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the flying knife above the door. A wiry youth with blue hair and glittering golden tusks entered the bar. Debian side-banded the HUD info about him without thinking. Jalan nodded to the tiny robot – the youth approached the bar. Debian knew that if there was anything untoward about the newcomer then his avatars would have pulled it up already and warned him.
    His brain was spinning. He let it spin, bubbling away faster than his conscious mind could even follow, full of attack code and counter-attack code, avatars and AI research, net shadows and sub-verters.
    Hex watched him, unnoticed, for several minutes. He knew what he was looking at – a genius caught up in his own world. Like an artist envisioning a great work, perhaps a painting which would be his masterpiece, the hacker was no longer truly in the room. Hex was a man who appreciated people who were good at their work. He had heard many positive things about Debian from his employer. He was genuinely impressed by this intense young man now that he had met him in person. There was something in Debian’s demeanour that made him more impressive than his appearance alone would suggest. He oozed seriousness , confidence and intelligence. Although his crystal eyes betrayed nothing, it was clear that behind them was happening a very deep, rapid thought process.
    Hex cleared his throat. Debian jumped slightly, returning visibly to the bar. The golden-tusked youngster was sitting with a huge glass of beer now, checking his watch with the nervous impatience of the stood-up. Debian’s avatars checked the man’s personal scheduler. He was indeed expecting an acquaintance by the name of Sanna – a female, presumably.
    ‘Three hundred thousand,’ said Hex quietly, and now Debian’s attention was truly re-engaged. Not by the sheer amount of currency on offer here, but by the importance of the job that the amount of money suggested. This was several times greater than any payment the employer offered him before. And there had been some big payments.
    ‘This is a big deal for you guys, isn’t it? Really.’
    ‘It will be a big deal for you if they catch you,’ confided Hex, sotto voce .
    ‘They won’t, so it’s all good.’ Debian smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Truth be told, his people skills were lagging further and further behind his computer skills these days, but it seemed to have the desired effect.
    ‘Good. We think their backer might be a government.’
    There was silence between the men as Debian digested this information. Hex played with his tumbler, empty now save for the last diminishing pebbles of ice. He looked as if he was considering getting another. The prospect of making this business meeting a sustained social occasion was not an enticing one to Debian. He pointedly re-capped his water and stowed it in a pocket. Hex took the hint and resignedly pushed away his empty vessel. The young hacker intrigued him and the atmosphere of the bar was compelling in an earthy sort of way. But business was business and distance must be maintained.
    ‘Which government?’
    ‘We don’t know. Find out if you can. We may be wrong.’
    ‘Interesting…Should be a good test for my new system.’
    ‘You can contact me on the same address as my predecessor. Wait five minutes before you leave,’ Hex told Debian, standing and snapping the two halves of his coat together, making a hermetic seal against the dribbling rain outside.
    Debian nodded, making eye contact. For the briefest moment Hex could actually see the whirling, dancing code behind those milky lenses. Electrons rushed and bustled there, skipping between computer chips and grey matter. He wondered what Debian’s new system might comprise and whether this young man was really up to the challenge. Without another word, Hex turned and swept from the bar, coat-tails playing about his ankles. For a second, he paused in the doorway, framed against a strip of night. A bouncing gravpod whistled past