The Last Stand, In Character Options

[Ears]

Detroit, July the 8th

Ouch! What have I been sleeping on?

Rolling over with closed eyes Clamp grabs for his back. Smashed beer cans? I've hardly started when

The dream! Something about the dream. It was different this time. House!

Good morning sir, it's...

Shut up! Dim the lights, ignore any calls.

What a mess! But first...

Almost breaking into a run, Clamp hurries over to a small cupboard and takes a battered old paper notebook from the bottom drawer, turns over pages furiously until finding an empty one and starts wrtiting.

A voice? ... A mission? ... To save the world? Somebody is slotting some serious drek. Gotta hope it's not me. Anyway have to write it all down while it's still fresh. And those seven people I don't know? Dream should have hit a painter! ...

@Gremish

[ Spoiler ]

In case it's needed: Memory (Log + Wil) to remember the dream as exactly as possible:
11 dice = 6 4 2 3 5 2 4 2 3 4 5 = 3 hits
And Artisan (defaulting to Int) for getting a horrible group painting of the seven unknown faces:
2 dice = 2 2 = 0 hits, not that I did expect much. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/wink.gif)

House, time?

It's 10:23 and you have...

Yeah, cut it out!

Time to talk to EZ and Brick. Hoi chummers, got time to save the fragging world? Guess I better start with EZ, mages are used to some wonky shit...

Shoving the notebook into a pocket, Clamp heads for the stairs.

House, the spellworm still home?

EZ is ...

@cndblank

[ Spoiler ]

So, is EZ home? How do we want to do this?

[crizh]

The Circle, Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 06:53

She awoke with a start. Purpose coursed through her veins. She de-rezed the hammock and jumped in a flash of light straight to the center of the circle. Grabbing a software construct she started feeding it instructions for a Data Search. Half way through this burst of furious activity she paused and opened a small window in mid-air that started to copy the search terms she was feeding the construct.

She set the construct running and then uploaded a small package to an anonymous online data-storage site. She encrypted the location of the package and added it to the list of search terms she'd copied. Removing all the spaces in the text produced a single block of characters that meant nothing if you weren't searching for at least half those terms. She plonked the file on three different Wiki's under the heading 7/7/579BCE.

I'll take that down in a couple of hours. That ought to be plenty time. Now, closer to home

Text@Vice: Hey, kid, I need to talk to you in private, urgently.

She attached an archive of the same comms package she'd just uploaded to the text message. Vice knew what to do with it.

Only then did she allow her tiny form to slump against the edge of the huge horizontal stone slab. She lifted her head to the heavens and yelled.

What the hell was that all about?!

Oh! The sim feed...

She immediately dived into the recording. There wasn't much more than a 50/50 chance that it had worked but her heart rate still spiked as such opened the file...

[DWC]

07-Jul-2071 1147 GMT+8
Downtown Victoria Island, Hong Kong Free Enterprise Zone

<Music Bed: Slayer – Raining Blood (Instrumental)>

Out of the corner of his eye, Vice noticed the blinking of an incoming text message icon, obscured by the massive wall of text from the biomonitor.

A quick tap and the envelope unfolded.

�I hate coincedences. They never are.�

The door to the master bathroom was still closed, and the message was five hours old.

He connected to the intercom and spoke into the bathroom as he pulled on a pair of khaki shorts, his armored vest, and a raw linen shirt. The machine pistol is tucked into its’ concealed holster in the small of his back, and his commlink falls into a pocket.

“I’ll leave your shoes with the concierge. Give him my apartment number and have him call you a cab. The alarm turns on in ten minutes. You don’t want to be in here when that happens.�

After ordering the CHN to arm the security system in ten minutes, Vice steps into a pair of lime green flip-flops and heads out the door.

<Vice @Granny: Walking out the door now. There in a few.�>

The elevator doors open the second time, depositing him in the subbasement parking garage. The performance sedan starts as he approaches it, its’ door already unlocked. The pair of 5 inch platform heels are sitting on the back seat, along with his suit jacket.

Tires screech as the wide bodied sedan navigates the maze of parking spaces headed towards the surface. At the entrace, he tosses the shoes at a bored valet.

“Leave these with the concierge. Their owner will be looking for them in about five minutes. She was in the shower when I woke up. Let me know if she’s worth calling back.�

The valet chuckles, tucks the shoes under his arm and heads inside out of the rain as Vice dives the car out into the Tuesday afternoon traffic. After ten minutes, he’s in the Cross Harbor Tunnel, and acutely aware of the remnants of both his morning workout and his three day spree of debauched self destruction still clinging to his skin. The windows go down and the sunroof opens for the rest of the trip through the tunnel.

Vice remembers the attached file as the car erupts onto the streets of southern Kowloon, headed for the abandoned mall, built into the husk of the HMS Whampoa.

�Wasn’t one of these things supposed to say “Eat me?�

The box representing the attachment hovers before him for a moment. Then he mentally slams the big, red, candy like button on the top, and the bundle does its’ thing.

After a few seconds of instructions whiz past his eyes, in an all too familiar pattern, Vice slaps his forehead, and eases the car into what passes for a parking space. While the link finishes securing itself, he crosses the street, oblivious to the rain and makes his way inside.

Over the secure connection, the first question is the obvious one.

<"You are in Whampoa, right? I'd hate to have come over here only to find out that you went to Kuala Lampur for the week."

[crizh]

The Circle, Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 06:53

No need to come over sonny, I just have a couple of tiny questions. Does the date 7th July 579BC mean anything to you?

[DWC]

"There was no July in 579BC. Not that that makes dreaming about it, you, 8 people I don't know, and saving the world any less weird, though. And it's too late. I just got here. It's been a long couple of days and it didn't occur to me to open the attachment until I was already in Kowloon. Besides, I needed to get out of the house anyway."

[crizh]

The Circle, Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 11:47

That settles it then kid. Come on over. Loading dock 5c will be open to your thumbprint when you get here, just park next to the bus. You know your way from there right? I'll make sure nobody bothers you.

[DWC]

<Music Cue: Oingo Boingo - Weird Science>

From the hallowed halls of the glass and plasteel capitalist cathedrals of Seader-Krupp to the bamboo huts and lush jungles of southeast Asia, nowhere Vice has ever been feels as alien as the inside of Whampoa. The locals no longer look at him like an invader, but no one is ever going to mistake him for belonging there.

Taking great care not to step on anything other than bare floor, he makes his way into the converted store, stepping over power conduits, fiberoptic cable, and casings (gutted and otherwise) of all sorts of electronics, drones, and god only knows what else, all the while looking around for where the ex-little old lady might be hiding.

"I'm sorry to drop in so suddenly, but I think the situation just might justify my reaction. To put it bluntly, what the hell? I've had the same dream every year for as long as I can remember, and suddenly, it was different, and it was shoving me towards saving the world. And you and 8 people I've never met before are saving it with me."

[crizh]

The Circle, Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, Noon

Come in laddie, stick the kettle on. I'll be out in a minute.

Although he'd seen this before there was always something extremely disconcerting about the way his friend was slowly merging with the machines in this place. In particular the huge, crucified, medical drone that encased her frail form while her mind was elsewhere always gave Vice the shivers.

While she extracted herself from the menacing exo-skeleton he made himself busy trying to find the kettle in the make-shift kitchen.

[DWC]

After some searching, the kettle is located, filled, and set to boil. His task complete, Vice settles onto a couch, rubbing his forehead in a vain attempt to soothe the hangover headache.

"Is it wrong that I feel like I should genuflect whenever I come in here? Especially since I don't feel right doing it when I go to confession?"

[cndblank]

Shoving the notebook into a pocket, Clamp heads for the stairs.

House, the spellworm still home?

EZ is not currently home, sir. However he did enter the house from the backdoor, used the facilities, and then exit out the same door about 11 minutes ago. Also I need to report that the master bedroom window was destroyed when Brick exited the house. And you have....

@Ears

[ Spoiler ]

EZ is out back

[Glyph]

Viper, Seattle

Viper fidgets as she waits for the others to arrive, her fingers impatiently drumming the tabletop as she occasionally takes a sip from the large drink.

Abe is the first to arrive. She sees he has brought some of the usual swag for her, as she checks out the contents of the bag, and pays him for the fresh produce. A young Bohemian-looking couple smirk knowingly as she pays Abe for the "good stuff", thinking they are seeing a strung-out druggie paying for a fix. Ironic, since Viper disdains the chemical brainbenders that the pathetic sheep need to smooth away life's hard edges.

"Hey, Abe. Glad you made it. I'm waiting for one more person, she's kind of the late-all-the-time sort, but she should still be here pretty soon. So, how have things been going?"

She makes small talk with Abe, the two of them catching up on what has been going on since the last time they saw each other. By the time Weaver shows up, looking slightly apologetic, Viper has gotten a second drink, with a glazed apple fritter to accompany it this time.

She gets the younger girl a drink and waves her to the empty seat, before becoming more serious, her bright green eyes intent as she looks at both of them.

"The reason I called you both here may seem a bit... strange... so, bear with me. After all, it's a strange world. Inexplicable things, magical oddities, barely conceivable concepts and entities floating out there. For some reason, I have been plagued by a singular vision, one that has reoccurred every year, for as long as I can remember. Not a pleasant vision, by any means. And nothing stops it from coming, nothing. This year, though, was different. It finally spoke to me. It seems to want something, some artifact whose pieces have been scattered, and it showed me the faces of others, saying we were all linked. That we needed to find each other, work together. Most of those people, I didn't know. But two of those faces were yours."

Viper stops and shakes her head ruefully, as if aware of how strange this might sound to the other two, then her eyes are riveted back on them.

"Weaver, you asked me if I had worked any major mojo last night. I didn't, I was in the safest place I could find, waiting for the vision. I need to know, though. Did either of you have that same dream?"

[crizh]

Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, Noon

Granny paused as she climbed down the front of the drone hanging from the ceiling and looked back up at it before chuckling softly.

Probably not. Kemuel assures me that the similarities between the Resonance and the sort of thing we would once have described as God are far from coincidental. And he should know, I distilled him from the sum of humanities knowledge of both the Resonance and Religion.


She jumped nimbly down from the last rung and landed barefoot on the tiled floor. Vice used to find this extremely disturbing, watching a wrinkly old grandmother clad in nothing but a very short skin-tight wetsuit. Watching the lithe, petite body that now housed that mind wandering around in the same skintight wetsuit was at least twice as bad.

So, I'm pretty sure we're fucked. The extent to which we are fucked is not yet certain but I'm pretty certain it's going to be very, very bad. I've started looking for the others and stuck up some markers to make it easier for them to find me but I thought I'd start with you 'cos I knew where you were and I trust you with my life. You wouldn't be in here if I didn't.

It's task complete, the kettle clicked off. Granny picked it up and poured a small amount of boiling water into the tea-pot. She crossed to the middle of the floor and sat cross-legged, brushing her long red locks back over her shoulder and fixing Vice with her shining green eyes.

There's some stuff I need to tell you, I normally wouldn't tell anybody this and you probably aren't going to like it. You know I'm not keen on elves, you probably know that is because I think they're a bunch of elitist snobs who stole a whole country that my family have close ties to. What you don't know is that I remember how it used to be.

I was twelve when the first elf was born.

I remember it clear as day, it took a few days for people to realize, maybe two dozen births globally but the TV was ablaze with it for months. I watched magic return to the world Vice, I remember, all too clearly what it was like before.

I've been having the same dream you have every year since the day I was born. Since long before the magic came back. Which means that whoever or whatever is sending them is quite literally not of this world. I only know of two groups that have been around that long and I wouldn't trust the elves any further than I could throw the Dragons.

I can't stand all this born to greatness, higher destiny crap. In my day everyone was born equal and we all had the same opportunity to make something of our lives for good or ill.

She falls backwards and lies on the floor, arms out-stretched, staring through the ceiling.

I wonder now if my intense dislike of all that 'Harry Potter' pish is because I sub-consciously suspected that this day was coming. That a big voice was going to boom down from the clouds 'Arthur, Arthur...'

She starts giggling manically and takes several seconds to regain her composure before suddenly sitting bolt upright again.

Anyway, enough about me, how are you? Any hot new ass gracing the sheets at chez Vice?

[Ears]

Detroit

EZ is not currently home, sir. However he did enter the house from the backdoor, used the facilities, and then exit out the same door about 11 minutes ago. Also I need to report that the master bedroom window was destroyed when Brick exited the house. And you have missed a call by Bear.

Brick jumped through the window? Great. At least he didn't wait for winter. Hmm, the backdoor 11 minutes ago? Prolly in his magic place doing whatever it is he does there.

I need coffee. Clamp walks over into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of cold soykaf from the machine.
Blech! This drek must have been here forever.
Starting to make a fresh can of ZAP! AWAKE!, Camp wonders how to breach the subject.
...EZ you know I had this strange dream and well you and Brick and some strange.. Nope. What can you tell me about dreams? Strange recurring dreams. Prophetic dreams perhaps? Nah.

What the heck! Brick's not the only one who can do that!
Grabbing the not yet completely filled can of soykaf and two mugs Clamp walks out the kitchen, the backdoor and over to EZ. He stops a few meters from him, takes a deep breath and..

Gotta get to the wonky part sometime anyway

How do you feel about saving the world with Brick, me and a bunch of strangers?

Jumped out of the window. Now what does the concrete feel like?

[Scope_47]

Tokyo

Julianne giggles and remarks "And I thought you didn't learn anything from that date... we'll make a proper girlfriend out of you yet" with a wink. Then she replies to Malloc's idea thoughtfully Hmmm that's not a bad idea at all... especially if we can get Horizon to pay for it... there was a trideo premiere I was supposed to go to in Seattle, and I told Jerry no... I can call him back up and have him tell them I changed my mind... if we're lucky, we can get the schedule to take us to Seattle for the premiere with a few days left over, then to Detroit for that talk show with the little fat fellow that keeps requesting an interview, then set up a few days long layover in Hong Kong on the way back... we can even get in that shopping if we arrange for publicity shopping - you know, where the stores give me free product to be seen buying their stuff...

As she's speaking, she lays out her outfit for the day - settling on neither dress she had picked out originally and instead picking a midnight blue chinese styled dress with a leg slit to her waist on one side and shimmering black embroidery and trim. She wanders into the bathroom to undress and take a quick shower...

What are you doing? You know he can see you don't you? Julia thinks to the others in horror.

Its not like EVERYONE who's experienced our SIMs doesn't know exactly what our body looks - and feels - like. Jane replies snidely.

So what if she sees, I mean, I seriously doubt that she even cares about things like that... Julianne mentally shrugs at the argument of her sisters.

IT, IT SLOT IT! It is not a woman, IT isn't even a man! IT is a machine that got too big for its breeches and decided to go do its own thing instead of following its original design! Stop treating the thing like a person! Enigma mentally cries out in frustration.

As Jane, Julia, and Enigma argue - Julianne turns on the water and enjoys a hot shower, letting the noise of the water help drown out the heated argument taking place in her mind.

[BlackHat]

Tokyo, July 7, 2071

Malloc.I seemed pleased by the positive response his suggestion generated. "If arrangements become complex, inform me."

If Malloc.I was at all interested in the shower-scene, he did not show it. Malloc.I had never really shown a firm grasp of the concept of privacy, but at least half of Julianne's other personalities were pleased when he seemed to lose interest and his icon faded out of her perception.

Meanwhile, Malloc.I turned his attention to another icon who was skulking around on a popular Seattle node. He was running a data search, comparing characteristics of the images Julianne had created with those of the billions of pictures scattered around the local Matrix landscape. It was going to take some time, and Malloc.I was not convinced that the data he had to work with was going to be accurate enough. He also kept finding himself distracted by what the other users were searching for, or talking about. However, he was fairly successful in keeping himself on track.

[DWC]

Whampoa Data Haven

Vice has always watched intently as Granny climbed out of the medical drone. Before, it was to be ready to catch her if she fell. Now, it’s a spectator sport, and he has to stop himself from smacking his lips.

As Granny relates the early days of the birth of the Sixth world, he nods along. When the subject turns to his self destructive social life, he nearly leaps to his feet.

One outstretched finger points accusingly at the tiny woman as he towers over her. “That’s not fair. You know I’m powerless in the face of my affliction. I’m sick, and I need help.�

He smirks at his own theatrics and drops the feigned indignation.

“Eventually. But it won’t be any time soon if I have anything to say about it. If it were your habit, would you be in any hurry to quit?�

The question quickly becomes rhetorical, as he barrels onward with his answer.

“As for the latest news, I can’t be sure about the last one, since she was still in the shower when I left and I remember almost nothing of the last four days, but the concierge is good about telling me which ones he thinks I should call back. But really, the pattern holds. Joygirls who do 10am house calls on a Thursday, coke whores looking for someone who’ll feed their habit, vacationers in the casinos looking for a scandalous story to share with the girls in the office when they get back to Tokyo, bachelorette parties, the repair tech from my MSP, street racing groupies, rebounding divorcees, cougars trying to hold onto their youth, college girls who think I’m mature and sophisticated because I don’t live with three of my buddies from high school, wageslaves looking for the giddy thrill of having their face smashed into a pillow that normally has a gun under it, anyone in a short skirt who doesn’t throw soykaf at me when I say something lewd to them when I’m stopped at a red light…�

Mid-ramble, he catches himself starting to leer, steps over her and begins pacing. “Wow. I really am out of control.�

“I’ve always assumed that you remembered a little bit about what things were like before. My mother taught me never to ask, but I figured you were born sometime between the turn of the century and the awakening. Good to see that I was right. And of course, your secrets, like every other part of you, are safe with me.�

“I always wrote off the dreams of because when I was a little kid, my parents told me I was just getting too caught up on the rapture and revelations stuff I got in mass every Sunday morning. In my teens, I thought I was just weird. In my 20s, I thought I might be a little crazy. Now, both look like great choices. To be honest, I look like hell and smell like a brothel because I was trying to skip the dream this year by going on a three day bender, and being out cold all day and all night. Obviously, it didn’t work. Knowing that this thing comes from something from before the awakening explains why it’s not just a dream.�

“I haven’t done anything to look for the faces I saw, since I can’t draw worth a damn, and I figured that the odds of me finding someone on the matrix that you didn’t was somewhere between slim and none. Am I crazy for considering posting my face and an anonymous commcode in a few random places to see who calls? It can’t be much worse than leaving some random woman alone in my place.�

[crizh]

Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, Noon

As habits go it's not one I would recommend that you give up any time soon. Trust me, thirty years of getting none at all is much worse than occasionally waking up next to some minger.

She slaps the flats of her palms on the floor and then stands. Crossing back to the kitchen she pours the warm water out of the tea-pot and starts the kettle up again. She rummages around until she finds some vacuum sealed bags containing what Vice knows to be preposterously expensive leaves. She carefully crushes them while she's waiting for the kettle to boil, whistling what sounds like a Celtic lullaby as she does so. The leaves go in a little ball of steel mesh that hangs inside the tea-pot, the boiling water is added and the whole concoction is left to 'steep' for 6 minutes.

She turns her attention back to her young male companion.

Don't feel bad about it. I should still be in a medically induced coma at this point. It's clear avoiding the vision is not an option. As to finding the others I have a feeling that they will find us before long. Which reminds me...

She crosses to the sofa and waves her hand in the air as she collapses into it. An enormous holo-display erupts into life forming a ring 20' across that encircles the seating area. Dozens of news-feeds, VPN's and AR windows dance around you. She expertly selects what look like several online encyclopedia sites and starts deleting entries. They all appear to be in Kanji. She then re-creates the pages in English on a number of UCAS sites and sets a timer to count down from eight hours.

If the AI hasn't found us by now I'm very surprised. In fact if he isn't peering through one of these security cameras as we speak I'm very surprised. America should start to wake up about now and if the others had a night like we did their data-searches ought to start almost immediately. Hopefully we'll be contacted by tea-time.

She gets up and pads back through the holographic wall and out of sight.

Milk and sugar dear?

[Intro]

Firehouse Cafe, Seattle

Abe watched the other two, along with the street traffic, as Viper told them about her dream. He was on his second coffee now too, like Viper. Kid seemed kinda freaked, and it was an unusual kind of thing, but he'd seen some pretty weird things out in the desert, too. He wasn't quite sure how he should take this, yet.

"Don't know if it was the same dream, in the details. But yeah, the shattered crystal, and the ten faces across the world, yours among them, that's all pretty similar."

He paused for a moment, had some more coffee - he really liked the large cups they had in this place.

"Tell you one thing, though. If the three of us need to find seven other people and then actually accomplish something with them, it won't go smooth. Nothing involving more than a few people ever goes cleanly, and even then it's rare enough."

Abe settled back in his looked over at Weaver, wondering what she thought of all this.

[Oenone]

Cheerfully accepting the offered drink, Weaver settles on an unoccupied chair and rests her attache case on her lap.

Her expression seeming a little glazed as Viper and Abe discuss the dream while she sips at scalding coffee.

"Guess I'll have to re-do my top five weirdest experiences list," she declares solemnly. "The question is do we want to find them? Is the dream legit and we're the good guys?" There is a pause, then with a shrug she adds "And most importantly are there another bunch of people having dreams about stopping us collecting those crystal bits?"

She chews on her lip for a bit, shoves her hand into her pocket to shifting something about and declares "Going to do a little 'trix hunting, be right back." Then without waiting for a reply she slips into VR to flex virtual muscles.

[ Spoiler ]

She's turned her directional microphone on and pointed it at the table. It's slaved to her Biological commlink and she's listening to the audio while in VR. She's also using the Emotitoys Camera to keep an eye on the meat world. Although her attention is fixed on the Matrix stuff she's doing, which I'll post in the OOC thread.

[DWC]

Whampoa Data Haven

�Milk and sugar, thanks.�

Vice continues circling the room, dodging AR windows, reading the random articles that have been sent up as virtual signal flares, while his agent digs up specifications on cybernetic ultrawideband radar systems.

“So, got a plan other than having tea and waiting for an agent to get lucky? I ran out of good ideas a while ago.�

[crizh]

Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 12:15

Yes, but it might take some time so I'm hoping it will remain as plan B. I could try a Resonance search in the Endless Archive. But to do that I would have to undergo submersion and even then Resonance searches often take unpredictable lengths of time. I know a group here that might help me submerge, they weren't very keen on helping me before, I think they thought I was a short timer and wouldn't be worth the effort, they might help me out now that things have changed. I've already sent feelers out in their direction but I'm not going to hold my breath.

We're more likely to get a hit of the honeypots I set up. I council patience, dear boy, patience.

[DWC]

Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 12:15

"What?"

Vice's stare is blank, confused by the jargon of technomantic traditions. Then a spark of an idea rips across his face. He pulls the globe icon from the corner of his field of vision, and spins it slightly to the east, then waaaaaaaaaaaay back to the west, before shrinking it back to its' normal size.

"Wait a minute. When I was a kid, I always had the dream at night. As I've moved around the world, it's always happened at night. So, it's probably happening to everyone else at night, and the people from Seattle and Detroit probably haven't even fallen asleep to have theirs yet, and won't be awake and searching afterwords until after midnight."

The pacing stops.

"How about this. We finish our tea, then cruise back downtown for lunch, and so I can grab a gym bag, and then hit an indoor rock climbing wall out in Chai Wan so you can kick the tires on the new you. Won't exactly get me out of your hair, and it's too fucking vile outside to get any fresh air, but it beats sitting around waiting for the software to work its' magic and I'm far less likely to step on something important."

[crizh]

Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 12:15

She looked quizzically at Vice as he span the globe and slowly raised a single eyebrow.

There's a terrible echo in here.

Certainly, that's a good idea. In fact I think I have some sort of exercise plan the Quack gave me on file somewhere...

[DWC]

Whampoa Data Haven, Hong Kong, 12:15

"Echo? What echo?" Vice reaches under the back of his shirt, hand closing around the grip of the Belgian made smartgun. After a few seconds of studying the ambient sounds, he relaxes.

"If you can't dig up with the doctors gave you, I've still got the rehab program they put me on after I got my muscle and joint work done. Should make a decent enough guideline."

[Glyph]

Viper, Seattle

Viper nods ruefully at Abe's statement, seemingly agreeing with him. She starts to reply to Weaver,

"Well, I..."

But then Weaver is present but absent, obviously scouring the Matrix for the other people whom they are supposed to find and work with. Instead, she turns back to Abe with a self-mocking smile.

"Well, I'm no good guy, how 'bout you? Although it seemed more like we're expected to save the world from the good guys and the bad guys. And that assumes the vision is legit. But what choice do we have, really? This Thing has tortured us every year, and now It threatens us with madness if we don't do as It says."

She frowns, angrily, as if she doesn't like what she has to say next.

"I think we might need to play Its game, at least for now. Maybe as we go along, we can find out what Its real goals are, or find a chance to break free of It. Best case, It's on the up-and-up, but still reaaally ruthless. Worst case, we get the pieces of this globe together and find out it's the worst thing we could have done. But we gotta play it out, one way or another."

She grins suddenly.

"At least it looks to be a helluva ride."