Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 8th-14th Options

[Bastard]

1738 Monday 08 January 2063 - Cooper's Firearms, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

After seeking other methods, Marquis finally decides that a bottle of acid etch will have to do the trick. It is usually used more "constructively" but the payment for the job will more than cover a new bottle. He empties the contents of the can into the shop sink, letting the ring hitt the surface. Probably not hurting them any, but it isnt like he is trying to keep them in good shape. He refills the can with the acid etch, placing the rings in carefully this time, but just not to splash himself. He hides the can under the sink, not from anyone in particular, just out of sight.

Before exiting the shop, Marq checks his clothes, not wanting to bring any unwanted chemicals in contact with his Caddi. Finding nothing he grabs his punked out leather jacket, checks his twin gold Guardians, and heads for the door. The heavy metal locks behind him, as he steps into the alley.

A few minutes later, the Cadillac rumbles out of the back alley and into another. Cutting in and out of backroads and sidestreets, the car returns to the garage where it started the day. The alarm twirps to let the owner know that it is armed, before he enters the residence.

[bclements]

00:35:30 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

"Sure Zeyda, I'm interested. What kind of bodyguarding would a decker need anyway?"

[grendel]

00:36:04 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Zeyda chuckles drily.

"Ordinarily, it's just watching their meat bod while they do something dangerous in the matrix. This one's a little different, though, apparently he needs to make a trip into the Barrens. Didn't say why, just that he needed protection, wheels, and a GPS unit if available. 1000 :nuyen: for the whole deal. If you're interested, I'll set-up a lunch meeting between the two of you tomorrow here at the Landing."

[Slipshade]

09:14:31 Monday 08 January 2063 – Redmond - Touristville - The Respite Soup Kitchen - Main Dining Hall

Giving a sigh of relief and a rueful shake of his head, Max pushes open the door to The Respite. The haze of astral space is lessened here in the interior of the soup kitchen. It is a place that these people can come to for hot food and a little shelter away from the deadly streets. The edge of fear and desperation while still present is dulled by the escape The Respite provides. The kitchen staff moves to and fro across the room, darting in and out of the kitchen proper. The number of SINless has steadily grown over the past few months Max has volunteered, but the staff has not. Even with the added pressure the volunteers at The Respite somehow manage to plaster a smile across their faces and plod on. Maybe it is because they know they are doing some good or maybe it is because they are just happy that their situation isn’t quite as bad as those they help, Max didn’t know, but what ever the reason they put on a good face for those less fortunate.

Max’s presence at the door garners some attention. The regulars have become used to his appearance, but there are a number of new faces that murmur and cringe at the sight of Max’s stone-like complexion. He ignores the stares and smiles at some of the more familiar faces in the crowd.

“Hey Trancer.” Max says to a youth of no more than 12 years. “How’s your mom?”

“Oi, Professor. Better, thanks fur askin. Two months sobber” The young kid with a mat of ratty brown hair replies with a grin. “Thanks for getting her into the clinic.”

Trancer's mother had become addicted to BTL when Max had met the young boy at the soup kitchen. Max had taken a liking to the young boy. He was one of the rare ones that the barrens hadn’t worn down yet. Precocious as most young boys are, he was kind of a pet project for Max, who didn’t want to see Trancer's sharp mind go to waste. Seeing the predicament the child was in, Max footed the bill to get his mother into a good rehab clinic.

“Are you still studying, like I told you too?” He inquires.

“Yah.” He boys tone sounds dejected “It’s been the only problem with mom being sober. “She won’t let me outta the apartment until I finish with those lessons you gave her.”

Max smiles. “Good. I’ll have her let me know when you finish them and I will get her some more.”

“Ah, man don’t do that”

“I’ll try to make them more interesting for you this time, but you still have to do them.” Max had given Trancer’s mom a number of lesson plans to help her and Trancer get an education. They were SINless, but Max had promised to get Trancer into a real school if he applied himself. By the looks of it Trancer’s mom was going to make sure he did.

‘Good, the kid has a sharp mind and maybe, just maybe a bit of magical talent is him.’ Trancer’s aura was always very vibrant, more so than most children his age.

“Mom’s in the kitchen helping out if you want to go see her.” Trancer replied trying to move the discussion away from studying.

“I will. Is Keira in there too?” Had not seen the young elven woman since he had entered the building.

“Think so,” Trancer answered. “So you gonna to ask her out yet?”

Max shot the boy a sour look. “Your to smart for your own good, kid.”

“Natch, Chummer.”

[bclements]

00:36:31 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

"Sign me up. Lunch at the Landing, say noon? Only one problem: if this is a rush job for him, I'm not going to be able to do it tomorrow night. I can remedy that by not charging him, in return for my job."

[grendel]

00:36:53 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

"Noon, then. I think it's a little bit of a rush, but I got the impression that he wasn't going to wait around until sundown to go. Those particulars you can discuss better with him, though. I'll catch you later."

[grendel]

17:52:37 Monday 08 January 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes finds it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything, with the noise from downstairs filtering up to the bar, the constant bumps and brushes as people move past him, and the ever-present haze of smoke and alcohol. Even Aria's smoky angelic voice does nothing to relax the knots of tension drawn tight across his shoulders.

Finally, Zeyda's meeting finishes, and the fixer motions across the bar to Eyes.

"Hey, thanks for waiting. How're things holding up?"

"Fine. What's up?" Eyes doesn't mean to sound rude, but he is distinctly uncomfortable here in such a large social setting.

"I've got a dedicated information request here. Did you read about the shooting that happened yesterday? That ex-Ren Raku programmer? I've got a friend who wants to know the real story behind the killing. It's a 2k bonus and 200 :nuyen: per day to run down everything you can about who, what, when, where, and most importantly, why. Interested?"

[grendel]

06:14:11 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Apartment 875, Parkewood Village Apartments, Tacoma

The machine crawls down the endless corridor, dragging its broken and useless legs behind it. Its progress is slow and torturous, the muscles in its arms quivering with effort. The floor is slick with blood and mucous, effluvium from the thousand slaughtered bodies that litter the hall. Hands, hooked by rigor mortis into inhuman claws, scraped at the machine as it moved past. Behind it, clearly audible, were the mechanical sounds of butchery: armored torsos mounting servo-motor driven reverse-articulated legs , serrated claws of flashing surgical steel ripping with the power of myomer muscles, (meta)humans drowning in their own blood, gurgling their last breath through exposed throats and lungs. The machine paused in exhaustion, shaking the sweat from its eyes and seeing its reflection in the bloody floor.

Todd screamed, lunging out of bed to stand in the chill air of his apartment for a moment before collapsing to the floor. Slowly, too slowly, the remains of the nightmare faded, and he made his way into the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on his face, he stared at the dark circles beneath his eyes. Sleep was easy, but peacefulness continued to elude him. The message light on his trid drew his attention, and he powered up the display.

[The_Eyes]

17:54:08 Monday 08 January 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

James pondered a moment. Not really mulling over whether or not to take the job--getting paid to run a search? Hell, he might've done it for free if he had the time!--but pulling together what little information he already had on the subject.

"Ex-programmer... I think I saw an article on that," James pondered aloud, his mind automatically supplying some of the details despite the distraction of the world around him, "A... Dr. Casimir, right? Sure, I'd be happy to take a look. I suppose the client wants to generate as little background noise as possible for this? And what's the timetable? 'Everything you can' could take up to a week if you really want everything; how long does the client want to wait?"

Casimir... you know, I think I have a couple of his search algorithms implemented on Jane, James mused, Now there's a fun coincidence; Casimir's algorithms tracking down Casimir's killer. Someone's Karma at work.

[Ecclesiastes]

06:15:02 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Apartment 875, Parkewood Village Apartments, Tacoma

The message swung Todd's mood for the better. Sweet. Noon kick-off time even gives me a few hours to get in some programming time. The young skater settled into his favorite decking spot and logged in. He quickly shot off a message to the fixer and nanoseconds later ones and zeros were running through his head as he further reprogrammed his brain to the sythetic world.

[grendel]

17:54:27 Monday 08 January 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Yeah, that's the one all right. The client didn't mention anything about a time table, I'm assuming results are what count although there may be a bonus for speed. Why don't you do a day's worth of looking, see what you can find, and I'll set up a meet with the client for noon on Wednesday. You can present what you have and see what they say about further avenues of investigation. Sound good?"

Zeyda jots down a note in his pocket secretary, glancing up to gauge Eyes reaction.

[The_Eyes]

17:54:41 Monday 08 January 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Noon Wednesday, sounds good to me. Same place, I'm guessing??" With a thought, James marks down the job details on the psec still plugged into his neck. He glances at his drink, decides he didn't really want most of it anyway, and gets ready to leave. Nuts, looks like I'll be able to make the appointment with Ran after all, he thought amusedly.

"Oh, right, and I'm assuming low profile on the search, yes?"

[grendel]

17:54:57 Monday 08 January 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Right on both accounts." Zeyda nods.

[bclements]

00:37:53 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS
Great, glad to actually be watching a living person. And I'll need my guns for this, maybe. Better to have and not need... Tony thinks to himself as he walks up to his apartment. Hitting the thumbprint ID pad on the door, he walks into his flat and grabs the spare keys to the Americar he has in the bedroom. I'll still need Sam to pick me up tomorrow night. And miles to go before I sleep.. Tony thinks as he walks back out into the frigid night, on his way back to the airport.

01:41:41 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – , Seattle, UCAS
After an uneventful, but cold trip back to the airport to collect his guns and why did did the airport people have to put the short-term parking lot so far away from the long-term garage?, [/b]Tony[/b] settles into his apartment with a cup of coffee. Time to ask a few questions, then off to bed, as he settles into his computer for some research

[The_Eyes]

17:55:03 Monday 08 January 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"Scans well for me. See you in a couple days then." James exchanged any necessary civilities with Zeyda and left as quickly as reasonably possible, the furitive cast on his mind only leaving when he gets out of the restaurant below and onto his own bike. On the drive back, he realized that he should have asked some more about who was hiring his for the search, considering possible motives for the use of the information and such, but in the end a job was a job, and this one seemed fairly harmless.


18:45:22 Monday 08 January 2063 - - Unit 303, Winlock Apartment Complex, Tacoma, Seattle, UCAS
James opened his door and stepped inside, dancing his way around the various computer paraphernalia stacked, heaped, and otherwise scattered around the small apartment as if it were all a basic extension of his body. In a way, it kinda was. It was home; it was a personal sanctuary; it was a place where you can let your guard down, just a little. It was a place with a frowning girl in a black, perfectly fashionable raver costume tapping her foot impatiently with her eyes fixed on the trid.

Carmen didn't even look up. "Cheh. Men, always making you wait. You're not even dressed yet."

James smirked. "A little early, are we Ran? Thought we agreed on 7? Give me a second and I'll get ready. Not like anyone cares what I look like anyway; all the eyes are gonna be on you." Having a seat in his programming chair, James quickly hookes himself up to the home computer.

"Jane?" James calls out quietly.

"You called?" a teasingly sultry voice whispered in his ear. James 'turns around' to see Jane leaning over hiw shoulder, grinning like she'd just played a great joke. "See? I can sound like jailbait too," she continued in her normal 'voice', "Does that mean you like me better now?"

James rolled his eyes. "We have work, Jane," he said patiently, ignoring the verbal jab, "We can discuss your sarcasm module later." He fills Jane in on the details of the job, filling in a few blanks from the article snippet he had saved locally, "For now I want you to do two quick searches, public records only, and keeping a low profile. First, I want any quick info you can find on Dr. Terence Casimir and his history, in particular his work history and any recent changes to credit rating or credit history. Second, I want any quick info you can find on Dr. Casimir's death: major news reports, press releases, blog postings, things you might think are relevant. Spend a few hours on each one and link the results to my home terminal here. You have all that?"

Jane hesitated for a moment. "I..."

James considered a moment, then 'translated' the instructions into a pair of long query strings in HoloLISP. After preusing those Jane nodded in acceptance. "I'll take care of it; you have fun on your date," she said, and disappeared in a small shimmer of displaced electrons.

James blinked. It wasn't a date, was it? Shaking his head, he jacked out...

...and was immediately greeted by Carmen's wide grin, inches away from his face. "Ack!" James recoiled in surprise, tipping his chair over and tumbling backwards onto the floor, scattering wires and optical chips everywhere.

"Sorry, had to do it," Carmen said, her grin widening like a shark's. "Now c'mon; I altered your clothes a bit so they don't make you look like some 50's tortise."

James gingerly got to his feet. Definately not a date, he thought to himself.

[Ecclesiastes]

11:15:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Apartment 875, Parkewood Village Apartments, Tacoma

The red dot appearing in the corner of his vision broke Todd's meditation. Wow, time flies when your having fun... or running an infiniate number of complex algorithms through your head, either way works I guess.

Pulling out a virtual cell phone, Todd makes a quick phone call. "Hey Louie, its Todd. Can you arrange for a taxi to pick me up out front in 15 minutes? You're the best."

Jacking out, the kid grabs his backpack and tosses in a few essentials. Microtronics Kit. Check. Portable Sat-Uplink. Check. Munchies. Check. Portable Nuke. Damn... Todd opens the door and feels a little better to see the blood has been cleaned up. Crash, I sure hope you aren't leading me to a death trap.

Flopping his skateboard down onto the hallway, Todd skates down to catch an elevator down to the taxi.

[WinterRat1]

09:15:48 Monday 08 January 2063 – Redmond - Touristville - The Respite Soup Kitchen - Main Dining Hall

Heading to the back, Max easily spots the attractive elf busily moving about the kitchen, always ready to pitch in where help is needed, whether with a kind word, a helping hand, or just a smile.

The world would definitely be a better place if there were more people like Keira out there Max thinks to himself.

Spotting him, Keira smiles and waves, and walks on over, grabbing a towel on the way to clean her hands. "Hey Max! What's going on?" she says, wiping the rest of the water off her hands as she comes to a stop in front of him.

"Not much," he answers, looking around before continuing, "is everything ok? Nothing wrong here, right?"

Keira cocks her head slightly to the side and raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Other than the usual being understaffed and undersupplied, yes," she answers with a smile before realizing that he's serious.

"What is it, is something wrong?" she asks in a lower tone of voice, not wanting to disturb him.

"No, everything's fine, I was just..." *Cha-chack! Cha-chack!* Cha-chack? What the hell is cha-cha....oh drek!

Moments after his still enhanced senses pick up the unfamiliar sound of safeties being released and rounds chambered from outside the Soup Kitchen's main entrance, Max realizes he has about three seconds, literally, before things get very ugly, very quick.

[Slipshade]

09:15:51 Monday 08 January 2063 – Redmond - Touristville - The Respite Soup Kitchen - Main Dining Hall

DREK!!!

"EVERYONE DOWN! NOW!" Max yells into the dining hall as he grabs Keira and dives beneath one of the fold up, particle board dining tables.

“What are you…Ooph!” Keira grunts as Max lands on top of her. Her question is cut-off by the sounds of The Respite’s front doors being kicked open.

Max could only hope that the rest of The Respite’s occupants knew enough to stay down. Giving a quick request to Gargoyle for aid Max frantically begins weaving a spell.

[grendel]

19:22:41 Monday 08 January 2063 - Bluefish, Tacoma, Seattle, UCAS

Actually a converted warehouse, Bluefish sat in a rundown section of the Tacoma docks district. Three years ago it was a popular location for underground raves, parties that would last until the portable generators ran themselves out of gas. That was until Lone Star busted in one Saturday night on a tip about novacoke dealing going on in the back room. In the ensuing panic, fourteen people died, mostly teenagers, trampled to death as the crowd stampeded for the nearest exit. Initially the Star's PR machine spun the incident as the result of the 'raver' culture and the drugs and violence inherent to it. But a couple of intrepid INN reporters managed to uncover and publish the truth about the events that night. Apart from the bad press, the other result from that exclusive was the purchase of the warehouse by Chris Mixon and John Mendoza. Mixon's sister and Mendoza's younger brother were both killed in the accident. They wanted to set-up a club that would cater to the raver's needs, but at the same time provide a safe location. The result is Bluefish.

From the outside, the construction plastic walls remain unchanged, and the only indication that it's a hotspot for the nightlife is the neon blue holograph of a swordfish over the door. Inside, the ground floor is all ages, with a handful of water stations against the walls. The bands play on a raised circular stage surrounded by chainlink fencing. Four speaker piles around the stage keep the music at an ear-shattering level. The second floor, built from industrial grade steel grating, is 21 and up, with a full bar and its own section of dance floor. Several large stairways allow access to the second floor, but each is staffed by half a dozen bouncers checking IDs.

Eyes pulled up into the parking lot next to the club, setting the bike on its stand as Ran hopped off the back. She pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair, using the reflection of the streetlight in the mirrored faceplate to check herself. Eyes undid his own helmet, scanning up and down the street. A steady stream of people filtered towards the club, voices rising above the pulsing techno beat of the DJ working the crowd before the band came on. Across the street from the club were two Lone Star cruisers and one of their riot control drone carriers. The Peacekeeper drones were actually deployed, a phalanx ten across and three deep of black and white armor. Eyes knew the cops were there by request, to keep the lid on if anyone tried to crash the party or start something viciously illegal. They tended to turn a blind eye to lesser infractions, like drunk and disorderly, public intoxication, public nudity, disturbing the peace, and whatnot. Ran had mentioned she'd been to two raves already that required police action to break-up when things got out of hand. Eyes hoped tonight was not one of those nights.

"Ran!" The shout came from a pack of about a dozen kids standing next to the entrance. A boy, no older than eleven, waved to them as they stood by the bike. Even at this distance it was easy to see that he wore one of the digital LCD shirts favored by the younger ravers. Currently, the display was a retro image of vertically cascading backwards numbers and Japanese kanji. Fiber optic cables, their clear plastic sheaths lit by blue LEDs, snaked up his back and were plugged in to the datajacks implanted on either temple. Eyes knew they ran to a beltpack that controlled the shirt's display, as well as being a short range wireless transmitter. Anyone similarly equipped could interface and trade pictures, or data, or, if allowed, change the image on his shirt.

"Zee!" Ran waved back, turning to Eyes. "C'mon!"

Together, they joined up with Ran's tribe. Eyes was struck once again by the aptness of the name. It wasn't a gang, or a clique, or a group of friends. It was a tribe, with all the rigid, unspoken tribal rules of interaction. He caught several furtive glares from the older boys, and knew they resented the interest that Ran showed in him. Knew, also, that his position in the power structure of the tribe was precarious at best. Any respect he was accorded was because of Ran's stamp of approval.

The tribe filed through the doorway, everyone but Eyes receiving a handstamp identifying them as under 21. The ink was a 24 hour polymer that would break down slowly under the influence of the body's chemistry, but flouresced beneath UV light. It helped make the bouncer's job easier. Eyes immediately shied to the far wall, seeking one of the fenced off sitting areas close to the water stations in order to distance himself from the crowd gathered. Ran glanced his direction once, an eyebrow lifted in question. He shook his head and reassured her with a gesture. She nodded, disappearing into the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor. Eyes breathed a sigh of relief. He would never have made it in that crowd.

The DJ was still spinning, the band wouldn't be on for another hour at least. Speed Coma was an elven band, two men and two women. Their music, although influenced by over a dozen different styles, was, in a word, hard. It appealed to a broad cross section of the alternatives: hardcore, grindcore, goth, industrial, techno, electric, fetish. They leaned certain directions on different albums, their latest being a return to their roots as an industrial band. Personally, Eyes preferred their album of two years ago, which was an almost hypnotic mix of techno-electronica. It was good to program to. He had to admit, though, that there was something powerful about the music. And not only because the bass made his teeth jump inside his skull. It was infused with an anger, a rage much more elemental than the usual juvenile angst and defiance. This was a predatory fury that screamed at the world, dared it to intervene.

Red laserlight licked across the dancefloor, briefly highlighting Ran as she threw her hair back in a purple/black cascade. Eyes smiled. A voice at his shoulder said:

"She's a little young for you, isn't she?"

The speaker smiled at him to take any insult out of her question, leaning against the railing in a relaxed manner. She wore her hair in tight cornrows halfway back on her head, after which it spilled free in alternating pleats of gold and crimson. A black latex half-jacket over a crimson corset, a short skirt of black silk, and knee-high latex boots completed her outfit. Around her neck was a medallion: a silver sunburst that caught the laserlight and shone like a heart of fire in the dimness of the club.

[WinterRat1]

09:15:54 Monday 08 January 2063 – Redmond - Touristville - The Respite Soup Kitchen - Main Dining Hall

Gathering the mana, Max can feel Gargoyle's power flowing through him, aiding his efforts. He tenses, ready to unleash the magic on the first unlucky chump to walk through the front door. The doors fly open, Max unleashes the spell on what appear to be a pair of men wearing black suits and what look like...gas masks. Both men immediately begin staggering in confusion and actually crash into each other coming through the door.

The effect would be almost comical if it wasn't for what drew Max's complete attention. Flying through the opened doors past the staggering men to approximately the center of the room are two roughly cylindrical containers. The moment they hit the floor, gas begins rising quickly from the containers, filling the room...

[grendel]

18:45:38 Monday 08 January 2063 - Seattle LTG

Jane shifted through the electronic pathways of the matrix, her search algorithms spread out before her like a dozen reference books. She'd already completed her search on the initial information requested. Now she was trolling the backwaters of the Seattle grid, poking into places where the still surface of the dark waters concealed the deep, swift running currents beneath.

She doesn't want to spend too much time here, as she's already felt as if something was pacing her, stalking her through the labyrinth of data and constructs. A flicker of light from the narrow alleyway between two hosts catches her eye, and she ghosts in for a closer look. The icon revealed is skinned like James Dean, right down to the steel toe caps on his cowboy boots.

"Well you're a handsome devil, what's your name?" Jane smiles at the icon, who offers her a cigarette in return.

"Just call me Revenant. I work for a group of people who are interested in making sure that information remains free." He glances meaningfully at the slim white cylinder in her hand, and she nods, tucking it away for future evaluation. A noise at the end of the alleyway draws their attention.

"You'd better go," hisses Revenant, and as Jane watches the icon that steps from the shadows, she couldn't agree more. It moves with catlike grace on a pair of reverese articulated legs, its skin a shifting quicksilver armor. Each of its six-fingered paws is armed with wickedly curved claws, and its forearms are edged with serrated blades. Revenant steps forward, his hands starting to glow, as the creature opens its mouth and snarls. Acid drips from gleaming metallic fangs, steaming in the virtual air. The last thing Jane sees before the vistas of the matrix dissolve are the two icons leaping at one another, weapons screaming for blood.

With a sigh, she set the files requested by Eyes on her desk, the first pile being his primary query, and the second, the results of the other search.

[ Spoiler ]

Name: Casimir, Terrence David
Age: 54
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasian
Height: 177 cm
Weight: 74 kg
Date of Birth: Aug 14th, 2009
SIN: 5T2G-8U6V-TC09
State of Residence: Seattle, UCAS
Address: 5004 Mariner’s Island Blvd #8
Employment History:
Employment Status: retired/self-employed
Previous Employer: Hypersense Systems Incorporated
Length of Employment: May 25th, 2041- November 24th, 2060
Reason for Termination: End of employee contract
Financial History:
Credit History: Generalization: Good
Loans/debts outstanding: None
Education History:
Roosevelt High School, 2023-2026
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, 2026-2029, BS: Computer Science, Summa Cum Laude
Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Thaumaturgey, 2029-2031, MS: Computer Science focusing on neural net programming
Ren Raku Corporate College, 2031-2038, PhD: Artificial Cognitive Systems Programming, PhD: Computer Science focusing on Quantum Computing
Publications:
Synthesizing Intelligence: neural net design and programming, Macmillan, 2034
Quantum Computing, Macmillan 2039
Machine Mind: Go and the game of Intelligence, McGraw-Hill, 2047
Gods of the Children: Investigating Resonance, Oxford University Press, 2058
Family History:
Father: Albrecht Edward Casimir 1961-2041
Mother: Mary Louise Casimir nee Johnson 1964-2043
Sister: Hannah Elizabeth Casimir 2011-2059
Married: October 2nd, 2031: Rachel Emma Miroff
Daughter: Jennifer Louise Casimir, March 27th, 2037
Divorced: April 11th, 2038, mother awarded sole custody of daughter
DMV History: UCAS standard operators license issued Aug 20th, 2025
No outstanding tickets
No traffic violations listed within the past five years
Legal History:
No warrants issued within the past ten years
No delinquencies listed in childcare payments
Medical History:
Insurance categorization: moderate-risk
Cause: 45% genetic predisposition to dysrhythmia leading to congestive heart failure, 68% likelihood of developing Type II diabetes after age 50
Medical Provider: Doc Wagon Seattle
Medical Profile: Implants: datajack, encephalon, Math SPU, display link

[ Spoiler ]

Memo
From: Ren Raku Pathology Services
To: Operations RR7007
Via: Human Resources RR4004/4005
Subj: Autopsy Results ICO Terrence David Casimir

1. Supervising Physician: Dr. Stilianos Jackson
2. Autopsy Location: Ren Raku Corporate Medical Facilities, Downtown, Seattle
3. Identification: Body, male, age fifty four years, approximately 175 cm tall, identified by fingerprints, dental comparison, DNA typing.

Findings:
1. Time of death between midnight and 0800 Sunday 07 January 2063.
2. Large puncture wound to left rear torso between fourth and fifth ribs. Wound cavity traverses torso left to right, exhibiting large permanent cavity and significant hydrostatic damage to all internal organs. Large exit wound on right front torso destroying fifth and sixth true ribs, along with the false and floating rib. Death was nearly instantaneous due to trauma from the wound.
3. Forensic evaluation of the scene indicates the projectile was fired through an external structural wall at a slight downward angle.
4. Pieces of the projectile recovered at the scene suggest a tungsten cored penetrator of at least 12mm diameter.
5. After examination, body returned to NOK for disposal.

[bclements]

02:00:47 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Well, maybe that will turn something up by the morning Tony thought to himself as he jumped in the shower for a quick rinse off. 5 minutes later, warm, dry, and tired from the day, he hits the bed, being sure to keep a gun under the pillow.

11:15:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace , Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Dressed in some securetech clothing, showed, shaved, caffeinated, and newsed up with absoultly nothing in the Journal this morning, except for some details on the Transys-Erika joint venture Tony checks his weapons. Everything looks ready to go. Leaving behind some of the ammo, whetting his sword, and making sure that everything was loaded with real rounds, Tony repacks the items in his duffel bag. Walking down to his car in the clear, but still freezing and windy weather, Tony slings the bag into the trunk, gets in the car, and starts off toward the Landing

[grendel]

11:48:15 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Todd flashes a smile to the waitress behind the maitre d' stand as he climbs the stairs to the bar. She blinks in some surprise, but then most of the waitstaff knows better than to question visitors who are clearly there for business.

Over the conversations of the lunch crowd, Todd can hear the light notes of D.B. on the piano. The blind ork hunched against the baby grand, a wistful look on his face while his fingers danced with surprising delicacy over the faded ivory keys.

Sitting with Zeyda at his booth was an athletic looking human male, dressed in well-kept but generic securetech clothing. The fixer motioned him to a seat.

"Hey, kid. This is Tony. Tony, this is Todd."

[The_Eyes]

19:51:20 Monday 08 January 2063 - Bluefish, Tacoma, Seattle, UCAS

Eyes sighed at once again being casually ostracized by Carmen's tribe. He hadn't really expected for any of the others to treat him like one of their own, but he'd hoped for at least a lack of open suspicion and distrust after being around this long. There just seemed to be a natural impasse between him and their group. It could be age, philosophy, genetic, but then all of that would apply to Ran too, wouldn't it? Eyes smiled; in many ways the Otaku's ability to interact directly with the Matrix was the least interesting thing about them.

"She's a little young for you, isn't she?"

Broken out of his developing tunnel-vision (and thankful for the distraction), Eyes glances at the speaker, a hand reflexively adjusting his glasses. Wow, wish I had put more thought into my own outfit, Eyes reflects, lingering for a second on the medallion, maybe I ought to go, ugh, shopping next time. "Heh, jury's still out on that one," Eyes replied, with a smile of his own, "Most of that group seems to be thinking I'm the young and immature one. Nice necklace, by the way."

[bclements]

11:49:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Raising up slightly in his seat, Tony holds out his hand to the kid standing in front of him. "Nice to meet you. Care for anything to eat?" I would say "or drink", but this kid looks barely old enough to buy soycola, much less get a real drink, Tony thought to himself.