[SESSION id=0.7]: Segmentation Fault
Permission Flags
"I have a request, an apology, and a few words to offer," the supervisor was shocked to see me standing in her door at the start of the workcycle, even before the Affirmation. "Which would you like first, ma'am?"
"Well, I suppose the words, then the request. You can skip the apology." She smiled. "You may be the best in this office, but she's the best in [world]" I blushed at the double compliment. "You're bound to miss every so often. Beside that, it was a rest cycle."
"Fair enough," I shuffled into the room and sat in front of her. "Still, I feel like I should've seen this coming. The last four cracks have been in the weather subsystems. And I just didn't see this."
"Oh, it's worse than that." She stood and crossed the door, closing it before returning. "The cleaners were called in as soon as it started. They couldn't find even the slightest hint of it. Everything looks completely, utterly, entirely normal." Her face was tight, her skin shining a bit more than normal. Sweating? It wasn't even hot in the office. "It's like it never happened."
"Can I be candid, ma'am?" She nodded. "That doesn't make me feel better. There should be logs. And if someone's deleting them, there should be logs of that." I grinned. "Even I can't do things without some evidence."
"That's exactly what I said." She put her forehead into her hand. "Oh, I wanted to ask. Even tells me you prefer your last name. Is this about the reason you were in isolated education when you were younger?"
"Indirectly, ma'am." Couldn't tell my boss I was cross-coded, but could admit using my last name was easier. "Really common in isolated learning to strip the given name. I got used to it. Even my girlfriend doesn't call me Lawrence." Not entirely false. We weren't using that word yet, but she definitely didn't call me that name.
Her brows shot up. "How do you have time to date? You're here until ninety degrees some nights." She raised a hand. "Don't actually answer that. I don't need to know."
"So," I leaned in, waiting for her response.
"Right. I'll make an announcement. From now on, our favourite golden-boy will be called Antella. Or A." She smiled softly. "You've worked with me fifteen supercycles, and this is the first I'm hearing of it."
"Trying to be more candid with my associates, ma'am." It was true, even if it wasn't quite honest. "Even Even will tell you I've been trying to open up. Girlfriend's influence, if I'm honest."
"Well, she's good for you," why did she look disappointed? "It's a shame, though. You're a handsome fellow. I was planning to introduce you to my daughter." She gave a long sigh. "Oh well. What did you need?"
"I have a lead on something that might get us closer to Flower_Princess and Silver_Thorn at the same time." I forced a grin. I was already close to both of them. "But I need information on pulling user permissions. What are the parameters, the options, the expectations." I counted the items off on my fingers before looking back to her. "Can I have temporary access to the man pages for all userspace commands? And also, access specifically to the user probe subsystem?"
Her laughter was refreshing, even if I didn't know what it was about. "You could've asked for access to your personal motherlode. TERRA probably would've granted it for you to catch her. And you're here asking for the absolute most limited permission necessary for the job." She shook her head, then met my gaze. "A cracker who begs for a challenge to the very end."
I shrugged, which made her laugh again, harder.
"We have hard copies of the core system tool man pages in the short term." She walked to a bookshelf and pulled one down. "You can borrow my personal copy. Return it before the next rest cycle."
USER (1)
Name:
user - access root user database, querying specific user data
Synopsis:
user ACTION [OPTION]... USERNAME
Description:
Print user data specified in ACTION and OPTIONs for the provided USERNAME.
If no USERNAME is specified, queries current logged in user. If no ACTION
is specified, the help message is displayed.
Author:
Written by Elia Gideon and Ayuna Nara.
Actions:
probe, --p
Ping the root user database to confirm the existence of USERNAME prior
to the query action. If the probe fails, query is aborted, returning a
warning about user identity.
update --u
[DEPRECATED. Use userdbctl]It was dense. Just the user command went on for almost forty-five pages of instructions, details, clarifications, options, actions, and so much more. It contained a comprehensive description of the permission flag system.
While I already knew the basics, reading the manual was an excellent refresher. I'd stared at permissions so long I'd forgotten about the structure. Eight bits. Two direct actions. Six indirect. Write, execute, then six bits for read. Four groups like that. Each one associated with one of the sectors, divine or not.
Users, source, logs, kernel. Each was divided into six subsectors, and write-execute access only applied to subsectors with read access. Easy. Clean. Simple.
LT:
> Hey, ST. How do permission flags work?
> Wait. Better question. What are your permission flags?
ST:
> I'll show you mine if you show me yours.Rude.
LA:
> Do you know any sysadmins? My ... friend ... won't answer my questions.
> I need to know about the permission flags.
JN:
> | USR | SRC | LOG | KRN |
> | --- | --- | --- | --- |
> | DB | RT | CLN | INS |
>
> Wait. Why am I telling you this. Go read a book.Fair.
I kept reading. I had four cycles to sort the details so I would be sure not to break anything when I finally caved and tried it out.
Connection Protocol
LA:
> I've been reading. A lot. Dangerous, I know. But it's fascinating.
> I've never seen so many tools built by a single user. Or rather, group.
> Four names keep popping up as I read through the core system tool manual.
>
> I don't know if it means anything, but these women were prolific.
> Honestly, it feels like what you and I always wanted to do.
>
> So. I'll give you a bit of the truth. Only a bit. I'm not asking forgiveness.
> Not yet.
JN:
> Nope. Don't do it. Hold onto your truth until we meet in person.
LA:
> Not even a little? Come on. You have to be curious?
> And it'd give you something I know you love.
JN:
> Which is?
LA:
> Leverage.
JN:
> Fine. Tell me the barest sliver of the tiniest fraction of the minimal quanta.
> Nothing profound. Just a hint. A taste. A gentle kiss of truth.
LA:
> I loved you. I was jealous of your reaction to Flower_Princess.
> Because I was supposed to be yours. But you loved *her*.
JN:
> LILLIAN. THAT IS NOT A HINT. A TASTE. A GENTLE KISS.
> That is an entire fucking meal. That's sex and a nico-stick.
> That's a whole ass home with a family and children and a pet.ST:
> I heard through various seedy channels that someone's been a bad girl.
> A friend of a friend of a customer of my sister's.
> She overheard a conversation about a friend of hers. Receiving a confession.
>
> So of course, I was curious. Turns out, [world] is terribly small indeed.
> Separated from your own Miss Flowers by only five steps.
>
> And here I thought you and I were building something, my sweet flower.
>
> Wait.
LT:
> Wait ... what?LA:
> So. Here's the thing. I know you're seeing someone.
> And I'm kind of seeing someone. And I have a stupid question.
> But it's not about whether we should meet at last after twenty supercycles.
JN:
> Because we're already planning that. On your next generation anniversary.
> Barring, of course, some serendipitous accident where we
> - stumble into each other in a mutual haunt
> - realise we are who we are
> - and kiss in the light of the setting skylight
> But please. Ask away.
LA:
> All of those things. For reasons. Have I told you about how I met my ...
> my ... well ... person?
JN:
> Is that your question?
LA:
> No. It's just eerily similar to what you just described.
JN:
> Word gets around you know. All the non-cross-code women have a big group chat.
> We share the gossip. Its the only way to keep ourselves safe from the danger.
> Not cross-codes, of course. You're all great. From men.
> Cross-codes are harmless of course. But you understand ... you're pretty safe.
LA:
> Sure. Of course.
> The question is. Do you ever think about returning to the game?
JN:
> You mean your stupid Task Manager Simulator? Of course not.
> I'm kidding.
> No. I never left the game.
LA:
> Oh. Then. I have potentially interesting news.
> Something big fell in my lap. I'm thinking I need to start writing again.
> Like we used to.
> Get back to it myself.
> What do you think?
JN:
> If you are lying to me, Lillian, I will never forgive you.
> Do you mean it? Do you really mean the famed LA Thorn and JN Flowers ...
> Are going to crack together again?ST:
> About what I said. I called you 'flower'. I hope that's okay. Rose. Lily.
> Lillian. You're a flower to me. It wasn't supposed to mean anything.
> Except with how I talk about the Princess. I was worried you might take it ...
> badly.
>
> If you don't like it, I'll never do it again.
LT:
> It wouldn't be the first time a woman called me a pet name.
>
> It would be the second.
> And I made the first one my entire personality, if I'm honest.
ST:
> Oh? You'll have to tell me about the woman who called you "My sweet recluse".
LT:
> Ha. Ha. I'm logging off now, my cruel torture mistress.
ST:
> Ooh! I like that one. Do you prefer whips, chains, or gags?Stall Process
It took three cycles for my permissions to be upgraded. One single extra permission. Just enough to use the user command and start probing the database. Probing the mountain, one pebble at a time. If I knew the username, I could get info about it.
I started small, curious.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ user probe -pl Lawrence.A
username: Lawrence.A
permissions: 0xE27CA512Very small. Probe for permissions and label. Showed me exactly what I needed. Of course, I was curious just how far the permission reached. Not very, apparently.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ usermod -l Lillian.Thorn Lawrence.A
Access denied.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ userdbctl
Access denied.Ah well. A girl could dream. I decided to check someone else. Might give me insight into what I should expect. Surely couldn't be too exceptional.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ user probe -pl Jazz.Moon
username: Jazz.Moon
permissions: 0x463EA381It wasn't a fluke. Interesting to see her level. Lower than mine. But she was a sysadmin. She wasn't at TERRA. I'd be more concerned if she did have comparable permissions.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ user probe -pls Flowers
User not found.Odd. That should've returned something. Right? Her name was J.N. Flowers. That's what she told me. So there should be an account for her.
I let that circle around for a while before I realised I'd made a mistake. It's not Lawrence.Antella. It's Lawrence.A. Still. I had to test.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ user probe -pls Antella
username: Lawrence.A
permissions: 0xE27CA512She lied to me. I couldn't blame her. I lied to her enough times. First when she found me, I told her I was a girl. Not a cross-coded girl. It was a full supercycle before I told her I was cross-coded. Another when we were writing the manifesto. I didn't tell her I'd already found the eraser.
Even so, it hurt a lot to know she'd lied.
Then I remembered. Neither of us had shared our real names. For all I knew, her initials might've been ZQ. Though that was unlikely. There were no standard names starting with either letter. What would be the odds that two girls with nonstandard names would stumble into each other like that.
LA:
> Your real name. It's not Flowers.
JN:
> And yours isn't Thorn.
LA:
> It will be if any of this works. Lillian Thorn. Do you like it?
JN:
> Of course I do. Maybe one cycle soon, I'll tell you my real name.
> Lillian Thorn. What a shame you disappeared for so long. I wouldn't mind it.
> Being Mrs. Thorn. JN Thorn. I thought about that a lot back then.
LA:
> That's kind of funny. I always wanted to be LA Flowers.LT:
> Hey, Silver. I was just thinking. Neither of us would have to change her name.
ST:
> Uh? What?
LT:
> Sorry. Was talking to JN. Both of us wanted to take the other's name.
> If you and I married. It would just work.
ST:
> I think you're forgetting, Miss Thorn. My real name isn't Thorn. It's Moon.
>
> Also ... you want to marry me? We've only kissed once.
LT:
> I don't want to *not* marry you. It was just a thought.
ST:
> Cheating on your girlfriend with your ex-girlfriend, Lillian?
> How dare you! Vile thing. It's a good thing I like you.
LT:
> Girlfriend?
ST:
> Shut up. Only if you want it.Neat.
I spent the rest of cycle testing. Over and over. When we recited the Cyclic Affirmation, I returned the supervisor's manual and did something entirely unprecedented.
As everyone left the office, I followed them. I needed to see my girlfriend before I risked everything on my goal.
Buffer Overflow
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ user probe -pl phyllo
username: phyllo
permissions: 0x7F7F7F7F
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ user probe -pl Lawrence.A
username: Lawrence.A
permissions: 0xE27CA512It was impossible, and yet, there it was. Right in front of me. I'd never once seen permissions like that. Who or what was phyllo supposed to be? Even Flower_Princess didn't have that kind of permissions, and I'd cheated to get her as high as possible.
Access to everything. Every aspect of the system. Every. Single. File, directory, command, user, group. Down to the last bit. phyllo could read absolutely anything in the entire system. Execute any script, any tool, anything. How as it possible?
I'd never seen xx11 1111 permissions, let alone x111 1111. A wall of them across all four sectors?
Jazz said she'd created the account. She hadn't stumbled into it. According to her, this was her creation. So she was lying about something. I couldn't say what. I wasn't even sure she could say what.
ST:
> Did you check it? I bet you did. Come on, Lillian! Don't keep me waiting.
LT:
> How?It was the only question that mattered. She would either answer or keep lying, but I couldn't wait for the response. More important things were waiting for me.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ sudo su phyllo
password: meadowThe terminal hung. That was unusual. A simple switch user command, especially one with a direct target, should finish nearly instantly. What in [world] was happening under the surface?
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.3
╰─λ sudo su phyllo
password: meadow
╭─phyllo@Ω in ~ via > 0.0.b
╰─ωWhat was happening on my screen? None of that was legal terminal behaviour. I should know. A child would know. I realised as the sound of my workstation's fan alerted me that I hadn't done anything or said anything since it finished logging in. I was just staring at the impossible.
LT:
> What. And I cannot stress this enough. Is this?
> ╭─phyllo@Ω in ~ via > 0.0.b
> ╰─ω
ST:
> I told you. I couldn't log in. Is that what it's doing?
> Oh to be looking over your shoulder right now. Maybe I *should* get caught.
> Get recruited. Sit next to you, our shoulders touching.
> Maybe steal a kiss every time you lie about hunting down the Princess.
LT:
> Bend the truth. Would you turn *me* in? No. You'd bend the truth for a friend.
ST:
> So what are you going to do now?
LT:
> What else? Check the database. She has access, whoever she is.╭─phyllo@Ω in ~ via > 0.0.b
╰─ω userdbctlIt was over in an instant. Not because it failed. Because it worked. And I hadn't considered the consequences of calling the database without bumpers. I watched in horror as information screamed by. Names. Numbers. Ages. Sexes. Usernames. Permission strings.
Blinking wasn't an option. I had to see it all. I couldn't miss a thing. This was a miracle, happening in a single cycle tick.
Every single person who ever lived. All their database fields, flying past. And I saw it. I was certain. Amidst the noise, the chaos, the impossible, there it was. rose. The illegal name. Situated neatly amidst every user who had ever had an account in the system.
And then, even as it was still fighting to display the data, the fan ramped up. Too fast. Impossibly fast. The machine was humming with life it wasn't supposed to have.
Illegible data flew by and then vanished.
KERNEL PANIC: Segmentation Fault in Process userdbctl (PID 999999) - Attempt to access unmapped memory region.
KERNEL PANIC: Out of Memory (OOM) in Process userdbctl (PID 999999) - Unable to allocate 16 Exabytes.
KERNEL PANIC: Thermal Error. Shutting down.The screen went dark. Only the slowly fading light of my workstation's power indicator served as a glowing reminder that anything had been happening moments before. Impossible. Unbelievable. Incredible. phyllo had access to the divine. Whoever or whatever she was. And it was utterly ridiculous!
I don't know how long I was on the floor laughing. I only know I started to ache from the uncontrollable noise that escaped me. How was it all so simple, and yet so difficult?
Light shone through the windows as I heard the door's lock click, but I was still laughing, still incapacitated. Still overwhelmed with the absolutely absurd nature of [world] laid bare in a few console commands.
The supervisor had me escorted home for the cycle. I received three cycles recuperation time with compensation.
I'd seen the face of the divine, and it had told me the true state of everything. And that state could be summed in two words. KERNEL PANIC.