DB Sommer wrote on 9/17/2004, 12:33 PM:
>
> Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot
> Chapter 11
Hah! I'm actually almost on time with the C&C this time! Take
THAT,
Real Life!
> Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> "Got your toothbrush packed?" Cross asked.
>
> "Yeah, Mom. I packed clean underwear too," Killgore said through the
around
> pen in
> his mouth as he finished inventorying the items that he would take
> with him
> to YSC headquarters on Danube. The list was small, since it was only a
small<>short
> system away from their current position orbiting above the pleasure
> moon of
> Xyphos 13. The moon was the nearest inhabited planetoid to Danube,
> without
> actually being in the system of the same name.
>
> Cross's expression went from lighthearted to serious. "How long do you
> think
> you'll be?"
>
> Killgore shrugged. "It's hard to say. I want to see Springer
> personally, and
> given the circumstances, I wouldn't be surprised if she's near the
> president
> himself, which means it might take a while to get in touch with her.
> Depends
> on how long her leash is."
...must...resist...cheap shot...reflex....
> Cross nodded his head almost imperceptibly. "Yes, with the Holcomb
fiasco
> over with, Scorphius only needs one more thing before he becomes a real
> threat."
He's got ZEIRAM, fercryinoutloud! How much more "major" of a
threat
could he become?
...ooog. That gives us a clue as to the scale of whatever he's
after,
doesn't it?
> "Which give me a strong bargaining posture, eh? Killgore winked
> conspiratorially at his personal assassin.
Missing end quote
> "Yes, be a dear and bring us an additional incentive bonus, would you?"
> Cross placed a hand to his chin in thought. "There was something else
> I was
> going to mention to you, but I can't seem to remember it."
>
> "There you are, godammit!"
Oh, yes, I rememebr now.
> "Ah, yes, that would be what I forgot," Cross said whimsically.
Like I said.
> Killgore looked over Cross' shoulder and shot a concealed frown at his
> ex-wife as she stormed over to him. "When did she get on board?" he
> whispered low enough so that the woman wouldn't hear.
>
> "A little while ago. I tried talking her out of it, but she was
> insistent...
> insistent to the point that we would have had to shoot her down in
> order to
> keep her off. I was tempted."
>
> Before Killgore could respond, Iria was standing in front of him,
> hands on
> her hips in open anger. "I was looking all over for you. The morons on
> this
> ship don't have a clue on how to give directions."
Or they were being creative.
> "The ship isn't that big," Killgore pointed out. "Anyway, why are you
> here,
> Sunshine?"
>
> She glared at the appellation. "Well, Lance, I heard you were going to
> YSC
> headquarters. I want you to take me along."
>
> Killgore clapped his hands together with enthusiastic glee. "It'll be
> like a
> second honeymoon."
>
> Iria refused to rise to the bait. "I'm dead serious. I just want to
> talk to
> someone in charge and get some answers. That's all."
....riiiiight.
> "Hmm. I remember you regaling me with tales of the last time you went to
> some company's headquarters and demanded answers. I hate to break
this to
> you, but YSC is not some penny-ante operation like Tedan Tippendai. You
> can't just barge in, shoot a handful of guards, and threaten to drop
> the VP
> out a sixty floor window."
>
> "I did drop him out window. I just didn't let him hit the ground," Iria
> corrected.
Now I *gotta* re-watch I:ZTA.
> "The point is, you try to come on with the thug tactics, and you'll
> end up
> dead before you get one floor up. It's the most secure facility they
> have.
> It makes Holcomb look like a mom and pop liquor store when it comes to
> protecting the place."
Sug: mom-and-pop
> "I'll behave," Iria promised.
yaright.
> "No way. I'm in a hurry, so I'm going alone," Killgore said it in a
> manner
> that let her know he regarded the discussion over.
Sug: regarded<>considered
> Much to his surprise, Iria shrugged. "Okay, I'll just have Kei and
> Yuri take
> me there. And since they'll be there, and they are 3WA troubleshooters,
> they'll probably ask more intensive questions than I would. And
intensive<>intrusive
> they'll
> expect answers since they have the authority to do so, and I'm sure
> they'll
> mention how your actions in particular made them suspicious. So which
> do you
> think your employers would prefer; me asking the questions or them?"
Way to get yourself set up for a knife in the back, Iria.
swap ; for :
> "Good point," Killgore admitted grudgingly. "Fine, you can go along if
> you're willing to leave immediately."
>
> "Right now would be fine."
>
> With the matter resolved, Killgore unleashed his most charming smile
> at her.
> "It'll take a couple of hours to get to Danube. Since we don't have
> anything
> to do while we're flying, why don't we entertain ourselves the way we
> used
> to on those long space voyages back when we were married?"
oooooboy.
> Iria casually pulled a knife from her belt and began cleaning her
> nails with
> it.
<snicker>
> "Idle chatter it is." The smile disappeared, but it took much longer
> for the
> knife to do the same. Killgore anticipated a long trip in store for him.
Teehee!
> xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Night had fallen on Myce. The weather was a touch on the sultry side,
but
> the skies were clear and wind non-existent. It was the sort of night
that
> was made for lazing about outdoors while drinking one's favorite
> beverage.
Preferably cold. Although some cultures are sick enough to drink
hot
coffee or tea in weather like that. Barbarians. :D
> But for the young slicer named Mikael, it could have been raining hard
Yay! Mike's back! I had a feeling. Plus, he's too much fun to
leave
in the prop box.
> enough to drown a fish and he wouldn't have noticed. He was busying
> himself
> with completing the final test run on his computers. All the hardware
and
> software passed their final check, and he heaved a sigh of relief.
> While he
> was tense with what about to come, excitement was the emotion that
what WAS about
> ruled his
> heart.
>
> His mother and Kei had given him an interesting challenge. Slicing into
> YSC's system to see if he could dig up any information on Zeiram and
> discover their true goal concerning the monstrosity was something only
> the
> greatest of slicers would even consider attempting. Everyone knew the
> intersystem megacorps had the most difficult systems to crack given the
> security measures placed on their networks. Luckily, the job wasn't
> impossible. Far from it, actually. The system itself was easy to
> connect to.
> Like most corporations its size, YSC had to maintain contact with all
> of its
> vast holdings in one way or another through the vast intersystem
computer
> networks in order to make sure operations were being handled
efficiently.
> That need to survey accurate information readily meant sacrificing the
> security of sealed stand alone systems, thereby making their
Sug: standalone or stand-alone
> information net
> easy to access.
>
> Of course, YSC was painfully aware of this vulnerability, and had
> developed
> security features so complex that while accessing the system was easy,
> penetrating it was nearly impossible. But their system was like any
> complicated structure, and had weak points. Only an expert slicer of
> Mikael's caliber could possibly discern where those weaknesses were
> located
> and enter the soft insides of the system. Though even accomplishing
> that was
> not enough, since there were many other security features inside the
> system
> as well as out. But once inside, Mikael could dig in deep and discover
> their
> secrets, hopefully before he was discovered by the internal security
> programs.
>
> Given the importance of the request from his mother and Kei, Mikael
> invested
> all of his time and energy into accomplishing their goal. That meant
> digging
> up specific information from the underground slicer community and
>others
others' or other
> attempts to break into YSC had netted. Much to Mikael's concern, he
> discovered that a number of slicers, most of them talented (though
not as
> good as him. he told himself), ended up having their brains fried when
.<>,
> they
> were caught inside the system. Technically, no one using intersystem
> networks was supposed to have aggressive attack programs that would
> lobotomize slicers, but they still existed. It was part of the chances
Ah, good old Black ICE. Brings back Shadowrun memories...
sug: chances<>risk
> one
> took when trying to go where they didn't belong, and the element of risk
> tended to excite slicers, who were breaking the rules themselves.
Adrenaline junkies.
> Luckily, Mikael's investigation turned up several potentially good
> possibilities for initial penetration into the system. A slicer by the
> handle of Lemon Drop had discovered a permanent access port into the
> system
> through a backdoor some YSC programmer had made. It wasn't a large
Heh. Some things never change. The biggest whole in any security
setup always has been, and probably always will be, the people who use
it (and/or misuse it, or leave holes open, or their passwords on
Post-Its under their keyboard, or...)
scale
> operation, just some low-level fertilizer business on a world that
was in
> the later stages of colonizing, but if the backdoor was as good as she
> claimed, he had a reliable way in that would save him days of trying
> to find
> one of his own. It had taken a good bit of wheedling, money, and
> sharing of
> very valuable information Mikael had dug up on his own before she gave
> him
> access to the backdoor, since there was a reasonable chance they would
> discover his information raid and it would be permanently sealed if such
> occurred.
>
> With the door opened, Mikael had turned to the hardware matter. He
> brought
> everything he owned into play, anticipating this to be the biggest
> score of
> his life. Most of his money went into hardware, but state of the art was
> necessary for one of his skills, just like his mother never skimped on
> weaponry when it came time to her line of work. He was talented
enough to
> make plenty of money, and had a set up that most slicers would envy.
>
> There were still reservations. When he had originally looked over his
> equipment, Mikael worried that it might not be enough for something this
> big. The only way to increase his own 'firepower' at that point was to
> combine forces with another slicer. Mikael called in a few markers
from a
> local talent named 'Smoothie' (including a promise to hook him up with a
> girl from the 'Touch of Heaven' bordello) before his compatriot agreed
Handy to have a bunch of high-end prostitutes who really like
you...
> Seeing Smoothie in such a state prodded Mikael into action. "Remember,
> you
> promised me you'd clean yourself up before going out with Michelle."
> Getting
> the attractive prostitute to agree to go out with the slicer (without
> being
> paid for it) hadn't been easy. It had taken a lot of cajoling (and an
> agreement for Mikael to go out with her on a real date as well) to
> make her
> acquiesce. And upon seeing a picture of Smoothie, she had forced
> Mikael to
> make the other slicer agree to certain terms.
Can't blame her.
> The rotund man rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll go to that stylist you
> mentioned."
>
> "And you won't pick your nose like you're doing now," Mikael said.
>
> Smoothie's eyes widened and he retracted the digit. "Sorry. Nervous
> habit.
> You really think she'll have sex with me? It's been a long while. Way
too
> long."
....not gonna say it.
> "As long as you make yourself presentable. She has a thing against
> sloppiness. It doesn't matter how handsome you are if you aren't
> tidy." On
> the upside, Michelle was the type that really enjoyed her work, and upon
> getting her to agree to go out on a date with Smoothie, it was assumed
> sex
> was part of the package. As long as his partner could keep his act
> together,
> the slicer would have the fun night he wanted.
It's *so* nice to work with professionals who take pride in
their work.
> There was one last thing to do before allowing his mind to enter the
> system
> and begin its mission to slice away the information he needed. Mikael
> picked
> up an injector filled with a greenish fluid. Pheryl Gel was an invention
> that had been created under questionable circumstances. Despite the
the<>its
> notorious history (supposedly involving nearly five hundred deaths in
its
> experimental stages) the gel worked effectively, enable the user's
enablING
> mind to
> more easily process the huge amounts of information that could be gained
> while hooked up to the cyberealm. It was like an ambrosia to slicers
> everywhere, giving them the ability to improve their abilities by nearly
> three times. Of course, like most things, there was a major drawback.
...by a factor of three.
....as with most things...
> While
> not addictive (most users experienced migraines after the effects wore
> off)
> its increase in mental information capacity meant a decrease in one's
> motor
> systems. It cut down sensitivity to the point of where it felt like
Motor nerves and sensory nerves are two seperate things. Are you
conflating the two, or does the Gel affect both senses *and* motor control?
> the user
> was wearing a thick rubber suit. While hooked up to a computer, one's
> awareness of their body was limited anyway, losing control of one's
...anyway, but losing...
> physical
> form was still an unpleasant feeling. That was one of the reasons Mikael
> used the gel sparingly.
That, and "real slicers don't need no Gel! Except when we do..."
> But it was needed this time. Speed was of the essence, perhaps more than
> even stealth. No matter how quietly he moved through YSC's system,
> eventually he would trip some sort of security system, the law of
> averages
> dictated it, that meant he had to get the information fast and get out
...dictated it. That meant....
> before they nailed him and deep fried his brain.
Breaded deep-fried slicer brains. Go great with tartar sauce and a
mild white wine. Tastes kinda like chicken...
> As the drug made its way through his body, Mikael opened his mind up
> fully
> to his hardware and seized control of it, allowing a portion of his
> consciousness to 'go' elsewhere.
>
> Diving into a computer mentally was an impossible thing to describe. It
> wasn't anything the physical senses could understand because none of
them
> came into play. The human mind was incapable of defining what an
> electronic
> environment was like, at least into words. It was more like a
into<>in
> combination of
> imagination and sensations, which the brain could process at
subconscious
> levels and give to the conscious mind the ability to act and react as it
> meshed itself into flows of data. Only fully electronic entities, like
> Bob,
> could probably function in it and interpret things better. Of course,
the
> price for that was an inability to have physical form in the real world.
Of course, that leads to the question of why Bob isn't a superior
slicer to Mike. After all, dissiz hizzous!
Ahem. I mean, it's literally Bob's home turf.
> Now suitably calm, Mikael allowed his mind to follow the path already
> laid
> out before him. As fast as the information could arrive, Mikael found
> himself at the backdoor Lemon Drop had pointed out to him. There was
only
> one way to see if she was telling the truth, or if he'd be kicked out
> immediately, and that was to access it and let his mind 'wander'
> inside. So
> he did so.
I'd drop the last "so"
> And just like that he was there. It was definitely YSC's system, and
> he was
> inside, their strongest barrier breached without effort. But that was
the
> easy part. Now that he was inside, he would have to track down the
> information he was looking for, and it could be literally be anywhere
Security through obscurity. Gotta love it.
> in the
> thousands of systems that made up YSC's network. Worse, there would be
> plenty of countermeasures along every step of the way. Still, that was
> what
Pattern-recognition watchdogs, sniffing for suspicious behavior.
> slicing was all about. Sifting through systems to dig up information
> before
> you were caught, and YSC represented the largest playground Mikael had
> ever
> had the opportunity to frolic in.
Sug: ...all about: sifting through...caught. And YSC...
> The slicer felt a thrill run down his spine as he used all the
> resources at
> his disposal to search for the information he needed to find.
Sug: ...as he threw all the resources at his disposal into the
search...
> Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> "He has the last component to Argus! You told me he wouldn't get it!"
>
> The woman known only as Springer even to her employer --who happened
sug: Springer,
> to be
> the man who was speaking to her-- turned away from the wall she had been
> staring at and shot him her standard, cold stare. "I told you it was
> wiser
> to destroy the samples and thereby guarantee your brother not getting
sug: ...brother could not get his hands on them.
his
> hands on it. You could have manufactured them later, once your
brother is
> taken care of."
>
> Slapatcha Scorphius, president of Yurenex-Solvar Corporation, shifted
> uncomfortably in his chair. The lavish chambers of his office (which
> was the
> size of a small home) in the large complex that formed the
> headquarters of
> the interstellar company, made him seem small and feel alone, despite
the
> fact he was surrounded by nearly ten thousand people that would obey his
> every wish.
Even if he wants sharks with frickin' LASER BEAMS attached to
their heads?
> "That would have been extremely expensive. The raw
> material for
> the process alone would be astronomical."
Ah, yes, budgets: the *other* arch-nemesis of security.
> "It would be cheaper than what he's going to do to your company once
> he gets
> his hands on a mass driver," Springer said. Still her voice lacked any
> emotion. All she did was state inescapable facts.
"I am Springer of Borg. Emotion is irrelevant. Prepare to have
you
ass laminated."
> Slapatcha pounded his fist on his handmade Shimikas Wood desk. It was
> one of
> only four known to exist, given the rarity of the wood since the
> destruction
> of the tree's planet nearly a thousand years earlier. "You said those
home planet
And... Slapatcha? Slap at'cha? Bitch-slap at'cha?
Sorry. It's just so... easy.
> mercenaries you hired would take care of the matter."
>
> "I said they were the best money could buy," Springer corrected. "I
> did not
> guarantee success. Against an unknown variable like Zeiram, combined
with
> the inside knowledge, genius, and insanity of your brother, there are no
> guarantees. Their combination of skills make them very deadly and
makeS. "combination" is singular.
> almost as
> unpredictable. If they were easy to kill, they'd already be dead."
>
> Slapatcha repeated the fist thumping. "How can he evade us? We have
> resources no one else in the universe has! He should have been
> eliminated an
> hour after we learned he was still alive!"
>
> Springer began pacing. "Your brother had been planing this betrayal for
> years without anyone else's knowledge. He is proactive, while you are
> reactive. He is small, fast, and powerful, if only on a small scale,
> while
> YSC is ultimately large and clumsy. It is an inevitability given your
> tremendous size. Since he worked for you, he knows your weak points,
your
> vulnerabilities, and how to best exploit them. Eventually we will
> catch up
> to him. He cannot avoid us forever. The only question is how much
> damage he
> can inflict in the interim."
Hard to kill a mosquito when all you've got is a shotgun. Of
course,
once you manage to find the bug spray....
> "A damn lot now that he found out about Argus!" Slapatcha ran his
> hands over
> his short, curly hair.
Sug: 'now that he knows about Argus.'
Hmm. I'm offline right now, but IIRC Argus was a mythological
figure
associated with superior sight and/or hearing, sort of like Heimdall.
Seems more like a name for a surveillance system than a weapon. Hmmmmm....
> "Yes, how unfortunate he found the plans on that liner of yours he hit.
> Before he was just a nuisance taking out small operations. Now he's a
> major
> threat."
>
> Slapatcha shoulders slumped in hopelessness. "All he needs is a mass
> driver
> now. They might not be common, but there are still way too many of
> them for
> us to cover all of them in the galaxy. He's won."
What? If he uses it just once, on one planet, he's "won"? Either
Slappy has lost his sense of perspective, or this is some majorly
*weird* wepon he's brewing up. Or Slappy might just be talking about
having YSC's secrecy blown open....
> Springer stopped pacing. "No. On the contrary, given his mental state
and
> pathological hatred of your company, we can be certain that Anton will
> only
> use a mass driver that is owned by YSC."
I wouldn't say *certain,* but it seems in-character. I wouldn't
stake
my life on Anton being unable to choose an alternate if he gets blocked,
though.
> Hope gleamed in Slapatcha eyes. "You're certain?"
>
> "Yes," Spring confirmed.
>
> Slapatcha spoke into a voice unit that sat on the edge of his desk.
> "Give me
> the exact number of mass drivers currently owned by YSC."
"42"
"No, dammit, I mean SHOW them to me. On a MAP!"
> A second later, holographic projectors moved from their concealed
> positions
> around the room and displayed the information in large blue characters
> that
> hung in the air. A voice repeated the information for those not
> interested
> in the effort to read it. "Currently YSC owns four. These are their
> current
> locations." A map of the galaxy hung off to the side, breaking down into
> four separate maps and pinpointing the exact location of each.
>
> Slapatcha considered the matter. "Good, they're all isolated mining
> operations It'll be a logistics nightmare, but I'm convinced we can
Missing period. "...operations. It'll..."
>get
> major firepower around all of them. He'll probably go for the closest,
> since
> he'll be in a hurry, so we'll prioritize reinforcing that one,
> followed by
> the rest in order."
>
> Springer observed the display, then held up a warning finger.
> "Something is
> not right. Have the computer list all the mass drivers that have ever
> been
> built by YSC."
>
> The request made Slapatcha stare at her curiously. "I don't think we
> actually make them. We just commission their construction through
someone
> else. The market isn't that large for them." He requested the
> information,
> and the computer returned his predicted results.
>
> Springer continued staring at the projection. "List all the mass
> drivers YSC
> has ever owned."
>
> The company's president did so. Three of them were listed as having
> broken
> down and scrapped, another had been destroyed in a mining accident,
and been scrapped. Or: ...having been decommissioned and
scrapped...
and
> there was one other.
>
> Springer nodded at the last one. "That's it. That's the one he'll go
> after.
> The one you donated to this planet's government. There's no way he'll
> pass
> up the opportunity to use the mass driver poised above your very own
> head to
> destroy you. It would be ironic justice in his eyes."
It *does* seem in-character.
> For a moment, Slapatcha said nothing. Then a soft chuckle escaped his
> lips.
> The chuckle became a chortle. Eventually it devolved into full blown
> laughter. Springer remained where she was, waiting patiently until the
> laughter died down.
>
> Through his giggles, the president of YSC finally got out. "We can
> only pray
> he does. That mass driver is on one of the military's orbital platforms.
> It's designed to repel a planetary invasion. It has enough firepower
> to blow
> a half dozen battleships apart and still have guns to spare. Even if he
> could get past the exterior defenses, there are three hundred men on
> board.
> Not the rank and file security people or bumbling mercenaries you've
been
> hiring, but highly trained military personnel. They'll tear him to
> pieces in
> minutes. And, since Danube's government needs us to keep their world
from
> becoming the backwater flyspeck it was before we came here, we can
> warn them
> about what to expect in Zeiram. They'll keep their mouths shut, since
> what's
> bad for us is fatal for them. If Anton is stupid enough to come here,
> it'll
> all be over for him, not us."
He should just save himself time and trouble and blow the
station up
now. Or at least put a self-destruct in the power core, or something.
> "I hope you're right." While Springer's voice carried no emotion, the
> doubt
> in the statement was obvious.
>
> Slapatcha amusement died. "I'm not so convinced he'll strike here.
Slapatcha's
> He's not
> suicidal. I'll alert the military's overlord that Zeiram will be
> arriving,
> but then I'm going ahead and moving our own forces into position to
> prevent
> him from grabbing one of the other mass drivers."
>
> That met with a nod from Springer, who placed a hand to her chin.
> "Killgore
> will be arriving soon. I'll reroute him to the orbital platform."
>
> Slapatcha shook his head sadly. "What do you think he can do that all of
> those military personnel can't?"
>
> "Think on his own," Springer said flatly.
>
> Before Slapatcha could respond to that, a beeping emanated from a
> communicator, similar to Iria's, that was attached to Springer's
> wrist. She
> brought it up to her face and said, "Report."
>
> "We have a trace on someone that sliced into the system. This guy's a
> real
> talent. Backtracking shows he slipped right in and plowed through
> everything
> we had. We were actually lucky that we spotted him when we did, he's
that
> good. He got in deep. Real deep. He looked into a lot of places he
> shouldn't
> have, so we're going to have to take measures immediately. I just
need to
> know if you want to recruit or neutralize. I recommend recruitment. It
> would
> behoove us to make his talents our own."
>
> "Download the info to me." A smaller holographic projector sprang to
life
> from the wrist unit. Springer pored over the data as it was sent to
her,
> processing it at what should have been inhuman speeds. Suddenly, she
> snapped, "Wait! Go back fifty lines." She reread the information, then
> turned away. She spoke mostly to herself as she said, "Myce? That was
> where
> Zeiram hit during his previous incursion. Tedan Tippendai was
> headquartered
> there, and... and that damned 3WA agent was just there!"
>
> The curse caught Slapatcha attention. Springer was showing emotion. She
> never showed emotion. And it seemed to have centered on Myce. No, it
Yeah, she does seem to have a mad on against the Pair. And she
certainly seems like an android, or some kind of augmented human. Hm...
Shasti?
was
> when she recalled the 3WA agent's presence there. That was what had
> triggered the outburst. How very... interesting. Springer was one of
> the few
> things in Scorphius' life that was an enigma. Despite all the power at
> his
> command, he knew nothing about her, other than she was the absolute
other than that she
> best at
> her job and always accomplished his goals. This Zeiram matter was the
one
> time she had, if not failed, at least been delayed in resolving
> things. And
> in her defense, it was Anton who she was dealing with. Insane or not,
> he was
> a Scorphius, and they were a breed apart. And then there was Zeiram,
> which
> was nearly an irresistible force. She could be afforded some slack in
> this
> matter. At least for now.
"The terminations will continue until performance improves."
> While Slapatcha considered things, Springer continued giving orders.
> "Listen
> to me. Don't brainfry him. Let him keep roaming around. I want him
> stationary. I need confirmation on his death. Bring in every agent we
> have
> on Myce. Send them all the intel and give the codephrase, 'It's time
Unfortunately, all her agents on Myce had been part of "Balless"
Kincaid's gang, and were now either dead or running from the local mob.
> for the
> chimney sweep to dust.'."
extra period
> "Understood." The communicator went silent.
>
> Slapatcha looked at her curiously. "Chimney Sweep?"
>
> Springer turned to him. "It means the agents are to eliminate the target
> with extreme prejudice and at any cost. They can sacrifice their cover
> and
> any amount of collateral damage is acceptable."
She's moving from a deniability stance to a kill-all-witnesses
stance.
That doesn't bode well.
> "I see." That was fine with Slapatcha. Myce had been unimportant since
> the
> fall of Tedan Tippendai. They could afford to sacrifice whatever
> positions
> their people had attained there. It would be no great loss, and they
> could
> be relocated at minimal cost.
>
> Satisfied things were well in hand for the first time in months,
> Slapatcha
> Scorphius leaned back in his chair and relaxed.
>
> Xxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> It was deep in the heart of night, closer to an approaching dawn than
> anything else, in a run down section of the capital city of Myce that
Comma aftr Myce
> two
> people met for the first time in their lives. One was a woman,
> ordinary in
> appearance in every way. The other was a man, slightly older, with a
> touch
> of gray at his temples. Aside from that he appeared every bit as
> commonplace
> as the woman. They met in front of an apartment building, identical in
> shape
> and form to the others on either side of it, save for the touches of
> graffiti decorating its edifice. The collage of artwork from the many
> artists that regarded the buildings as their personal canvases gave
> personality to the soulless, pragmatic design the buildings had been
> based
> on.
>
> The woman spoke first. "Chimney Sweep?"
>
> The man nodded. "Call me Ishmael."
And you said you didn't catch the reference in my C&C for last
chapter.
> "That's clich�."
>
> "I figured it best we don't know each other's everyday names. Culpable
> deniability is always a necessity in our line of work."
ITYM *Plausible* deniability
> The woman shot him a tired look. "Fine. It's Bianca, then. Seniority
> designates you quarterback. Where are the others?"
>
> "There are only two that are stationed around this section of the
planet.
> Luckily Perez, whose normal base of operations is in Luchon, happened to
> have been sent to Myce on company business and is on his way via car.
> Unfortunately Vyory, who's normally stationed here, was out on some
> kind of
> isolated community thing his corporation saw fit to send its employees
> to.
> Supposedly the isolation is to promote teamwork."
>
> Bianca's lip curled. "I had to go on one of those once. Being forced
into
> the middle of nowhere surrounded by annoying coworkers promoted my
> desire to
> kill them all."
Too bad nobody ever set up a corporate team-building exercise at
that
summer camp Jason Voorhees likes to hang out at.
> Ishmael nodded in sympathy. "In any case, it'll take him a while to find
> transportation out here, so he cannot be relied upon. Perez is coming,
> but
> we're in a hurry."
>
> "This is the target's building?"
>
> Ishmael nodded. "Upon arriving, I scouted out the location. I tapped
into
> the power feed and followed the flows. There's only one apartment that's
> drawing enough juice to be operating a computer system capable of
> penetrating our employers defenses. It's located on this side, third
employer's
> floor,
> two windows from the left."
>
> Bianca looked up and mentally marked the dull orange glow that peeked
> through the room's single window. "Escape routes?"
Dumb. Looking at the target gives away your interest. People,
please,
*try* for some subtlety!
> "Door on the front, one on the East side of the building, and a rear
> exit.
> However, from his door there's only one way of going down, and we'll be
> going up those stairs. He'll be trapped with no means of escape."
That doesn't sound like Mike. Wouldn't Iria have vetted his
place for
escape routes (being just a *bit* obsessive)? Or maybe he's got a
concealed BatPole...
> "I'm not wild about hitting him with only the two of us." Bianca's
> admitted.
drop the 's from Bianca
> Ishmael appeared unconcerned. "I looked around the interior. Even if
> he was
> a front man for someone, they don't have any resources here. We'll
hit it
> together, though it shouldn't matter one way or another. It's probably
> just
> some small time slicer that sneaked into the wrong place at the wrong
> time.
> I doubt there'll be much in the-"
>
> It was at that moment a quintet of young toughs came from further up the
> street and approached the couple. The group had the same predatory smell
> that all such people, who wandered about in packs in similar lower class
> areas on every planet in the galaxy, emanated.
>
> One of them, the leader of the pack, acted as spokesman and moved
> forward.
> The other members of the group responded by encircling the pair,
> cutting off
> any avenues of escape. "Well, well, well. It looks like you aren't from
> around here. Did you get los-"
>
> The rest of the question went unasked as the man and woman drew energy
> pistols from their jacket pockets and without hesitation, fired upon the
> gang. The spokesman was hit first, a hole left in his chest right
> where his
> heart was. More flashes filled the air with quick, deadly precision.
Only
> one of the men had time to realize what was happening and draw back
> before
> he died with the rest of his comrades.
Opsec: blown. Time to move fast.
> Ishmael kept his gun in hand, though placed it behind his body so it
> wasn't
> displayed so openly. "As I was saying, I doubt there'll be much in the
> way
> of problems. I think command just wants to make sure the information
> wasn't
> forwarded to someone else. I'm a fair slicer myself, so I should be
> able to
> determine if it was leaked, and if so, backtrack it to the source and
> eliminate that as well."
<boggle> You just had a minor firefight right under the target's
window, there's no reason to think he *didn't* hear you, and you're
standing around *talking*? Geez, these guys are really second-string,
aren't they?
> The woman nodded. "Good. Let's get going."
>
> The pair stepped over the spokesman's body as casually as if it was a
> large
> crack in the sidewalk and entered the apartment building, heading
> straight
> for their destination.
I *think* that the proper use in context is "as if it were," but
I'm
not positive.
> Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Mikael could scarcely accept what his senses were telling him as he
> continued to sift through the information, recording everything he was
> coming across. It was impossible, yet according to YSC's network, it was
> real. Of course, it was all just computer information, and could be
> falsified, but he knew it wasn't. YSC would never create such a
> widespread
> fabrication in their own system. Not when it was verified from so many
> different sources. If it was some sort of high level scam, perhaps,
> but it
> had taken all of his abilities to get in this far. No, Mikael had
> stumbled
> on what might be one of the best kept secrets of the century.
>
> While his mother and Kei had asked him to retrieve information on Zeiram
> from YSC's database, there was no way they could have guessed his path
> would
> lead him to this. Worse, they couldn't possibly know what they had
gotten
> into. They would have warned him, or more likely, gone for help from
just
> about anyone, if they had learned the truth.
Okay, that's... ominous.
Suddenly, I'm remembering 3WA HQ's lack of response to Yuri's
communique. Related? And *Argus*....
Just how secure *is* the 3WA Central Computer?
> What was almost as amazing as the actual information was that he had
> never
> heard the vaguest hint of it anywhere, and this was the sort of thing
> that
> if anyone knew about it, rumors would have spread everywhere. YSC must
> have
> gone to unbelievable lengths to keep it quiet, though the secret itself
> would have helped in tracking down those that had knowledge of it.
Okay, that bad feeling is getting stronger. That last line has
some
nasty implications. Something in the galactic computer networks?
Something very pervasive...
> And now Mikael, knew.
Move or remove the comma.
> He had leave the system and warn his mother and Kei. Due to the
nature of
> the problem, sending them the information directly to them was
extra "them"
> impossible.
> They would never receive it, and it could be used to track Mikael's
> location. He would have to deliver it to them personally. It was the
Yep. Definitely something rotten in the networks. Which makes me
wonder what Anton was stealing -- it seemed like Zeiram was picking up
drums of *chemicals.* I get the feeling whatever's going down at YSC
has both cyberspace and realspace aspects...
> only
> way to make them understand what they had really gotten themselves into.
>
> Then an idea occurred to him. While Mikael knew he needed to get out
> of the
> system before his presence was discovered, before it was too late, he
> decided to use YSC against itself by tapping into their information
> network
> and see if he could find anything recent on his mother and Kei.
tapping and seeING, or tapping TO see
> He tapped into the communications logs and hacked into their own search
> programs to find any relevant information. Nothing came up that he
didn't
> already know. Then he widened the search, in case they were using
> codenames
> instead of the actual names. He began searching for information in the
> regions of space they had been. YSC wouldn't codename those. At least
> Mikael
> didn't think so.
>
> His fears were groundless as this time the search worked. He began
> looking
> over the list of hits, his eyes settling on one in particular
> pertaining to
> Myce. It had been prioritized and sent out...
>
> ....Since he had hacked into the system.
Okay, this is a good time to RUN LIKE HELL!
> They were on to him. Mikael was sure of it, and they had contacted
> people on
> Myce to eliminate him. He didn't know why they hadn't fried his head
> instead, but he did not want to give them the opportunity to change
their
> minds. He forcefully extracted his consciousness from the system
> before they
> realized he knew they had spotted him. It was painful to instantly cut
> himself off the massive amount of information pouring into his expanded
> awareness. Actually, it was the moral equivalent of grabbing an
moral? ITYM "mental"
> eyeball and
> yanking it out of its socket, but the pain was transitory since it was
> virtual, and infinitely better than having one's brain lobotomized.
I dunno, most big rock stars seem to *enjoy* keeping their
brains in a
permanently semi-lobotomized state...
> Mikael spared the idea no more thought. He hit the emergency
> extraction and
> screamed in pain at the violent shutdown of his awareness. Apparently
> Pheryl
> didn't do anything for forms of mental trauma. He simply lay back in his
> seat, counting the seconds and waiting for the pain to diminish so he
> could
> think clearly once again.
>
> Smoothie's face appeared in the monitor. "Heyyo, what happened? If they
> lobotomized you, I'm grabbing all of your stuff."
....it's good to have friends.
> Mikael's voice was surprisingly hoarse. 1"I'm not lobotomized. I did an
> emergency extract."
extraneous '1' digit
> Smoothie winced. "I had to do that once. I'd rather pull out a tooth."
>
> "It's starting to fade." Just a little, but it was starting to. Mikael
> kept
> telling himself it was all in his head. Of course that was where the
> brain
> was located, and it was what interpreted information. If it thought
there
> was pain, then you felt the pain, whether it physically existed or not.
Yeah. Sucks.
> It appeared Smoothie was about to say something else when he turned, as
> though something in the room had caught his attention. "Hold on."
>
> "I'm not going anywhere." Mikael thought the pain was going away. It was
> hard to tell when there was so much of it. He tried concentrating,
> hoping to
> cut through the haze. There was a measure of success as the slicer
> remembered exactly why he had pulled out so quickly. "Smoothie, wait.
> There's something I need to tell you."
>
> Then he heard it. Growing up with a bounty hunter as one's mother meant
> becoming familiar with all sorts of firearms and weaponry, including the
> telltale signature of an energy pistol being fired at close range.
>
> "Shit!" Mikael cut the connections to Smoothie's equipment. He swore
> again.
> He should have fried Smoothie's system before cutting the link. If the
> person on the other side was the least bit computer literate, they could
> read Smoothie's logs and track Mikael down.
Oh. At first, I thought he was hearing the firefight outside his
window. But he was hearing it from Smoothie's place, over the phone.
Okay, so Mike *didn't* choose a terminally stupid place to live, with no
extra escape routes.
> His situation was compromised. Sparing a thought for poor Smoothie and
> the
> date he was never going to have, Mikael tried getting up, and nearly
> fell to
> the floor. He began using every curse his mother had ever uttered. He
had
> forgotten the effects the Pheryl had on his body. He forced himself to
> rise
> to his feet, feeling like the air was as thick as molasses.
>
> At least his mind wasn't similarly impeded. There wasn't time to fool
> around. Mikael pulled the disks containing all the information he had
> copied
> from YSC and went to his emergency cache. It was a trick his mother had
> hammered into him that had become a habit by now. It was hidden
inside an
> oversized surge protector that, if one looked closely they would
realize,
move comma to after "closely"
> was totally redundant with what was already hooked up to the system. Of
> course, no one would look at it closely, which was why Mikael had chosen
> that to hide it in. He pulled out his emergency account card, a second
> one
> with a false name, several fake travel ID's, and a reclamation ticket
> to a
> small storage unit he had outside of town. It was unlikely he would
> need the
> last since his plan was to get off planet as soon as possible, but it
was
> better to have it and not use it than to need it and not have it.
>
> That was all he was taking him. There was only one more thing to do.
> Mikael
> looked sadly at his computer equipment. He had planned for this
> possibility
> as well. It had taken him the better part of two years and a ton of
> money to
> set it up to his liking, but his base of operations had been
compromised,
> and he wasn't taking any chances on the people that were after him
> getting
> their hands on possibly sensitive material. Most of his important
> programs
> were backed up elsewhere, but saying goodbye to the actual hardware was
> outright painful.
>
> He thought of the women that needed this information. That was what was
> important. His mother had always said, "Items you value more than your
> life
> are traps," and while he liked his system, he could part with it a lot
> more
> easily than the people he cared about.
Smart boy. Takes after his mother.
> Course decided, he flipped open a panel on the side, hit a six digit
> code,
> pausing two seconds, then hit two last numbers. He then flipped the
panel
> back down and headed out the door. He didn't want to be present as his
> system wiped out its memory. To be sure no information could be
salvaged,
> the instant the program was finished, a magnetic charge set up next to
> the
> memory unit would go off, ensuring what was gone remained beyond any
> chance
> of being brought back from the dead.
And then the thermite grenades would reduce the whole stack to
liquid
metal and carbonized silicon (taking the building with it, but oh well),
so those CSI geeks couldn't wave their magic wands and recover the
unrecovereale.
> Clumsily, Mikael began walking down the stairs as fast as he could,
while
> trying to keep from slipping and breaking his legs before his flight had
> begun.
>
> Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Ishmael went over to the still active computer system as Bianca
confirmed
> the kill. Not that he thought the overweight man was still alive. Energy
> blasts to his stomach and head had left holes in him that nothing human
> could survive, but every 'T' had to be crossed, and no one would accuse
> either of them of slacking off.
>
> He sat down, and was delighted to see the system was active for use. He
> wouldn't even have to bother slicing in to find passwords.
>
> Bianca walked over. "What do you have?"
>
> Ishmael held up a warning finger. "Patience." He hooked his cyberjack
> from
> his neck and into the system and began to sift through the information.
> "Damn!"
>
> "What?"
>
> "This was only a relay point. Someone else was the actual slicer."
>
> Bianca paled. "What do we do?"
>
> "I have his real location. And his face." Ishmael pulled out his
> communication's pad and hit a button. His call was answered immediately.
> "Perez. What's your current location?"
>
> "Grid Five, Section Nine, Road S. Seven. I'll be there in less than five
> minutes."
"Road S. Seven"?
> "Negative. New locale and target." He transmitted the address and
> Mikael's
> picture.
>
> "Received and understood. Will commence dusting upon confirmation of the
> target. Out."
>
> The communicator went dead. Ishmael left it upon on the desk where it
> would
> be easily accessible. Then he looked to Bianca. "Don't waste time
> here. Back
> up Perez. I'll quarterback from here and see if there's anything
useful I
> can dig up. I'll forward anything I find to you."
Sug: "whatever I find"
> Bianca nodded in agreement and headed out as fast as she could,
> leaving the
> door open as she raced away.
>
> xxxxxxxxxxx
>
> The minutes it took Mikael to leave his building and walk to his
> hovercycle
> had been the longest in his life. It took ten times as long as it should
> have, though he was pleased to note that the more he walked, the
> easier he
> seemed to move. Toward the final steps he thought he was almost up to
> normal.
Sug: By the time he reached the bike, he began to think...
> The cycle was his second favorite, his first having been blown apart
be a
> rocket courtesy of 'Castrated' Kincaid', though the bitterness of
<snerk> I still find it hard to believe that Kincaid could hold on to
the loyalty of his gang after that got out. They must *really* be the
dregs of the gang underworld.
> losing his
> favorite had been blunted by the enjoyable time spent with Kei. A grin
> spread across his features as he remembered their bedroom antics. In
> fact,
> she was lingering in his mind a great deal more than any normal weekend
> stand should have. While she might not have been a professional, like
> many
> of the girls he had grown used to, she was unquestionably talented.
....not gonna say it.
Although, Iria should be happy.
Yuri: "Wow, incest really *is* best."
> And
> talking with her had been nice as well. He found himself wanting a
> chance to
> get to know her more, even if his mother had pretty much raised her
> like she
> had Mikael. It wasn't as though that meant anything to him. Kei had
> left his
> mother's guardianship before he was born. It wasn't like they were
> related,
> except maybe in his mother's mind. He hoped Kei didn't feel the way his
> mother did, though. That would make things awkward. Mikael wasn't
> anybody's
> little brother, and had no intention of becoming such, especially not
> to a
> hot number like Kei. She might have been older, but that just meant
> she had
> been around long enough to know what she wanted. He found it appealing,
> actually. There were a lot of things found appealing about her.
Good grief, might Iria's matchmaking actually *work*? Might Kei
actually settle down? A teeny bit?
> He would be meeting her again soon enough. Mikael figured it would
> take him
> a half hour to get to the spaceport, buy a ticket, and take off. He'd
> settle
> for the nearest destination, then hop on a different ship, losing any
> pursuers. He might change a third time, just to be safe. Before too
> long he
> would rendezvous with the women, then they could decide their next
> course of
> action.
Mmmm... he's got alternate ID, but he hasn't done anything to change
his appearance. That makes him traceable. Of course, Mike's used to
dealing with computerized data -- this kind of thing is outside his
expertise.
> Mikael started the hovercycle. It didn't explode, which was a good
> sign. He
> really should have thought to check beforehand in case they had already
> located him and wanted his death to look like an accident. But they
Yep. His inexperience is showing. Which is kind of nice, actually --
he's great at what he does, but this isn't it.
> hadn't,
> and now he was leaving town before YSC's goons caught up.
>
> Mikael started down the streets, taking the quickest way to the
Sug: quicket<>shortest. Since he's driving slowly...
> spaceport he
> could think of. He decided to travel slowly, not wanting to draw
> attention
> to himself. Even at this time of night, people traveled the streets of
> Myce,
> especially in the area of town he lived in. There was a great deal of
Sug: area<>part
> nocturnal traffic, many of the denizens preferring to conduct their
> business
> when there were fewer people around. He wouldn't stand out in that
> respect.
> As far as anyone that saw him knew, he was a simply traveling
SP: travelling. Maybe "passing"
> through,
> like
> so many others.
>
> The journey strained Mikael's senses as paranoia gripped him. Every
> shadow
> contained a menace and every movement that caught his eye held death.
His
> eyes were riveted to every person that he came across, no matter how
> inconspicuous they might appear. Twice he passed by other hovercyclists,
> giving them a wary eye, and they doing the same in return to his
> attention.
Yep. Amateur.
> It was that tension that saved his life. A car turned a corner from
ahead
> and on to his street. It was traveling fast, not that uncommon a sight.
> Despite that, Mikael was watching it intently when the vehicle
> suddenly sped
> up and shifted slightly, bearing right toward him.
Sug: sped up<>accellerated
> Mikael barely had time to react. He hit the drive selector, pushing the
> bottom thrusters to their maximum, and kicking the cycle up in the >
Sug: bottom<>ventral. But then, I'm just a sucker for fancy words. (:)
> air.
> Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to clear the height of the
Sug: height<>roof
>car,
> though as he went past it did have the effect of blowing out the car's
> side
> window, sending sharp slivers of glass toward the driver.
Sug: ...car. The collision caved in part of the roof and shattered
the driver's window, showering him with broken glass.
They still use glass? Not safety glass, or Lexan, or something? Just
wondering....
> The top of the car caught the edge of the cycle, forcing it downward
> so it
> absorbed the full impact of the collision. The force smashed in the
front
> portion of the cycle and severed most of its power couplings,
> transforming
> it into a thousand pounds of dead weight. The vehicle was sent
> rotating top
> over bottom. Mikael released his hold on the cycle and kicked off
Sug: the edge of the car's roof caught the back end of the cycle,
flipping it forward and driving the front end into the trunk lid. The
impact smashed in the prow, severing power couplings and transforming
the cycle into a thousand pounds of dead weight, flipping end for end in
a lazy forward somersault. Mikael kicked off, trying to get clear
before it smashed him into the pavement....
from
> it to
> keep it from landing on him. Despite his actions, the rear end of the
> spinning cycle nearly clipped him in the head before he sailed clear. It
> landed hard on its side, bits and pieces of the chassis buckling under
> the
> impact.
>
> The cycle wasn't the only thing to hit the ground hard. Mikael, not
being
> very athletic, landed poorly and one of his legs twisting back
ITYM "twistED"
> underneath
> him. A cry of pain slipped out, the agony driving away the last
> vestiges of
> the Pheryl.
Well, that's a silver lining.
> The car suffered a similar, if less dramatic, fate. The impact, combined
> with the driver trying to shield his face from flying bits of jagged
> glass,
> sent the vehicle out of control. Its tires spun noisily as it screeched
> across the pavement, over the sidewalk, and rammed front first into a
Sug: rammed head-on
> wall,
> crumpling the vehicle. The impact jerked the driver forward, his head
> ramming into the steering wheel and nearly knocking him unconscious.
Lousy airbags they have in this century. And no seatbelt?
> Slowly Mikael stood up, wincing as agony shot up through his knee. His
> threshold of pain had never been especially high, and with the Pheryl
Sug: pain threshold
> purged
> from his system, he felt the entirety of the agony in all of its
> wondrous
> glory.
Ooooh, yeah. Glory. Ow...
>It was a sprain, which was better than a break, though not by
> much. A
> glance at the remains of his cycle showed yet another one of his >
>favored
> toys would have to be put to rest as well. And that it wouldn't be
> providing
> him a means of escape.
>
> The slicer turned to the wreckage of the car, hoping the driver had
> ended up
> as broken as the cycle. Again Mikael noted his luck was proving
> exceptionally bad tonight as he watched the driver starting to climb
> out of
> the shattered remnants of the window on his side. As his assailant
pulled
> himself from the wreckage, Mikael noted that once the assassin was
> halfway
> out of the vehicle, exposed and physically unable to defend himself, it
> would have been an ideal time to shoot him. At least for someone with
> a gun
> that could aim straight. Since Mikael was neither of those things, it
Sug: ...someone who actually *had* a gun, and could *use* it.
Hmmm... haven't they ever heard of shotguns? I'm sure Iria could find
something compact with lots of sread and knockdown power. Just watch
out for those bystanders...
was
> time to flee and hope the driver's legs were in as bad a shape as his
> own.
>
> xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Perez saw the young man limp out of sight down an alleyway sandwiched
> between two buildings. He went for his pistol, only to discover it had
> fallen out of his shoulder holster in the crash. He pulled out his
> communicator, the motion causing a fire to ignite in his chest and
Sug: igniting a fire
making
> him pause for a moment. Each breath felt like someone was sticking a
> knife
> into his lungs, but he ignored the pain as best as he could and stuck
his
> head back in the car, trying to locate the firearm. For just a moment,
> his
> vision swam and he could barely remain upright. He knew he shouldn't
have
> skimped on his car's safety features, but given his line of work, a
Ahhhh.
> car
> crash was the last way he thought he would die.
>
> "Yes?" Ishmael's voice cut through the haze, rousing Perez from his
> grogginess.
"Have you seen the whit wh-- er, that stupid kid?"
Gee, the "Moby Dick" jokes just keep popping up in this fic.
> Shaking his head clear, Perez said, "He's here on," he looked around
> until
> he spotted the nearest street marker. "Exetor between Fourth and
> Fifth. I am
> in pursuit, but am having problems." That was something of an
> understatement
> as his vision swam in and out again.
>
> "What sort of problems?"
>
> "I was in pursuit and collided with his cycle. I think I have a
> concussion,
> and my chest feels like an ape has been jumping up an down on it. And
> I lost
> my..." he trailed off as he spotted the sidearm lying on the bottom
Sug: beneath the brake pedal/accellerator.
of
> pedals. "Nevermind. I have relocated my primary weapon. He's injured
too.
> Limping badly, so he can't get far fast."
>
> "Activate your field transmitter so Bianca can locate you."
"Sol Bianca?"
"Wrong series. And we don't have the budget for a ship like that,
anyways."
> Reluctantly, Perez did so. He didn't like giving off a signal that
anyone
> with a tracker, adjusted to right frequency, could pinpoint his
could use to pinpoint
> location. It
> was a touch irrational, since no one around there knew who he was or
> wanted
> him dead, but the need to maintain a low profile was deeply ingrained
> into
> his character thanks to his training.
>
> For a moment, everything cleared, and he raced down the alleyway to
> catch up
> to the target. With any luck, he could waste the slicer and receive
> medical
> attention in the next hour.
>
> Perez stopped in front of the alleyway and was surprised to spot his
> target
> near the end. The alley wasn't that long. The slicer's injury must
Sug: at the far end.
> have been
> bad for him not to have already left the alley. Slowly he raised his
> arm up
> and drew a bead on the youth. Mikael had been looking over his shoulder
> though, and seeing the gun leveled at him, ducked behind a dumpster
> just as
> a shot went sailing past where he had been a moment ago.
>
> Perez scowled. The dumpster was one of the heavy duty kind, built to
have
> the trash superheated into ashes when the garbage people came up. It
Sug: built to incinerate its contents to ash before the garbage pickup.
> could
> withstand anything short of an explosive. That meant he'd have to
> close with
> the target, and that meant traveling up the length of the alleyway
> with no
> form of cover between him and the target. Of course, if the slicer was
> armed, he should have been returning fire by now.
>
> The chance had to be taken. Risks were an integral part to Perez's
> line of
> work. He began walking down the alleyway, keeping the dumpster in his
> line
> of sight and his gun aimed at it as he offered to the slicer, "If you
> come
> out, I won't shoot you. You have information we need." A lie of
> course. They
lie, of
> wanted the information to die with him. Ishmael could discover if any
had
> been leaked out, and they'd clean up any other messes this sliver
> might have
> left.
sliver? ITYM slicer
> Perez's vision swam again. He staggered against the alley wall,
> muttering a
> curse under his breath.
>
> It was at that moment Mikael chanced to poke his head around the
> corner and
> saw the man slumped against the wall, in obvious bad shape. For a
> moment, he
> considered charging the injured assassin, but then thought better of it.
> Distance, not confrontation, was what he wanted at this point. Pinned
> down
> and having no other choice, Mikael ran for it.
Sug: no better option
> Perez saw the fleeing youth through the world that danced around him.
> He was
> able to orient himself enough to bring the gun up and snap off several
> shots, but none came close to hitting him. Staggering like a drunkard,
> Perez, made his way to the end of the alley, hoping the youth hadn't
> ducked
> out of sight. If he had, the odds of finding him again were slim.
>
> As the assassin staggered to the end of the alley, he spotted Mikael
> heading
> toward a large public building standing a bit away from the others
around
> it. A train station! That was bad. If he got on one of those, he
could be
> anywhere in the city, or if he took a direct express to another city
> go to
> ground. It could take years to dig him up, and Perez's employers were
not
> the patient sort.
>
> A car pulled up next to him. Behind the wheel, he saw a woman he didn't
> recognize. Even with his head swimming, she was close enough to shoot,
> so he
> raised his gun, the stopped abruptly as she said, "It looks like it
> was hard
> to dust your chimney."
>
> Perez holstered the gun. Then on a whim he activated his tracker and
> saw it
> beep in the direction of the woman. Confirming her identity, he informed
> her. "The target ran into the train station. We have to get him fast.
I'm
> pretty beat, so it's probably going to be on your shoulders."
>
> The woman cursed and activated her own communicator and informed
> Ishamael of
> the situation.
>
> Ishmael said, "Wait a minute. I think I found something of interest
> here."
> There was a pause. "Yes, this guy hacked into most of the public service
> systems, including trains at that station. I don't have visuals, but I
> can
> track any purchases the target makes and where his destination will be."
Oboy. Smoothie's big asset suddenly turns around and bites Mike on the
ass. His luck really *is* abysmal today, isn't it?
> "That'll have to do." She parked the car where it was and exited the
> vehicle. She indicated Perez should follow as best as he could, and
> the pair
> headed for the train terminal.
>
> Xxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Mikael's head was a blur as he tried thinking his way out of his
> predicament. The train terminal was crowded, as he thought it would
> be. In
> this area of town, many of the destitute and homeless tended to hang
> out in
> the environmentally controlled public place. Supposedly it was illegal
> and
> the authorities were supposed to chase away any loiterers, but the
actual
> enforcement of the law was in the more upscale places in the city. As
> long
> as they didn't cause problems or mess the place up too badly, they were
> unofficially allowed to stay.
>
> They weren't the only ones present. The terminal was near a number of
> bars,
> and some patrons chose to sleep off the effects of their drink before
Huh. Good way to get mugged. Or wake up dead.
> heading home. Others really were travelers, taking the cheaper late
> trains,
> while others still were arriving in the city for the same reasons.
>
> Mikael considered the situation. He could contact the management
> personnel
> and inform them that a killer was on his way. They would contact the
> authorities and hopefully they would arrive in time. Doing that meant
> Mikael
> would have to explain everything, and the law didn't respond well to
> self-admitted slicers. Worse, since Smoothie's death was involved, it
> would
> keep Mikael under police supervision for weeks, and he needed to get his
> information to his mother and Kei immediately.
>
> Mikael considered simply taking an express and getting the hell out of
> town,
> but he had problems with that. They had found him in the first place
> through
> Smoothie's computer, and Mikael knew he had sliced his way into the
train
> system. Smoothie had once bragged that on a whim, he had randomized the
> ticket purchases of all the commuters so that they would get on the
wrong
> train and end up anywhere but their destination. He had caused such
> chaos it
> had even made the evening news. Mikael could probably buy a ticket
> using one
> of his fake identities, but if they figured out where he was going
anyway
> and got on the same train he did, he'd be cornered with no hope of
> escape.
>
> He was still trying to decide the best course of action when a tall,
> somewhat unattractive woman in a sedate, yet tasteful dress, walked
up to
> him. "Mikael, what a surprise to see you down here!"
>
> The slicer recognized her immediately. Yoshiko Kumagara worked for
Madame
> Fortuna as a 'talent scout', meaning she spent time hanging around bus
> and
> train terminals, keeping an eye open for young, attractive girls
arriving
> from the more rural regions of Myce that were looking to move into the
> big
> city. Primarily she looked for runaways who had no idea of what they
were
> doing and only arrived with the clothes on their backs. When Yoshiko
> spotted
> one, she would offer to help them before other less savory types got
> their
> hooks into them.
Ahhh, so. She's a anti-chickenhawk, so to speak. I was getting a bit
worried, there.
> If they accepted, she would help them get a temporary roof over their
> head
> and access to basic necessities-- all the while covertly evaluating
> them. If
> they met the Madame's criteria, she would offer them a potential job
> working
> for her. Even if they turned her down or didn't work out, she still
> saw to
> it they had a chance to get on their feet with a basic job and somewhere
> they could afford to stay. She was connected enough to secure them such
> things, and the girls that ended up settling in the city almost always
> felt
> indebted to her for helping them in their time of need, and they
would go
> out of their way to help her if they could. It made her one of the most
> connected people in the city.
Handy.
> Mikael also didn't want to get her involved. Yoshiko might have been
> able to
> fend off small fry that hung out in this section of town, but she
> wasn't up
> to dealing with a professional killer, injured or not.
>
> "You'd better leave me be," he warned.
>
> Yoshiko examined him with a critical eye. "You're in trouble. I'd better
> contact the Madame. She'd have my tits if anything happened to you."
...okay, I had to stop and re-read that line. It makes perfect sense,
but it just sounds... Anyway. Sharp lady. And Nadia obviously has
more than a casual interest in Mike.
> Mikael shook his head, keeping a close eye out for the man chasing
> him. "I
> don't want to get her involved. This isn't some small time street
gang or
> pissed off boyfriend. I've got professionals on my tail, and they'll do
> anything to kill me."
>
> "I'm going to help," Yoshiko said firmly.
>
> Having lived the majority of his life around women, many of them
> strong-willed, had taught Mikael a rare talent most men didn't have:
> recognizing when they dug their heels wouldn't back off. She wasn't
Ummm... recognizing THAT when the dug IN their heels, THEY wouldn't...?
> going to
> leave him be, that meant putting her in a situation of minimal risk.
.,..be, and that...
> And he
> could use her help, it was true.
>
> It was then the first vestiges of a plan formed in his mind.
"Okay, we dust off and nuke the train station from orbit, it's the only
way-- no, wait, wrong movie."
> Xxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Perez and Bianca entered the terminal at the same time, eyes scanning
> every
> occupant in the place.
>
> Bianca said, "You've seen him up close. You'll probably spot him
> before me."
>
> Their communicator suddenly beeped. Bianca answered it while Perez
CommunicatorS, and ...answered hers while...
> kept
> looking around.
>
> "He just bought a ticket for the express to Markotta," Ishmael informed
> them. "It leaves in three minutes. I'm buying tickets for you right now.
> Pick them up at the gate and hurry before he escapes."
>
> Bianca grabbed Perez's arm and all but pulled him toward the gate. As
> they
> picked up their tickets, keeping their eyes open looking around,
Sug: ...keeping their eyes peeled,
>Ishmael
> called again.
>
> "The train's computer records his ticket as being punched and an
occupant
> having gotten on."
Sug: having boarded.
> They both turned and looked around until they spotted the train in
> question.
> Bianca said, "It's in our line of sight. There's no chance he can double
> back on us.
>
> "But there is a chance it'll take off without us. One minute," Perez
> warned.
>
> They pair picked up their tickets and ran to the express train, Perez
> nearly
> passing out on the way. Trying to keep him aware, Bianca said, "It's a
> small
> train. Only four cars. We'll find him quickly and corner him. We'll
> escort
> him off in Markotta, then find some out of the way place to kill him."
>
> Perez could only grunt a response as tears welled in his eyes from the
> pain
> in his chest.
He's dedicated, I'll give him that.
> The pair made it just in time as the doors hissed shut behind them,
> locking
> them in for the ride. They boarded the train and moved to the >
passenger
> compartments. All of them were open seats, making it easy to see all
> of the
> occupants all at once.
repeated "all"
> They moved through the first two cars quickly, nearly running. It was
> easy
> to do since there were less than a dozen passengers per car. At the
third
> car they paused, checked the lavatories, which were empty, and
> continued to
> the rear.
>
> "He's not here!" Perez said as the train began to pull out of the
> terminal.
>
> "Is there anywhere besides the lavatories he could have hidden?"
>
> "I don't think so."
>
> They heard a woman three seats in front of them snort, then cough. For
> just
> a moment, Perez thought she was laughing at them, then pushed the
thought
> from his mind. They had to find the target.
Heh. I thought so.
> "Shit!" Bianca cursed.
>
> Perez looked at her, then realized she was looking out the rear
window of
> the train as it left the station. Perez did the same as impossibly,
their
> target waved mockingly at them from the terminal.
Stupid thing to do. Tempting, but stupid. But again, Mike's an
amateur at this. A *talented* amateur, to be sure, but he doesn't have
the professional edge that Iria or Kei would have.
> Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
>
> Mikael knew he shouldn't do it, but he couldn't help himself. There
> really
> wasn't any risk involved. The express was automated, and wouldn't stop
> for
> anything other than obstructions or damage to the tracks. Any
> emergencies,
> and the passenger would just have to wait until they arrived at their
> destination. The waiver was right on the ticket about riding at one's
own
> risk. He hoped their bosses at YSC were waiting to execute them when
they
> arrived. Hell, another train was already arriving. Myce Central always
> bragged about their trains arriving on time, and it was that punctuality
> that had enabled he and Yoshiko to get him out of his situation.
>
> They couldn't even blow out the windows given how fortified they were,
> unless they had explosives with them. And judging by how enraged the
pair
> were, they knew they were finished, too. Mikael watched in amusement
> as one
> of them pulled out a communicator and began talking quickly in it. The
> woman
> babbled into it, and just as the pair reached the edge of his vision,
> their
> anger disappeared and they waved back. Happily.
Uh... oh. Ishmael?
> That was odd. It could have been a gesture of respect, but he doubted
it,
> especially given how angry they were moments before. He hoped they
hadn't
> discovered Yoshiko's presence and were planning to use her as leverage
> against him. He hadn't been enthusiastic about including her in his
> plans,
> but he needed someone to physically board the train in order for his
> trick
> to work. There was no way they could figure out it was her on their
> own, and
> she was too smart to shoot her mouth off.
>
> Mikael was still wondering what was going on when a voice directly
behind
> him caught his attention. It was a man having a conversation, though the
> slicer could only hear one side of it. He turned to see the man was
> speaking
> into a communicator, obviously having just gotten off the recently
> arrived
> train. The conversation had caught Mikael's attention for some reason,
> but
> he couldn't quite put a finger on why.
Ooooooboy.
> Finally the man said, "Yes, he's standing right in front of me. You
> want to
> talk to him?" The response was apparently an affirmative, since the man
> handed Mikael the communicator.
>
> Despite the sinking feeling in his gut, Mikael accepted it. "Yes?"
"Excuse me, do you have any Grey Poupon?"
> It was a woman's voice, "It's your friends who you just ditched on the
> train. Very clever."
>
> Mikael knew he should hang up and run for it, but instinct told him it
> was
> too late for that. He really shouldn't have stuck around to taunt them
> that
> way.
Yep.
> She continued. "It was almost clever enough, but you must have the worst
> timing of anyone I have ever met. The gentleman behind you is named
> Vyory,
> though it's not his real name. He was the last member of the team
> assigned
> to kill you, but wasn't able to rendezvous with us since he was out of
> town... until now. It really sucks to be you. I know you can't see
us, so
> I'll let you know we're waving good bye to you as well." The
communicator
> went dead.
The problem with taunting assassins is that it makes them very cranky.
And vengeful.
> Mikael turned to see Vyory was standing several feet behind him, out
> of easy
> reach, but not so far that the slicer could somehow escape. A hand
was in
> his pocket, and there seemed to be a pointed object in it, aimed
right at
> Mikael.
"Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"
> The slicer's eyes darted around, trying to find some means of escape.
> He was
> about to give up hope when potential salvation entered the terminal. A
> couple of policemen were walking around, apparently on routine patrol,
> given
> their relaxed state.
>
> Vyory spotted them at the same time. Unlike Mikael, he appeared
> unconcerned
> about their presence. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Calling out
> to them
> might inconvenience me, but it won't do you any good. I promise
you'll be
> the first one I shoot if you cry out. Now why don't we leave the
terminal
> and find a nice quiet out of the way place where we can talk?"
>
> "You mean shoot me without anyone interfering," Mikael said bitterly.
>
> "Maybe. But it'll keep you alive that much longer if we have to walk
> outside
> instead of me shooting you here and now. You're a smart boy. Maybe
> you'll be
> able to figure a way out of your predicament between here and there. I
> won't
> even make you walk fast. What do you say?"
Hope is a deadly weapon.
> The way the gun in the man's pocket shifted slightly meant he was
> preparing
> to shoot Mikael. There was no choice. He was more concerned with
having a
> chance to save his own skin rather than taking this man down with him.
"By the way, did anyone tell you I'm wearing a pocket nuke, linked to
an EEG?"
"Nice try."
> The
> slicer headed toward the exit to the terminal, the man following
> keeping a
> minimum safe distance between them, but now allowing anything to come
> close
> enough to cutting off the line of fire. Mikael took his time, hoping
> someone, anyone, might notice the suspicious nature of the man and
> interject
> themselves. But nothing happened, and they exited the terminal without
> incident.
"I swear, if I get out of this, I'm going to make sure all my jackets
have body armor liners."
> "To the left," Vyory ordered, pulling the gun out and waving it in the
> direction of the closest side street. Apparently he wasn't going to
waste
> any time, Mikael noted. Death was coming soon, and he couldn't think
of a
> way out of it.
>
> Mikael began to panic. He wasn't used to life and death situations like
> this. He was slicer with a love of fast cycles and women, not someone
who
> could win a fight or dodge a laser pointed right at him. He was
> useless in
> situations like this.
Despite being Iria's son. It works for me -- even with his genes,
there's no guarantee he'd be a natural at violence.
Hmmm... if he and Kei have kids, maybe his genes will tone down the
semi-latent Goddess Of Destruction genes Kei has? Please?
> They stopped halfway down the alley. The assassin made Mikael turn to
> face
> him, signaling this was the end of their journey.
>
> Mikael made one last desperate pleas. "I have valuable things I can
> give you
> in exchange for my life."
>
> The man shook his head. "Forget it, kid. I'm not a mercenary. I'm a
> professional."
>
> There was a zip through the air, and the sound of an impact of a solid
> object striking something soft. Mikael was stunned to see a gout of
> blood
> shoot out from Vyory's throat, nearly splashing on him. In the blink
> of an
> eye, a hole appeared in Vyory's forehead as well. The man fell
> face-forward
> onto the ground, unmoving.
Sug: face first.
> Mikael was still trying to figure out what had happened when a shadowy
> figure moved up from the mouth of the alleyway. A rough male voice said,
> "Sorry about the wait. I had to angle my shots so the wads didn't punch
> through him and hit you."
>
> The figure stepped out of the shadows and into the dull light. He was
> old,
> probably in his late fifties, with a number of scars and more gray than
> black in his hair and triangular beard. His clothing was plain, though
> well
> worn. It was rumpled, as though he didn't care about his appearance,
> though
> the cat-like grace with which he moved said he took much greater care
> of the
> shape his body was in. In his hand he wielded a long barreled pistol,
> which
> Mikael recognized as a darter, an accurate weapon that was preferred for
> silent, messy kills.
>
> The man ran a hand through his hair, the hunter's beads in them
...beads braided in it...
> clicking
> together. "Geez, kid, you're as bad as your Mom about getting into
> trouble.
> And here I thought you had better sense than her."
>
> "Fujikuro!" Mikael could have kissed the man, and would have, except
that
> would have earned him a couple of wads in the head and throat as well.
<snicker>
> The bounty hunter remained wary. "Anymore of them around?"
"any more..."
> "Two on an express train heading for Markotta. I think there's another
> one
> at Smoothie's place. I can give you directions."
>
> The bounty hunter bent down and began rifling through the dead man's
> pockets. "This one was a pro. How'd you get mixed up with so many of
> them?"
>
> "A favor for mom."
I *think* that, in this useage, "Mom" should be capped.
> Fujikuro looked at him incredulously. "She knows better than to put
> you in
> any real danger."
"Since you're utterly useless in any kind of fight."
> "It turned out it was way bigger than even she guessed," Mikael
> explained,
> which was the truth. Whenever Iria had her son help, it was always
> under the
> assumption he was never at risk. Had she known what she was really
> getting
> into, she'd have probably ordered him to go to ground and not surface
> until
> the matter had been put to rest. She would feel guilty enough once she
> found
> out how close he had come to being killed.
>
> Fujikuro pulled out a small blinking cylinder. After examining it for a
> moment, he pulled out a small box like device from one of his own
> pockets.
> He turned a dial on it, adjusting it several times, then smiled. "Great.
> They're wearing transmitters. It'll be easier to run them down with
this.
> There's only one more in the area."
>
> Once Mikael had a chance to calm down, he was able to think rationally.
> There were a few unexplained questions concerning Fujikuro. "How did you
> know I was in trouble?"
>
> "A little bird told me. Geez, this guy had no cash on him. Wonder if I
> should try raiding his credit cards?" Fujikuro said mostly to himself.
>
> It took Mikael a moment to figure out what had probably happened.
Yoshiko
> had called Madame Fortuna, who had in turn called Fujikuro in to help
> him.
> "I bet you didn't charge the little bird for your services."
>
> The bounty hunter scowled at him. "Yeah, I probably ought to bill you."
>
> Since Madame Fortuna had gone out of her way to save his life, Mikael
> decided to return the favor. "You know, you ought to think about
marrying
> her. She's definitely ready, and you're not getting any youn-" Mikael
> found
> having a pistol pointed at oneself was a definite conversation killer.
....yeah. That's one way to put it.
> "I could always say I arrived too late," Fujikuro warned.
>
> Mikael laughed nervously. Not that he thought the ornery bounty hunter
> would
> kill him. Wound maybe, but not kill.
Probably. Almost certainly.
> Fujikuro finished inspecting the body and stood up, prepared to head
> toward
> the end of the alley. "I'd better take you to the 'Touch of Heaven' so
> you
> can hide. Then I'll finish off the rest of these guys."
>
> Mikael shook his head. "Take me to the nearest spaceport."
>
> That made Fujikuro laugh. "I ain't a taxi service."
>
> "Mom's in trouble. I have to get this information to her."
>
> Fujikuro's shoulders slumped in defeat. Mikael noted that despite
> appearances, he must be getting soft. A couple of years ago, he would
> have
> feigned not caring about Iria's fate.
>
> "You going to need me to go along?" the bounty hunter asked.
>
> "No. Once I get to there, Kei can inform the 3WA and put the matter
"to there"?
> in
> their
> hands."
Except she can't. Which suggests that YSC's big secret is already
moving to protect itself.
And Iria's riding right into YSC's lap, solo, with Kilgore. Ooooh,
this is BAD....
> That caused Fujikuro to tense up. "Kei? 'Little red-haired just as
> reckless
"red-head"
> as Iria who grew up into one of the Dirty Pair,' Kei?"
>
> The description of Kei irked Mikael. "Kei the girl my mom knew, yeah.
> That
> one."
Heh. I think he's falling for her. How many guys would be offended by
that, even after sleeping with Kei?
> "If those two are back together, I doubt much will be left at ground
> level
do you mean "ground zero"?
> wherever they go," Fujikuro mumbled under his breath. "Fine, I'll get
> you to
> the spaceport. I'd tell you to keep them out of trouble, but I ain't
> one for
> wishing for the moon. Just try to help keep the alive."
theM
> "Deal. Now let's get going."
Not taking Fuji along is a bad idea -- Mike oughta hold onto all the
help he can. After all, if Ishmael manages to send his face&ID back to
YSC, YSC has the resources to potentially track him down, even if he's
using fake ID and slicer tricks. Especially if they anticipate that
he'll be making a beeline for Iria.
Hmmmm... that's something. How hard would it be for them to connect
Mike to Iria?
> Mikael and Fujikuro headed for the nearest spaceport, Mikael counting
the
> seconds. This time he would travel under an assumed name in order to get
> close enough to personally deliver the message to the women, then...
>
> .... then there'd be hell to pay.
>
> Xxxxxxxx
>
> [END Chapter]
Well, at least you didn't do that "End Fic" thing this time. <sniff>
.---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
| Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
| Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
| Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject |
`---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'