Yeah…it’s a pipe dream. But it’s all I got right now. She thought of her son and Slamm-0! back home. What if the boy becomes a technomancer? No one knew yet—it was too early to tell if he would develop the gift. And it was a gift. Netcat couldn’t see it any other way. But what kind of life would he have if he grew up persecuted, was hunted, captured, and got dissected?
This had to stop. She might not be able to stop it by herself, but she planned to at least make one hell of a statement about it.
She just wished Slamm-0! was on board with it all. He worried about their son, too. And he’d proven to be an incredible father, never missing a minute with their little Jack.
“I don’t think you should go,” Pistons had said two days earlier, after Netcat had confided in her. “Getting that close to Horizon makes me nervy. Yeah they’re full of drek, but they’re powerful, too. You know what they’ve done to their security, right? I mean…even with your mad skills or Slamm-0!’s, getting into their mainframe, even a tertiary host, will be next to impossible.”
“I just have to see the building. I have to put a face on it. I have to,” Netcat had told her. “I have to see the face of the traitor.”
And here it was. In all its glory.
As if on some ridiculous cue, the datasphere whispered to her, a warning of sorts as she detected another technomancer. She stepped to one side of the front doors and sat on a dark brown marble bench with a wage-slave, busy with his AR. Her own AR, ever-present on the edge of her peripheral vision, came to the forefront and searched IDs to find the techno.
The doors opened as a stream of people walked in, then paused and scrambled out of the way as a well-dressed dwarf and a large wolf exited. She zeroed in on the wolf with her e-sense—a technocritter. That’s where the signature was coming from. And he in turn stopped and looked in her direction.
Not liking where the situation was going, and listening to her own intuitive danger alarms, Netcat hurriedly compiled a sprite to duplicate the Matrix signature of the wage-slave next to her. Hacking his PAN was a breeze, as was imitating him. It was a trick she’d learned from other technomancers on GiTm0, and it seemed to work.
The dwarf looked around at the people moving back and forth, and if he looked at her through his AR, he’d just see another person on their basic commlink having a conversation. As for the critter? She wasn’t sure. The wolf didn’t growl at her or stare. In fact he seemed to lose interest as he stopped, dropped, and licked himself.
She suppressed a snicker as she watched them walk away. A pain between her eyes reminded her of the sprite’s presence, and she quickly released it. The headache would remain for a while—so while she had the creepy little dude in her sites, Netcat compiled a crack sprite with a cookie and sent it after the dwarf’s commlink. Within seconds, she had confirmation the cookie was in place, and dismissed the sprite. The cookie would tag the dwarf’s commlink and report back his activities in the Matrix. It wouldn’t give her the contents of any communications, but it would tell her where he went, who he spoke with, and what applications he launched.
Why the dwarf?
Easy. Why was a dwarf with a technocritter—an obviously trained one—coming out of Horizon?
Now her head really smarted. But she remained seated, watching metahumanity come and go, and making sure the dwarf didn’t come back because he registered her sprite’s hack.
After ten minutes or so, she stood and strolled toward the garage where Pistons’ Honda was parked. She had put a face to her nemesis—now she just needed a way in. And maybe the dwarf would be it.
Chapter Twelve
GiTm0
Welcome back to GiTm0, omae; your last connection was severed: 7 hours, 22 minutes, 3 seconds ago.
BOLOs
Just a reminder—this board’s got less than six hours before it terminates in your comms. Send your sprites out twenty-four hours after that for the new link.
New handles to look out for: Wipeout, EasterBunnyun. Full list available [Link][Guest] but don’t read the list online. And don’t forget, these runners are out for the nuyen, and they don’t give a damn about us.
Got a heads up on a host just outside of Seattle. Not sure what the subscription is on it, but it’s showing red, and the two TMs that went to check it out haven’t logged back in.[Link][Guest]
Remember, GOD is always watching.
NeW oNLiNE
* More local—both Horizon and Knight Errant were mentioned in a Los Angeles article. Three bodies were found in a Horizon Annex early this morning. The building was listed as a repository for Horizon archives, and the system inside is a dinosaur, predating 2064. Not even on the Matrix. The media isn’t giving this much attention. But really…if the host isn’t that important to Horizon—why are they paying Knight Errant for security on it? And why would anyone hack it?
* It is with great sadness I have to report another shadowrun team has gone missing after accepting the job to infiltrate the Renraku Tower and extract the technomancers held there. Our thanks and appreciation goes out to their friends and family. We’re working on clandestine compensation.
* Got another weird story relating to Contagion Games and their gaming host. Seems Lone Star was called in to break up some sort of situation on the new host the company rolled out just last night, but no information is available. This story showed up, and not long after, several cases of what is being termed Cortex Rot were reported in three hospitals, all within the Seattle and Denver area. Coincidence?
EYES OPEN
>>>>Open Thread/Subhost221.322.1
>>>>Thread Access Restrictions:
>>>>Format:
>>>>File Attachment:
>>>>Thread Descriptor: Closer Look
>>>>Thread Posted By User: Shyammo
> Need everyone to notice EasterBunnyun’s been added to the BOLOs. Had him follow the link last time, and used a cookie because he was asking too many questions about our real world identities. Traitor’s been looking into our handles and contacting Ares.
> RoxJohn
> No way! Not Easter! What’d you do?
> 404Flames
> Revoked his ass. Got a contact working intel on him. And it is a him. Shyammo was the one that compiled the cookie data. We’ll have him soon.
> RoxJohn
> Way to go, Rox. Good to see you’re protecting us behind the scenes. Also anyone find anything out on this Contagion Games? Hip, weren’t you working on it?
> 404Flames
> Nothing yet. Where ever they came from and whoever’s funding them is under some seriously tight security. But funny about that Cortex Rot being reported—I found a few follow up blogs from two of those treated. All of them talked about nightmares of being eaten by a tree.
> Bakersman
> Like that’s not creepy.
> LongTong
> It is creepy. All of this is creepy. But we can’t lose sight of getting those technomancers out of Renraku.
> Prettyboy
> Working on it, Pretty. Got a few things in place. Might need a few extra hands when I know more. Hey Sol, you know anything about that Annex?
> Netcat
> Soldat’s taking a breather, Net. Don’t know what you’re talking about.
> Silk
> What’s wrong with Soldat? He’s never sick. Silk, contact me offline.
> Netcat
> Hey Rox—what do you mean we’ll have him soon? You’re not actually advocating using the same sort of kidnapping scenario the corps use on us, are you? Is that why we’re here?
> Venerator
> I’m advocating keeping our asses our own, Ven. I don’t like technomancers taking advantage of their own kind’s vulnerability to make a buck. That’s not why Shy and I started this board. We’re here because we have to get organized. We have to fight back. And we have to be informed.
> RoxJohn
Chapter Thirteen
Bang Bang B
ooty Club
Los Angeles
This was shaping up to be the worst day Mack Schmetzer could remember.
“I’m sorry, Mack,” Preacher said as he stood beside his boss. “But Maria’s body vanished. Their security’s reviewing the surveillance tape, but it looks like someone hacked in and set it to just loop a ten-minute interval taken from earlier in the day. No one saw the body snatcher come in or leave.”
Mack spit to his left, away from the troll. They stood in front of the GMC in the lowest floor of his club’s basement, the former boiler room for what had once been a school, and was now his business and home. It was also a safe haven for his team, as well as freelancers that knew Mack.
“Where the fuck is Blackwater?”
Preacher shrugged. “Said he had something personal to take care of. Could be anything.”
It was getting so Blackwater had a lot of personal things to take care of. And Mack was still pissed at him for leaving Maria’s body in the first place.
Not that it mattered now.
Shayla had the hood up on the GMC, and all its doors open. The vehicle was hooked up to a dizzying array of wires and thick tubing.
Mack crossed his arms over his chest as he said, “But why? Why go through that much trouble to hide taking her body? Why take it at all?”
Preacher wasn’t the tallest troll Mack knew, but he was wide. And he was definitely the most imposing character Mack kept on his payroll. He was also damn good at slinging a spell. “If we keep going on the theory that the hacker that out-hacked Cole was the one that killed Maria and hacked the GMC,” he said, pointing at the truck with his horns, both elaborately carved with symbols Mack wasn’t familiar with. “It might make sense that he’s covering his tracks and disposing of the body.”
“No. No one’s that stupid. You don’t leave a body for the authories to find and then go back for it,” Mack shook his head. “This guy out-hacked Cole. I’ve never known anyone to out-hack him. What bothers me more is that Cole didn’t even seem concerned that Maria’s body was still in there. We don’t leave team members behind—dead or alive. He just bolted.”
“I noticed that.”
Shayla emerged from the truck, her hair damp against her head. Her SURGE onset had happened late in life, and she remembered how she looked as a human. Mack had seen the pictures she kept tucked under her pillow. Though her mutations weren’t as severe as some of the ones Mack had seen in his lifetime, he knew she was still touchy about the way she looked. Her neck wasn’t as broad, nor was her body, though her shoulders were wide. Her hair was long and thick and the color of spun gold. Her tusks were smaller than normal, and her eyes a brilliant sapphire.
She was also very shapely, and Mack was always embarrassed for his race when men looked at her body, whistled, and then cringed at her face.
Bastards. None of ’em were good enough for his Shayla.
Right now her expression was less than happy. “Dammit,” she said in her deep voice. “It’s all good.”
“What are you looking for?”
Preacher chuckled. “She’s looking for a reason this other guy was able to hack her RCC.”
Mack frowned at her. “Wouldn’t you be looking at your deck?”
She nodded. “I already did. Nothing. I tried calling Blackwater to help me track this hacker down, but he hasn’t gotten back to me either.” She looked at the mess around her and sighed. “This is gonna be a bitch to put back together.”
Preacher turned away, pulling his own monocle down over his left eye. Someone on the club’s staff was calling him. Preacher was the liaison between the customers and staff. So if they were actually contacting him, it was important.
But Mack already knew what it was. “Is it the Johnson that called earlier?”
Preacher turned back to him. “Upstairs. Boss, why’d you have them come here?”
“Oh, I’m not worried about this one knowing or suspecting. They’ve got just as many skeletons in their closet as I do.”
Preacher’s expression fell.
Mack took the outside elevator, the one that opened up through a fake brick wall around the corner. The cold greeted him outside, and he pulled his jacket up around his neck as he turned the corner and walked into the Bang Bang Booty.
He spotted the Johnson easy enough, sitting in the farthest corner of the bar at Mack’s table. The bartender handed Mack an OJ as he moved through the dancing bodies and pulled up a chair facing the woman.
Charis Monogue was well known in Horizon news as the ever-present woman behind Artus Wagner, the face the corp tacked on the Los Angeles Personnel Office. Mack had downloaded the dossier, but he’d also used his old access and downloaded a few other choice bits of information on both Charis and Artus. Namely Wagner’s abrupt “promotion” within the Horizon company after the massacre in Vegas.
Charis was a tall one, with well-toned long legs, broad shoulders, and a perfectly chiseled nose. It was all accented by the delicate points of her ears as they protruded through her luxurious ripple of blonde hair. She smiled at him as he sipped his juice. “You look like hell.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” He put his elbows on the table. “Let’s get to the point. We didn’t get your intel last night.”
“I know.” Charis chewed on her lower lip. “Don’t look so surprised. There’s this horrible little dwarf nosing around—met him at the party Artus and I attended last night. He was all chummy with the President—”
“President Cline?”
“Oh no. The president of the department Artus and I work for. I knew about the botch at the Annex because it’s set to alert me if anything happens there. Something Artus wanted set up over a year ago. I called him with the news and he agreed to come in early, then that dwarf showed up in his office this morning. He already knew what had happened at the Annex, and he knew about Artus’s friend in the PCC police.” She put up a red-lacquered finger before he could speak. “That’s how I knew you’d failed. Someone else was in that Annex, and somehow Powell knew he’d be there.”
“Powell?”
“That’s the dwarf’s name. Draco Powell. He’s creepy and arrogant, and I don’t like him. He’s got a hard-on for technomancers.”
Mack sat back in the chair. “Is that what this is all about? Hell, no,” he said as he stood up and his chair scraped back. “I ain’t getting involved with that hot rock, Charis. I told you that when you contacted me. Dammit…I shoulda known. If it deals with Horizon, then it’s about the TMs. We’re done. I’m keeping the retainer.”
He reached down to take his OJ, but Charis grabbed his wrist. “Wait—Mack, don’t do this.”
“Charis, someone hacked Shayla’s RCC last night and picked that guy up. I saw them leave. So it wasn’t just one person—it was two.”
“You saw the car? Did you get the license?”
“Yeah, and I’m running it. Privately. But I’m done with this. I don’t get involved with technomancers. I don’t hire them, and I sure as hell don’t save them.” He twisted his wrist away. “Is that what that data is? Does it have something to do with Vegas? Or something else?”
“I can’t say. I didn’t put it there. I told you, Wagner’s the one hiding it, not me. My job is to get it away from him.” She pursed her lips. “It is helpful to know there were two others there and not just one. I am sorry you lost one of your team.”
“Yeah. Real nice of you to notice.” He downed his OJ and stood beside the table, looking down at her. He and Charis went back a lot of years, before he decided on augmentation. Before puberty and the world took away their dreams. He knew things about her that would make his team turn and run. “She’s missing.”
Charis looked up at him. “Who’s missing?”
“My team member. Her body’s missing. Out of the morgue. We were going to retrieve her—so she couldn’t be traced back to us and you—but she was already gone. Wiped from the morgue records.”
“Wiped from the records? No surveillance vids
?”
“My hacker said it was all clean. I know her folks, Charis. When she came to me, ’bout five years ago, she was a runaway. Took me a year to gain her trust, and I let her parents know where she was. Of course I didn’t tell them she was a runner, but that she was working for me at the club. And now I have to tell them she’s dead, and I got no body to give them.” He toyed with his glass, wishing it was whiskey. “That bastard killed her, Charis. Whoever he is. He took your data and he killed my shaman.”
“He could be a technomancer. Or the other one if there were two.”
“And you think this because of Powell. Did he say he knew it was a technomancer?”
She reached into her suit jacket pocket and handed him a card. “This is what they discussed this morning. Artus likes me to monitor his office meetings.” Charis frowned. “What you’re going to hear is a bit…out there. And I think this Powell is right out there with it. I also suspect he’s an investigator.”
Mack palmed the card. “Private or Lone Star?”
“I’d say private.” She grabbed her purse and her commlink and fastened it back on her wrist. “I need to get back to the office. I left before that little pissant did. I’ll look into finding your shaman.” She paused after she stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “Find the data, Mack. Find it. For all our sakes.”
He stood there for several more minutes before he looked at the card. It was a generic orange one. Not even a Horizon logo imprinted on it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t bugged. He licked his lips and thought of Maria and her family, and thought of old ghosts that seeing Charis always brought back…
A missing body, missing data, a nervous CEO assistant, a private investigator, and a possible technomancer and friend. “My life just got way more exciting than I can stand.”
Shadowrun: Dark Resonance Page 6
