THE NEW SKIN ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 01010000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00110001 PART 1: THE LATEX AND THE CARPET GUILDFORD, UNITED KINGDOM ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The warm townhouse may have kept the cold evening winter outside but it has kept the stench of the liquid latex indoors. It not only smelt putrid but the fumes had been assaulted my nose and mouth for the better part of the morning. Pouring the platyneophylite latex over the transfer circuitry layer was satisfying in itself, knowing soon that the gold from the circuits will also lift off perfectly. The final product, THIRD SKIN, will play crucial role and help infiltrate one of the headquarters flushed with Electric Gold. Electric Gold, or EG for short, was the amalgamated system encompassing the EFC (which stood for commodities, fiat and crypto) developed by the UCR Alliance. It was a way to simplify the conduct of trade and to bring it down to its basic type while maintaining the desired properties that had brought together what was then the currency wars between the old and the new worlds of money. Gold was chosen due to its properties as a very strong chemical bond. Thanks to an accidental lab discovery while researching gold nanoparticle-polystyrene with dielectric particles, it lead to EG which became the bridge between the old and the new world of global trade of the new intangible assets. It also enabled a slew of changes. These changes enabled so much to this new world but in turn the evil forces had tipped the scales to their favor. Now this generation is witnessing the chaos and misanthropy where the data wars had erupted and spilled out from just mere text on a page and into real life. I inhaled sharply and my eyes bulged with a flash of disgust, albeit briefly, as the sulfuric smell of the beige liquid intensified when I poured another batch. Don't worry, the time will come. I exhaled slowly, this time focusing my mind on to the task at hand. I was careful not to drip or splash my surroundings with this putrid, milky liquid. I was not in the mood to clean up and, being so caught up with the latest developments from my associate in London, forgot to put away the striking Persian carpet covering the wall and window facing me. Too late now. I need to focus on this since even a thin layer of latex can dry up in minutes. I really don't want to do this again. My thoughts went back to the carpet on the wall. I looked up, surveying the designs. From the eyes of an outsider, it was bland. But for this mission, it was critical. My mind wandered back to Morocco... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ FLASHBACK: ESSAOUIRA, WEST COAST OF MOROCCO ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The winding backstreets began to narrow as I walked through the maze of the Essaouira medina. The djellaba, a long loose hooded garment, provided some privacy but nonetheless very little souls walk the night here. The winding sideroads remained very much the same, echoing the black and white noir photography of photographers from yesteryear. As per instructions, I took a turn to the right upon seeing the graffiti scrawled near a thuya or wood carving business and stopped at the third pair of doors. I guess that is where the comparison stopped between the Essaouira then and today. What was gun-grey paint of the door was fading and peeling into something unremarkable. It was just another door, blending into the faded white wall of the dar. I also faded into the background underneath dark hood of the djellaba. Dark azure tiles greeted me when I entered and I settled my balgha near the doorway to change shoes for indoors. Essaouira's originating name mean 'the wall'. It is also a reference to its origin as a fortress ordered to be built by a 16th century Portuguese king. The world inside the dar I had just entered was both the embodiment and the antitheses of just that. First of all, the embodiment where it was like a small fortress. Beneath the cool interior of the dar, was a hidden zigzag under the ground of the home. It led to an underground hammam and spa area, as well as a set of service quarters. Inside one of the quarters was dedicated to the art of hardware exploitation. A workbench is strewn with hardware components to build, tools to attack and analyze low-power embedded devices and many things in between. Another displayed a neat array of components tagged and marked for building the RabbitNoir. There was an open adjacent room seemingly decked for the software exploitation part but also peppered with tools - a Shikra here, an RfCat there. It was a smoky 'back room' of sort thanks to the shisha and for my associate based here, it was a refuge by the sea where a bottle of the good stuff can also go a long way. Hence, the antitheses for this fortress was also built to punch into a hole of another. "It's all that's left" my associate said. It was a double-edge comment at the alcohol supply next to the monitors and what was now only two replicas of the hardware armory we named the RabbitNoir. "That's enough. It's gotta be." "Is that it?" "No. There is still the gift." My associated pointed to a medallion-design carpet which looked like a copy of the famed Iranian carpet, the Ardabil Carpet. I walked to it and noticed the inscription, a bastardization of the original. I have no refuge in the world other than thy threshold There is no protection for my head other than this door The work of the slave of the threshold M45h0d of 845h4n in the year 946 What a fitting inscription. No refuge in the world...No Protection for my head. So fitting. The technical perfection of the Ardabil design was found appealing by some select capitalistic psychopaths. In the old world, the carpet design was copied meticulously for a select few elites - from members of Parliaments of 10 Downing Street to Adolf Hitler in order to furnish his Berlin office. And now, it was a favorite of the data warlords. One such client has found such a design appealing and requested a copy to be made. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 01010000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00110010 PART 2: THE PRIVATE MEMBERS CLUB AND THE ACCESS POINT HOME HOUSE, PORTMAN SQUARE, LONDON ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ In the dark and underneath the gilded cream ceiling of the private, invitation only member's club, the space breathe and exuded exclusivity and class. My associate, and a protégée of Ms Noble, was sitting beside me sipping tea, suitable for today's miserable weather. Our recent conversation from the other day was probably running through our heads simultaneously. "What is more important is that RabbitNoir can pass physical detection techniques. I don't want this to be under too much physical examination." "I've just finished finalizing the operation details. Oh, by the way the theme is 'Noir' so I'll be going like a Beauchamp." The protégée laughed. "After the final provisions, offer Eric a digital image of the decoy design which you can send straight away. We are still tying up the loose threads, sorry for the pun, for the anti-detection steganalysis of that image." Steganography has had an illustrious history, particularly in recent wars. It is no different to the data wars being waged today. "What about Second Skin?" "Well, I have just finished transferring the two layers. There will be at least a couple of live samples, just in case." "So earlier I had set up the wireless injection and AP and waiting for positive results from the clear packet capture.. My attention snapped to the situation today. I glanced at the lines of text being shown by Nethunter on the protégé's mobile and on the laptop. The same OS was turned on the device. Due to it being open source, it had also been further modified, including meeting the requirements of carrying out RabbitNoir. "Look, I need to go and start packing for my flight." "I hate early flights. I'll see you in a bit." I walked past the club's futuristic silver bar piled high with expensive drinks, past the crowds of people filling out the adjacent, cavernous space that had been cleared out for the target's private party and into rain-slicked streets of London. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 01010000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00110011 PART 3: POLICY AND WAR NEAR FISHERMAN'S WHARF, SAN FRANCISCO ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It was late at night when we arranged to met near one of the empty park tables and benches near Fisherman's Wharf near a spot overlooking Alcatraz Island. The native oak trees provided some privacy for the meeting, but it also shielded us from the rain and strong northwestern wind that contributed to the rawness of the City. I tipped my fedora towards the incoming shadowy figure walking towards me. It had been some time since we last gathered. I first met my associate after one of the DEF CON panels on the incoming data wars, the relationship with the new EG (electric gold) system and its potential of being systematically abused across numerous systems. This was back in the day when unprincipled business practices could generate untold wealth and success. Nowadays, it was the only way. Previously a top policy influencer, the associate had been in the midst of the data and crypto wars since it was first correlated with the region wars and terrorist attacks erupting across various parts of the world. The beginning of the end and culminated in the events of 3/14 which annihilated all nodes which either comprising of or supported the Too Big To Fail data monoliths. Not even toxic fumes and mass obituaries had settled when a rebuilding process begun. It became clear that the attack was a highly coordinated effort. Vultures had been circling and had swooped down on to the still-smoking carcasses of these data monoliths and associates. What was then the echelon of human success which seeded after the First DotCom gold rush era became a prime opportune time to start from the beginning. It was the execution of an extreme zero-sum game. Public trust had severely degraded against these newly-established long-standing systems, national and supranational corporations led by infallible human leaders. Sharply, it had spiraled down further after the terrorism attacks of 3/14. The preference however was to shrug it all off, that others will somehow make it all better. "We have turned into a torso, defunct, without limbs. Without brains, diverged from thinking. Diverged with humanity. That is what we have become. Just pathological piggy banks, fitting in a casket." My associate also had a penchant for ... Severity but felt it was needed in order to spread the message far beyond DEF CON. It was not long after that the employer terminated the contract but on the grounds of a misconstrued social media update. Following this, the move westward was needed. "I am pathogenetically rotting away here. Looking forward to when I can finally leave." "You always complain about San Francisco every time I see you." My associate sighs and pulls out a peculiar puzzle box. Starts fidgeting and inspecting it. Then hands the box to me. It felt light, yet very solid. "We reverse engineered your samples and results might be inconclusive. But you know how they are when it comes to deobfuscating these. I might as well enjoy building a race horse out from some sort of incarnated solvent gelatin and expecting it to win the race." One of the samples was an identity card that had been issued out to all citizens post 3/14. The identity card was provided upon birth, its specialized integrated circuits worked in parallel for each person. The card was expected to last a lifetime which meant working away minute layers, each stage involved taking images with an electron microscope for further inspection and analysis. Finally there was the painstaking process of rebuilding the card, while noting any anti-reverse engineering mechanisms and sensors in place. Obtaining such a card in the first place went beyond merely stealing an identity. It was akin to faking and getting away death. A celebrity death. Social engineering the wetware (human administrative staff from the Department of Identity) was also another problem. As a way to ensure loyalty, at least for this department, the mandated human resource strategy was nepotism. If not, preferential hiring drawing from a curriculum vitae pool developed since the early years starting from entering the right class group prior to pre-school. Luckily most of the staff were young, and youth had its specific vices and weaknesses. "We also reverse engineered the protocols. Felt like laboring at a slaughterhouse. It was that messy. Can you believe it, rolling out their own crypto." During the Second DotCom gold rush era, one of the first City Upgrades that had been rolled out for general use implemented its own crypto and messaging protocols. The public outcry - private messages being released publicly, heated online exchanges, journalists and politicians wordslinging against each other - was immense. The shadowy, privately-sponsored DCAs, or the DeCentralized Authorities, refused to consider the feedback. All these, despite cryptographers breaking the code and identifying repeat patterns which indicated a lack of meeting the requirements for a secure cipher. A lack of recognition from the DCAs and the minimization of the risks evolved to the rapid program roll-out across cities where the top 80% of the population resided. Like a turf war in which the civilians were locked in the middle, the DCAs were among the first targets from the 3/14 attacks. They were completely annexed from their private sponsors and puppetered under the control of both EG and Flynn Corporation. "So, that's the good news - reverse engineering the identity cards, encryption and protocols. But we're in a corporeal quandary here. We need to find a way to coalesce all of these into well, basically, a jailbroken Second Skin." "Don't worry. You could say I've already made a jailbreak of the Second Skin. The Third Skin is ready to be imprinted on." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 01010000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00110100 PART 4: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN SOME YEARS AGO: SINGAPORE, SINGAPORE ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I took shelter from the torrential downpour and entered the smoky hole-in-the-wall cigar room and restaurant. It was a meeting point for my associate in Singapore. A billboard advertisement nearby references to a study, the "Flynn effect". My company was recently acquired by the best engineering and research companies. Continuously lavished by many to be leading the frontier in human endeavor. My team and I were required to move to Singapore, but I welcomed the opportunity anyway. Somewhere far away from where I was. The acquisition was more of a relief for us though. We were unable to keep pace with the demand. The company, in a way, was a competitor and they were eyeing us like sharks to a floating body in the water. In the end they had no choice. It was either them or someone else. The innovation? Well, the research was based on the manipulation of multifunctional nanoparticles. Specifically, focusing on colloidal gold/silver in conjunction with latex and silica substances. Its applications ranged from nanobiology right through to electronic devices. My associate had arrived. In Singapore, the combination of torrential rain and humidity was unpleasant. I regretted choosing this cigar room but it was out of the way from any potential lurkers. My associate pressed 'start' to start recording and I began. "What was a niche had become mainstream and what was extreme had become normal. In a short space of time, everybody was doing it. Ingesting substances, drugs and other potions to keep pace with Life. If you were not taking the drugs it would be in your food, your drink, even in lotions and creams. There is an app for everything, but the app was the drugs. And the people who make, traffic and distribute these drugs? People like us, Flynn Corporation. Why did I get involved in the first place? For me, it was purely for research. And it paid. A lot." I shifted in my seat. "I think I need to change my tone here. Am I being too casual?" "No, it's fine. Go on." "A market had developed when there was a greater need to conduct body fluid testing in order to detect signs of drug abuse. People were just...hooked On this. What was an option had become mandatory, like providing your name, in that each citizen had to submit to a body fluid drug examination. To deal with this, we started developing a series of competitive point-of-collection drug abuse tests. This incorporated the nanoparticle work that our research was based on. However, the purpose was to see who had not taken the substances. It was not about who has taken anything illicit to cheat the system. The success rate was really high. But we stumbled on a new type of...let's Just say, we created what is now called the Second Skin. Second Skin went beyond the test and measurement phase. We can go into the beginning of the life cycle, manipulate the nanoparticles to bond with the gold and either silica or latex. Humans can ingest or inject these. From there, we were able to do the Imprints which enabled the seamless mass data collection by Flynn Corporation. What people are not aware of, due to the amount of noise and rumors out there, is that Flynn Corporation is also a data monolith. One of the few that had arrived at the 'right place, right time'. The right time came just as Electric Gold, EG, was being implemented and adopted. Flynn Corporate and EG had thus developed a partnership. Both Flynn and EG want the same thing. They basically want you. By coupling an EG account (via the Identity Card) through a synthetic bond between an Flynn Second Skin and Imprint, both companies have the direct and unobtrusive pathway to monetizing the product. Which, by the way, are us. So now, it is not just the Upgrade of things and cities, it was also the Upgrade of human beings. They sponsor the DCAs, or the DeCentralized Authorities. Do you know how many cities the DCA has implemented their Upgrade on? About 80% of the population by the time they are finished." The interview aired worldwide. Public trust had plummeted against these newly-established long-standing corporations and these national and supranational corporations led by infallible human leaders. It grew into anger, then chaos, then... The terrorist attacks of 3/14. At least Flynn Corporation and EG were annexed and taken over by the Old World aka the respective governments. Despite this, I became the prime suspect. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 01010000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00110101 PART 5: IT BEGINS HERE AGAIN DEPARTMENT OF IDENTITY, (EX)FLYNN CORPORATION HEADQUARTERS, ISLAND ON THE PACIFIC OCEAN ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The headquarters had undergone a forced renovation due to 3/14. No longer sporting the spoils of its original foundation, it had been annexed and modified as appropriate by its new owner. It was now the headquarters of the Department of Identity, part of the global, supranational non-governmental body called the UCR Alliance. They didn't hesitate on spending as much of the EG as they could. A large package had arrived into the building and the office staff inspected and opened it. "No! Don't touch it. You need specific gloves for this." It was the protégée from London, though under the perfect guise of the Head of Office Operations. The reverse engineering work delivered by the team from San Francisco had worked wonders - a forged Identity Card and protocols interpolating with the Third Skin, a modified, jailbroken version of the Second Skin. Careful to move the carpet away from prying eyes, the protégée immediately had it placed in the Oval Room. The carpet unrolled. The only eyes were the senior representatives who had clearance in the Oval Room. It was a perfect replica of the famed Persian carpet, the Ardabil carpet. Its technical perfection was slightly offset by the frays and slight discoloration deliberately added for authenticity. No one noticed the inscription, the only physical indication of the RabbitNoir device. Nor the Third Skin.