IC: Post or Die, Lifelines, and deadlines Options

[Martin_DeVries_I...]

12:02 AM "El Viajero" cabin, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

As Otto slumped and groaned and died in front of them, Heka saw something almost as awful as what the Professor had: the mescaline in his system chose that moment to flare, and in his hallucination he saw all the light fade from Otto until he was encased in a viscous black film, a liquid body bag. When his body sank to the floor, Heka thought he could still see the man's spirit, sitting in confusion at the table before it, too, began to turn black and then slowly dispersed, like ash on the wind.

The dwarf listened, with unfeigned interest, to Oswald's talk of serial killers, and even asks some follow-ups; but mostly it's just to keep his attention focused, to keep the visions at bay, to keep from seeing the grisly autopsy.

By the time the body has been left at sea and the boat returned to the harbor, Heka's had another two glasses of the scotch. By God, he's earned it; they all have, and if they aren't going to have their share than that means more for him. There was a chill inside that the drink just wasn't able to defeat.

"So, we have an agreement?" their host asks eventually.

"Yes," murmurs Heka as he verifies the cred deposit. "Work to be done, and all that." The evening had started exciting but the luster quickly faded, and his enthusiasm has bled away. He wanted to get home, get properly soused, and get higher than a weather balloon.

[Sephiroth]

3:01 A.M, Tacoma

Even with the accelerated thought processes brought on by HMHVV 1, Jovan took some time - about a minute - to consider the message and it's implications. While it was certainly a pleasant surprise to hear from perhaps the only person in the world whom he could trust, particularly after so long, Jovan was smart enough to see that the offer held some danger. This could be an elaborate setup by someone who want's me dead. What if they succeed? I cannot allow them to do so... No, it will not happen. I will not allow myself to die. I need more power... but I am still a vampire. I am a super-vampire; I am a nosferatu; I will outwait and outsmart those fools. Do they even know who I am?? Impossible. They cannot have information on me. Perhaps it is not a trap after all. Still, a bit of paranoia never hurt anyone. And more cred in my pocket will open up my options, let me find more resources. And with those resources, I can gather more power... yes, yes, YES! This will be most helpful!

Closing his Hamlet book, Jovan got to his feet and ascended the stairs excitedly. He saw no need to broadcast his superior nature to his employer and so would probably have to obtain some extra articles of clothing on his way to the job meeting -a hat and scarf were striking his fancy this evening, or perhaps a hood- but that would be simple enough to deal with.

<<I am in. Bring on the job.>>

[HugeC]

12:23 AM "El Viajero", cabin, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

Once commcodes have been exchanged, Thirty says, "I'll see what I can dig up on our target. If any of you would like some backup chasing down physical leads, please don't hesitate to call on me. Otherwise, I'll be in touch tomorrow night, or earlier if I find something."

With a curt nod, he adds, "Until next time," as a farewell to the group before disembarking from El Viajero. As he strides down the gangway, he puts his link back into hidden mode, and looks for the cowgirl to give her a mysterious half-smile before he heads home for the night.

[Saint Sithney]

12:24 AM "El Viajero", cabin, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma


As everyone started to stand up and shuffle about in that traditional "I gotta get out of here" dance, Oswald remembered that he needs to get his rental boat back to Everett.
"If anyone wants a ride up Everett way, I got a boat I still need to collect my deposit on. Gotta car too if ya need a ride from there. I ain't sleepin tonight anyway."

[pbangarth]

12:24 AM "El Viajero", cabin, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

Professor answers Oswald, "I've got to get a boat back as well. I'll come along with you to Everett anyway. If you are going by my hangout, sure, I'd love a ride. Then a good night's sleep, and we can all do some planning.

"Thirty, I'll do some digging on my own. I'll check in with you to compare notes. Heka, tomorrow I'd like to talk to you about magic spells. I can sustain spells on myself, and I'd like to figure out possibilities."

[Martin_DeVries_I...]

12:24 AM "El Viajero" cabin, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

Heka frowned as he thought about logistics and realized he didn't have a spirit available to take him back. He'd already used up the one he summoned earlier, and after this night... this fuckin' night... he just didn't have it in him to summon another.

"Actually, Oswald, if you don't mind I wouldn't mind a ride to Everett with you and... Danny. And you, Professor, and I can start doing some planning. May as well put our minds to use."

[Red-ROM]

3:02 A.M, Tacoma

Zayne had been waiting for the response. The reply was immediate,
<<Commcode 151-411@ghostserv . She is going by mrs Johnson. She has a group ready, but they are short one>>

[Red-ROM]

12:24 AM "El Viajero" cabin, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

The ship's jammer seems to be off at the moment, to ease communication. As the group begins to make their way off the yacht, The man in white and his female companion make their way down to the Triad members on the dock. They seem to be discussing payment. The cowgirl smiles at the Samurai as he passes, but receives a quick, but soft smack to the head from one of the guys with an assault rifle to refocus her attention. Mrs. Johnson sends a quick message to the group without looking away from the gangers
<<I will be in touch Later, After I settle in and try to find you some more manpower>>

[HugeC]

12:28 AM, parking lot, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

Thirty opens the driver's side door on his Comet and gets in, hitching up his coat again to account for the sword he's carrying. As he sits down, the gun in his waistband digs into his hip painfully, and he leans back and very carefully adjusts it, so as not to shoot himself. Using the neural connection to his commlink granted by his trode net, he orders the Comet to head back to his apartment, and it whirs to life and starts navigating its way there.

While his car takes him home, he wonders what would make a runner turn on an obviously wealthy and dangerous client like the one he's working for now. Maybe the guy has a conscience, and is worried about what Mr. J is gonna do with a bunch of guns and explosives. He has a chuckle at that thought. No, it's more likely something so valuable, the rigger thought it was worth the risk to steal it. Or maybe Ares put the screws to him. Guess we'll find out soon enough, he thinks. It occurs to him that Cyrus might know a guy in whatever gang it is that has turf in Redmond, and that guy might know something about this nightclub, Twisters, and its owner. He opens an AR window and types on his thighs to compose an email message to Cyrus. <<I owe you a drink. Maybe two, since I need another favor. You got time to get together tonight or tomorrow?>>

12:32 AM, streets of Tacoma

Midway home from the marina, Thirty's gun pinches him again, and he decides he needs to get that holster sooner rather than later. "Take me to the nearest Savers Central," he tells the car. After a moment's hesitation while it accesses the mapsoft on his commlink, the car pings an acknowledgment and slows down for a turn onto its new course. Thirty gingerly takes the pistol out of his waistband and leans over to put it into the glove compartment. Kanjin detaches easily from the inside of his coat, and he slips it underneath the passenger seat.

A few minutes later the Comet glides into a parking space, and Thirty gets out and walks up to the triple-double doors of Savers Central. Strangely, they do not open as he approaches. What the- oh, my link is in hidden mode, he thinks. He checks to be sure his Ben Forrest I.D. is loaded, and orders his Sensei into active mode. The doors immediately slide open, and he and heads inside to the sporting goods section.

The selection of firearm accessories is not great, but the Ares Predator IV is a popular model, and he finds an armpit holster that is sized for it, with straps he can adjust to fit his larger-than-human frame. He heads up to the U-Check counter and puts the holster into a waiting plastic bag. The U-Check beeps as it detects the RFID tag attached to the holster, and it's display shows the price as $297.99 UCAS, or 75 nuyen. Thirty puts his credstick into the slot, and selects the [Pay with Certified Nuyen] option on the touch screen. In AR, an attractive female clerk appears next to the U-Check machine and says, "Thankyou for shopping at Savers Central, Mr. Forrest! Have a pleasant evening!" She disappears in a whirl of blue sparkles just as suddenly as she arrived, and "Mr. Forrest" heads back out into the night.

[Sephiroth]

3:05 A.M., Tacoma

Oh. So it wasn't a job that he could take on alone. He had to put up with teammates, of all things. Teammates that probably wouldn't understand if they discovered what he was. Teammates that would likely attempt to kill him simply because he was one of the Infected. Wonderful. Still, he needed the cred and experience from this job. It would be something that he would have to work around.

Jovan checked the time on his comm. Just after 3:00. The night was progressing quickly, and he would have to be fast if he was to meet this Mrs. Johnson and return before sunrise.

After grabbing something to eat from the kitchen, Jovan returned to his room to ready himself, composing an email in the air to the number Zayne had sent as he walked. <<I hear that you are looking to fill a vacancy in your hired team. Suffice to say that I am interested. What relevant details and meeting arrangements can you tell me?>>

[Saint Sithney]

12:25 AM "El Viajero" deck, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

Oswald was starting to like this Heka fellow, despite his obvious racial deficiencies. "Can't really blame a fella for being short I guess." Even the Trog was okay for a no good untrustworthy pig-beast. "So long as he keeps his proper distance.." This was a workable situation. Lots of logistics and a bit of muscle to throw around. He still wasn't too sure about the boss. That bomb attack was desperate and he claims he's new in town. That means that this is a man who readily inspires desperate action... Or he's just a liar.

"What did you mean that no one else knew the design of H. H. Holmes' hotel? He couldn't possibly have killed all the workers.." Heka had asked. "Oh my, no." Oswald replied. "There was no real legal protection for workers then. In fact, the law was that, if you were unsatisfied with a person's labor, you could fire them within two weeks and not have to pay them a thing." Oswald shot a glance over towards the Spaniard. "So, Holmes would just manufacture some point of failing and send the work crew home empty-handed at the end of two weeks time. The failings were intentionally designed to make the place labyrinthine and inscrutable. So, thanks to this revolving door policy, no one knew the secret layout of the place, and Holmes never had to pay a cent for labor, only materials." Oswald quickly locked eyes with Heka, then turned his head slightly towards their recent employer. "You said your name's Heka, right? Like the Egyptian god of magic? Yeah.. yeah.. I did a Data Search a bit ago.." Oswald nodded a bit and smiled. "Egypt has a fascinating history. Some of their greatest architectural works were lost though, to a family tiff. See, one Pharaoh died while his only son was still in infancy. So, the man's wife took over the role. But, as you know, a Pharaoh is a god, a specific god, a male god, so the woman became a cross-dresser." This time, Oswald shot a glance across the room to their quiet team mate, whose "breasts" had been knocked slightly askance by the earlier explosion. "See, she couldn't be a Pharaoh and a woman, so she convinced the world that she was a man. She had the greatest architect and sculptor who had ever lived, well at that point in history at least, and she had him put up many sculptures of her, and even raise the first free-standing Obelisks ever, all to advertise her masculinity and her divinity. But, her son grew up and decided he wanted to play god a bit, and mommy was in the way. So, the cross-dressed god-king died, the statues were smashed and some of the best art the world had ever seen was lost." Oswald looked once again at Caper. "It's like they say. Time makes fools of us all."

Returning from recent memory, Oswald shook his head, as if to clear the last image from an etch-a-sketch.
He should stay rooted in current matters.
"Hmm. Well, if someone could help get Danny in the skiff, I've got to go let some gas out of the dirigible. The current mix is set to compensate for my added weight... Actually, I guess we could put Danny in there, but I don't know if I'd ever hear the end of it... Ah what the hell. What's the point of building a sassy robot if you don't give him any ammunition against you."

So, they loaded the robot into the Rigger Cocoon, Oswald tossed in the severed left arm of the late Lefty and turned to close it up.
"..mm-gotta-go-Riggs-mm.." the battered, little robot hummed.
"Yeah, Danny. I'll see you back at the base." Oswald replied as he shut the door and started to free the blimp from its moorings.
<Oswald@Sky-pod: Keep low and stay over the water as long as you can. You need to stay undetected. Go ahead and shadow our boats.>

He lowered himself into a waiting dingy, nodded to the Professor, clapped the intoxicated Heka on the back and said, "Let's go before the rest of us pay for someone else's mistakes."

[pbangarth]

12:25 AM "El Viajero" deck, Foss Harbor Marina, Tacoma

Professor jumps into his rented boat and calls back to Oswald, "Let's get as far from this death boat as we can. Can you drive these things as well as the blimp? I'll keep up with you if I can."

He revs the motor and proceeds to swerve and dip like a tyro until he finally gets it under control and heads off towards the rental dock.

[Red-ROM]

1:00 AM I-5

The man who called himself "Caper" had loaded into a Taxi and headed for home. His mind raced in all Directions. He had a few Ideas to check out, and some gear to acquire. He also pondered the fate of this runner who decided to keep the spoils of his heist. What kind of Karma might this guy have acquired? Would Caper share this guys fate?
What Caper was unaware of was the Big rig in front of the taxi was about to collide with an abandoned car left dead in the road. The car was dead and off the grid, no lights, no way to see it the dark. The tractor trailer Jack knifed, and the taxi disappeared under the trailers axles. In all of Caper's paranoia, he never imagined the end being so mundane.

3:20 AM, Tacoma
The Johnson sent Jovan a response<<Would a meeting in VR be acceptable? I could arrange something in person, but this would be more convenient>>

[HugeC]

1450 S. Yakima Avenue, Apartment 3B, Tacoma, 12:57 AM

Benichi closes and locks the door behind him as he arrives back at his apartment from the meet, having taken a somewhat circuitous route home from Savers Central to make sure he wasn't being followed. Even though he's still wired from the night's events, he resolves to go to bed, since tomorrow will be a work day. He puts Kanjin on its stand, stows his glasses and other weapons in the top drawer, and crosses the room again to hang his duster up in the closet. Another minute getting undressed and unfolding the bed, and he's lying there staring at the ceiling. He reviews the meet in his head; the cowgirl, the Johnson, the crazy old guy with the robot, and the other runners. It's going to be an exciting week, he thinks. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing, dispelling all but thoughts of rest from his mind.

[Red-ROM]

Friday 12:57 AM,1450 S. Yakima Avenue, Apartment 3B, Tacoma,

Just as Ben closes his eyes, the sound of his com tells him he has a message. Cyrus had taken his time to respond, but his text now waited in "Thirty's" inbox, weather the ork rose to check it tonight or not.
<<I could do tonight, or tomorrow. Just give me a buzz>>

1:30 AM, Seattle Marina

The trip back to Seattle for Oswald and his new teammates was a little bumpy, but far less eventful than the rest of the evening. Breaking news was broadcasting on the matrix about a huge car pile up on I-5. What stands out about the report is that a large amount of smoke and noxious gas seems to be spewing from a Taxi under a tractor trailer. The Firemen on scene believe that its some kind of tear gas or gas grenades that ruptured in the collision. They have called in a bomb squad in case of other weapons that may be present

[HugeC]

1450 S. Yakima Avenue, Apartment 3B, Tacoma, 12:58 AM

"Hot damn, didn't feel like sleeping anyway," Benichi says to himself as he checks his link. He composes a quick response: <<OMW, where to?>>

He doubts a ganger like Cyrus will want to meet anywhere upscale, so he gets dressed in his street clothes as before, including the new holster, into which he puts his Predator. As he weaves the trodes into his hair again, he wishes he could get a datajack for the convenience. He had found out many years earlier, while he was hospitalized after his goblinization, that his system was especially intolerant to cyberware, and that it might make him sick or kill him if he got even a few implants. The doctor had called it Aggressive Implant Rejection Syndrome, or AIRS, and though rare, it was common enough that the routine bloodwork they had done on him at that time had caught it. They should call it A Pain In The Ass, he thinks, but implants would wreck my mojo anyway, so I guess I'll have to live with trodes.

Armed with his pistol and taser, he looks at Kanjin on its stand, but decides to leave it there unless Cyrus wants to meet in a Z-zone. He goes to the closet and puts on his armor jacket, then flops down in the chair to await the reply from Cyrus as to his destination.

[Sephiroth]

3:21 A.M., Jovan's home, Tacoma

Well. This was an awkward situation. Jovan felt slightly relieved that he would not have to bother with hiding his condition from the Johnson if they met in VR. However, he did not possess the necessary equipment for a VR connection. He'd never really found VR necessary for his reclusive lifestyle - his books and AR had always been enough for him. By the look of things, it seemed that would have to change. He was already dressed in his incomplete Berwick suit and naga belt - which still left a bad taste in his mouth when wearing it, after owning it for two years - so he might as well go out anyway. How bothersome, he thought.

<<Of course, but I will need some time. Circumstances prevent me from meeting right now.>>

Jovan wasted no more time. Opening an AR window, he searched the Matrix for information on nearby stores carrying commlink accessories and other Matrix equipment. At the same time, he focused his mind on one of the many sets of hermetic formulae used to describe and summon elementals. He concentrated on the chosen formula and let his superior will and magical power ring out through astral space, all the way to the Metaplane of Consciousness, where a spirit minding its own business was instantly plucked from that metaplane and into the astral space of Jovan's home. The consciousness elemental couldn't have resisted his magical might if it tried.

Good evening, he thought to the spirit. I need you to stay here while I go out for a while. While I am away, you are to hide me from the notice of others, and you are to grant me the speed to run like wind. Do you understand?

[Red-ROM]

1450 S. Yakima Avenue, Apartment 3B, Tacoma, 12:58 AM

Cyrus replies, <<I can be at the E.O.E. club downtown in 20 minutes>>

3:21 A.M., Jovan's home, Tacoma

The ethereal homunculous bowed humbly to Jovan, quietly hoping that he had no need of the spirit beyond these two tasks.

[HugeC]

1450 S. Yakima Avenue, Tacoma, 12:58 AM

Benichi reads Cyrus' message, and looks up the club on his mapsoft. It's a bit of a hike, but the freeways will be empty this time of night, so he shouldn't hit traffic. He neurally transmits his reply: <<Soonest I can get there is about 40. If you get there before me, have a drink, I'll get the tab when I join you.>>

Downtown, eh? Better ditch the iron, he thinks, and he swaps out the Predator for his Yamaha Pulsar before locking up his apartment and heading out to the Comet. With no time to waste, he plots a route on his mapsoft that takes him on the I-5 north, past Renton, and on to the Downtown district. On the way, he looks up the address of Twisters, the nightclub that Mr. Johnson had mentioned, and files it away for future reference. As the car's autopilot dutifully handles the driving, he leans the seat back a bit and watches the blue-white highway lights march past outside.

End of the Earth Nightclub, Downtown Seattle, 1:37 AM
PAN Mode: Hidden, ID=Ben Forrest

Having found a spot to park not too far away, Benichi approaches the entrance to the club. He affects a casual strut, and gives the people at the door a friendly smile as he activates his commlink and pays the cover. Hopefully they don't spot the taser, but if they do, I'll have them hold it for me. No sense starting trouble, I won't be here too long, he thinks. I'll buy Cyrus a few drinks and see what he knows about the gangs of Redmond, specifically whose turf Twisters is in. Maybe he can put me in touch with someone there that knows the owner, or can at least get the team there in one piece so we can find him.

Once inside, he looks around for Cyrus, but keeps one eye open for anyone that might be watching him. It wasn't long ago he watched a man die, so he thinks it prudent to be cautious.

[Saint Sithney]

Oswald's Warehouse, Merrill Creek Pkwy. Everett, 2:15 am

Having successfully ingratiated himself with the anti-Ares rebel faction, and then driven a couple of them home.. Oswald sets to work speculating as to where to start looking for the supposed quarry. First I ought to check this guy's story. Treat it like a peer review. I'll start at the beginning and verify everything up until now. Consider everything suspect until you have verified it yourself.
And so, Ozzy dumped back into AR and went to work tearing through the sum of the world's knowledge until he was left with bite sized portions.
<<Monty - prepare a datafile with the following items:>>
1) The report of the stolen trucks being driven into the barrens, including the account of the Ares recovery team being beaten back by an air spirit. "This confirms the original heist."
2)The shadow chatter regarding Big Daddy Long Legs, uncharacteristically, going missing and all his recent shipments having ceased without warning. Include the fact that one "Viper12" is quite unhappy about this and is seeking his current whereabouts. "Looks like BDLL is either, dead, locked up, or has burned his bridges."
3) The old photograph of BDLL at union protest outside Ares building. Include message "The International Union of Operating Engineers probably has some info on an old crane operator. It's possible he might have friends still from those days who would hide him in time of trouble, or who might know where he'd go to hide out and who he might need to hide from. It's a potential source of info if we hit a dead end."

<<Send Encryption keys to the group Yacht Club as passive mail. Encrypt and then attach prepared datafile with this message: "This is every bit of net-accessible information regarding the cargo and BDLL. Keep me informed of your progress, and let me know if you need my support." >>
Naturally, Oswald could have prepared the data file himself, but what good is an Agent if you don't use him for more than security?

Next on the docket was getting some gear.
First Ozzy checked to see if any electronics or security stores had an MCT flyspy in stock. Strangely enough, no one did. At least according to their Matrix sites. So Oswald put an order in to Kennedy's Cheap electronics for a new one once they got a shipment in. Kennedy's seemed just the right amount of shady to deliver legal goods in an under the table way.
Then Oswald radioed Mission Control with an urgent request for specialized mission gear. <<I need you to send an Ultrawideband Radar scanner through the dimensional warp from Earth Prime. I'll take whatever you can dig up quickly, but I would additionally like a top-flight model, whenever you can process the paperwork.>> He wired money to the AI to acquire and route a Rating 2 and Rating 4 UWB radar system to his warehouse.
Finally, he pinged Ol' Softy to see if he was awake at this hour. Chances were pretty likely.
<<Heya Softy! Soooofty! I know you're still up, you cosmic wastrel! Are you too deep in code to do a bit of business? I need to sample some software. Nothing too heavy. Just need your best consumer level Clearsight Autosoft that'll run on an MCT Flyspy with UWB, and the best Vehicle Identification Sensor Software that'll also run on a stock Flyspy. 1200¥ sound alright?>>

With that business out of the way, Oswald jacked out of VR and spent a few moments staring at the ceiling from his recliner. He needed to fix Danny. Then he had to put his captain's chair back in the Rover. Just the thought of all this work made him ache all over.
While he was sitting there, staring off into space a strange little poem popped into his head..
"While fishing in the blue lagoon
I caught a lovely silver fish,
And he spoke to me, "My boy," quoth he,
"Please set me free and I'll grant your wish...
A kingdom of wisdom? A palace of gold?
Or all the goodies your fancies can hold?"
So I said, "OK," and I threw him free,
And he swam away and he laughed at me
Whispering my foolish wish
Into a silent sea."

"Danny!" Oswald called out. "Do you know anything about a poem called "The Silver Fish"?
The robot replied distantly, "..mm-it's-not-a-fish-Leo-it's-a-shark-mm..."

[Sephiroth]

3:21 A.M., Jovan's home, Tacoma

Jovan grabbed his lined coat and turned to leave. His search had found a Saver's Central 2.7 kilometers northeast of his home. As he walked in a magically-enhanced blur of motion down the stairs to the door, he realized that this would be an excellent opportunity for his enemies, if they existed, to ambush and kill him. Perhaps it would be better to bring along some backup, just to be cautious. Spirit, he thought to the elemental, I have reconsidered. You are still to perform the tasks I have given you, but I wish you to accompany me instead of remaining here. Come.

He opened the door and stepped outside into the crisp night air, his eyes scanning the street and houses for anyone that might be watching him. He wanted to remain as unseen as possible on this little excursion tonight.

[Red-ROM]

End of the Earth Nightclub, Downtown Seattle, 1:38 AM

The bouncers at the door are big, but they seem soft and slow. The club relies more on its location and Lonestar patrols for anything above crowd control. The jowly skinhead at the door scowls at the orc, "You got your commlink on chummer? I need some ID."
Once he checks the SIN, he waves Ben in without so much as a pat down. The E.O.E is a franchise club for wageslaves. Cyrus liked to come here for non gang related biz because nobody from his neck of the woods hung out here. He was waiting for "Thirty" at the bar. The club had a post-apocalypse look to it, If somehow the end of the world was ridiculously clean. The music was mechanical and dark, until someone requested some C-pop, and drunkin secretaries ran out onto the dance floor, and the mood was lost.
As "Thirty" got to the bar Cyrus stood up to greet him,"I got us a back room so we can talk in private" They made their way out of a bad remake of an old shieldwall song, and into a small room down the hall. The room seemed to be part of the resaurant portion of the club that probably shut down a few hours ago. they sat at a booth and Cyrus ordered another drink on his comm,"Anything for you, omae?"

[pbangarth]

02:00 Professor's pad, Seattle


Professor flopped into his 'thinking couch' with a hot chai, a drink for which he developed a taste during his days in India. Oswald would easily do the Matrix search for B.D.L.L., no point in going over that ground. Was there something he himself could do to add to the search? If someone were trying to duck our employer and Ares, what things would he do? "Aha!"

<<@Logo: Big guy, I got 500 nuyen for you if you can find out any new ID someone by the handle of Big Daddy Long Legs has tried to get in the last week. I have another 500 for you if you can come up with a recent location for him, too. Urgent, time is short.>>

Could be expensive, but Logo needs his palms greased every once in a while. This much grease might get Professor a little higher on the contact list.

He sipped his tea, relaxing into the couch.

[HugeC]

End of the Earth Nightclub, Downtown Seattle, 1:39 AM

Thirty waves his free hand dismissively as he pulls out his commlink and says, "Drinks are on me tonight, C. That tip you gave me earlier worked out, and I want to say thanks. Plus I'm hoping you might know something else I'm interested in. Let's talk after they bring the refreshments." He orders a glass of light beer, and when the waitstaff arrives, Thirty gestures across the table to Cyrus and says authoritatively, "Credit this man's account and charge mine for all his expenses tonight, please."

Once they have chewed the fat for a few, Thirty gets down to biz. He leans over and puts his elbows on the table, and in a low voice he says, "I need to do some work over in Redmond. There's this club there called Twisters, and I need to know what I'm walking into before I go. I figure if there's a gang over there with clout, you might know the right guy to talk to. Or better yet, know anything about that club?" he asks.

[Red-ROM]

End of the Earth Nightclub, Downtown Seattle, 1:45 AM, Friday, September 11, 2071

Cyrus shakes his head with a chuckle,"That is not a pretty neighborhood chummer, hangin there'll make yer hair fall out. Twisters is all right if you wanna get really blitzed outa yer mind. the floors and walls are warped. You feel drunk just walkin in. The crowd is on some heavy shit. Asia, Vertigo, Novacoke. Its a place for people to get high in the flesh. No chipheads or wizkid shit. The Rusted Stilettos claim that turf, if any of 'em are sober enough to know where they are. Smoothies are in the minority, So you'll blend in a bit, but your look is a little "normal" for the scene. Unless you get a lot of used and ridiculous looking cyber before you go. I don't know the owner, but I hear he fronts for some runners in the Barrens. Just rumors though, nothin concrete "


02:30AM, Professor's pad, Seattle

It was some time before Logo got back to Professor on his inquiry<<I love to take your money, but you got some hard questions. I haven't found anything on this "Big Daddy" guy getting a new ID. Funny enough though,I do have a fella here that came up in my surfing. he's looking for a new SIN, and his access ID is the same one used for some of "Big daddy long legs" business transactions.He didn't give a name, but I traced him to an old coffin motel in glow city. Maybe that's him, but I doubt it. Anyway, just send me whatever you think thats worth>>