quedaría mirándose la mano durante horas hasta quedarse dormida, y soñaría con seguir mirándola durante horas. Sería un cambio de ritmo tras soñar con una pelota rebotando contra el murol.

Así que siguió mirando.

Pasado un tiempo, sintió algo en su cabeza, como si alguien arrancase una película borrosa de su cerebro. Con un pitido, se abrió un chat que llevaba vacío mucho tiempo, esta vez con un mensaje.

[Boss: Oi, mueve el culo. Es hora de reventar cosas.]




Momoko tenía muchas aficiones. Desafortunadamente, puesto que las peleas de bar, la construcción de armas de fuego, la cocina y el surf estaban todas fuera de su alcance, tenía pocas aficiones que pudiera disfrutar de verdad. Se pasaba la mayoría de su cautiverio haciendo ejercicio, hojeando los pocos libros que le dejabn sus captores, y programando sus propios sueños.

El sueño de esta noche consistía en un combate contra elfos-pejesapos de las profundidades en el Outback australiano, montada sobre la espalda de un T-rex con brazos robóticos gigantes y plumas cual jefe indio. Benedict Cumberbatch también estaba allí. Era un palomo. Momoko estaba bastante segura de que eso era un error, pero se le ocurría convertirlo en rasgo intencional para las próximas versiones.

El combate estaba bastante animado y Momoko se lo estaba pasando en grande, cuando Benedict Cumberpalomo abrió el pico y empezó a gritar con el tono exacto de una sirena de aviso civil.

Siempre lo mismo. Con una mueca, Momoko desenroscó la cabeza del hombre paloma. En el hueco de su cuello se hallaba un botón rojo.

No m atter how hard she tried, she couldn’t patch out the "incongruous outside noise to rouse the dreamer" bug. She pressed the button, and woke up.

The siren continued, out in the hallway, accompanied by the sterile voice of an automated alert system.

“Containment breach in progress. Site lockdown procedures initiated. Please report to your designated safe zones. Security personnel to Sector 4.”

Sector 4…she had no idea where that was. Couldn’t be anything good, of course.

The door opened, and there was no one on the other side. A text-voice appeared in her head.

[Boss: Arreando - Nanami necesita ayuda.]

Oh ho! Momoko shot out the open door and sprinted down the hall as site schematics unrolled in her inner eye and a blue AR arrow scrolled out on the floor.

“Containment breach in progress. Site lockdown procedures initiated. Please report to your designated safe zones. Security personnel to Sector 1.”

[Boss: Mierda, estoy atrapada. Se acabó la distracción, vienen a por nosotras.]

[Momoko: Me parece bien.]

Wind kicked her hair back. She could run! Finally! She bounced down the hall, past rows of nameless metal doors, throwing in a somersault or cartwheel every so often for good measure.

She shot past an intersection, and the timing was just right that her foot connected with the head of the guard turning the corner. His helmet’s flight was accompanied by the audible snap of his jaw. Momoko ducked into a roll and kept going. No momentum lost.

More messages appeared in her head.

[Boss: Nanami, apaga de una vez ese sistema de seguridad.]

[Nanami: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ]

[Nanami: HACKEO LO MAS RÁPIDO QUE PUEDO, JODER]




[Nanami (ynapmoc.tibbar.kcalb|hctiBcitamesopA#ynapmoc.tibbar.kcalb|hctiBcitamesopA) se ha unido a adminNet]

[Alexandra ha expulsado a Nanami de adminNet. Razón: Acceso no autorizado. Alexandra ha bloqueado a *!ynapmoc.tibbar.kcalb|hctiBcitamesopA#ynapmoc.tibbar.kcalb|hctiBcitamesopA]

[Comisaria Sorhyu (malb.malb|malbak#malb.malb|malbak) se ha unido a adminNet]

[Alexandra ha expulsado a Comisaria Sorhyu de adminNet. Razón: Reincidencia de Acceso no Autorizado. Alexandra ha bloqueado a *!malb.malb|malbak#malb.malb|malbak]]

[Tsarmina la Vil (ritok.ssertrof|ssertsim.seyeneerg#ritok.ssertrof|ssertsim.seyeneerg) se ha unido a adminNet.]

[Alexandra has kicked Tsarmina the Vile from adminNet. Reason for ban: Repeated Unauthorized Access Attempts, Ban Evasion. Alexandra sets ban on *!ritok.ssertrof|ssertsim.seyeneerg#ritok.ssertrof|ssertsim.seyeneerg]

[Nannersbannanners (srekcuftihs.tahw.rof.nwod|nrut#srekcuftihs.tahw.rof.nwod|nrut) has joined adminNet]

[Alexandra has kicked Nannersbannanners from adminNet. Reason for ban: Repeated Unauthorized Access Attempts, Ban Evasion, Being a Shithead. Alexandra sets ban on *!srekcuftihs.tahw.rof.nwod|nrut#srekcuftihs.tahw.rof.nwod|nrut]]

[Dancypants (41.3tq.a.si.xel|ssefnoc.tsum.I#41.3tq.a.si.xel|ssefnoc.tsum.I) has joined adminNet]

[Alexandra has kicked Dancypants from adminNet. Reason for ban: Repeated Unauthorized Access Attempts, Ban Evasion, Being a Shithead, Hitting on the Bot. Alexandra sets ban on *!41.3t.q.a.si.xel|ssefnoc.tsum.I#41.3t.q.a.si.xel|ssefnoc.tsum.I]

[Varvara (seifisnetni.mehtna.lanoit|n.naissur#seifisnetni.mehtna.lanoit|n.naissur) has joined adminNet]

[Alexandra has kicked Varvara from adminNet. Reason for ban: Repeated Unauthorized Access Attempts and Ban Evasion, Being a Shithead, Hitting on the Bot, Damnable Persistence. Alexandra sets ban on *!seifisnetni.mehtna.lanoit|n.naissur#seifisnetni.mehtna.lanoit|n.naissur]

At this point in the log, three and a half million virus-laden sockpuppets joined all at once.




Hana buckled down under her ballistic shield as bullets bounced off it. The filters in her lungs burned as they scrubbed out the tear gas. Short, shallow breaths, don’t overstrain the hardware. The cool metal door of Tomi’s cell was at her back, there were guards down the hall to the right and left, and she had eight bullets left.

She’d missed all this. Missed it terribly.

[Hana: Necesito que abras la puerta de Tomi!]

[Nanami: ESTOY TRABAJANDO EN ELLO]

[Momoko: Estoy ocupada, voy a llegar tarde]

[Nanami: TENIAS UN PUTO TRABAJO.]

The bickering especially.

There had been a point, months ago now, where she had given up. Seemed distant now, silly even. Captivity had given her a lot of time to think on it, and after a while Hana had realized that she had been a child back then. Unused to real failure. Too easily broken. In need of some hardened edges.

[Nanami: PUERTA ABIERTA GILIPOLLAS (*^3^)/~☆TE QUIERO HERMANA]

Not too many hard edges, though.

The door slid open, and Hana pulled herself back to square the shield in the doorway.

“You’re blocking us in,” Tomi said in her dull gravel voice. Hana twisted her head around to look at her sister, who was sitting on the bed in a serene lack of plussedness.

“Well konichiwa to you too.”

Tomi stood up, cracked her shoulders, then her elbows, then her wrists, then her neck, then her jaw.

“Blind idiot bull-rushes are usually Momoko’s job,” she said as a finger automatically wormed up her left nostril. “I suppose we’ll have to fill in.”




The wave of toxic sockpuppets had scattered across the digital battlefield, like so many dead gnats. The Alexandra AI had retreated across the horizon for the time being, and Nanami had slipped through the breach in the banwall. Her second wave of attack programs ate through the remaining network defenses like hydrosulfuric acid through a cardboard box.

Security was hers. For the time being. The previous officer for this kiosk sat slumped in the corner, with his head facing the wrong direction.

“¿Quién es la leche? Yo soy la leche” she said to herself as she clicked on the microphone and cleared her throat. Oh, this would be fun.

“Uno, dos, uno, dos… Hola, sucios cerdos americanos: Aquí DJ Tsarmina bringing to you the soothing sounds of Johann Sebastian Bach’s 'Air on the G-String', with special accompaniment by the Bleeding Shits Philharmonic Orchestra. Thank you for your participation, and enjoy the show.”

The graceful strings rose from the site’s PA system, joined shortly after by the muffled screams of painful, uncontrollably bowel-loosening. Nanami leaned back in her chair, put her feet up on the control board, and felt the knot of tension that had curled between her shoulder blades dissolve and flow away. With one hand she played around with the lockdown commands, isolated the security squads, sent all-clear communications to the outside.

She had needed that. She really did. She watched the cameras of security guards writhing around on the floor, with the pleasant presence of Bach her only company.

[Boss: Algún día te cansarás de ese chiste.]

[Nanami: Jamás.]




Wizard stood on a plain of pockmarked ice, looking up at the one remaining star in the empty sky. A black star, surrounded by a halo of fading gases, and nothing else.

He felt as if his guts had been scraped out by some jagged claw, and the hole filled with ropes of frozen nitrogen. The cold burned, and he could do nothing to stop it.

This is all there is.

The voice came from inside him, circled around him. Red’s voice. His own voice.

The entirety of existence, dancing towards nothing.

Without meaning.

You are alone. You will always be alone.

And then there was not even the black star and the black sky. There was nothing.

The pain faded. Wizard opened his eyes and saw his room. The echoing voice of Red was gone. Warmth returned to his body, his shuddering faded, his breathing slowed. He tried to sit up, but nausea forced him back down again.

He was dying. He knew it in his gut, he was dying. Red had never been that strong before, not even at the beginning, and he had only grown stronger in these past months. The doctors kept repeating their mantra - “We aren’t seeing any changes, we aren’t seeing any changes” – lies told by liars. To what end, he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It didn’t change the outcome. He would die alone here. The girls weren’t coming. They were probably all dead now, too. Dead or mad. No one could last in this place without going mad.

Madness and death, dancing towards nothing.

He lay on the floor, and was dimly aware of sirens outside his cell, then replaced by distant, indistinct music, but he paid it no mind. Tricks of the imagination, clearly, or tricks of his captors to further torment him. The door slid open. Another trick. That door never opened.

A ghost entered the room. A ghost with calico hair and an orange jumpsuit. Rifle slung over her shoulder, bullet-proof vest.

“Go away,” Wizard said. “You’re dead.”

The ghost walked over, grabbed him under the arms, and hauled him upright. His legs felt like newborn sponge.

“You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re dead, leave me alone…”

Slender scarred fingers deftly undid the pressure seals on his helmet and removed it. It clattered on the floor.

The slap across his face wasn’t harsh, but it stung enough to cut off his words and freeze him in place. The ghost hugged him firmly and didn’t let go.

“Hey there, Wizard,” Boss said.

Whatever response Wizard would have made was held up in his throat for a moment or two, and then came out all at once, in tears and quaking sobs. Boss held him close, and didn’t say anything.

[Boss: I found Wizard, will bring him to the meetup point. Just…give him a moment. He didn’t take it easy.]

[Nanami: No prob, things are quieting down anyway. I’ve switched over to the backups.]

[Boss: Right. We’ll be there in a bit.]

She let Wizard go, and he wiped his dribbling nose on the back of his glove.

“Are the others okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re all fine."

“Thank God…”

“Come on.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Wizard grabbed his helmet and his hat and put both back on. The two walked out into the hall. Piano was playing over the PA system.

“Tchaikovsky?” Wizard asked.

“Piano Concerto 1 in B Flat Minor, I think. Gotta love her theatrics. No one should be giving us any trouble: Anyone not sealed off by bulkheads is in no condition to do anything. Bit of a mess, though, so watch your feet.”

The pair stepped gingerly around a blind-eyed researcher lying in a puddle of every bodily fluid the human person can produce. He wasn’t screaming in pain anymore, which probably meant that he was trapped inside his own mind, watching whatever Nanami had cooked up. Shock porn, most likely. Wizard didn’t feel much like asking. Neither did Boss, for that matter.

[Nanami: ¡Oh ho HO, chicas! ¡Mirad lo que tengo!]

[Nanami: (づ。◕‿‿◕。)づ・。*。✧・゜゜・。✧。*・゜゜・✧。・゜゜・。*。・゜*✧]

[Nanami: SCP-2722]

[Nanami: HYPE MAGIC NOISES.]

[Momoko: ¿Es esto…]

[Nanami: Lo es.]

[Hana: La leche, es una nave espacial.]

[Momoko: Una jodida nave espacial.]

[Boss: Joder, es una nave espacial.]

[Hana: Es una nave espacial del carajo.]

[Tomi: Tiene un Gran Cañón Proyector Ondular.]

[Momoko: No. Mío. Mi husbando. Pelearé por el.]

[Tomi: Ven a por mí.]

[Hana: coge palomitas]

[Nanami: Y la tienen tal cual allí arriba. Una puta nave espacial. Seria una pena que le pasase algo como, no sé, que una hacker atractiva y con talento se hiciese con los códigos de acceso de la lanzadera.]

“¿Pasa algo?” preguntó Wizard. Sabía reconocer los signos de una discusión via TacNet. Qué rapidas habían sido todas en volver a sus antiguos roles, como si nunca hubiesen parado. Boss le respondió con una sonrisa.

“Oh, no mucho. Tan solo que Nanami acaba de sacar algo interesante de sus archivos. ¿Qué te parece si robamos una nave?”

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