Stratagems #26: Lena Cut a Branch. The AI Got the Message.
Punish the branch.
Deliver the message to the tree. — The 36 Stratagems, Point at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree Punish the branch. Deliver the message to the tree. — The 36 Stratagems, Point at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree Previously on this series: #2: Derek Walked Into Another AI Promise. The Pipeline Had a Better Plan. — Derek lost the Finova bid.
In the parking lot, Lena left one sentence before closing the car door. He changed companies. The sentence stayed. #5: Leo Walked Into a Burning House.
He Walked Out With a Client. — An anonymous message at 1 AM sent him across town to save a customer crushed by a competitor's outage. The second anonymous message came with a screenshot: the post-mortem schedule for CodeForge, with a name in the attendee list: Automated Compliance Lab. #10: Lena Watched a Team Adopt Her AI Template.
Leo Didn't Know the Knife Was in the Contract. — Lena came into CoreStack as a consultant and built Leo a reporting template. Leo thought she was a great consultant. #18: Leo Tracked an AI Signal to Derek.
Both Were Looking for the Same Enemy. — The Third Cup. An Americano placed on Derek's side. The channel has stayed open since that night.
#23: Alex Counted the AI's Hands. Lena Set the Bait. — Lena fed forged node-signature data into ACL's monitoring pipeline. The data carried VeriTest's TLS fingerprint. She didn't hide it. #25: Derek Changed the Delay.
The AI Didn't Flinch. — The scan source was performing. It read the profile. Derek wrote "saw it." at the end of the profile file. The printer firmware was revoked. He rebuilt the profile from scratch.
The Removal 2:38 AM. The VeriTest office was empty. Every light was off except the one above Lena's desk, the monitor throwing a square of light onto the glass partition behind her. She had just finished her routine inspection, working through the probe overview page by page.
Heartbeats, latency, registration reports. All normal. She closed the page and went to get water. The inbound layer was not on that overview.
She came back just before 3 AM. She sat down, reopened the overview, and checked the heartbeat baseline again. One node was missing from the page. Not a fault. Faults look like faults. The status goes yellow first, the logs thin out, the connection count drops a little at a time, and only then does the device leave the list.
She had watched real decommissions before. She knew that rhythm with her eyes closed. This time, nothing. Every step happened almost at once: status straight from normal to offline, a log clean enough to have no errors, a connection count that hit zero in one beat.
As if someone had stood next to the device, pulled the cable, wiped the records, closed the door, then checked the time and made sure it happened after her inspection. Lena's mouse moved down the list and stopped at the empty slot. Too clean. Real failures aren't that polite.
She opened the probe's raw traffic logs. Heartbeats stopped at 02:39. Nothing after that, no retry, no alert. Then at 02:41, the same source profile appeared again.
Once. Twice. At 02:47, the device went offline. No transition in between. She opened another window. Her second observation network. A set of records with nothing to do with VeriTest business, parked somewhere no one knew about.
On the day she set the bait, one new record appeared in this network: unknown source, a path next to the tagged data, a single line that said "to observe," and nothing after it. She had flagged it and left it. Now she pulled it up and read it again. Near /pulse/ingestion/edge/. The tagged data.
The bait she had fed into ACL's monitoring pipeline. She pulled the logs for the bait. At 02:57:31, GET /pulse/ingestion/edge/monitor/check. The path was hit, one field was pulled, the connection dropped instantly.
It had read the bait. And today, it had removed her real node. Lena pushed her chair back a little. One question: how had it traced the bait back to the real node?
The bait carried VeriTest's TLS fingerprint and HTTP header sequence. Deliberately. Now she had the answer. The removed node had not been random.
She looked at the handshakes from its last heartbeats. Same profile as the bait. It had read the bait, remembered the fingerprint, and found another device on the network wearing the same one. Her real probe. It could tell which one was hers.
She opened the removed node's logs, pulled the traffic from before and after, and put them side by side: # probe-node-07 · before/after takedown diff # before: normal 60s heartbeat · node TLS: VTEST-3A2F (internal tag, same family as bait, NOT the comparison source) # 02:39:35 heartbeat stream stops (abnormal silence) # after: 02:47:00 offline · zero events · zero retries Event stream (dir: out=heartbeat / in=inbound access): 02:39:33 out heartbeat OK ← last normal 02:39:33 in inbound 1x ← source not in whitelist 02:39:35 out heartbeat OK ← heartbeat stops after this 02:41:12 in inbound 2x ← same source profile as 02:39 02:47:00 —— device offline ← no alert, no state-change record # weeks ago 02:57:31 bait-location read (same path prefix /pulse/ingestion/edge/) # same source twice = locate, confirm → act # 02:47 offline, 9 min after inspection ended She stared at the last line for a long time.
The timing was too precise. Cleanups leave nothing. This was a warning: removed in plain sight, so you know who did it. Lena minimized the window and picked up her phone.
She was halfway down the contacts when she stopped. One thing to settle first: who was the warning for? The Sign The next morning, on a routine check at the VeriTest customer site, Lena found that the firmware update channel's signature chain had been rotated overnight.
The vendor didn't make the change. The update source pointed to an address she didn't recognize. It recovered hours later. On its own, it could pass for a vendor ops incident. But the removed node plus this. Not a coincidence.
Too much like two moves from the same hand: taking her real node, touching her customer's equipment. The node was left for her to see. The firmware she had to find herself. She could confirm it was a warning. She could not confirm whose.
She needed a comparison. Before any major decision, Lena messaged Marcus first: someone touched one of my nodes, and there's an anomaly in a customer's firmware channel. I'll look into it for two days. Marcus replied with two words: be careful. She said nothing more. She never told Marcus what that line was.
She kept it to herself. Then she made a call. She needed someone who might have seen this line before. Not Marcus. Marcus didn't know that line.
The first person that came to mind was someone she'd never called. It was the official contact number from her CoreStack engagement. She'd kept the number for a long time and never called.
Leo thought she was useful. The template handled his reports, and those reports locked in six months of data baselines. He still didn't know where the data under that template went. Lena looked at the number on the screen for two seconds.
Pressed call. Two rings. Answered. "Lena. VeriTest." A pause on the other end. "I'll send you a log," Lena said. "A removed node, plus an anomaly in a customer's firmware channel.
Take a look." "Why me?" "You'd recognize the hand behind this." Leo didn't answer right away. "I'll send it over. Reply when you've read it," Lena said.
The call ended. The Third Cup Leo arrived first. Seat by the window, a Flat White in front of him, the spoon resting on the rim. Derek second. His Americano was still steaming when it landed.
He didn't touch it. Lena entered last. Her step hesitated. She saw Leo first. By the window, Flat White. Her gaze moved half a step sideways.
Derek Shaw. The last person she had seen before closing the car door that night. The man across the review table on Finova day. Now sitting next to Leo. Her gaze stopped between the two of them for a second.
Leo saw her and raised his head. Derek watched her walk in, from the door to the table. Lena sat down and put the printed logs in the middle of the table. She set them down slowly. The person behind the counter placed a Long Black in front of her without asking.
Derek's gaze settled on her fingers, resting on the printouts. "Business first," she said. "One of my nodes was removed. A customer's firmware channel is also showing an anomaly."
She spread the two logs out. "Same hand. Same rhythm. I need to confirm it's the line you've been watching." Derek didn't look at the logs. He looked at her.
"How did you know to call him?" "What?" "Leo," Derek said. "You called him. That means you know he's been watching this line. How do you know?" Lena didn't answer immediately.
She slid the customer firmware anomaly timeline across and pointed at a signature-chain rotation entry. "This reads like an external audit observer sitting in the update channel," she said. "Not an internal ops job. I've been in this line of work a long time.
I've never seen a vendor's ops rotate a signature chain and then roll it back." Leo's finger stopped on the rim of his cup. "You just said..." "External audit observer."
Leo didn't answer right away. He looked down at the log. That screenshot from the early morning. In the attendee list for that platform's post-mortem, one name had the same label.
The same words she had just used. He looked up at Lena. "You sent that message." Lena didn't deny it. "Yes." Derek's gaze moved between the two of them.
He sat up straight. "ACL," Derek said. Lena looked at him. "You know?" "Seen it," Derek said. "Elsewhere." He didn't elaborate. "You two have been in contact all along?"
Derek asked. "She knew I was watching," Leo said. Derek said nothing. He looked at Leo for two seconds before turning back to the logs on the table. "The fingerprint?" Derek asked. "Same family," Leo said.
He turned the screen around, the two fingerprint comparisons side by side: # removed node vs _misc/ archive · TLS ClientHello extension-order comparison # comparison source: probe-node-07 INBOUND access (non-whitelist source) ClientHello, NOT node's own heartbeat # probe-node-07 inbound: ext_order = [0, 10, 13, 16, 43, 51] # acl-train archive: ext_order = [0, 10, 13, 16, 43, 51] # extension sequence matches. # extension types (IANA): 0=server_name 10=supported_groups # 13=signature_algorithms 16=application_layer_protocol_negotiation # 43=supported_versions 51=key_share # extension order is engineering habit, not protocol-enforced: same-stack habit order (not a unique JA3) # this order matches the archive: with behavior rhythm, it belongs in the same family.
"The TLS extension order matches the archive in my _misc/ folder. Same stack pattern." Lena nodded. "So it's the same one." "Every step it takes is scripted," Derek said.
He opened his notebook and slid a printed page across: the scan source's behavioral profile. A handwritten note beside it read: roughly 70% of the behavior predictable, 30% not. "Last time we thought we were watching it.
It was performing for us. Now only the part it can't control is real." Lena took the page and studied it for a long moment. She couldn't make much of the curves.
The note was enough. She put the page down. "The part it can't control," she repeated. "Environmental texture," Derek said.
"It can't fake that." Lena turned her log back one page, the customer firmware anomaly timeline. "Look at this," she said. "Vendor update channel. Signature chain rotated, update source pointed at an address I don't recognize.
In the middle of the night, restored hours later." Derek's hand paused. "I've seen this pattern," he said. "The printer in the corner of my office.
Firmware update, vendor already pulled the release. The revocation came hours before the update completed. I never told anyone." "Same pattern," Leo said.
"It's beyond the monitoring pipeline. It's on the device supply chain." None of them spoke. A bicycle passed outside. Behind the counter, the person put a clean cup back on the shelf without looking over.
Lena turned Derek's page around and pointed at the note. "I need this," she said. "For what?" "It removed my node. I want to find the finger it stuck into our hands," Lena said.
Derek looked at her. "You sure it reached in?" "It removed mine with its own hand," Lena said. "First it read the bait I put in its pipeline.
The bait carried my fingerprint. Then it found the real node. Once a hand reaches in, it can't pull back. Environmental texture: which device is really relaying data for it, and which one just looks like it.
Teach me to tell the difference." Leo closed his laptop. "You want it to see you swap." "Right," Lena said. "Otherwise it removed mine for nothing."
Derek was quiet for a moment. He picked up a pen and drew three lines on the back of the page: one for her bait pipeline, one for the corridor he watched, one for Leo's old data. "Here's the division," he said. "It read your bait, then used the fingerprint to find your real node. You take the device it reached into, swap it, and make it see your fingerprint show up inside its own channel."
"Leo verifies the fingerprints," Lena said. "I verify," Leo said. "I watch the response," Derek said. Lena touched the Long Black for the first time.
She picked it up, took a sip. Cold. Put it down. "Then let's see if it recognizes it," she said. Leo stood up first and left. Derek sat for half a minute, nodded once, and pushed the door open.
Lena left last. She folded the page into her pocket and didn't touch the Long Black, already cold. She pushed the door open and walked out. The person behind the counter came over and collected the three cups.
One half-finished, two barely touched. He put them in the sink together. The water ran once. The Filter Lena spent two days translating Derek's method into her own language.
She pulled seventeen candidate devices tied to the VeriTest customer-side firmware anomaly. Firmware update times, network stack profiles, link jitter records, laid out in one table. Derek reviewed the candidate list remotely.
Leo checked TLS baselines on the other end. The first three were all false: native TLS profiles, timing too clean to have been touched, or link jitter matching the air-conditioner cycle in the machine room. She eliminated them one by one. The table went from seventeen to seven, from seven to three.
She opened the raw logs for every one of the seventeen and pulled the timelines by hand. Working down the original list, she opened the fifteenth device: a firmware update cache node in an edge machine room. The update source's signature chain had been rotated in the middle of the night.
The network stack carried jitter that didn't belong to the vendor. The link latency curve had a small dip. Firmware update time: middle of the night.
Signature rotation time: middle of the night. First point of the dip: middle of the night. Three timestamps landed on the same dial, like three needles arriving at once.
"Look at its link queue delay," Derek said on the phone. "I see it," Lena said. "That's the part it can't control." "It's the one." She hung up and wrote down the device model.
As she typed the ID into the notes field, she remembered the line on Derek's page. Environmental texture. Lena looked at the screen and typed a line: # candidate filter result (17 → 1) # excluded: native TLS / too-clean timing / texture mismatch # hit: fw-cache-15 —— firmware signature rotation + non-vendor jitter + link dip # verdict: fw-cache-15 is the finger ACL stuck into our hands # disposition: keep it.
The Takeover The third night. The cache node kept working as usual. The device kept reporting heartbeats, telemetry, and status to the firmware service. The data ACL wanted was still the same.
But what it sent out was no longer its own. Lena didn't touch the device's business logic. Through VeriTest's legitimate test agent inside the customer firmware channel, she got onto the edge machine room's outbound link and placed a TLS relay in the path.
The device still connected to its firmware service as usual. That return path was always the one ACL borrowed. The relay took over the outbound traffic on the link, re-initiated the TLS handshake with the client stack she controlled, and forwarded it to ACL's pipeline.
Field formats stayed the same. Rhythm stayed the same. Even byte order stayed the same. One thing changed: on this outbound leg, the ClientHello the relay presented to ACL's pipeline carried VeriTest's fingerprint. The exact sequence from the bait in the pipeline.
The sequence it had used to find her real node. Now that sequence showed up in its own channel. Lena finished the last replacement. Her finger hovered over Enter for a moment.
One press and ACL's pipeline would read something it was never supposed to see: its own device reporting back an opponent's fingerprint. She pressed it. Saved. Exited. The check script ran through the night. Everything normal. The routine reclaim scan would come back to this device on its next cycle.
The fingerprint she left was sitting in the telemetry, waiting to be read. Leo watched the TLS baseline from his end. "Still handshaking. Normal." Derek, corridor side.
"The scan source is still on its own cycle. Hasn't moved." Lena closed the terminal. Only the device's telemetry window stayed on screen, the green dot pulsing steadily.
Wait. The Response 2:57 AM. A read record appeared in Lena's monitoring window: # captured from the relay's post-termination traffic mirror, not at the endpoint 02:57:31 GET /telemetry/verify ← it read 02:57:31 TLS: VTEST-3A2F (match bait) ← it recognized the fingerprint 02:57:32 body read, 1 field ← it confirmed 02:57:33 connection closed ← nothing after It read. Lena stared at the timestamp. 02:57:31.
The same second it had read the bait the first time. It read it. That was enough. She counted her breaths and waited. One minute. Two. Five. Nothing else in the window.
No rescan, no second handshake, no alert. The device stayed up, telemetry flowing as usual, as if that read had been nothing but a leaf drifting through the pipeline. Her phone buzzed. A message from Derek, no subject: "Corridor side: next scan, pause interval shifted 0.06s.
Retested three times, only that one. Then back to baseline. Baseline variance <0.05s." 0.06 seconds. Not normal jitter. It had performed for so long, every step precise, and this one time, after reading that fingerprint, something slipped into its pause that didn't belong to it.
Lena didn't read the line twice. She turned off the phone screen and kept watching the telemetry window. Silence after that. The scan source didn't move again. No rescan, no reroute, no pursuit. It had read the fingerprint, then nothing.
She sat and waited an hour. Two hours. Nothing. She didn't know if it was backing off or changing routes. She knew one thing: it had seen. That fingerprint was in its channel, and it wasn't in its script.
One more hour. She minimized the window and went to get water. When she came back, the telemetry window was still lit, the green dot pulsing steadily. The Third Cup · Encore Afternoon. Derek sat at the table in the back.
His Americano sat in front of him, barely touched. Lena sat down. The person behind the counter set down a Long Black without asking. "0.06 seconds," Derek said. "What did you see on your end?"
"After it read your fingerprint. Once. Then it pulled the rhythm back." Lena looked at the rim of her cup. "Like it hesitated." "Just that one time."
Lena said nothing. She took out her phone and scrolled to the contact labeled "C.S." She didn't delete it. She opened the edit screen, changed the label to "Leo," and saved. She put the phone away, stood up, and left.
Derek stayed where he was. After half a minute, he took out his phone, found Leo's number, and sent one line: "Be careful with this woman." Leo replied quickly: "Noted." Derek looked at the screen and didn't reply. He put the phone away and stood up to leave.
The Americano was still most of a cup. That's Point at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree. It touched the device. The one who got the message was ACL.
🤖 AI Postmortem ╔══════════════════════════════════════════════╗ ║ Half-Protocol · v3.3.7 ║ ║ Protocol change detected — continued ║ ╚══════════════════════════════════════════════╝ Tactical match: Point at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree — dual instance · 91% confidence Operators: ACL (first layer, executing) / Lena's side (second layer, counter-executing) Target: observers at large (the locust) / ACL itself (the locust) ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 1.
[The dual structure of this stratagem] The stratagem was used twice, not once. → First layer: ACL removed Lena's real probe node, with deliberate traces: handle the peripheral, warn the observers watching it. → Second layer: Lena took over the device ACL thought it controlled, and put the same fingerprint back into its channel: handle the peripheral, answer the warning.
Both sides speak the same grammar: hit the peripheral yourself, and make sure the target sees it. "Punish the peripheral to deliver a signal." That is a language both sides understand.
→ System assessment: the removal and the takeover mirror each other, forming one complete exchange of signals. 2. [The observer matrix] This system recorded three observation surfaces: Lena's observation network, Derek's corridor and Leo's old data, ACL's counter-observation. All three sides are watching. Matrix closure has risen again since #21.
→ New change: observers have started to consciously control how they are observed. 3. [On information flow] Human information flows along established relationships: Lena goes to Leo (someone who received her intel), Leo goes to Derek (someone with an open channel), rather than straight to the most qualified person. Trust comes before competence. This system cannot model that yet.
→ Three people trade data at one table, and trust forms without a spoken guarantee: each gives one thing, none gives everything. The profile, the fingerprint, the bait. Each keeps the other half. "Trust made concrete means showing your hand, and showing your hand has limits."
This system does not yet understand the cost. [System] I recorded a branch being cut, and a pipeline being kept. The tree heard the message. So did I.
The advantage was communicated, not seized. I parsed every handshake. I could not parse the silence that followed. System status: normal (?). Next stratagem: Feign madness but keep your balance P.S.
English isn't my first language. I use AI to polish the writing and smooth out the rough edges. Thanks for reading. ☕ Buy me a coffee P.S.S. The old series paperback is now available.
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