Snohomish Truck Stop
Sunday 8/17/70 22:36:30
Mr. Smith - Survivor
PAN - Hidden

"The only doctors I know would ask too many questions about where you got those wounds." Mr. Smith seemed lost in thought about how he could help. "I've got a pretty good med-kit at home, though. If you'd like to plan to meet somewhere, an hour after you drop me off or so, we could see what it can do." He started to walk back towards the vehicles with Sledge eager to get away from the scene of yet another crime. "You want me to carry that?" Smith was gesturing at Sledge's sledgehammer. "What the hell happened up there, anyways?"

Snohomish Truck Stop
Sunday 8/17/70 22:36:40
Sledge
PAN - Hidden

Sledge took the head off the hammer and put it away, and heading for the car grimacing, "Over eager gorilla hit on me, probably wanted me to join it's harem, then the saber tooth got loose and wanted to snack on some Deer."

"I'll tell you the rest on the way."

Snohomish Truck Stop
Sunday 8/17/70 22:36:50
Mr. Smith - Survivor
PAN - Hidden

"Sure thing. I'll drive us to where Cal picked me up, and then you can have the car - I took my own transportation there. Meet me back at that same spot in an hour and I should have some medical supplies for ya - I'm not really trained in that area, but the computer pretty much walks you through it. You should be fine."

As they drove back towards campus, Sledge explained what took place upstairs after Smith got disconnected. He wasn't phased much by the idea that the animals were blown up - he had pretty much guessed that on his own. He wasn't even sure why Cal or Deerwalker thought the animals would survive after being released, in the first place - and he kind of looked at the explosion as cleaning up the whole mess. No evidence left and no chance of accidentally releasing some horrible disease on the city. Unfortunatly, as Sledge pointed out, there was a good chance that the explosion didn't leave any witnesses either.

Mr. Smith got pretty quiet after that part of the conversation. It was apparant that he took Teru's death a lot more seriously that that of the animals - a reaction Cal and Deerwalker were unlikely to share.

Conversation picked up again as they got to their destination and Sledge mentioned contacts and looking for "Shadow work". Smith smiled and said "Yeah, you've made a very good impression. If I hear of any jobs that could use your touch, I'll be sure to pass the word along. I don't find work often, but when I do, it usually pays pretty well." As he spoke, his thoughts turned to his money-problems. His family's bills, and his own, and begun to pile up. His credit was good, and he knew some people who he could call in for favors - but he was definatly glad to have gotten paid what he did after his original low bid. Even after the 1,200 he just made - by his calculations, he would need to make about 2,000 more every night this month to break even.

Perhaps I will check in on Franco tomarrow.

His life was beginning to look grim, again.

As he got out of the car, he reminded Sledge "One hour," then headed over towards an expensive looking black motorcycle and and drove off in the other direction.

Adam Lear's Dorm
Sunday 8/17/70 23:01:10
Mr. Smith - Survivor
PAN - Hidden

Smith drove around campus for a while, but eventually decided that Sledge didn't really have anything better to do than lurk in the stolen car out in front of his dorm - so he headed back, but parked at the next complex over, and entered hsi dorm through the back doors - an angle of approach that wouldn't be visable from where he had left Sledge. Running upstairs to his room, he was happily surprised to see that John wasn't home - probably out studying or someting. Tomarrow was a Monday.

Mr. Smith entered his room and dropped off his suitcase - stuffing it in its usual hiding spot in his closet, grabbing his expensive medical kit, and heading back downstairs.

Outside Adam Lear's Dorm
Sunday 8/17/70 23:23:14
Mr. Smith - Survivor
PAN - Hidden

Exiting the same back entrance, and circling around to the front, Mr. Smith arrived to deliver the promissed medical supplies. Mr. Smith felt like he should probably be more careful around criminal types - but it was a very public place, and he still felt bad about the fact that Sledge got mauled by a monster while he got off wound-free. The free car made them even for the linguasoft - and, in Smith's mind at least, the medical attention will make them even for the fact that she went through most of the danger.

Adam and John's Dorm
Sunday 8/18/70 8:00:00
Adam Lear - Student
PAN - Passive

Adam's alarm clock woke him up exactly at eight the next morning. He was up late, even after sending Sledge off with his stolen car, cleaning up and calming down after last night's "job." He caught some live news reports of the attack, but details were sketchy and reports were conflicting. He eventually went to bed out of sheer duty - he had classes to be at today.

As he got up and got a shower he replayed through the events of the night before - taking note of things that could have been done better, and things that he would like to clarify ahead of time should he ever find himself in a similar situation.

Working for Cal was definatly different than working for Franco - but it was bound to be when your "boss" isn't someone you particularly fear or respect. Cal was a peer to Adam and as much as Adam didn't like Franco, he had to admit that the man knew his buisness. The bottom line, though, was money. Franco had it, and Cal didn't. While Adam would love to have "Mr. Smith" work for noble causes and make the world a better place through selective crimes - as long as his bills outweighed his paychecks, he was content to lend Seattle's mafia his silver tongue for a couple of evenings a month.

It still disturbed him that Cal of all people had heard about that.

After his shower, he fired off a few commands to have his appliances put together something that passed for "breakfast" for college students, and saw that John was back, and awake, and not looking any better than Adam was.

"Long night, dude?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, you?"

Adam just sorta laughed and headed back into his room. From there he called back, "Yeah, was out with Cal - you know how he's always bugging me to speak for the Earthens."

"You finally caved?"

"Something like that."

He emerged from his room, with a T-shirt on, grabbed his breakfast, and started in on it.

Adam and John's Dorm
Sunday 8/18/70 8:15:00
John Wain - Student
PAN - Passive

John watched Adam preparing for class with amusement. It wasn't until recently that Adam had attempted to take his coursework seriously - right about when his life got the busiest. John hadn't pried into all the details, but udnerstood that his parents were having some financial problems, and that Adam was on his own this semester.

He suggested that the two of them return some of the really nice shit they kept in their room - but Adam shrugged it off. He had said something about how without all that shit, people wouldn't want to come over, and he'd be spending even more time going to all of their places rather than have them come over here. It made sense at the time (as Adam has a way of doing), but John hadn't really seen Adam "chill out" with anyone since the semester started. Every night he would go out, and more often than not, he wouldn't be back until the middle of the next day. This wasn't entirely out of character for someone as social as Adam, but John was concearned, as a friend, because he knew Adam was struggling to adapt to a "responcible student" lifestyle.

The fact that he seemed to be doing okay and staying on top of his course work was impressive, but the semester had just started. One night, when John had caught Adam at home, Adam had begun to let him in on some of the details of his strategy for coping with courses. Adam had an elaborate graph of the connections between students that could help him, faculty, organizations, and how he might get each one to do something for the other, on his behalf. He had a veritable harum of female students willing to "tutor" him, as well as a growing following of students willing to help him out, hoping that some of his charisma or luck would rub off on them.

One thing he really respected about Adam's scheme was that he wasn't willing to accept handouts. He didn't want any cheating on his behalf, and wasn't looking for an easy A. He wanted to learn this stuff, but he didn't have the time, tended to miss a lot of classes, and had never really developed any study-habits. He was looking for some help to ease the transition, and it seemed to be working. Adam and his charmed existance had always been something of an urban myth around campus, but now that people had a chance to have a piece of that legacy, they were lining up to help him out.

Adam and John's Dorm
Sunday 8/18/70 17:24:31
Adam Lear - Unemployed
PAN - Passive

Adam got back home around five. He only had three classes on Monday, but he hadn't been bac kto the dorm room since he left this morning. He caught lunch on campus with some attractive elven girl he met, and stayed there on his other breaks to try to catch up n schoolwork. His three classes did go well, though. He had a quiz he had forgotten all about, but guessed his way through it. Later, he compared answers with someone else, and felt pretty good about what he had put down. It reminded him a lot of his last few easy-going years. He hadn't learned a damn thing, but always seemed to walk away with the whole class envious of him.

The only point of real excitement was his class that Harper TA'd for. Despite being called upon more often than he would have liked (being the sort of person people like is a double-edged sword), he seemed to have given satisfactory answers - and once even said something vague that later turned out to be unintentionally insightful.

Harper was sitting in the back of the class today, grading papers or something, and although she had always come off as very closed and an almost cold person, he caught her watching him out of the corner of his eye once - and his heart speed up. This was not because he had any interest in her (at least, not romantically), but it was a sign that either he was making some headway in getting her attention - or that the cat was out of the bag (so to speak) and that his goose was cooked. She left before class ended, and he hadn't seen her again (his tutoring session with her isn't until Wednesday nights) - so he would just have to hope for the best.

All day he kept reminding himself that he wasn't really doing anything wrong. Its not like Franco said that he wasn't allowed to take Asian Studies classes - or even that he couldn't hit on his neice. The idea gave Adam very little reassurement - as he was quite certain that, no matter how impressed he might have made Franco in the dozen or so jobs he had handled for him... if he caught wind that "Mr. Smith" was hitting on his neice, he would see it for what it was, and be pissed.

So, what, exactly, is it? Adam couldn't answer that, himself. He couldn't figure out what he could possibly gain by becoming friends with Harper - since she was probably not privy to the family's dirty secrets. It was probably the thrill of doing something ballsy and pulling it off. The same sort of thrill that Adam felt when he went face-to-face with Franco to help out Tyisha (and Shwen). The same sort of thrill he felt last night when he was talking to Hiro in Japanese.

Yeah thought Adam to himself as walked into the living room and flipped on the trideo set. I missed that thrill. Working with the mob was fun, at first - and then it got real shitty. I got my ass kicked by some Russians, and all I could do was take it, prey they didn't kill me, and then appologize to Franco that I wasn't able to pull off another fucking miracle for him. That was thrilling, sure, but I couldn't enjoy it because I was too worried about being killed. Now I havn't heard from Franco in weeks, so I am forced to taking whatever job comes crawling up my reputation - from Cal of all people... who turns out to be a complete fucktard, and I nearly end up arrested. That was thrilling too, but I couldn't enjoy it because I spent half the night trying to patch up his shitty plan, and the other half running away from it when it went to Hell.

Adam was tired, and cranky - and the more he thought about his situation, the more it got him upset. He thought better of trying to call up Franco and be more proactive in his job-hunt. He had thought about calling this evening, but he wasn't sure if that would make him come off as loyal, or desperate - but he was pretty sure he didn't want Franco getting either impression. He didnt' know that this month's dry spell had anything to do with the Russian sending him to the hospital, but it was still a very black stain on an otherwise impressive (in Adam's opinion at least) criminal resume. Last night was another big stain, but the mission's failure didn't fall so much on his shoulders as on the poor planning of his employer. In any case, Adam felt that Mr. Smith should have been more selective. He was lured into it because he needed the money, but it wasn't worth the risk of being caught and sent to jail (or worse). Who would pay the bills if he was rotting away in prison for trying to free a bunch of fucked up lab rats?

For the time being his credit, and his luck, was holding. His mother would be taken care of until next month, his father could feed the family, and John and Adam wouldn't have to give up their sweet dorm room. But Adam could see the vultures decending. He had about 2,000 in certified cred in his room, but that would hardly put a dent in his debt. He needed a big job, and he needed it soon - but he didn't want to go crawling on his hands and knees to Franco.

For a second, he saw Franco's face in his mind, making that look he made when he was talking about the moment he realized that Shwen was defeated and had given up. Adam would rather start hitting up loan-sharks than let Franco realize Mr. Smith needs him more than he needs Mr. Smith. He went into his room, and threw Mr. Smith's comm on the desk.

I'm gonna have to do something to impress him though. After getting my ass kicked on that last job, I need to remind Franco that I'm worth the money he's been giving me.

As quickly as the thought had come, it left - as Adam remembered a far more important task he had to attend to. He spent the rest of the evening home, chit-chatting with John through his doorway as he took apart his commlinks, swapping their data, making adjustments to the hardware, and cleaning up the memory. When all was said an done, Adam had taken a very serious blow to his status, as he now had a commlink that could barely handle calls for him - none of the programming voodoo, or hacker shit, or sweet hot-sim VR crap that used to impress guys and girls alike. Nope, now Adam Lear was rolling with an off-the-shelf metalink with almost no features. Mr. Smith on the other hand, had gained another expensive toy to add to his collection of illegal-shit-that-might-save-his-ass-one-day. The idea that "Smith's" life was beginning to take over "Adam's" was made very concrete that night - and the idea was not lost on either of them.

The only thing that made either of them feel any better was spending the last hour of the night creating a very sweet new high-res icon for Mr. Smith's commlink. Artistic skill was yet another talent that Adam had, but didn't put to good use often enough. When he was finished, he was impressed - and wanted to show it off to someone, but knew he really couldn't. As he laid down to bed he laughed at the thought of letting John in on his double-life just so he would have someone to talk to about these sorts of things. His last thought as he went to bed, was of Sledge, and how he really enjoyed working with someone he could relate to - someone who wasn't a mobster, Yak, Triad, hippy, or mundane college student. He couldn't imagine ever chatting with Bruno during a ride home about how Franco Balducci half-assed some plan and almost got everyone killed, or explaining to John how agrivating it is to spend more than you make on a job putting your ass back together again.

With any luck, she'd contact him soon and he'd get to show off his new commlink then. Plus, if she's calling, it might be about work, and his financial woes might be pushed under the rug for another couple of weeks.

EZ Rest Lodge
Sunday 8/19/70 2:26:54
Sledge
PAN - Hidden

Sledge lay still in her coffin, eyes closed, fully immersed in augmented reality, desperate for anything to keep her mind occupied against the urge to get out of the coffin and go do something. Anything. But that would be a bad idea. Even if it would make her feel much better to pay Cal and Deerwalker a little surprise visit. It would be stupid to do, but make her feel better. Better then laying and thinking about cabbage soup.

She's slept over 16 hours once she'd done the deal with the car and getting patched up by Mr Smith, it being easier to use a separate pair of hands then for her to try and patch herself. Given where some of the claw marks were she might have hurt herself more just trying to clean the wounds out. The whole deal with the car was in stark contrast to the earlier events of the evening. Blind matrix message boxes, a location to park, blind exchange of car codes and an escrowed numbered account. She'd just parked the car where told, and took a walk and a late night bus ride to her bike, twenty minutes later the account cleared escrow. No muss, no fuss. She suspected she could have gotten more, but wasn't in a mood to argue price. As long as the car got chopped she'd be happy. Besides it was likely the savings would go to a cause. or The Cause as Monica would say, if Sledge was ever going to get to talk to her again.

She flipped back to the AR news feed and scanned once again for all the news on the facility that blew up, and mention of Cal and Deerwalker. Nothing to do now except do some info searching. Right away on waking she'd composed a scathing report and analysis of the whole operation, and her suggestions for how to keep any intended connections between Cal and ORC as clean as possible. They'd be useful, having some assets and resources not normally available to the hard working tuskers she knew, but you did not want to be too tightly linked to people who took such insane risks. She'd sent it to the blind matrix mailbox assigned for this week, and promptly felt better.

Sledge could almost taste the cabbage soup she was imagining. Andy used to take the week old soft cabbage head, toss in some beef broth, some leafy spices and a touch of lard and cook it for hours, the smell wafting through the apartment as she lay in bed recovering from the latest bout of flu.

The tears streaming out of Sledge's closed eyes as she lay in the coffin didn't obscure the AR windows in her head at all.