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

[grendel]

13:08:55 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

The white card is not a datachip, but rather a simple calling card. Printed on one side in flowing script is a name: Xade. On the reverse is an LTG number. Danny flips the card over in his hand thoughtfully a number of times, running his fingers across it. After a moment he frowns, and carefully slides his fingers across the card. A slow smile spreads across his face.

"Clever girl. Kid, fetch me that oscilloscope from the bench, and the scanner."

Remy ducks out of the office to scoop up the requested equipment as Danny yells after him, "and the amp!"

Dropping the pile of electronics onto the desktop, Remy stands back, uncertain as to what exactly his uncle has planned. Danny wires up the scope and the scanner, setting the one to graphically display the output of the other. Plugging in the amp, he runs it to the input side of the scanner. Bringing on the power to all three, Danny runs the signal strength up to mid-level before slowly twisting the frequency dial. He watches the oscilloscope carefully as the lines dance in syncopation. When the dial breaks 2.4 GHz, a spike appears on the scope. Danny nods to himself and keeps turning the dial. The spike remains present until the frequency exceeds 5.0 GHz. Smiling, he shuts down the gear. Rummaging through a box beneath the counter, he pulls out an irregular cluster of dark metallic discs that seem glued together. With a bit of effort he pries one loose before setting it on the calling card. Remy raises an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"The card has an RFID tag in it," explains Danny. "It's designed to echo the wireless frequencies for any of the mesh network devices. You know, the new wireless stuff that Novatech is putting out? I'll bet it's a location broadcaster. Assuming a network of sufficient size and strength you could track someone just about anywhere they went with one of these. Nice piece of gear."

"But what are we going to do?" pushes Remy. His uncle frowns again. Taking a piece of cellophane tape, he secures the magnet to the card.

"That should keep the electronics fuzzed. But you're right, this matter needs a bit more attention. I want you to take this card down to this address: 4029 Marshall Street. Ask for JW. He'll be able to tell us more about this."

[grendel]

12:07:16, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Ristorante Machiavelli, 3010 Western Ave, Seattle

Sergio addresses the easy question first, flipping another file to Josyln's commlink. This is a pretty standard security face shot, showing a young man with a hard face and swarthy skin. A full head of hair doesn't do much to offset bullish cheekbones and a jutting chin. The eyes are dark and intense, filled with the angry passion of youth.

"He wasn't off-loading anything. He was working acquisition. It wasn't family business but it was lucrative. I was contacted through one of my smugglers, said he'd just dropped off a team that was new in town and had asked after places to get untraceable electronics. He thought I might be able to help so we arranged a meeting between my guy and this team. Things seemed to be going well. Then he turns up dead. I don't know if it's due to this team, or if he poked his nose into someone's business too hard, or if he went digging for a good deal that was a bit too good. This is another reason why I need you to do the investigating. My guys won't be impartial about it, they won't accept that it might have been Romano's own fault that got him iced."

[Mach_Ten]

13:58:55 Monday, 08 January 2063 - along Marshall Avenue, Auburn, Seattle

Remy's Mind oscillates through the miniscule amount of information he has.

Looking down at the card he holds gingerly in his hand he wonders what could be so important to Xade that She would invest in using such a new technology.
And on someone as simple as Me or Danny. He turns the sliver of plastic over, scrutinising each detail, careful not to dislodge the magnet attached to it.
Paranoid that any undue action may invoke the arrival of the entire Seattle Star at his doorstep, he pockets the device in his vest zipper pocket and retrieves his armored long coat and helmet from the rack

Dressing quickly, he imagines the possibilities, wonder what this stuff is actually worth?
"...And don't even think about it! straight to JW Kid" comes the yell from the other room that Remy was actually expecting this time,
his Uncle knowing him too well to allow him to maybe go and see one of his crew on the way to Auburn.

With an awkward glance back at his workbench he ponders taking the sword but realises it is far too obvious in the cold Seattle daylight, instead
slipping into the front business area he fishes under the counter for the Savalette Guardian, loaded with Gel rounds, the takes it hastily, stuffing it into the coat pocket, the hand-grip cool but reassuring to the touch. He looks over his shoulder at his Uncle, busy again on the phone and satisfied he hasn't been seen he steps confidently towards the door, closing the counter behind him.

The incessant noise of the buzzer is abruptly cut off, not wanting Danny to come out of the office and possibly notice the missing weapon, Remy closes the door properly and steps onto the sidewalk, looking at the pathfinder now completely dusted in flecks of white and almost invisible against the grey backdrop of the rest of the street.

"Drek, this is gonna be cold!" he mutters, warm breath clouding around his face then obliterated by a sudden gust of freezing air.
Jaw already shivering he pulls the coat tighter and puts on the heavy gloves and helmet before cleaning off the worst of the snow.
Straddling the bike he thumbs the starter, the ignition whirrrs and wheezes then catches again, bursting into life with a cloud of snow and smoke after the exhaust. He pulls out into the traffic.

It still amazes Remy as he negotiates the streets of Bellevue, the towers of several corporations clearly visible at this range, that his Uncles shop falls within the confines of this district, Being on the Redmond side means it's a little more low maintenance than most parts but how on earth he sustains it without any visible regular business just makes the young Orks head spin. He twists the accelerator, risking it possibly a little more than he should but revels in the regularly cleared streets and the gritters that pass almost hourly to keep this place bustling.

Crossing over into Renton and again into Auburn is the usual trauma of congestion and police activity, the tolls are for once open but the vigilance levels still border on the invasive with mini drones and scanners and Star almost omnipresent, and then the road opens up and the snow returns as the different districts don't apply the same level of funding to street care, he slows his pace not wanting to hit any black ice and giggles at the joke he heard last week from his mate Glimmer, "Have you heard the one about the Decker who slipped on his own IC" ... guess you had to be there, he reminds himself to not bother repeating the pun.

Crossing into Auburn the engine noise of his bike barely masks the subsonic hum of the industrial zone, the snow clings to the side of the roads in oily dirty lumps discarded from passing massive trucks, Remy consults the GPS on his comm for the correct address and heads on into Auburn.

[DeliciousD]

12:10:11, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Ristorante Machiavelli, 3010 Western Ave, Seattle

Joslyn looked at the picture as Sergio talked.

Kid looks tough, got to remember to play this one carefully...either they took him by surprise or whoever got him was tougher.

Joslyn's food arrived in short order and he started to eat in silence, a look of concentration on his face as he ate half-heartedly, he had barely finished half of his small serving when he placed down his cutlery and looked up at Sergio.

"I've had a few thoughts," he said, taking his small glass of rum in his hand, the dark liquid sloshing dangerously close to spillage as he gestured "I can't promise anything but I'll let you know what I turn up."

"There's no need to rush off my friend," Sergio said "Sit, eat."

Joslyn shook his head

"I should go," he replied "I find I can't stay still for long these days."

Sergio laughed

"Could you ever?"

"I suppose not," Joslyn replied with a grin "But my joints used to have more to say about it." he drank the rum, savouring the warmth in his mouth and throat, hoping it would prove some protection from the cold outside. He stood briskly and held out a hand, Sergio took it with a grip that would have surprised a stranger with it's strength.

"Next time we meet, perhaps we shall have more pleasant things to speak of." the Italian said, his words positive but the tone seemed doubtful.

"I look forward to it." Joslyn replied, picking up his longcoat and giving the Soldatos a nod before heading for the exit, his mind racing.

Pulling his coat around him, Joslyn stepped out into the icy wind and instantly regretted leaving the warm restaurant. He hurried across the lot to his waiting car. Seeing it's sleek lines broken by small piles of snow, took a moment to brush the piles off.

"Some day I'll take you back home," he muttered to the car "We'd both do better in the sun."

After a meagre attempt at clearing the snow, Joslyn had had enough. He hopped into the car and cranked the heat again, rubbing his hands together for warmth as he considered his options.

Five pawn shops to check. I could take the scenic route back to the office, see if any of them look overly secured.

As his hands warmed up, he checked his commlink and plotted each of the shops into the car's dashboard. Then he pointed the commlink camera at himself and took several pictures, trying to match the expression in Romano's picture. Photos taken, he dialled Andy's number

"Still in one piece?" Andy answered after several rings.

"I think I lost a toe to frostbite." Joslyn replied "Nothing too serious."

"What did they want?"

"It was Sergio," Joslyn told him, slightly disappointed that Andy had skipped straight to business "One of his boys got hit and he doesn't know why."

"We're Detectives now?"

"Just worried citizens looking for their missing friend, hold on a second." Joslyn fiddled with the commlink for a moment and sent Andy the photos of himself and Romano along with the list of Pawn Shops "That's me and my good friend Romano, can you stick us both in the same photo, at a bar or something? Anything you can give me on the shops would be useful too...he was looking for untraceable electronics, you must know a few good places for that stuff right?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, I'll bring you back some lunch."

With the call over, Joslyn plotted a route to each of the Pawn shops and pulled out of the parking lot.

[grendel]

14:13:03 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

Standing outside the rundown, three story brick building, Remy checks the address again. Frowning, he glances up and down the street. The faded numbers stenciled to the side of the door match the hastily scrawled note given to him by Danny. But the building appears deserted, an anonymous skeleton amidst an urban graveyard here on the edges of Auburn. Little traffic fills the street, mostly the odd delivery and cargo trucks out making their rounds. Snow remains piled high on the curbs and sidewalks, and no other pedestrian is visible amidst the cold gray light and harsh wind. Shrugging to himself, Remy wades across the sidewalk to the narrow entrance foyer and tries the door. To his surprise, it opens on silent hinges.

The interior of the building appears pitch black initially, and its only after Remy's eyes adapt from the brightness outside that he can make out the pale illumination provided by numerous flat panel and CRT displays. The dust in the air smears the broadcast light into pastel hues, more a hint of light than anything actual. The resultant shadows cluster around racks of undefined equipment and floor to ceiling shelves overflowing with technological detritus, circuits and ports glinting in the half-light, the sinuous coils of cables droop carelessly from plastic bins like adders hanging in the jungle foliage. Indistinct voices mutter in conversation from somewhere within the labyrinthine room.

"Hello?" calls Remy, taking a few careful steps deeper into the maze in front of him. "Anyone home?"

The voices continue their muttering unabated and Remy grimaces with frustration. He can see quite clearly now, though, his eyes having adapted well to the low-light. He's still careful to watch his steps as he works his way towards the voices. After a minute, he emerges into a large workspace in the middle of the room. Three long tables mark out a square with the fourth side left open. Electronics in various states of (dis)repair lie open on the tables, intertwined with diagnostic machinery and power supplies. A tail of ozone tickles the back of his throat, and he resists the urge to sneeze. Overhead hang a dozen large display screens, four of them tuned to different trideo channels, while the rest are text readouts of RSS feeds or matrix chatrooms or clusters of UMS iconography or more fanciful sculpted systems. Three of the screens have their volume up loud enough to be heard, and are the source of the muttering voices.

"Great," grumbles Remy, wondering just what to do next. His answer is provided by the arrival of a short, stout figure, featureless within baggy coveralls, its face obscured by a pair of illuminated magnifying goggles. The figure carries the dissected remains of a small drone, the plastic casing open to reveal a body cavity unkempt with damaged circuit boards. At first, Remy thinks he's been overlooked, until the figure speaks.

"Well don't just stand there looking lost, tell me what brings you out in this winter weather?" The voice is distinctly male, and older than Remy anticipated, a gravelly tone tinged with amused curiosity.

[grendel]

13:37:26, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Respawn Secondhand Electronics, 1100 Montclair Blvd Suite D, Renton, Seattle

The first two shops on the list turn out to be busts. Not only did no one there remember the young mafia soldato, neither shop had a particularly large selection of used electronics. Joslyn figures that those two facts must be related. He sat warming himself in the car, parked across the street from Respawn. He appreciated the clever twist on the name, although it didn't look like it had brought the business much success. The storefront was narrow, occupying the end of a rundown strip mall that had more vacant stores than occupants.

Andy had done a decent job of manipulating the picture Joslyn had forwarded him, picking a smoky poolhall as the background. It fit given the tough-guy images each of the faces was trying to project. He pulled it up on the flatscreen of his commlink, prepping his lie for whomever was behind the counter.

Turning up the collar on his coat, Joslyn stepped out into the cold, hurrying across the parking lot and into the cramped interior of the store. As the chime announcing his arrival died, he took a glance around. In the front, half a dozen new and refurbished computers were displayed on skeletal art deco stands that are at least a decade out of style. Various accessories hang from brackets on the walls: power sources and cables for a variety of different machines, external drives, OMC and OCC burners, graphics cards, and displays.

Two men are behind the counter that divides the store in half, engaged in what appears to be a heated game of 3CHO R3CO1L. They both look up at Joslyn before the taller one pauses the game.

"'Sup, chummer? Wicked day to be out shopping for gear. What can we help you with?"

[Mach_Ten]

14:15:19 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

"Looking for a guy ... umm... Jay-Dubbya .. I gots a delivery for him"
Remy does his best to look disinterested and glances absent mindedly around at the mass of electronics and cables and screens that seem to cover every possible surface. and drip down the walls in a cascade of wires and fibre optics.
In reality though, this place is as attractive to him as some of the most expensive and exclusive museums that he frequents, both legally and illicitly.
There is something inherently beautiful about a well designed and functional workspace that despite all the spares and detritus shines through to him as a technophile.

"is'sat a legit 2057 model 8 doberman ?" He asks pointing to a shell of a drone lying in pieces in a corner, most of it's innards missing or snaking out onto the floor like multicoloured intestines torn from their circuit printed organs.
Without waiting for an answer, he moves slowly around the room, making sure not to touch or move anything and keeping the newcomer within peripheral vision as he examines other relics of pre-crash electronic warfare. "And dat's a Renraku Kraftwerk-8 and .. and a Fairlight Excalibur ... dems was s'posed to be impossible to get hold of back in tha day .. sheesh" He blows a low whistle under his breath and tries to take in all the gear here.

A short impatient cough from the middle of the room drags him away from his reverie, arms crossed over his chest "delivery?" he spits out the word almost apologetically.
"oh's yeah soz, Danny sent me wiv sumthin' for JW, is he here? says only he'd know what to do wiv it!"

Standing next to the central hub of the equipment where the light is best, his hand moves to the zipper pocket and withdraws the card gently and holds the magnet out for examination.
Around them the screen displays flicker and waver with interference just from the tiny device, the sounds on the trideo screens crackle and sputter
A flash of terror crosses the other mans face as if Remy was drawing a weapon, his hands go up in front of him in alarm
"oooh noo, put it away .. put it away!.. aaaawwww nooo!" the guy cries and Remy hurries to comply, with a look of sheer panic. That done the displays and other equipment return to their normal state and the sound becomes clearer.

"awww heck it's fried the ... no, that's okay ... but aww not the ... yep that's cool .... right, fine . good!" he mutters as he races round the gear checking for any undue damage, squinting into crevices and circuits and pulling apart swathes of wires.

Remy stands stock still with his hands in his pants pockets, the weight of the forgotten pistol in his jacket bounces against the back of his hand, he looks up suddenly feeling very stupid for bringing it to a friend of his Uncles, he feels guilty and as if there's a huge neon sign over his head pointing at the weapon.

[DeliciousD]

13:39:02, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Respawn Secondhand Electronics, 1100 Montclair Blvd Suite D, Renton, Seattle

Joslyn hurried the short distance from the door to the counter.

“Hoi chummers,” he replied as he reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his commlink, a worried expression on his face “I hope you can help me out.”

“Sure,” the tall one replied “What’re you lookin’ for?”

He loaded up the doctored photo on his commlink and showed it to the men, keeping a close eye on their expressions.

“My friend’s gone missing,” he told them in a concerned voice “He said he was coming here to pick something up yesterday and he never came back, he’s not picking up our calls and his kids are worried sick.” He took a deep breath, clearly shaken “Do you know if he made it here? I’m trying to retrace his steps.”

[grendel]

14:23:52 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

Before JW can say anything more, a bulky shadow that Remy initially mistook as another pile of electronics in a state of (dis)repair turns smoothly towards the slight human. A pair of eyes glow to life with a pale blue internal lambency, shockingly bright in the otherwise cavern-like dimness of the shop. The figure emits a grinding click, as of a drive digesting a particularly sizable piece of data. It sounds vaguely reproachful to Remy's ears, and certainly seems to have that effect on JW. Reaching up, he removes the bulky goggles, revealing a face of contrasts. His skin is pale and unblemished, but seamed with wrinkles around the eyes and the corners of his mouth. His blonde hair is hacked short, clearly self-cut, and three days' stubble fuzz his cheeks. For all that, though, there is a quick and discerning look in his eyes, the sharpness of a honed and practiced intellect. A wry smile twists his lips.

"You're right, Eight, where are my manners?" Setting the goggles down, he turns back towards Remy. "My apologies, young Rembrandt. It is, Rembrandt, isn't it? Danny has spoken of you often. Clearly this must be important if he has sent his young protoge. Let me see what you've brought."

Hesitantly, Remy fishes the card out from his pocket again and, after a moment, hands it over to JW. The slight man turns it over in his hand, fingers running across it. After a second, he retrieves his goggles from the workbench and slips them over his eyes again. A swath of LEDs illuminate across the headband, casting a brilliant cone of shadowless white light onto the card.

"Hmm, interesting," mutters JW, turning to the workbench. Idly he clears a spot to work by shoving other projects out of the way carelessly. Bits and pieces of electronics tumble to the floor. Remy sidles closer, curiosity getting the better of him. Using a pair of long handled grippers, JW peels the magnet off the card before placing it on to a thick lexan block.

Eight emits another series of electronic noises, like a drive hunting back and forth across its sectors. Remy looks over at him (it?) only to find the space where he (it?) was standing is empty. With a start, Remy realizes that he (it?) has moved silently across the workshop, and now stands at the opposite end of the workbench.

"Don't worry, my friend," JW admonishes, although he's not talking to Remy. "The network is closed down, and I have enough EMI in the air to confuse something this small. But let's take a look, shall we, and see what our friend Xade has cooked up."

He pronounces the name with the soft Oriental 'X', Shade. Remy looks back to see that JW has mounted the card into a set of remote clips, holding it long edge on to him. Taking a thin X-acto blade, he makes a careful incision along the length of the card. With another set of micro-manipulators, he carefully teases the cut open, reaching inside the card and slowly withdrawing a small, paper-thin square of black plastic.

"Well hello there, you handsome devil." JW slowly examines the chip beneath the owlish gaze of his magnifying goggles. Remy can see the light gleam from a metallic tracery on the chip, but nothing to divine its purpose or capabilities. Other than what his uncle showed him, of course. The silence stretches until Remy can't stand it any more.

"What, uh, what is it?"

JW smiles, obvious pleasure in his tone as he examines the device.

"This is emergent tech, something that the corps just started putting out. It's an RFID chip keyed to interface with the mesh network protocols that Novatech is putting out. When it's in range of a wireless node, it uses the broadcast power to ping the node with its location. That ping is picked up by another program resident in the mesh network. What is it? A very sophisticated, almost undetectable tracking device."

Eight murmurs, his (its?) voice now the spin of an optical disk drive. JW nods.

"I agree, my friend, but it doesn't belong to me." He turns to Remy, once more pushing his goggles up on his forehead. "So, my young friend, what shall we do with it?"

[grendel]

13:42:18, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Respawn Secondhand Electronics, 1100 Montclair Blvd Suite D, Renton, Seattle

"Aw, man, that's bad news." The man behind the counter, identified as Jake by the embroidery on his polo, leans over to look at Joslyn's commlink. He frowns in concentration.

"Hey, Dean, c'mere!"

A voice replies from the back where the other individual sits in front of the flat panel display. "There is no Dean, only LORD THANEFURL, HIGH INQUISITOR, SCOURGE OF THE OPEN LANDS!"

Jake shoots an apologetic glance towards Joslyn. "Uh, excuse me. I'll be right back."

There's a brief scuffle, a few slaps, and then a tortured cry as the computer's power is rudely interrupted. Moments later, Jake, accompanied by a ruffled and disgruntled Dean, return.

"Now, take a look and tell me if this guy matches the one who came in the other day!" instructs Jake. Dean glares at him before snatching up the commlink to look at the picture. His face transforms into one of confused recognition.

"Yeah, he was in here the other day. We didn't have what he was looking for, though, so he left after maybe ten minutes."

[Mach_Ten]

14:28:52 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

KILL IT ! KILL IT WIV' FIRE .. are the first words that spring to mind for Remy, but then he figures that would be a missed opportunity, if only one to get another look at the pretty lady and maybe try and be a bit cooler this time around.

"I ... Ummm, is it possible to follow da ..umm .. da ping? but not get tracked back here cause I finks dat would be bad!" he asks, still trying to keep an eye on the sneaky form that accompanies JW around the place.
He scratches his head while pondering the situation, not actually knowing what he wants to get from this Shade person or how it applies to him and Danny.
"I wants to find out who she is and who she works for ya know, wivout just callings her up!" he explains the situation to JW, from the sudden appearance of this character, asking questions about five unknown guys, to his Uncle sending him on this trip out of town.
"A Girl you say!" JW exclaims with a knowing wink and a smile at Remy, "Now you're talkin'... you happen to have a copy of that image young fella?"

Remy pats his pockets as if checking for a physical copy of the photo, absently, his hand once more brushes the lump of the pistol under the leather and he jerks his hand away "Nopes!" he cries holding one hand with the other as if it was burnt "Hey, you have a SimSynth wiv a datajack though ? I gots a good look at it and my SimRig maybe has good resolution look... what ya fink?"
Excited that he might have gotten something useful he looks expectantly at JW then remembering that he spent a long time examining other things while Xade was in the shop, he contemplates retracting his statement, but for the other thought, Frag it! I atleast gets to see her again anyways.

"and if it goes worng we can always stick the tracker onna cat in the barrens and watch da lady chasing it rounds!" He laughs.

[DeliciousD]

13:45:54, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Respawn Secondhand Electronics, 1100 Montclair Blvd Suite D, Renton, Seattle

Joslyn nods, faking a look of faint relief

"Did he mention where he was going to look next?" he asks Dean "And was he with anyone? I think his commlink's off..." he trails off and and angry expression flashes across his face "Drek! If he's left his kids to go drinking with those Orks again..." he trails off and looks back to the shopkeepers with a forced grin "Sorry fellas, it's been a long day."

[grendel]

14:31:17 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

"I'm afraid neither one of those courses of action will help us," says JW with a shake of his head. Eight concurs with a series of electronic burrs.

"The RFID chip only functions reliably in areas covered by the mesh network, which right now is only parts of Downtown and Bellvue. And the ping is most likely routing to an anonymous dropbox that Xade can access from anywhere on the Matrix. We'd have to sit on the host and try and catch her checking in. And hope she doesn't see us waiting for her. No, she's a smart girl, this Xade. Operator smart. With access to cutting edge tech."

JW drops the RFID chip onto the same block of lexan holding the rare earth magnet, tapping the end of his manipulators on the workbench thoughtfully. Eight shifts to the side, a deliberate motion that prompts JW to action. The slight human glances at his larger companion before rummaging through the drawers mounted beneath the shelves on the workbench. Finding what he was looking for, he uncoils a meter long length of cable. At one end is a standard optical data plug. At the other is a flat circular piece of plastic similar to the horn of a stethoscope. Plugging the one end into the tower at the end of the workbench, he turns to Remy.

"Of course. Let me see what you have, young Rembrandt."

Remy obediently turns to the side, waiting while JW slides the induction plate over the skin at the base of his skull, searching for the optimum output location. The LEDs on the back of the plate glow amber, then green as he locates the spot. The computer gurgles to itself as it copies the sense recordings from Remy's implanted simrig. Immediately one of the display screens clears, going to a passive gray before rezzing in with the visual component of the recording. The recording jerks ahead spastically, the time stamp in the upper left corner spinning forward in five minute increments. Remy frowns, then blinks in surprise when he realizes that it's Eight who's manipulating the data.

It takes only a minute for them to arrive at the correct moment, and Remy is absurdly grateful that no audio component is being included. He tries to keep the flush from his face as he remembers his clumsy interaction with the beautiful woman now pictured on the screen. The image that Eight has settled on is from very early in the conversation, when she first threw back her hood to reveal her face. Remy distinctly remembers staring for a few seconds, and that steady gaze has rewarded all three of them with an excellent shot of Xade. After a moment, though, Eight digitally highlights the woman's taller companion, throwing up a sidebar of data. Remy squints, trying to make out the meaning behind the series of abbreviations and serial numbers.

"Are you sure?" asks JW, concern in his voice and tension in his frame. Eight nods silently, the only time that Remy can remember him (it?) making a physical gesture.

"Well, well, well. The plot thickens."

"What?" asks Remy, craning his head to get a better look.

"It seems your lady friend runs with interesting company. Eight believes that the man behind her is Noland. A mercenary runner with a lethal reputation. Highly capable. And highly modified. He worked with Eight a year, no two years ago, right?"

Eight grumbles an affirmative. JW nods absently. He turns to Remy, coiling the cable of the induction jack he'd used and placing it on the workbench. Rubbing his hands together, he finally fixes the young ork with a straight gaze.

"My advice, young Rembrandt? Go home to your uncle. Give him my regards. Forget about this woman, her business card, and everything else you've learned here today. If you walk any further down this path, I'm afraid there will be no turning back."

[grendel]

13:46:42, Monday, 08 January 2063 - Respawn Secondhand Electronics, 1100 Montclair Blvd Suite D, Renton, Seattle

"Naw, he didn't say," replies Dean. "He was looking for odd stuff, though, couldn't help him. I suggested one of the swap meets down in Redmond. None of the stores I know are gonna stock old liquid cooling units anymore. Those things are way obsolete."

Jake nods in agreement, passing the commlink back to Joslyn with a look of apology.

"Sorry we couldn't be of anymore help, friend. I hope you find your friend and he's ok."

[Mach_Ten]

14:32:17 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

This cannot be the end of it! Remy's head spins in confusion now as he tries to come to terms with the fact that this is beyond his reach.
"Ummm Fanks JW, and yous Eight!" He looks at them both glumly with his hands dangling loosely by his sides and he looks once again like a lost child rather than a mature (for an Ork) adult,
who has had his toys removed for being naughty. "so you's don't know the guys in dat photo she had either then ?" he enquires,
chancing his luck at another loose thread before abandoning all hope.
urging Eight to fast forward the still replaying SimSense on the holo in front of them. and taking the opportunity to palm the contact card without chip, and deposit it in his pocket.

[DeliciousD]

13:47:01 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Respawn Secondhand Electronics, 1100 Montclair Blvd Suite D, Renton, Seattle

Joslyn shakes his head

"Well thanks a lot guys, at least I know he came this way...sorry to interrupt your game."

Looking dejected, he takes back his commlink and heads back to his car, struggling to type a message as the bitter wind whips his coat into a frenzy of motion.

Hey Andy, add an old liquid cooling system to our guy's shopping list, any idea what he'd need that for?

Joslyn Warms himself in the car for a moment as he considers what he's learned.

Untraceable electronics that need special cooling? Sounds like someone had a fun project in the works.

Starting up the Spiral, he heads to the next pawn shop on the list.

[grendel]

14:33:42 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

In response to Remy's query, Eight spools ahead on the recorded memory until the image steadies on the holographic pictures of the five men. JW squints at the screen, his brow furrowed.

"No, none of them look particularly familiar. Eight?"

JW's companion replies with a buzzing negative. JW turns back to Remy.

"Sorry, my young friend."

He gestures to Eight, who drops the feed from the display, returning it to its previous UMS iconography. The slim human pulls off his goggles, dropping them onto the workbench and running a tired hand through his thinning hair. After a moment he favors Remy with a smile.

"Some days you feel the years, others you feel the years and the kilometers. Anyway, what would you like me to do with that chip?"

[grendel]

14:10:53 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

Although in the same section of Seattle, it takes Joslyn a frustrating twenty five minutes to find the next pawn shop. Mostly due to the weather, the snowy streets having caused an accident that snarled traffic on the quickest route to the store. By the time his nav system had him rerouted on surface streets the better part of half an hour had elapsed.

Finally he pulled into the parking lot behind the store, pausing with the motor running in the sports car to check his commlink. Andy had replied to his message while he was driving.

Liquid cooling? No one uses those systems anymore. They're not worth the pain, optical circuitry runs so much cooler than the old silicon based stuff.

Which answered Joslyn's question, without saying much at all. With a sigh, he killed the Ford's motor, once more pulling his coat tight around him to ward off the wind. Heading across the parking lot he was hit with a particularly vicious blast of wind and snow, though, and he pauses to glance skyward. It seemed the weather was getting a little worse.

A series of metal bells jangle discordantly as Joslyn steps inside the shop, letting the door close behind him. The store is larger than the previous, but much drearier. Glass display cases line both walls, displaying a haphazard assortment of valuables sold for quick cash, never to be reclaimed. Musical instruments hang from racks high on the walls, while a brace of power tools cluster in the corner. The whole shop gives off an aura of desperation and abandoned dreams.

In back, behind the counter, sits an overweight middle-aged man. He doesn't look up as Joslyn enters, his attention solely focused on the glossy magazine of hardcore pornography lying open on the counter.

[Mach_Ten]

14:37:12 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 4029 Marshall Street, Auburn, Seattle

"Fanks again JW, is okay, Uncah Danny keeps telling me I shuddn't go looking for excitement, cuz it finds me enuff!" Remy smiles with a gleam in his eye at the other persons in the room.
He begins the process of dressing for the weather outside and strapping the helmet back on.
"Ummm, I dun' s'pose dat fing has a corp logo or serial number onnit ?" He asks off-handedly.. then continues without waiting for the answer
" ... I finks I'll take it ..and the magnet wiv' me .. mebbe my boys can has some fun makin' Noland run rounds chasin shadows wiv it!"

Now waiting for JW to respond before dropping his visor over his face and stepping out of the electronics wonderland and back into the harsh reality of Seattle winter streets to head back to the shop.
He can't quite grasp the image of Danny, JW, Eight and this Noland guy all being connected somehow, but doesn't want to push his luck after they have been so helpful and welcoming to him.

[DeliciousD]

14:14:15 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

'Frag, what a dump' Joslyn thinks to himself as he glances over the shop 'Different approach for this guy I think.'

Joslyn pulls out his commlink and loads up the mugshot of Romano that Sergio had given him, then strides across to the counter with a purpose. Determination and a hint of anger on his face.

"Hoi chummer!" he puts a hand down hard on the counter, shocking the shopkeep into paying attention "I've been told a man came in here yesterday looking for some weird stuff, old electronics and the like."

He holds out the picture for the overweight man to see

"Man owes me money. A lot. You know anything useful and he's worth some cred to you too."

[grendel]

15:04:47 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Almost two hours after he left, Remy finds himself back in the back room of his uncle's pawnshop. The ride back from JW's place had taken only half the time, it being easier to find his way somewhere familiar during the snowbound conditions rather than someplace as new and remote as the strange electronic cave that JW and Eight lived in. The whole episode seemed strange and surreal, and if it weren't for the pale white calling card that he turned over in his hand, Remy might believe the whole thing was a hallucination.

The RFID chip sat high on the shelf over his workbench, still attached to its magnet, out of the way and neutralized as far as Remy knew. It, too, held a certain amount of fascination, a high-tech talisman left behind by the enigmatic woman Xade and her companion Noland, the quiet ork which caused JW and Eight such consternation. Remy twisted idly back and forth in his seat, his fingers flipping the card over and over, his mind crunching on the days events.

After a few minutes, though, he puffs out a long sigh and sets the card aside. There would be time enough to wonder about the uniqueness of the day, after he finished reassembling the VCR.

[grendel]

14:16:23 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

The shop keeper glances up angrily at the interruption, piggish eyes staring out from a greasy, unshaven face.

"No need to shout, chummer, I heard ya come in."

He glances briefly at the picture displayed on Joslyn's commlink before looking back up.

"How much cred is it worth to you?"

[DeliciousD]

14:17:20 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

"You saw him then?" Joslyn asks, leaning closer "If you got any video of the guy I'll take it for 200 cred, if not, you tell me what he came in for, what time and who he was with and I'll throw 100 your way."

He lets the man consider the offer for a moment before continuing "It's a good deal for a few minutes of your time, what's it to be chummer? I've got places to be."

[grendel]

14:18:13 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

The shop keeper picks his porn glossy back up.

"Can't say for anything less than four hundred, chummer."

[Mach_Ten]

15:14:07 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

"Awww Frag it! oww ...hows in tha frag did 'dey build dese fings so badly... aaahh hah dere ! Dat's got it ! ... No, Owww!"
The ancient Vehicle Control Rig has more than a few Gremlins on board and they constantly fight Remy at every step of the repair, occasionally biting too.

Trodes that have had an application of some kind of pre nano-paste Super-Glue that nearly rips skin from flesh, components that were soldered onto circuit boards with industrial sized welds and some extra sharp nails thrown in to the mix for good measure and capacitors that hold an annoyingly painful amount of charge despite being drained and left to discharge for hours.
"Owww, Frag it some more !... is that blood ? .. Fraggit now I's bleedin all ovva da shop"

The cries of pain from minor injuries and muttered curses distract Danny from his business on the opposite side of the room but he keeps his head down and continues with a wry smile.
He knows Remy is actually enjoying himself and that the afternoon will fly by, despite the chore of having to deliver the goods to Mrs. Akira when he leaves this evening. Danny awards himself another hidden smile, satisfied he has left Remy in good hands when he is not around to watch him, the tiny asian lady has been around so long and seen so much he knows there ain't a Troll big and hard enough to try and take her on to get at his 'Nephew'.

Out front, the electronic buzzer begins it's teeth jarring noise as the door opens, allowing in another bitter draft of Seattle winter accompanied by a gentleman of diminuitive stature.
Closing the door with the heel of his boot, his arms occupied with the business of carrying a large item wrapped in several black plastic static-proof bags, he walks in.
Stumbling under the weight and awkward nature of the item, he barely makes it to the counter, then, using the Meta-Step™ height adjuster,
which looks distinctly like a plastic step someone might use for some form of aerobic exercise, despite the salesmans audible concern and protestations to the contrary,
to bring himself to a level above the counter top, where he places the object with some care and gives a muffled *Ahem!* to anyone who might hear ... in a ten mile radius.

Remy, Keeping his head down and suddenly concentrating more than he has to on one aspect of the VCR in an attempt to look unavailable, is horrified to hear his uncle say "Customer in, Kid!"
He pokes his head up from the carcass of the machine, with his jaw dropped slack and trying on his best, most practised, shocked and horrifed I is very busy don't you know ! look towards Danny,
who has gone back to the terminal and is currently dialling up another contact, completely oblivious to Remy's feigned injured dignity.
With the look both wasted and ineffectual, Remy extracts himself from the workbench, ripping the trodes free in mock anger,"Gnnnnhhh!......owwww!" he winces in agony as several hairs and he thinks about five layers of his skin come free before the glue relinquishes it's grasp. He pushes back in his chair the one jammed wheel of the five grating on the tiled floor noisily Bah! the guy's a fraggin' Ninja, there ain't no emotion left in 'im! he grumbles silently and clumps sulkily to see the newcomer.

If the front desk had a small brass bell, like in so many old Trids, then this guy would be pressing it's little metallic chime to point of irritation, that's one blessing Remy muses as he steps forward to greet the guy "Af'ernoon sir, welcomes to Danny's Pawn......" He get's halfway through the usual introduction before being cut off
"Yeah, yeah Kid, whatever, I know where the frag I am otherwise I would'nae come in tha door now would I !?" the statement catches Remy off guard a moment " ....And Loan, How may I HELP you?" He finishes through gritted teeth glaring slightly but not enough to scare off a potential client, even if he is a shortarse.

"Look, Chummer, I carried this blasted piece o' nonsense three blocks through tha' damn slush to get here in one piece, I'm told you give me a fair price, see! so here I am an' I ain't leavin' til I gets me a fair price, how's that scan kid?!" the Dwarf, obviously stood on tip toes so he can reach to plant his hands on the counter to lean forward enough to glower into Remy's face I fink he might acshually be off da ground alltogevva! He smirks to himself trying very hard not to look down at the dangling feet below the glass.
"Yes, Sir we's offering da best prices 'dis side of Bellevue," he says proudly and mostly honestly "But umm... what is it .. exactly ?!"

The Dwarf looks at him like he's some form of retarded child with facial defects or just a simpleminded insect that crawled out from under a rock
"Whaaa ... What is IT!?" he asks going a mild crimson colour and almost falling back off the Meta-Step™ foot stool .. Height Adjuster
"Well ...ummm.. it's a ... it's aaaa ...well.." He calms down somewhat and begins to unwrap it from the anti-static covering "How's about .. you tell me, kid !"
With that he removes the covering with a flourish and a deep indrawn breath of faux shock.

"Tadddaaaaa!"