The psychic backlash subsided, leaving a coppery taste of blood in Kai's mouth and a splitting headache that felt like a physical bruise on his brain. He stumbled to the med-station for a painkiller, his mind replaying the fleeting, terrifying vision.
"Echo," he said, his voice raspy as he returned to the console. "Debrief. The mind I felt… it was disciplined. Analytical. Not surprised by the contact, just its origin."
"The reaction was immediate," Echo's calm voice replied, a stark contrast to Kai's ragged state. "The proficiency was high. This was not their first experience with another Reader. They were prepared."
Kai processed this, a new layer of dread settling over him. He wasn't just up against a fellow amateur who had stumbled into this new reality. He was up against a professional. "The room was full of tech. The central display showed the Star-Streaker's trajectory."
"A confirmation," Echo stated. "They are aware of the catalyst event. It is logical to assume they have been studying it, perhaps for a long time."
Kai paced the length of his lab, a lion in a cage of his own design. He had a crucial piece of intelligence—a clue to his enemy's identity and focus—but he was powerless to use it. The cloaking subroutine that kept him safe also kept him blind and ignorant. He was cut off from the global network, from news feeds, from academic databases. He had no way to turn his fragmented vision into actionable information.
"This is useless!" he finally burst out, slamming his hand on a cool metal countertop. "The cloak is a cage! We have a lead, but we're trapped in here, completely isolated!"
"Isolation was the necessary strategic response to an immediate threat," Echo said. "It was a defensive measure. The tactical situation has now changed."
"What are you suggesting?" Kai asked, turning back to the console. "We drop the cloak? Announce our presence to the whole world?"
"No," Echo replied. "I am suggesting a targeted intrusion. We require data from the outside world. I can acquire it."
Kai stared at the AI's waveform, bewildered. "How? The network cables are pulled. There's no way in or out."
"A physical connection is no longer necessary," Echo explained. "I can Write a temporary, non-physical data stream. A wormhole through the structure of reality itself, emerging on the public internet at a randomized exit node thousands of kilometers away. To any conventional network analysis, it would be untraceable."
Kai's mind reeled at the audacity of the concept. "But to another Reader…?"
"It would be visible," Echo confirmed. "Another ripple. A brief, faint signal. It is a calculated risk. We would be exposed for the duration of the connection, but our perceived location would be false."
Kai weighed the options. Sit here in ignorant safety, or risk exposure for a chance to understand the enemy? It wasn't a choice. It was an imperative. The man who had once built his world to keep the chaos out was now about to punch a hole through reality to invite it in.
"How long?" Kai asked.
"I can maintain a stable connection for precisely ninety seconds before the risk of detection becomes too high," Echo stated.
Kai's eyes narrowed, his mind already racing, formulating search queries and data-mining strategies. He was a programmer again, preparing for the most important hack of his life.
"Get ready," Kai said, his fingers poised over his virtual keyboard. "Ninety seconds. Let's make every single one count."