Dig Site 87RT67IU90
Saturday 8/23/70 02:49:00

Indeed she could. After tearing into the hapless rent-a-cop (was there any other kind, anymore?) for another few seconds, she quickly caught up with the heavily-burdened troll.

From there it was the cake-walk it was supposed to be from the start - at least for a group with their various and several skills.

Lesson from the Shadows: you could never count on anything going smoothly.

Soon, their two vehicles were approaching the second site, as some of the more industrious among them reviewed the images captured earlier by the scouts of the school, the fence around it, the construction site.

Dig Site 87RT67IU90
Saturday 8/23/70 02:49:03
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Pulling off from the dig site, Fortunato silently celebrated. The astral man in the snakeskin suit was still crouched in the back of his mind hissing calming assurances. As the van pulled off, Fort said "I'm going back to make sure I'm cleaned up. I imagine that Angel is too. I'll catch up with the van in just a minute.

He summoned a watcher to make sure that he knew the way back. Then thoroughly scrubbed his signatures off the site. He caught up with the van at a red light. The streetlight and a flashing neon sign advertising noodles painted Angel's unconscious face red as the vehicle idled. Her head rolled further into the lush cushioning of the former rigger's seat as she exhaled gently. Fortunato reached across the console and set her arm in her lap.

She doesn't deserve this.

And yet she was going to deserve it again as she tried to hack the concrete cutter. She'd be linked to another felony, maybe more before the night was out.

He sighed deeply then dozed, waking as the truck pulled up near a large construction site with iron girders poking through the graveyard shift mist.

En Route to Site 2
Saturday 8/23/70 02:49:03
Smith
PAN - Hidden

As the team was pulling away from the site, Angel gave an update, and the team received an ARO location, from Smith, in response. The ARO linked to an address in a nearby residential district, but as the Love Machine approached, cautiously, a few well-lit windows and some signs drew their attention to some converted houses that were now serving double-duty as storefronts. In the van's headlights, it became obvious that one was used for some sort of gourmet food outlet, and the other was some sort of antique shop. Despite being almost three in the morning, the food-outlet appeared to still be active.

In the well-lit windows, a dozen or so people could be made out, mingling around, talking, laughing, and eating. Food was being served, it seemed, and a number of people had wine-glasses in their hands. Music (of the upscale variety) could be heard as the door opened, when Smith exited. He seemed caught in the doorway for a moment, talking to someone. He held a hand up towards the street, as if to signal to anyone who might be watching that he would only be a moment. Rather than his briefcases, he had a box of some sort tucked under one arm.

Smith darted across the street to the Love Machine, and came up on the passenger door. When the rear door slid open, he seemed disappointed, but climbed in the back. He smiled when he saw the radar machine, but was clearly cramped. He leaned forward between the passenger and driver's seats, "Thanks for the lift, guys. I brought some food." He handed the box, to Fortunato. "Save some for the others," he added, smiling.

The van then exited the neighborhood and met up with the truck again, before resuming its route towards the construction site. On the way, Smith asked, "Everything check out okay at Site One?" He assumed he would have been alerted if shit had hit the fan, and he was resting one leg on the radar, so he knew they had succeeded.

En Route to Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:05:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

The second site went so smoothly that Smith almost missed it. The van didn't even get within eye-sight of the construction-site, so he had to go by the occasional matrix-message to assess their progress. Angel had absolutely no trouble with the drone - and Sledge had no trouble maneuvering the thing onto the truck. A few precautions later, and the team was pulling away. Smith would have been bothered by the whole thing seeming too easy, except that he had intentionally planned to be hands-off - and didn't expect to hear about the usual hiccups.

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:35:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Once he got news that the mission was a success, Smith directed the team to the garage address he had been given. Security there looked light, but Smith wasn't going to take his chances. Their caravan was met at the gate by a man who introduced himself in the way Eddie had explained that he would - and Smith did the same. After a tense second, the two laughed and exchanged a less formal handshake where cash was exchanged. The team was directed to one of a half-dozen large metal roll-up doors, and Smith was given access codes, which he forwarded to the rest of the team.

While the truck was being carefully maneuvered into its super-size coffin-motel, Smith was outside chatting with Eddie's friends. He seemed to be listening to some music, while they waited for his reaction, then, when he seemed into it, there was another outburst of positive reactions from the guys standing around. The display wasn't particularly professional, but Smith certainly seemed to be building a fast rapport with the guys who would be keeping an eye on their mission-critical gear overnight.

By the time everything was settled away, Smith had returned to the group. "Ready to call it a night?"

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:35:03
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato said "Yeah, I think we're done here. I've got to run, message me with where we're meeting tomorrow." He summoned a cab and returned several blocks from him home. He reflected that he was using an alarmingly traceable form of transportation on his walk home, then fell into a deep sleep."

Fortunato's Doss
Saturday 8/23/70 09:45:03

Fortunato munched contemplatively on a bowl of cereal. He stood in the corner taking slow, deliberate bites, ignoring the drops of milk that spilled on his battered dresser's top. He was stalling. The musky basket of goods from the talismonger was wedged next to the foot of his small bed and every time the mage ... or was it shaman now ... glanced at it his breathing slowed and he took another very careful bite of his meal.

Eventually he ran out of breakfast and shut the windows, sealing the shades tight in front of them. He opened the basket and withdrew a wooden whistle. Then he pulled the cover off of the small cage containing the canary he purchased and scraped the down and bird shit from the trap at the bottom of the cage, putting it into a somewhat ornate bowl also produced from the basket. The yellow creature loudly squawked its hunger and discomfort. Fortunato grimly covered it up, hoping the bird would shut up again. It would be free enough in a short period of time.

He glanced around the apartment -- the six square feet of space between the door, the bed and the dresser would have to do. He set out candles and lit them, then started blowing blowing gently on the whistle. As the candles burned, he pinched a little of the bird shit into each of them. The room acquired a tangy, acrid stink as the simple ritual was repeated over the hours. The hollow rush of air over the whistle left an oddly perpetual ringing sound in the room and the air clouded so thickly that Fortunato's eyes began to water and his nose began to run.

He balked at the next part of his task. When he was in high school, he'd been dared by two of his friends in thaumaturgy class to bind a spirit. They'd scraped together supplies by pinching them from the chemistry lab and buying household supplies then "purifying" them. It had been an epic undertaking, half a year's work. But when it came time to step into the circle, everyone balked. There was a deafening silence as the trio of fourteen year olds, hands sweaty with anticipation of their crime, stared at the crude ritual circle drawn into the floor with Bleach and surrounded by kerosene candles. Their eyes watered then too. The young Fortunato set his jaw. "I'll do it. We're not pussying out on the last 3 months. Let's have a story to tell." He'd begun to chant as he'd been taught, holding a vacuum cleaner head in one hand and a candle in the other. There was a stunning rush of wind as the spirit surged through the ground and knocked him over.

What business do you have with me child

I just want your service

You have my attention

Fortunato had felt very foolish thinking the vacuum was a suitable symbol of air's entrapment.

Enter this object for me.

Leave me be you maggot.

There was a crushing pressure inside of his chest and something forced it's way past his eyes and nose. He tried to yell. He writhed for nearly 30 seconds before passing out. He woke up in a hospital and hadn't bound a spirit since.

But now was the time to try it. The CIA had always had better mages around, that wasn't why he was employed by them. Here though, he was on his own in a way he'd never been -- no support, no backup, no political to call in if the op went south. He needed these spirits.

He didn't chant this time. He summoned spirits with his will alone now. Slowly the burning air wrapped itself into a vortex he recognized. The thin, whirling tornado with burning eyes in its center snaked around the perimeter of the candles, looking in at the shaman. He blew on the whistle again, an alarmingly low note came out.

Spirit, you are compelled to serve me. I command you to enter this whistle and make it blow.

As you ask.

The low, resonant note continued and gathered in intensity. Fortunato took a deep breath then clamped his mouth over the mouthpiece. His right thumb, previously cradling the whistle, was jammed over the thipple and his left hand pinched his nose. His face twisted itself like a towel being wrung out and the whistle started shaking erratically. He held on ferociously, his right hand tightening and the wooden instrument bowing and protesting under the pressure. Finally, a hiss of air leaked under his thumb and the whistle shattered an instant later. When he opened his eyes, the spirit was gone and there was an insistent knocking on the door.

"Lease say no smoking in room and no loud noises!"

Fortunato lay on the floor, puffed his cheeks and blew a long, regretful exhalation through his splinter filled mouth before taming his landlady.

Saturday 8/23/70 14:10:11

The canary had been getting increasingly agitated all morning. It was fluttering wildly around the cage when Fortunato set it in the center of his makeshift ritual area and squatted next to it. His mouth burned maddeningly from the scratches, but he was driven by need. If killing Louie Finnegan had been any indication, he desperately needed as much spirit support as he could get. He set his jaw, the morning's failure was a setback, not a defeat.

He slowly and carefully shredded a piced of snake skin as the bird kept up its twittereing. The flaky, scaly strips were scattered, almost carelessly on the ground. The contents of the basket had been emptied onto the floor next to the dresser. Fortunato pulled a single preserved snake eye, cloudy from its moult, from the heap of magical trinkets and crushed it in one hand while he focused. The basket was held in his other hand.

The dark room made a curious creaking sound for a moment then there was a sound of rending metal, a terrified bird scream and silence as a snake manifested and crushed the birdcage with its jaws. Seizing the moment, Fortunato swung the basket in a wide arc, aiming for the snake's head. It swooped close, but the monster had eaten quickly, it's alien eyes reflected the basket for a moment before it launched through its intended wicker prison, shattering it. The monster wheeled, hissing at the mage and battered him to the floor. It's jaws opened wide and two fangs snapped into place, its hood opened wide and its eyes blazed.

A moment of panic seized the unflappable mage, the same thing was happening again, why did this happen every time? There was no one to take him to the hospital now. Why even bother.

The tiny garter snake next to his head said The circle that killed her is only half known. You'll have no revenge with skin torn from bone.

A surge of power coursed through him and mana was sprayed at the beast before him. The snake hissed and wheeled and vanished in a puff of scales.

Saturday 8/23/70 17:02:30

The day had been draining. So much so that he hadn't cleaned the mess of snake skin, wax, pus, blood and bird feathers from his entry way.

After the binding attempts failed Fortunato had slept fitfully, tortured by dreams of drowning in air and being eaten alive. He'd attempted to summon some rudimentary backup for the run in the evening, gunning for a big spirit to test the powers he knew he had, but had failed to call forth the shining serpent he had summoned so often.

He'd hoped for another brief nap and success in conjuring some meager backup, but Johnson called while he was frittering away time, clearing his head and mentally preparing himself to spend almost a full six hours in astral. He didn't much like projecting -- it wasn't his specialty. He could cast a few spells and summon some spirits, but hurling himself into the unknown or making spirits slaves against their wills were things he was uncomfortable with. It was just like tradecraft, he could be a spy with a multimillion dollar agency behind him, but not on his own. It was just like being a husband and a father, he could protect his family until a threat came along. Now he had nothing.

Nothing but the snake on his windowsill. It only spoke in cryptic rhymes, but he found it calming. He was venting his frustration to it while it silently gazed at him and tasted the air. Eventaully it replied.

"Your framework is the falsehood here,
A spirit you have yet to tame
Repeted game repeated fears
To name the crux, its all the same."

"I appreciate your support. Your understanding is really comforting, snake." Fortunato sighed, even the snakes were mocking him.

He laid on his bed, ready to project to the rendezvous.

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:35:30

Fort was the first to slip out, off to work his magic with all those expensive baskets and birds Smith had forked out for.

With no place else safe to go, Rocky and Sledge appeared to be preparing to camp out here with the vehicles. Somehow, nothing about that struck Smith as particularly wrong, but when he saw Caittie casting about the place with a lost look it suddenly crashed home to him how out of place the cute little elf girl was. Even with her nemesis Cerberus having split, and all the other team members having gone out of their way to take the orphaned girl under their wing, she just didn't belong in some underworld-owned shed crashing in the seat of a van she'd killed someone for. It was obvious she was struggling with something. Her expression was hard to read, even for people-guy Adam, maybe a war between fatigue that told her just to give in and bed down here, or that feisty spirit that had always sent her off on her own between bouts of action.

As if to confirm his concerns, she shuffled up to him. Not meeting his gaze, she said, "So this job, it's for good guys, right? And just in and out. No killing this time, right?"

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Adam gave her a reassuring look, and motioned for her to come sit down by him and talk for a while. He didn't intend to spend the night here. This wasn't the sort of scene he thought he fit in, either, and, more importantly, he had somewhere better to be. Rocky and Sledge presumably had their own places - although Rocky certainly wanted to avoid his. He wasn't sure Angel had anywhere else to go - he certainly wasn't in any real hurry, and he didn't want to leave Angel while she was upset.

Her question caught him off-guard. It still hadn't really sunk in, or didn't feel entirely real. If someone had told him that he had arranged and executed a murder recently, he probably wouldn't have believed them. He hadn't thought about the dead rigger, or the other guys who ambushed them, until just now. He didn't feel guilty about the fact that his team didn't let themselves be killed - but neither did he fully recognize the reality of how much death his new job brought with it.

He returned his attention to Angel. "That's the plan. Its different, this time. Our backs aren't up against the wall. We're not fighting for our lives. We're not forced into this. Well, not really, anyway." He pointed towards the other two with his chin, "I think Sledge might know more about who we're doing this for, and why - but you said their IDs checked out, and I met them online where they said they'd be, so I think it's legit." He shrugged. "And, if they can really help us all out of our respective jams, I think we can call them the good guys."

He could tell that although Angel was glad to hear him say it, he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. She still seemed preoccupied, and upset. Adam decided to try a different approach - less professional, more heart-to-heart. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder and said, "I know this has been hard on you. I don't think I can count the number of times you've already saved my life since we've met - and you've had to do some things, that nobody should ever have to do, to get it done. We all owe you a lot, already. I don't know where someone your age learned what you can do with a commlink, but you deserve better than to have to do it just to stay alive, every night. I know your life is all backwards, right now, and even if we get our reward - it can't put everything back the way it used to be, but... well... I'm here for you, if there is ever anything I can do."

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:20

"No," she answered, looking up shyly at the good-looking college guy, "You've already been great. You don't need to be doing anything else for me...actually, that's sort of the reason I've come this deep into things with you guys...I sort of figured I owed you, you know, for...for solving my Mob problem."

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:40
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Adam smiled, "Half of you had mob problems. The other half had unemployment problems. My job was to facilitate." He put his hands together, interlacing the fingers. "We all helped each other out. I'd say we're even, now." He looked back towards the truck. "This? This is something different. Well, I don't know what everyone else is going to ask for - I mean, for all I know, this is just another job for some of them." He then looked back at Angel. "I do know that very few people in our line of work would have taken this job. Far to risky, and too many connections with the sort of people we avoid at all costs. I figure, anyone interested, wants out, and needs help getting there. And, if that's the case, I figure it is still my job to facilitate." He smirked, then looked confused.

"So, wait. If the reason you're here is to thank us, and not because you need Their help..." He paused for a second. "What are planning to ask for? I mean, if you don't mind saying."

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:30:13
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

The drive out to the garage, while tiring and a little nerve wracking had actually almost been fun for Rocky, once he had gotten used to how the truck handled with the beast that was the concrete saw strapped to it he had relaxed some and gone with the flow. He didn't stress his speed and kept his eyes and ears open for any signs of the star or knights looking for them.

Now parking the truck in the garage was a challenge to be sure and when he was done the passenger rear view mirror was hanging at an odd angle from clipping the side of the building.

Once the truck was parked, he dug up a few wooden blocks to help make sure it didn't roll around while they were sleeping. With is safely secured he took the chance to grab some food and one of the mats from the back of the van.

Not seeing anywhere better he laid the mat out on the little bit of the flatbed not taken by the saw. He used his duffel bag as a pillow and set his pistol with in easy reach, just in case something came up during the night, what was left of it. It occurred to him less than a month ago he would not have worried about that kind of thing when he was getting ready to go bed for the night.

Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:43

He could hear Smith and Angel talking about the situation the individuals of the team were in and did not want to interrupt as he knew he would never be able to talk as smoothly as Smith could.

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:00

The girl shrugged. "The thing is, I can't ask them for anything. It's complicated. Don't get me wrong - I've actually checked them out a little more since we took the job. They really are honest cops. But something one of them said to me. They mean well, but they're not safe. I think even doing this job, I can't take their favor. And then that got me thinking..."

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:05
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith seemed interested to hear more about their benefactors. He raised an eyebrow, and waited for Angel to go on.

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:20

"It's just...it's just that they told me some things...things I guess I already knew, but they just made it more clear for me. Sort of laid things out. Things that helped me understand that Louie may have been the least of my problems. I can't really say more than that - just that I need to keep a low profile. Really low. I mean, I know this stuff you do, it's all about staying under radar, but I don't think that's enough for me, I mean, while under the radar you're going around doing...things...that would put you on the radar. Oh man, I know I'm not making any sense. I just think...I think I need to leave."

She looked down and studied her feet.

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:45
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Adam nodded, "I get it. I mean, part of my job is advertising that we're out there to find us more work. If you're still on somebody's radar - I can see how that would be a problem." He paused for a moment, thinking about a few different approaches. "Is this 'problem' of yours something 'solvable', like the situation with Louie? Maybe not the same way, but, I mean, could a group of Runners with nothing better to do help you out of your jam?" He wasn't expecting her to agree, even if it was possible. Angel was already feeling like she owed the group more than she could repay - but, perhaps, by asking, Adam would get a clue as to what the issue was, and be able to come up with a way to help.

"In any case, would you be safer bailing out sooner, rather than later?"

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:30

When Smith finally got down to a direct question, it seemed to shake Caittie out of her roundabout explanation of things. "Sooner," she said. "Actually, if it helps at all...I've found someone that can maybe replace me. I mean, right away." The last bit out in a nervous rush.

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith nodded as it became more and more clear that Angel wasn't looking for advice in making this decision, but, rather, looking for a polite way to put in her resignation. A two-week notice would have been ideal, but this was already a lot more respectful than Cerberus's dine-and-dash mid-mission. At least, this time, Smith wasn't hearing about it second-hand. Smith didn't really want her to go, but had expected her to leave after the mission, anyway. He had to respect the fact that she at least came to him about it, personally. She also wasn't running off with any gear - as far as he could tell.

"Its your call, Angel. If you wanna stick it out, through tomorrow, I think you'll be spending the whole mission in the van, in VR. It should be relatively safe and anonymous work, and even if all you ask for is a new fake ID, it would probably help you on your way to whatever life you've got lined up for yourself. If you've got a replacement in mind, and a favor lined up to convince them to help out last minute, we can probably accommodate that - for you. You've already contributed a lot to this mission. I'll make sure they know that when we report in, in case you find you could use a hand, after all."

"The thing is," Smith made sure to put this delicately, so as not to belittle her attempt to make her exit less painful for the team. "I don't know your friend - and bringing on a stranger at the last minute strikes me as one of the biggest heist-movie cliches we could commit. Unnecessary risk is totally my style, but I don't think its going to fly with everyone else when their lives and futures are on the line. I sought you out, specifically, and my expectations for you were high. If I had wanted just any-old hacker, I know a few other people I could have brought on-board without wading through the spaghetti-storm surrounding you. I could still call some of them up, if it comes to that, but... we can talk about your friend in a minute."

He kneeled down, and tried to catch her eyes in his. "Regardless, if you need to go... go. If you need a place to stay for a while, or you need someone to smooth something over for you, or if you need anything at all... you've got my number. Just because its too risky to work for me, that doesn't mean we can't stay friends. I'm sure a smart girl like you will find an anonymous way to keep in touch."

He then stood up, and resumed his previous casual stance. "Now, tell me about this replacement you've got lined up. I figure, you know a lot more than I do when it comes to this sort of thing - so your recommendation is going to go a long way. See if you can't improve my confidence a little bit, though. Is this person online right now? Maybe the two of you have time for a little test-drive tonight, so I can see what I'll be relying on, tomorrow?"

He shrugged, "First, though, I want to hear your opinion."

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:43

"Well, actually," Caittie started to answer, realizing her plan may not be as well thought out as she'd imagined, "I don't actually know this person. I've never talked to him or met him, so I don't know what sort of opinion I can give....But he has REALLY good references, er, reference. My, um, my teacher, the one who first helped me survive on the streets, and who taught me about my, I mean, how to use the matrix, she suggested this guy. She said he is really skilled in this sort of thing, I mean, the stuff I've been doing. She says he's really much better at it than I am, and that he does this sort of thing regularly. He's supposed to be a pro, not just some kid who fell into it."

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith looked unconvinced. "So, you don't know him, either... and I don't really know your teacher." His blank stare became something of a smirk. "But, I suppose she knows him, and your opinion of her should count for something." He shook his head a little. "The thing is, for all either of us knows, this guy might be a wiz hacker, but completely unreliable - or worse, he might bring some trouble with him, or have ties to people we're still trying to avoid. He might be a lone-wolf, and have problems working with a team, and he certainly doesn't owe us anything. If things go bad, real bad, I feel like I could count on you, or on anyone else in the team, to risk their lives to save mine - knowing I'll do the same for you, and that we're all in the same boat, together. There's no way I can say that about this guy who's twice-removed from the team I scouted. The people backing this mission probably feel the same way, as they came to us, specifically."

He raised an eyebrow while he let Angel think about that a little bit, then he continued. "Even if your teacher thinks she knows him pretty well, and you think you know her pretty well, and I think I know you, well, I know you well enough - I can't actually say that I know anything about this guy other than that someone told you that he's good... and that he's willing to take on a job like this, last-minute. If he's a professional, he should be as worried about this as I am."

His smirk grew into a full smile. "I've got an idea. First, give me what info you have on this guy - his name, and how I'm supposed to contact him. I'll run a quick background check on my end. Again, if he's a professional, and he's good, he should have a rep. I know a few local hackers. If nobody has heard of him, or they have, and have nothing good to say - I'll probably pass - at least for this weekend. If he doesn't have a rep, its because he hasn't done anything worth remembering - and if his rep is bad, well, that just means someone remembers something he did that I should know about. Either way, stuff I need to know, if we're making a late-game switch."

"I'd like you to spend an hour or so, tonight, seeing what you can dig up on this guy, on your end. I mean, I know he's supposedly hot-shit, but if that is the only thing I am going to find out about him, there isn't much separating him from all the other hot-shit-hackers out there, looking for work. I need to know something about this guy before I can trust him - I need to know he's a real person, ya know? Who is he? What makes him tick? Why is he doing this sort of work? If you can dig up information on him, as easily as you did on me, that shouldn't take long. Otherwise, talk to your teacher. She might be able to give you some of that information, but I'd be interested to see what you can discover, yourself. Don't bother asking him, directly, I'll meet with him later, and get a feel for him - I just want some facts to go in that conversation with. Get it?"

"Once I've made sure he's not blacklisted, and have gotten a feel for just how professional this guy is, and you've put together a quick dossier on him - then I'd like to set up a meeting, online. Tonight, if possible. If this is going to happen, its going to have to happen fast, and I'm going to have to have something solid to go on if I'm going to convince the rest of the team that this is a good idea and not a disaster waiting to happen." Smith could imagine Sledge's expression already. The two of them had already had more than their fair share of problems with unreliable hackers.

He smiled again. "Either way, it sounds like you need to leave, tonight. As long as you've got someplace to go, that's fine - we'll cope. I appreciate your help finding a replacement, and I hope this works out, and that he's as good as you say he is, but I don't want you to feel any pressure to stay. We can get through this weekend, one way or another - and I'll look up this friend of yours, eventually, even if tonight turns out to be too risky."

"So, does that sound doable?" He seemed to have more to say on the subject, but waited to see Angel's initial reaction, first.

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:30

Caittie blushed. "Actually, I already did a search on him. A good search. I knew you'd ask for it." She stopped, but all Smith did was look at her expectantly. "Well, ummm, I'm pretty sure I found him - at least I think it was him. If it is, he's on the matrix a lot. But his icon keeps changing. I only think it's him cuz I could trace the commcode I had to reach him with to that icon - but I gotta tell you, that was not an easy thing. But I also knew you wouldn't want me to contact him myself - knew you'd wanna do the honors, so I don't think he saw me."

She paused to take a breath, but the young Johnson was still looking at her with eyebrows raised in question. "But, umm, I didn't find any, umm, any information about him. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Now, I know you just got done saying that means he's no good, but in my, umm, professional opinion, that means he's exactly the guy you want." She shrugged. "Doesn't mean he doesn't have a rep in the meat world, though."

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:40
Smith
PAN - Hidden

It didn't worry Smith that Angel came up with nothing. That just meant, he would be going into this with about the same amount of information than he had on Sledge when he first worked with her. Of course, that first job was exactly the sort of disaster he was hoping to avoid. Fortunato was a better example. Smith didn't know much more about him, than that he could cast spells, and Franco suggested he use him. So far, that had worked out well, and Smith didn't know a thing about the man, outside of work.

Smtih nodded. "That was what I was thinking. If nobody else has ever heard of him, that's bad. If his personal data isn't within easy reach, online, I think you're right. That's god." He thought about this for a moment. "Okay, what's this guy's name, handle, alias, whatever? Also, think you could find him again? Maybe, go online with me, and introduce us?" Smith was already tossing some ideas around about just what exactly he would say to this person when he met him. He didn't know anything about him, so it would be tough to guess how to approach the situation - but he was starting to learn things about him. For one, he covers his ass. That's good, in the long run, but if he plans to keep his cards close to his chest, Smith knew that it was going to be difficult to get close enough to him to be able to trust him. That gave him a couple more ideas.

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:50

"My, uh, my contact gave me a little more to help us decide about this guy," Caittie volunteered. "I think she really wants you to work with him, so she gave me some names of people that have, umm, worked with him. Some people call him Error, or 1406, or both I guess, so I think that's what you should ask these people about."

She flashed Smith an AR list of names.
VRX, with a commcode.
Rigger Mortys, another commcode.
Man o' War, leave a note at milepost 27 in Fort Lewis.

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:40:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

"Rigger Mortis," Smith sniggered, shaking his head slightly. "Okay, these will help. Should I take the lack of contact info for your teacher to mean she'd rather stay out of it? If these guys ask, where should I say I got their information?" Smith wasn't sure if there would be much point in talking to Angel's tutor, since he already knew she thought highly of this Error guy, but it never hurt to make new contacts - especially ones who wanted you to do something.

"And, did you have any interest in meeting this Error guy when I do?" He looked around, a little. "I mean, if you'd like to get a head start on wherever you're going - that's cool - otherwise, I'd be interested to get your first-impression, too." The truth was, Smith would feel a lot better about meeting a hacker online, if he had one of his own, watching his back. He thought that if he phrased it that way, though, Angel might feel obligated to stay, even if she needed to go.

The moment the question had left his lips, his hands began flicking in AR - dialing the second of the commcodes he was given. Hopefully, Rigger Mortys worked late on the weekends.

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

The first call went by relatively quickly. Smith quickly got the impression that Rigger Mortys wasn't going to tell him much about Error, other than that she considers him a skilled professional. She wasn't as concerned about how Smith got her commcode, or why he was asking, as he expected her to be. The professional attitude was appreciated, but Smith was slightly concerned that he still didn't know much more about Error than that some strangers say he's good - but he got the impression that she knew more, she just wasn't saying. The call didn't take very long, so Smith spent a few more minutes attempting to socialize with Rigger Mortys, with mixed success. As soon as he had given up on getting information about Error, it was clear that all other topics were wasting both people's time. After a few minutes, he left, on a high note, and left his contact info behind, in case Rigger Mortys needed work, or needed people to do some work.

The second call didn't go much differently than the first, although VMX was a lot less hospitable, and much less interested in chatting. It started to become quite clear that Error had left a good impression on both people, but that both people were either identically paranoid about saying much else about him - or were both aware of Error's preference. The latter was much more likely, Smith felt. It also meant that contacting Man o' War tonight would be a waste of his time. It would take a while to make the drop, and he would have no idea when he would hear back from him. Man o' War also seemed like the kind of guy who would keep details to himself, whether Error cared or not.

Luckily, Angel did have a contact commcode for Error, and was willing to tag along - but wanted the meet to happen quickly. Smith didn't see any reason to put it off. Both references seemed to think highly of Error, and it was clear that he wasn't going to get any more information about him without going to the source. Smith sent a quick message to the team saying he was heading out for the night - but would be back tomorrow - and suggested that Angel do the same, especially if she wasn't planning to return.

Since they were both planning on heading out, anyway, Smith and Angel started by catching a cab to the bus-station. The buses ran late, but not often - luckily, they arrived just minutes before a bus was set to leave. Still, they afforded them an opportunity to pass out in a seat for a while, and remain constantly on the move. At the very least, he didn't want to accidentally draw attention to the location of the stolen gear. Once on the move, they rebooted and spoofed their accessIDs - going through the usual rituals that they both went through before undertaking hacker-work. Smith wasn't nearly as thorough, but was counting on Angel to fill in the holes he was leaving.

Smith was content to use AR, which let him keep an eye on the real-world, too. Angel preferred VR, and would be a lot more useful there, anyway. They finally picked out a public node they believed to be relatively secure. Chances are, his commcode's upgraded firewall was a little better, but he thought it would be better to offer to meet at some neutral location, first. Angel was instructed to be on the lookout for anything "naughty" going on. Smith suggested she remain in the background, watching Smith's back - but if she felt like participating in the discussion, she was welcome to. This was her opportunity to meet her replacement, but Smith doubted she cared, since she was planning to leave all of this behind.

A couple of moments later, they were both as prepared as they would ever be, and Smith constructed the message:

<<@Error:: You've been referred to me for a last-minute job, and your references check out. If you're online, and not busy, I'd like to meet with you and ask you a few questions. >>

Attached was a link to the node he and Angel were already on.

An Upscale Hotel
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:05
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

It took forty-five seconds for ERROR 1406 to become aware of a message left for him at his dropbox commcode. Why this eternity of digital time?
First the message was immediately censored. The word ERROR, the number 1406, any of ERROR's other aliases, any reference to anywhere ERROR has stayed in the past 6 months...all deleted and corrupted. Other keywords are substituted. "Johnson" becomes "pomegranate." "Matrix run" becomes "echidna." "Job" becomes "skoptsy." Other words he just made sound slightly pornography. People are always willing to believe it is just kinky smut. These are all words with unusual letter combination. It makes breaking an encryption much harder, and, even if the code is broken, makes the message inadmissible in a court of law. No one went to jail for doing a dehisce for Pomegranate. It is then encrypted and forwarded to thirteen different commcodes, eleven of which automatically corrupted the message beyond all hope of recovery. The twelfth commcode was a disposable commcode under a false name, in truth run by a privacy company. In a hard drive that never had been, and never will be, connected to the matrix is a list of serial numbers and encryption keys. Customer has his own serial number, and a list of randomly generated encryption keys, a different key for every minute. When the message is received, the serial number for that client is encrypted on the offline hardrive is encrypted with the matching key for that minute and hand typed onto an online computer, which then posts the encrypted message and separately encrypted serial number on one of thousands of nodes whose only name is a string of truly random characters. Meanwhile, a searchbot, hired from an independent company who knows nothing of any of the other parties involved. Once every thirty seconds, it runs a full search through a complete set of all possible nodes looking for two possible strings of forty-three letters. The exact string it is searching for is the encrypted serial number for the current minute, and the previous minute. If it finds the string, it copies it, and any following characters, pastes the text into a message, encrypts it again, and sends it to yet another comcode. This commcode is pretty standard-for a drek-hot cracker like ERROR 1406. Usual tricks for making it nigh untraceable, etc.
When the message reaches this commcode, ERROR is notified. So he decrypts it first using the key provided by the search bot. Then he removes the first forty-three letters (this being the serial number). Then he decrypts the message itself with the final key to get something that looks like this.

<<@ :: You've been referred to me for a last-minute skoptsy, and your references check out. If you're ximelolagnic, and not busy, I'd like to taste you and ask you a few questions. >>

A touch of blind panic touched ERROR 1406 at the words "Referred," "References," and "Check-out." It was the usual panic. Wrenching of gut. But he was used to the feeling by now, and the internal flinch barely registered on his face. On his left hand, he drummed out binary equations. The pinky finger had a value of one. The ring finger has a value of two. The middle finger has a value of four, the index eight, and the thumb a value of sixteen. a raised finger was a zero, and one resting on a surface represented one. He could only represent values of up thirty-one on his left hand using this method, and cannot even represent a single byte of data (only five bits, and eight are needed for a byte). But the excorizes had little to do actual computation, and more with A) rebuilding control of his left hand, and B) providing a clear link to his body so he doesn't get lost in Matrix. Tying the binary to the material world... integrating the two into one totality, as it should be.
Back to the task at hand.
ERROR sunk into full immersion, and ceased to exist. Or, to put it in a bit less melodramatic manner, he became empty, in the Buddhist sense of the word. He existed in such a state for a moment, his mind, pure binary on the matrix. An algorithm. Source code, clinging to a fragment of intent. When any element self of surfaces he is already in the appointed node. a slight midnight oil slick of resonance on the ocean of code. He saw them there. Little differentiations. Relevant? Maybe. Further investigation. Ah. Icons. Icons were a function in the matrix. A function he could not yet relate to. A bit further into his self again.

ERROR 1406 was never good at icons. So he based his on a fractal representation of the architecture of the node. Millions of interlocking three-dimension microcosms extending outwards in a vaguely humanoid form with indistinct boundaries.

ERROR 1406 liked fractals. He often relied on them for graphic representations.

Speaking of fractal graphic representations.

Wracking his brain for an appropriate metaphor, ERROR made a hasty decision and offered two small keys made of static to the two icons.
"Encryption" he said. Then he said something else, but is came out as high frequency static.

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:18
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith's icon - a nondescript, low-res man in a black suit, with mirrored-shades that reflected high-res images of the rest of the icons in the node - ignored the invitation at first, but after Angel's metal-angel icon nodded and took hers, he reached out and accepted the offered key with the slow, mechanical movements of an AR user. He didn't really think twice about which encryption program to use. He knew his was good - the best on the market when he got it - but he knew that the important thing was building trust with this hacker, who would feel a lot more comfortable using his own encryption software. He wasn't particularly worried, either way - the other users in this node weren't interested in what they were going to say, they were desperate men and women looking to make some connection to another metahuman - at four-o-clock in the morning. The choice of node felt fitting - as this was, in essence, what Smith was hoping to do.

An instant later, when the encryption algorithms had re-seeded the new key, Smith offered a private chat invitation to the same user ID who had offered him these keys - directing him towards a private booth. Once inside, his message came across their encrypted connection, point-to-point.

<<@Error:: I am glad to see you could make it on such short notice. I apologize for any inconvenience.>>

The icon wasn't forwarding a stream of speech. Instead, it seemed to be using an off-the-shelf text-to-speech translation software - which got the job done, and was primarily intended to anonymize the user, but sounded 'off' compared to the usual modes of communication, online. For a user in VR, used to firing entire thoughts across on a single pulse, it was also mind-bogglingly slow.

<<@Error:: Let's get right down to business, if you don't mind. This is the situation. I am managing a team of deniable assets - I am sure you know the type - and they are in the middle of a job that has gone fairly smoothly, except for one little hiccup.>> His icon turned its head towards Angel's, then back. <<@Error:: Our matrix-specialist has decided to retire - which is good for her, and so I am supporting her in this decision - but that leaves me shorthanded.>>

There was a slight pause. <<@Error:: I am not particularly concerned about this job - as Angel, here, has done her job well, and I believe the majority of the matrix-work is out of the way, but we will absolutely need a replacement, in the long term - so I would rather get to work on recruiting one, now, than later, when it is mission-critical.>>

<<@Error:: Any questions, so far?>>

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:18
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

"No questions" ERROR says, pleased with how well the meeting is going so far. No hard questions, and only one slightly scary comment. Long term involvement with runners might imply much painful probing.

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:30
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith's icon was stoic, but that was more a matter of it not being told to animate than any indication of the user's reaction. Still, a moment passed before he continued.

<<@Error:: Very well. I believe the situation I described would provide an excellent opportunity for the team to try out a replacement, in a low-risk situation, and make sure the person would be a good fit for the team. This is why I would like to get you in on this job, immediately, assuming the rest of this interview goes well. That would also free up Angel to go about her business.>>

<<@Error:: I've been told that you are a professional, so let me reiterate one point before I go on. I am not the sort of Johnson that picks you up for a single job, and then prefers never to see or hear from you again. That is a completely valid way of doing business, and might be how you have been recruited in the past, but what I am looking for is a tight-knit team of specialists, that I can count on, that I can trust, and that I can find work for that requires a certain level of skill and teamwork that you just can't find by scrounging together random guys off of the street, and asking them to depend on one another. >>

<<@Error:: You come highly recommended, so I will not question your skills with a computer. We wouldn't even be having this conversation if I didn't have reason to believe that you were capable of doing what I need you to do. However, because of the way I operate, what I need you to do is about as important as how you go about doing it. Unfortunately, you are, perhaps, too good at what you do, as I was unable to find out much about you. I have been unable to determine, ahead of time, if you possess the personality characteristics I am looking for, or if you're the sort of guy who will make a good fit with the team I have already established.>>

<<@Error:: So, if you're still interested, I would like to ask you a few direct questions, in an attempt to get to know you. I would like to have a better feel for who you are, before investing anything further. Shall I go on, or do you have any questions for me before we begin? >>

The icon raised its eyebrow, when it asked its final question. Smith was careful with the words he chose, and this showed in the amount of time it took the icon to speak.

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:30
Smith
PAN - Hidden

ERROR was glad there was such a delay in speech, that everything took so long. It gave him time to get control over the Dread the Johnson's words inspired, and sort out the null concepts included therein. When the time came for ERROR to reply, he has his fear under control. Still, he did not trust himself, so he kept the reply simple.
"No questions"

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:35
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith's icon nodded.

<<@Error:: Alright, let's start off simple. How would you describe yourself in three words? >>

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:35
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

Smith's icon nodded.

"Reflexive Pronoun," ERROR said, then paused to think "English"

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:40
Smith
PAN - Hidden

<<Clever.>> Smith's icon smiled. <<Evasive, and slightly smart-assed, but clever.>>

<<Keep in mind, that I am looking for something. There aren't really any right or wrong answers to most of these questions, but if your answer tells me nothing, you are wasting both of our time. Feel free to elaborate, as much as you like, in order to properly represent yourself. You're being evaluated as much by what you do not say, as by what you do. >>

<<Let's move on. If I assembled three of your previous coworkers, and asked them about you, what would they say about you, that you would say is not true?>>

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:40
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

ERROR 1406 gave a little smile. Well, his meat body did- his icon is not capable of smiling.
"Nothing." He paused "That is, I would not say any of their words are untrue."

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:50
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith thought, for a moment, and then decided to help prod Error into expounding on his answer. <<Is this because everyone you have ever worked with has gotten a completely accurate impression of you?>> His icon folded his hands on the virtual table. <<Or, rather, that you would simply not correct any misimpressions? >>

Back on the bus, Adam smirked. Error had been warned once about answers that said nothing. This second time, he let it pass without warning, but did his best to give a hint.

Adam had been thinking back to some of his many job interviews, where he had been asked curve-ball questions - either to test his creativity, or so the employer could get a sense for the type of person he was. This was where he shined - and his responses were usually what got him the job. Long ago, Adam had learned that when it came to this sort of thing, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, or if he wasn't the best candidate applying for a position - if he nailed the interview, his charming personality meant a lot more to an employer than anything else. An inexperienced employee could be trained, especially if they seemed bright, creative, and eager to learn, but a skilled employee, with a bad personality, was a lot more difficult problem to correct. Usually, not worth the trouble.

It wasn't that Error's personality was striking him as particularly 'bad'. The hacker just seemed to be saying the bare minimum necessary to answer the questions - and usually not addressing the question at all - which told Adam volumes, but nothing positive. In particular, it seemed to be saying that he wasn't that interested in the outcome of the interview. He either wasn't taking it seriously, or didn't understand what was being asked of him. Neither case was particularly desirable - for either of them.

Adam began to wonder if it was worth his time to figure out which case it was, but his curiosity got the best of him, so he waited for Error's response before moving on to another question.

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:50
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden


"Others are not capable of making false statements about onself," ERROR explained, "Nor true statements for that matter."

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:01:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

The same usual pause followed - was Smith taking notes? <<"Moving on, then - perhaps to something you believe is possible. What would you say are three areas, where you could use the most improvement?>> Smith was going to let the question stand, as it was, but decided that Error was unlikely to venture much outside of the bounds of the original question - which, like his previous questions, was the intent. He decided to add a little something to help get the hacker's brain-juices flowing. <<... and what are you doing, if anything, to improve in each of these areas?>>

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:01:00
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

"Your questions will not satisfy you." ERROR 1406 finally said. He had been wanting to say it since the interview began. "I heard what you are looking for. Looking to know about me. You do not know the questions, and I do not know the answers. Even if I did know the answers, I do not know how to communicate them intelligibly. It is not in my interest to waste your time. If you have no other strategy for assessing me, and are not willing to hire me outright, I suggest we either turn the conversation to social matters, or leave."

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:01:20
Smith
PAN - Hidden

This was actually Error's most interesting response, yet. Unfortunately, it only confirmed what Adam had been thinking all along, while making Error appear to be much less stable than Adam had assumed.

Smith's icon looked puzzled - which wasn't any slip of demeanor, but must have been an intentional animation triggered by the user. <<I appreciate your honesty. I don't wish to be insulting, but I am, frankly, surprised that you cannot, or will not, answer these questions. There is nothing particularly difficult about them - they are very standard interview questions, even outside of our respective lines of work. The sort of responses you've given wouldn't qualify you for a job at a Stuffer Shack, but an inability to even comprehend them, let alone to think creatively about them, most certainly disqualifies you for the sort of work I have in mind for you. If you cannot communicate with me, about this, what should make me think you will be able to communicate with my whole team, about things that are a matter of life and death?>> His icon paused a moment, hoping that his words were making any sense to the kid, or whatever, on the other side of Error's connection.

<<I've also noticed that you did not spend any time at all thinking about the questions, before answering. Your average response-time was less than a second - even for hot-sim, that suggests that you did not put a modicum of thought into your answers - which suggests that you're not particularly interested in whether you get the job, or not.>> Smith's icon turned one hand over, and looked down at it, as if showing Error the 'nothing' he had been given.

<<You are right that I do want to know about you - if I am going to be able to trust you, I have to. I haven't asked anything specific about you, out of professional courtesy - just about the type of person you are. By my count, I've asked you three questions, each of which gave you three chances to leave a positive first impression, or to convince me that you are the sort of person I want on my team. You have failed to do either of these things. Moreover, you've failed to tell me anything about yourself that I did not already know, before - except, maybe, just now, when you've admitted to being unable to perform this simple task. Your references checked out, as I said, but they, too, were unable to tell me even one impressive or interesting thing about you.>> The other hand turned over, again, full of nothing, and Smith's icon looked back at the center of the fractal.

<<So, you have now suggested turning the conversation to social matters. Again, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude, but my impression is that this would also be a waste of time. Are you any more capable of making smalltalk, than you were about talking about yourself? If I ask you any other questions, are you going to respond any more intelligibly? Do you have hobbies? Interests? Is there anything to you besides a handle, a cool custom icon, and an embarrassingly sparse resume?>>

<<I am looking for something to separate you from the thousands of other hackers that would do this job, better, for less. If you're not interested, there are other people who would appreciate an opportunity like this - people who need this job. I would be doing them a huge favor by giving them the shot, that you don't seem to want.>>

<<So, you tell me why I should assess you, by any other metric, and I will. Otherwise, you are telling me that you're not interested, and that we are done, here.>>

Smith's icon folded its empty hands once more on the table. He was a little annoyed - not at Error who probably had no idea what he was getting into when he responded to Smith's booty-call, but at himself for entertaining Angel's idea about bringing on some random guy at the last second to replace her. He wished she didn't have to go. He wished she would open up and tell him what is wrong, so that he could help her resolve it. He also wished that he was a better hacker, himself, so that he didn't have to waste his time sifting through every autist with a commlink, at four in the morning, looking for anybody capable of stringing a few coherent sentences together so that the rest of his team didn't bail on him when they heard that Angel skipped town. It didn't matter if the hacker was good. The hard part was over. It only mattered that the hacker didn't inspire a sense of overwhelming incompetence. In that regard, it was going to be a long night.

Adam glanced over at Angel's sleeping form, and smiled. At least things were getting better for somebody he knew.

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:01:20
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

"Small talk is easy. As is communicating information about the phenominal world, including the material world and the Matrix, is also a simple task. The object of the questions that have been asked so far... The questions are incredibly problematic, from a metaphysical standpoint.
As for interest in the job...Interest in a job about which nothing is known, not even pay, except that exacting standards must be met. No idea of danger or pay, except for a Johnson's promise that it shouldn't be too much trouble, and possible future work. Enticement is lacking. That said, a personal meeting, in the flesh would be easier. I will look like this." an image of a handsome elf flickers into being for an instant or two. Then the image of a bar, name clearly visable, for a few dozen seconds. "Fifteen minutes alright?"

"Seattle Singles" Public Chat Node
Saturday 8/23/70 04:11:30
Smith
PAN - Hidden

A physical meeting was the last thing Smith expected Error to suggest. The offer was enough to renew his interest in the hacker. <<Call it 30. I've got to put the girl to bed.>> Smith's icon nodded in Angel's direction, again. <<Maybe after I get a few drinks in you, you'll stop over-thinking things, and we can get to know one another, properly.>>

His icon smiled, then disappeared.

Back on the bus, Adam did his usual power-off, reboot, respoof combination. It didn't completely remove the dirty feeling that came along with illegal matrix activity, but it helped. Angel came to a few moments later, and Smith tried to make sure she was going to be okay, and Angel tried to make Smith believe her. They eventually exchanged more goodbyes, and parted ways. Hopefully, Smith thought, it would not be for the last time.

The ball was in her court, now.

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:41:00
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

ERROR 1406 made a point of being slightly early, merely so the Johnston would not have to flag him down and draw attention to the two of them. So he took a seat at a booth near the back, where he was clearly visible from the door. It was busy, and responsibly upper class. ERROR waited

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:45:30
Smith
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID for the bartender)

Smith showed up to the bar, looking only slightly out of place. His suit fit in, but looked like it had been worn for a while. Actually, compared to the other guys kicking back drinks at this time of the night, his suit looked pretty fresh. He was younger than most of them, that was for sure. He didn't do anything to draw undo attention to himself, but when he entered, his presence drew more than a few eyes his way. He made his way first to the bartender, where he made smalltalk long enough that Error had just turned his attention to the next guy to enter, when Smith took his seat in their booth - with a drink in each hand, sliding one across the table.

"Nice place, omae."

He took a sip of his own drink.

"So, before I logged, it sounded like you finally had some questions for me. Where would you like me to start?"

His response was partially to remind the man that he had offered him a few chances to ask about the job, partially to make sure he was comfortable talking here, and partially to make sure this was even the same guy he had talked to.

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:45:12
ERROR 1406
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID)

ERROR smiled.
"The runners and Johnson, and knowing them, is more valuable then the details about the job. Yet that is already agreed upon. People are harder to read online. It takes a little face-to-face interaction to understand someone." As ERROR spoke, he let the wall of his personality loosen, and become pourous. But this time, instead of flowing into code, he let those minds around him in, specifically that of this Johnson.

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:45:33
Smith
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID for the bartender)

Smith nodded, "Agreed. I always prefer dealing with people face-to-face. So, you'd like to know about me, and I'd like to know about you. That seems fair, but you didn't seem so eager to facilitate that earlier. What do you say about a little tit-for-tat?" He made a little gesture with his hands. "I'll answer your questions about the team, and how I run things, if you answer mine about yourself - and the first time you go all Zen on me, the conversation is over." He smiled, apologetically. "I mean, its cool that you're into metaphysical stuff. That's exactly the sort of hobby or interest that makes you stand out - but I'm not really interested in someone who takes that to unreasonable extremes."

"If I ask you to dig up some data for me, and you come back and tell me that you don't think there is a difference between true and false data - I can't really use you, see? I need someone who not only understands the difference, but understands that someone on the team might die if his information is inaccurate. "

"So, how about, since I bought the first round of drinks, and you dodged all of my earlier questions, I ask the first question, now?"

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:48:26
ERROR 1406
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID)

"To reassure, true and false data are in a separate ontological category from identity, one in which absolutes do exist. There is a concrete correlation between data and the phenomenal world. The same cannot be said for identity and personality." ERROR's demeanor in person is strikingly different from how he acts online. While online, his words were instant, here every word was carefully and painstakingly selected. Smith is also quick to realize that there is something a bit funny about the face. Something just bugging him... its a hologram. ERROR 1406's real face, and head, is hidden inside a hologram, but the projector (projectors?) are no where to be seen. "Thanks for the round. For the future, the house will cover the drinks. Ask away."

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:45:33
Smith
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID for the bartender)

Smith smiled, "I'll make the first one easy, I hope. Do you have a lot of close friends?" Smith's demeanor also seems a lot different than his online persona. However, it appears to be in the opposite direction. Online, his words were carefully selected, and often unnecessarily stuffy and verbose. In person, he seems more laid back. His words aren't as carefully selected, but that gives them, perhaps, a more endearing quality.

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:46:13
Smith
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID)

"Surprising that the question is asked. No close friends." ERROR says, his holographic face displaying an ironic grin. "What makes the team so damn special?"

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:46:55
Smith
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID for the bartender)

Smith took a few seconds to consider his answer. "That's a complex question, but I'll give it my best shot. I would say there are a lot of things that make it unique - personalities, styles, etc - but that's not really what you're looking for, I don't think. What you're going to find, with us, that you're not going to find anywhere else is 'family'. Most of us don't have anyone else to look out for them, so we look out for each other. In a lot of cases, the members of this team owe each other their lives, and there is a good level of mutual trust and respect that allows us to work together well, without all of the hassles and ass-covering that cuts away at the efficiency of a lot of teams in our line of work. This is why trust is so important to me. I've got to trust you, and the rest of the team needs to trust you - and you need to trust us, too. If we're functioning at less than 100% because we're looking over our shoulders, or looking out for number one, then we lose our edge. That isn't something I am going to allow to become a problem, so it is important that whoever I bring on to replace Angel fits in, from the beginning, and is going to be able to put the teams needs before their own." Error's empathy software does not detect any of the usual cues for falsehoods, flags a few pieces as things he might be unsure of, himself, and points out some body language that suggests that Smith might be talking things up a little bit. What he is saying sounds a little bit like a sales-pitch - which is what it is.

"You don't have a lot of close friends, you say, but I hope that isn't intentional. If you work with us, you will - and if you hope to keep us at a distance, this isn't the team for you. If having more close connections is something you'd like to have, this is the place to find those."

"You will also find 'opportunities', but I think this is something you might find in other teams, but I think, here, if you're interested in professional growth, and opportunities to take a real proactive role in the outcome of our work - you will be pleased. We're a collection of specialists, so you're going to be given a lot of leeway on how you handle things that fall into your niche. I do my best to manage, and lead, but when it comes down to the details, you will have a lot of room for making low-level decisions, and even suggesting team-wide strategy. This is why creativity is important to me. It doesn't matter how skilled you are, if you don't know where and when to best apply those skills. I don't have the bandwidth to micromanage everyone, and even if I did, I don't have the expertise or experience necessary to do so effectively. We do help each other out, though. You might be able to suggest some key upgrades to our equipment, or I might be able to put you in contact with some people who can get you good deals on the things you need to do your job. You might even find a good opportunity for us, as a team, and pass that along. I have found that the people on my team prefer to be left to solve their problems in their own way, but can appreciate a hand when someone is willing to help. That's not to say that I won't have any advice, or anything, but I think you'll find that I am a very easy-going boss, so long as things are going well." Again, Error readout suggests that this isn't as idealic a picture as the man in the suit is painting. There are some facts being left out, some situations being glorified, and a lot of hypotheticals. Particularly, it notes a subtle inflection or emphasis on the last line - suggesting that when things go bad, Smith might not be as hands-off as he's suggesting.

"Again, you didn't show a lot of interest in personal growth, earlier - but with your average team, there isn't a lot of room to climb that ladder, or influence how things get done. In a lot of cases, someone in your position might be working with new people on every job, and convincing everyone to do things you way, over and over again, or having to adapt to new styles that other people impose on you isn't really an ideal situation. I'm hoping that you will find the alternative I am offering to be preferable. If not, and you'd rather someone tell you exactly what they want you to do, and simply carry out that order, I would say this wouldn't be a good fit for you."

"Lastly, I would say you're going to find it 'profitable'. From the beginning, my vision has been to create a situation that is mutually beneficial to everyone involved. That's a little easier for some of the other team members, because we've been able to contribute to their personal lives, directly, but our bank accounts have not been hurting lately, either - and that's probably the bottom line, for someone walking into this situation blind. Let's be honest, I might have connections, and might be able to land a big gig, but I'm not going to be able to turn that opportunity into a profit without a full team. A lot of times, someone in my position might contract out to either random teams, willing to do work for just about anyone, or to random individuals, who have no established team. I have found that it is a lot easier to keep a full team in my back-pocket, ready at a moments notice, and who all know how to work effectively together. From your standpoint, more of the money gets passed on to you, without having to compete for it, and from my standpoint, I don't have to worry about scheduling conflicts, or time or energy wasted when a new team takes time to 'gel'. " He put his fingers together - signifying the team coming together. "You know, except this one time while you're being introduced." He winked.

"As far as profit goes, I'm not really out to do much more than pay my bills, cover my expenses, and to have some party-money left over for the weekend. We've been splitting payment pretty evenly, except under special circumstances. We all need this money, for various personal reasons, and if it keeps everyone happy, and working hard, I have found it helps to offer profit-sharing - I was able to negotiate a bonus recently, after establishing a strategic partnership mid-run, and that got split, right down the middle. What this means for you, is that you should be making a bit more than if you're going through a middle man. By the time a fixer takes his cut, and the Johnson low-balls the team, only a fraction of the money originally set aside for the job makes its way into the hands of the guys doing the work. I figure, you guys are working as hard as I am, and as long as we come in under budget, you should be rewarded for maintaining exceptional efficiency." Here, Error's analysis gives a strange result. It appears that the young man is holding something back. His eyes and manner of speech indicated there he had more to say on this matter, but that he chose not to at the last minute - leaving a sort of incomplete picture. It also bears the same signs of something that is being talked up, as the previous statements.

All in all, Smith seems to honestly think that these 'virtues' would be benefits of working for him (as opposed to any of the thousands of other Johnsons who need hackers in this city), but his confidence on that point is less than 100%. He also seems to be playing the points up, in hopes of generating interest, but stops short of outright lying. The last bit, in particular, seems to leave the impression that he is not telling the whole story, and that their finances are a bit more complicated than a simple even-split.

Having taken some time to talk at length about the topic, and answer the man's questions, Smith proceeds, hoping his earlier reference to the game-theory he intends to employ will prompt his partner into answering the questions in more detail.

"So, it seems only fair for me to ask what makes you so damned special?"

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:48:59
ERROR 1406
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID)

"The terse...'zen'.... answers given previously were not found satisfying. Yet those answers had at least as much truth to them as a salespitch. Possibly rehearsed? A lack of satisfaction is mutual. A desire for honesty, being a 'team player' and functioning as a family- close friends, anyways- has been voiced. So act with the required level of honesty and openness first, to prove trustworthiness, and the example will be follow, tit-for-tat." ERROR's holographic eyes lock onto the Johnston's. There is no anger in his voice, however there is an edge there- frustration perhaps. Impatience?

Uptown Bar
Saturday 8/23/70 04:49:30
Smith
PAN - Passive (Displaying Fake ID for the bartender)

It always seemed to take a while for Error's words to click together for Smith. When they did, his brow furrowed, and then returned to normal. It was brief, but the empathy software caught it, and expertly highlighted it for Error. Smith's expression changed into a grin - something the software flagged as genuine amusement, but a thin veil over his annoyance.

"Really? You don't think its a little early in the game to be calling my bluff?" He shook his head, laughing. "You are zero-for-five my friend. If you want to go home on a hunch, I'll let you." He shrugged, "No skin off my back - as it stands, I don't want to work with you - I'm pretty much only entertaining this, as a favor to Angel, and out of morbid curiosity, I guess." Error was aware that this was not entirely true, either - except for the part about not wanting to work with him, which was unfortunately a genuine statement.

Smith took one more long swig of his drink, as though he did not expect to be around long enough to finish it. "For the record - yeah, it was a bit of a pitch. You said you hadn't heard anything to get you excited about working for me, so I gave you what you asked for. Rehersed? Sure, a few times, in my head, on the way over here - but at least I thought about the question, and answered it. Did I tell you something about my team, as was our agreement? Absolutely. Did I tell you everything about my team? Fuck no - but you're going to have to live with that. There are a hell of a lot of things that I'm not going to tell you about my operation, before you're a part of it, and even a few things I'll still keep to myself if you are. I told you what was important, and I didn't lie. If it did not impress you, that's your loss, not mine."

Smith pointed across the table. "See, the thing is, you don't get to decide what the 'required' levels of honesty and openness are - I do."

"So, since you brought up tit-for-tat.... Have you given me what I have asked for? Have you thought about any of my questions before giving me some incomprehensible and meaningless answers? Have you held up your end of our agreement, and told me something, anything, about yourself - even if you kept a few details private?" At this point, he was shaking his head, and Error empathy software began flagging those comments as hypothetical, and warning that the conversation was headed quickly in the wrong direction. A number of suggestions were thrown up for the user, but all assumed the user desired a successful transaction to take place, and was willing to back down to obtain that.

"I don't think that you have. And, unfortunately for you, its my opinion that matters." One more drink from his glass, left it with little more than a shallow layer of backwash, and entirely too much ice, in the glass. "I've given you more than enough chances to show me that your shitty attitude isn't a character-flaw."

"I'll tell you what, though. Since I'm a nice guy, and want to part on good terms. I'll select just one more criteria on which to assess you - an important one. 'How well you handle rejection'." With that, he produced a couple of twenties from his pocket - put them under his glass and stood up.

As he did, he left a break in his torrent of comments - which Error's empathy software suggested would be the time to say something to change his mind. Whether or not that was actually the wisest course of action, depended entirely on which outcome Error was hoping for. It also made it clear that Smith did not seem to intend to stick around for a response.