Chapter Two
"Listen, it's a mistake, I've got to go..." mumbled Widget.
"Too late," said the red-haired girl.
Widget looked at her in confusion, and then... heard the sound of engines starting. Then she felt heavy, as if the room was lifting into the air...
"Wha... This is not some kind of flying machine, isn't it?" asked Widget, completely lost.
"A plane, actually," clarified the girl. "Thought they were a common sighting where you came from, you having all these gadgets."
"O... kaaay," said Widget indecisively, "that I can understand... some kind of military model with vertical take-off... but the ceiling? I thought the cave had one?"
"Paper-thin ceiling. A few explosives on the wall, a button press from here, and we're ready to leave. And I hate leaving, especially when it's because of people like you poking their noses into every whole you can find. What are you, a news reporter?"
"Since you dragged me here, I should really be the one asking this question," answered Widget.
"Precisely," said the girl.
She stood up, taking off her robe, exposing her legs — and something strange between them. A tail. An orange-red, furry tail, of the same color as her hair. She then reached for her hair, combing it backwards and revealing her ears, previously hidden under it. Those were fox-like ears, covered with fur of the same color as the hair and the tail. Coupled with her large, expressive blue eyes, this made her look almost like an anime kemonomimi character — except not drawn, but obviously real, living and breathing.
"Whaaaaaa..." cried Widget.
"Unfortunately, as you can see, science has yet to invent a name for what I am," said the foxgirl. "Not like I bother with it, anyway. Who I am must be an easier question, you have probably heard of me."
As she was saying this, Widget wiped her eyes. Then once again. And again. "You're... You're one of these animal-people, from amino... Japanese cartoons," she uttered.
"So, you haven't heard of me," stated the foxgirl impatiently.
"No."
The girl unwrapped Widget's passcard and looked at it more thoroughly. "Omnisoft," she said half-excitedly. "Well, of course, with the agility of a turtle, how would they know about Firefox?"
"Firefox?" repeated Widget.
"That's Mozilla Firefox for your blog, if you're keeping one," said the foxgirl. "Me. Well, well, one of the competitors' folks, how convenient. Now, how—"
"Mozilla?" Widget interrupted her. "One of those Mozillas?"
"Yes, one of those, the bane of Omnisoft," said Firefox. "You could call me the last one, if not for Birdie. But hey, an insider from there, that certainly changes things! Sweet fate, I might even... yes, that's what I'll do, right now!"
"Do what?"
"Well, first tell me, messenger of fate," Firefox said the two last words in a distinctly overblown manner, as if smacking them and enjoying it, "What's your name and occupation in Omnisoft?"
"Widget Styler. Internet department, head of security strategy."
"Security!" exclaimed Firefox, clenching her fists excitedly. "No, definitely, it's now or bust. Welcome to Mozilla Corporation, Widget Styler, our new chief security... er... something. Screw it, I'll ask Breezy how we call it."
She unwrapped Widget's cellphone, put her sensor over it and pressed a button on the sensor. After this strange move, she opened the phone and replaced the SIM card with another one, which she pulled out of a pocket in her dress. Meanwhile, Widget was elaborating on the response.
"Mozilla... Corporation?" she asked. "Isn't it a foundation left over from —"
"Don't mention that!" suddenly abrupted her Firefox, and her eyes became filled with sorrow for a moment. But only for a moment, before her joyful mood returned. "Yes, it's a foundation now as we're speaking, but nobody said it will always be that way. Birdie and I are the sole owners, most of the stocks ended up bought out by figurehead companies and such, to avoid suspicion. Shocked the old board enough, needless to say, all got fired faster than they could blink. Pulling a Wayne, basically. So, as you can see —"
"Wait!" This time it was Widget's turn to interrupt. "I'm not working for you. I have a job at Omnisoft."
"Probably, probably not," said Firefox. "Even if you still have, they've traced you here — were you to return, they'd make you tell them everything you saw, and that includes us — not that I mind, I'm done hiding, but they'd mind-wipe you..."
Widget shivered.
"Yes, that's the natural human reaction to the thought of someone meddling with their brains. If only they were so protective of their electronics..." continued Firefox.
"They can't be that cruel!"
"Yes, hard to believe when it's not a cyberpunk dystopia you see around you, but a beautiful world where people are walking down the streets and smiling." Firefox sat down on the floor, stretching both legs. "But this world has been seized by MNCs long ago, and in the computer industry their power is coming to an end."
"An end?"
"Yes, and about time, too, of course they try to delay the inevitable, but soon old-timers like Omnisoft will collapse, and that'll be the end of the world as we know it. Widget," Firefox crawled to the ex-Omnisoft manager and put hands on her shoulders, "You've got to see it! It will be some show!"
An uneasy silence ensued."
"In other words," concluded Widget, "you enjoy watching the economy suffer and people losing their jobs."
"No, I enjoy watching conspiracies come to light and fail. Those executives are so overconfident, 'nothing can possibly go wrong', except it always does. The people who just happen to work for them certainly don't deserve it, hence my offer, you may accept, you may not."
"So, to clarify," said Widget. "You're going to watch business empires fall, one by one. Do I understand your intentions right?"
"Almost," smiled Firefox. "I'm not going to just watch, I'm going to participate."
She dialed a number on Widget's cellphone...
Widget looked into a porthole, observing the landscape beneath them; the plain had obviously been descending for a while, and, as she understood, they were going to land soon. After several minutes of flying above the coast — presumably the Pacific coast — the plane took a turn inland, going past a port town.
"We're in southern Calorington," explained Firefox. "We'll land halfway between Seapoint and Sighting Hill, but the Sea Monkey will go a bit farther and land somewhere in the wilderness for distraction."
"Then the pilot..." started Widget.
"The landing's automated," said Firefox. "She's going with us, let's go take the parachutes, and while you're at it — stop carrying this thing around, you can't land with a camera hanging from your neck." She took Widget's camera off her and put it on the floor. "Ah, there she is. Thunderbird, my twin sister."
The pilot — female, of Firefox's age, as Widget now saw — exited the cabin.
"Blue hair?" exclaimed Widget.
"Birdie, take off that headset already," said Firefox, laughing mildly. "It's actually white," she added, turning to Widget. "She just dyes it light blue, says it's a protest against fashion or something. Never quite got that."
The three put on parachutes. Firefox opened the door.
"Now, prepare to jump."
"But how do I deploy the parachute?" asked Widget.
"RTFM," replied Firefox. "No, wait, there's no time for that. But it's foolproof, there's one handle, just pull it out. Nowhere to screw up."
"And what do we do once we land?"
"We wait," said Firefox. "Breezy is on the way, but it will take him about ten minutes to find the exact place, after we send out the coordinates."
"Breezy?.."
"Never mind. Jump."
...As Widget was waiting impatiently on the road, the Mozilla sisters packed the parachutes and dumped them into a nearby river; they were surely concerned about leaving evidence behind.
The car soon showed up: a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, driven by a bulky, forty-something man with a square head, wearing oval glasses.
"Breezy!" exclaimed Firefox. "When I said 'cool car', I didn't mean it that way!"
"Why not?" shrugged the driver. "You are a corporate executive now, my otome. The legend says I'm going to escort the new management from Seapoint, so you're almost legally bound to look respectable. Besides, you don't have to use this beauty as Firefox. Only as Story Baker."
Widget blinked.
"Hardly respectable in... this," mumbled Firefox, looking over her and Thunderbird's garments — worn and dusty, not to mention informal.
"Hence the bracelets. I was going to have a ceremony, but since you're not an admirer of them... we'll do it now and here. But get in first. And you, lady," he said to Widget, "take the front seat."
They got into the car; Widget found a computer monitor, which seemed to be on, directly in front of her. Breezy opened the glove compartment and took out scissors and two bracelets. "Put them on, and cut off some hair for DNA locking," he said, handing them to the Mozillas on the backseat.
Having acquired the samples, Breezy put Firefox's hair on some kind of touchpad and pressed a button on it, then repeated the procedure with Thunderbird's hair, and finally pressed another button. Meanwhile, Widget observed the readings on the monitor. A progress bar was filling at the top, with the mouse cursor (although there was no mouse) attaining the hourglass form. Under the progress bar, there was a plain old console outputting a log:
"It is complete," reported Breezy.
"Awesome!" said Firefox. "Now, what do I say to activate it? 'Materialize'? 'By the power of... er... Greyskull'?"
"To be honest, we decided that voice activation would be too complex to fit into such a small chip," answered the driver. "It is simpler than that. Flip the switch."
"Too late," said the red-haired girl.
Widget looked at her in confusion, and then... heard the sound of engines starting. Then she felt heavy, as if the room was lifting into the air...
"Wha... This is not some kind of flying machine, isn't it?" asked Widget, completely lost.
"A plane, actually," clarified the girl. "Thought they were a common sighting where you came from, you having all these gadgets."
"O... kaaay," said Widget indecisively, "that I can understand... some kind of military model with vertical take-off... but the ceiling? I thought the cave had one?"
"Paper-thin ceiling. A few explosives on the wall, a button press from here, and we're ready to leave. And I hate leaving, especially when it's because of people like you poking their noses into every whole you can find. What are you, a news reporter?"
"Since you dragged me here, I should really be the one asking this question," answered Widget.
"Precisely," said the girl.
She stood up, taking off her robe, exposing her legs — and something strange between them. A tail. An orange-red, furry tail, of the same color as her hair. She then reached for her hair, combing it backwards and revealing her ears, previously hidden under it. Those were fox-like ears, covered with fur of the same color as the hair and the tail. Coupled with her large, expressive blue eyes, this made her look almost like an anime kemonomimi character — except not drawn, but obviously real, living and breathing.
"Whaaaaaa..." cried Widget.
"Unfortunately, as you can see, science has yet to invent a name for what I am," said the foxgirl. "Not like I bother with it, anyway. Who I am must be an easier question, you have probably heard of me."
As she was saying this, Widget wiped her eyes. Then once again. And again. "You're... You're one of these animal-people, from amino... Japanese cartoons," she uttered.
"So, you haven't heard of me," stated the foxgirl impatiently.
"No."
The girl unwrapped Widget's passcard and looked at it more thoroughly. "Omnisoft," she said half-excitedly. "Well, of course, with the agility of a turtle, how would they know about Firefox?"
"Firefox?" repeated Widget.
"That's Mozilla Firefox for your blog, if you're keeping one," said the foxgirl. "Me. Well, well, one of the competitors' folks, how convenient. Now, how—"
"Mozilla?" Widget interrupted her. "One of those Mozillas?"
"Yes, one of those, the bane of Omnisoft," said Firefox. "You could call me the last one, if not for Birdie. But hey, an insider from there, that certainly changes things! Sweet fate, I might even... yes, that's what I'll do, right now!"
"Do what?"
"Well, first tell me, messenger of fate," Firefox said the two last words in a distinctly overblown manner, as if smacking them and enjoying it, "What's your name and occupation in Omnisoft?"
"Widget Styler. Internet department, head of security strategy."
"Security!" exclaimed Firefox, clenching her fists excitedly. "No, definitely, it's now or bust. Welcome to Mozilla Corporation, Widget Styler, our new chief security... er... something. Screw it, I'll ask Breezy how we call it."
She unwrapped Widget's cellphone, put her sensor over it and pressed a button on the sensor. After this strange move, she opened the phone and replaced the SIM card with another one, which she pulled out of a pocket in her dress. Meanwhile, Widget was elaborating on the response.
"Mozilla... Corporation?" she asked. "Isn't it a foundation left over from —"
"Don't mention that!" suddenly abrupted her Firefox, and her eyes became filled with sorrow for a moment. But only for a moment, before her joyful mood returned. "Yes, it's a foundation now as we're speaking, but nobody said it will always be that way. Birdie and I are the sole owners, most of the stocks ended up bought out by figurehead companies and such, to avoid suspicion. Shocked the old board enough, needless to say, all got fired faster than they could blink. Pulling a Wayne, basically. So, as you can see —"
"Wait!" This time it was Widget's turn to interrupt. "I'm not working for you. I have a job at Omnisoft."
"Probably, probably not," said Firefox. "Even if you still have, they've traced you here — were you to return, they'd make you tell them everything you saw, and that includes us — not that I mind, I'm done hiding, but they'd mind-wipe you..."
Widget shivered.
"Yes, that's the natural human reaction to the thought of someone meddling with their brains. If only they were so protective of their electronics..." continued Firefox.
"They can't be that cruel!"
"Yes, hard to believe when it's not a cyberpunk dystopia you see around you, but a beautiful world where people are walking down the streets and smiling." Firefox sat down on the floor, stretching both legs. "But this world has been seized by MNCs long ago, and in the computer industry their power is coming to an end."
"An end?"
"Yes, and about time, too, of course they try to delay the inevitable, but soon old-timers like Omnisoft will collapse, and that'll be the end of the world as we know it. Widget," Firefox crawled to the ex-Omnisoft manager and put hands on her shoulders, "You've got to see it! It will be some show!"
An uneasy silence ensued."
"In other words," concluded Widget, "you enjoy watching the economy suffer and people losing their jobs."
"No, I enjoy watching conspiracies come to light and fail. Those executives are so overconfident, 'nothing can possibly go wrong', except it always does. The people who just happen to work for them certainly don't deserve it, hence my offer, you may accept, you may not."
"So, to clarify," said Widget. "You're going to watch business empires fall, one by one. Do I understand your intentions right?"
"Almost," smiled Firefox. "I'm not going to just watch, I'm going to participate."
She dialed a number on Widget's cellphone...
* * *
Widget looked into a porthole, observing the landscape beneath them; the plain had obviously been descending for a while, and, as she understood, they were going to land soon. After several minutes of flying above the coast — presumably the Pacific coast — the plane took a turn inland, going past a port town.
"We're in southern Calorington," explained Firefox. "We'll land halfway between Seapoint and Sighting Hill, but the Sea Monkey will go a bit farther and land somewhere in the wilderness for distraction."
"Then the pilot..." started Widget.
"The landing's automated," said Firefox. "She's going with us, let's go take the parachutes, and while you're at it — stop carrying this thing around, you can't land with a camera hanging from your neck." She took Widget's camera off her and put it on the floor. "Ah, there she is. Thunderbird, my twin sister."
The pilot — female, of Firefox's age, as Widget now saw — exited the cabin.
"Blue hair?" exclaimed Widget.
"Birdie, take off that headset already," said Firefox, laughing mildly. "It's actually white," she added, turning to Widget. "She just dyes it light blue, says it's a protest against fashion or something. Never quite got that."
The three put on parachutes. Firefox opened the door.
"Now, prepare to jump."
"But how do I deploy the parachute?" asked Widget.
"RTFM," replied Firefox. "No, wait, there's no time for that. But it's foolproof, there's one handle, just pull it out. Nowhere to screw up."
"And what do we do once we land?"
"We wait," said Firefox. "Breezy is on the way, but it will take him about ten minutes to find the exact place, after we send out the coordinates."
"Breezy?.."
"Never mind. Jump."
* * *
...As Widget was waiting impatiently on the road, the Mozilla sisters packed the parachutes and dumped them into a nearby river; they were surely concerned about leaving evidence behind.
The car soon showed up: a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, driven by a bulky, forty-something man with a square head, wearing oval glasses.
"Breezy!" exclaimed Firefox. "When I said 'cool car', I didn't mean it that way!"
"Why not?" shrugged the driver. "You are a corporate executive now, my otome. The legend says I'm going to escort the new management from Seapoint, so you're almost legally bound to look respectable. Besides, you don't have to use this beauty as Firefox. Only as Story Baker."
Widget blinked.
"Hardly respectable in... this," mumbled Firefox, looking over her and Thunderbird's garments — worn and dusty, not to mention informal.
"Hence the bracelets. I was going to have a ceremony, but since you're not an admirer of them... we'll do it now and here. But get in first. And you, lady," he said to Widget, "take the front seat."
They got into the car; Widget found a computer monitor, which seemed to be on, directly in front of her. Breezy opened the glove compartment and took out scissors and two bracelets. "Put them on, and cut off some hair for DNA locking," he said, handing them to the Mozillas on the backseat.
Having acquired the samples, Breezy put Firefox's hair on some kind of touchpad and pressed a button on it, then repeated the procedure with Thunderbird's hair, and finally pressed another button. Meanwhile, Widget observed the readings on the monitor. A progress bar was filling at the top, with the mouse cursor (although there was no mouse) attaining the hourglass form. Under the progress bar, there was a plain old console outputting a log:
2006-06-01
mozilla-smjs-0.9.3-rc
x-type
high technology
matter
link
burning edge blah blah debug
using dd5store-1.3.1-1mozilla4
analyzing...
stored as 10.67.1.0.1
analyzing...
stored as 10.67.1.0.2
assignment complete
"It is complete," reported Breezy.
"Awesome!" said Firefox. "Now, what do I say to activate it? 'Materialize'? 'By the power of... er... Greyskull'?"
"To be honest, we decided that voice activation would be too complex to fit into such a small chip," answered the driver. "It is simpler than that. Flip the switch."
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