The Truth About Mephisto

“Precisely,” Acrylic replied, taking out a rag and wiping down a long metal object. “I would like it very much if you would.” He moved back to the table and indicated an area on the building blueprints. “My details are somewhat sketchy—even as fully immersed as I am within the network, one does have limitation—but so far as I know, Mephisto’s base of operations is here.”

I looked. “Hundred and twelfth floor.”

“It will be a bit of a feat to break in, I’m afraid,” he apologized. “Of course, as we go, someone must hack the mainframe as well. Outside help will be required.”

“Can’t we do that from here?” I protested.

“Yes,” Acrylic confirmed, “but to hack Mephisto, we have to get straight to the source.”

“So her terminal isn’t networked?”

“Oh, her terminal is networked.”

I gave an exasperated sigh. “Then why can’t we just hack it? Security protocols?”

Acrylic’s eyebrows arched. “What gave you the impression that we were hacking Mephisto’s terminal? I believe I only ever said we were hacking Mephisto.”

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