Hafiz hits SEND on his phone and steps away from the crowd. A few minutes later he comes back over paler than a goth-girl at a rave.

"Jaron is alive. The doctors have him sedated at the moment to sleep off the worst of the after-effects from surgery. He should be able to take visitors in about twelve hours. The bullets did enough damage to his spinal cord and nervous system that the doctors aren't sure if he will be able to walk without cyberimplantation...I know Jaron won't do it...

Biomage looks at the old man and says, "Odin.. yes... I remember now. Odin is the ruler of the Norse gods. The god of war, poetry, wisdom, and death. All-Father is one of the names he is known by because he is said to be the father of all of the Norse gods. He rules Valhalla, the warriors' heaven if you like. It's the place where all true warriors go to wait for the doomsday battle, or something like that."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Biomage looks at Hafiz and says, "At least he's alive. Why won't he do cyberware?"

Raising his right arm and pulling up the sleeve, he extends his hand and then turns his palm upward, followed by pointing all of his fingers upward. As he does so, he says, "Cyberware's not so bad - once you get used to it. And the best part is...

With a sudden shcick! noise, 5 razors sprout from his fingertips, "...it can come with added benefits."

Biomage retracts the razors and continues. "If Jaron is awakened, he may be able to find an alternative; bioware or cutting edge cloning for instance. If not, maybe the docs can give him a set of wired reflexes, along with the nervous system replacements, so that he has more time to react if he's ever ambushed again. He's a rich man. Surely he can find a delta clinic, and if so, he might barely even notice the 'ware, save for his regular maintenance checkups. You tell him I said that. Tell him I said to be strong. And you be strong too, Hafiz. This isn't over until it's over."

Jack tilts the brim of his hat up just enough to peer at Biomage from under the brim, but he shakes his head and keeps his comments to himself.

Out of the case comes another, smaller case, this one holding a roll of micro-electronics tools. He folds his long legs up and begins poking and prodding at the 'trode net, checking the modifications.

BioMage:

Hafiz shrinks back a little as the blades spring out of your fingers. You can almost visibly see him closing in on himself once again. "Mr. Falcone simply doesn't like it--it itches. He got the minimum necessary to interact with the world and doesn't want anymore."

Jack:
You remove the casing with little difficulty and start examining the internal workings of the trode net. The first thing you notice is that while most of the trodes are designed to act on cortical stimulation, one of them appears to be an induction datajack convertor. The trode net also has a wireless uplink component to replace the cord that would traditionally run away from the net. Lastly, there is some form of storage device--perhaps firmware that seems excessive to you.

Curious, he digs a little deeper, running his deck on cold ASIST to avoid any feedback or actual nerual interation with the trode net as he plugs it in his deck, downloading whatever information is in the firmware and surfing into the wireless uplink to see where the signals were being sent.

Jack:
The world moves sluggishly around you. In general the logon to your deck is done before you can even blink your eyes, with the cold ASIST you take two breaths before it is fully ready. As power courses through the veins of the trode net, you see a cellular connection made to the Matrix. The call goes to routing service after routing service and you lose track of it amidst the vast shell game.

The information oozes into your deck, incrementally filling your offline storage. As you watch it pulse and beat in time with your own heart, transferring more and more into your offline storage, you almost lose track of the time. Your internal chronometer registers fifteen seconds as having passed when you look at the icon signalling transfer completed. The trode net downloaded 3500 MPs to your deck--you are sure that some of that had to have been transferred over the cellular link.

Calisto/Jester
After kicking her clothes around in the street for a few minutes to pick up the grime and stench of the street dwelling junkies, Calisto changes into them. The old man and the younger woman head out into the seedier districts of Tacoma.

Tensions shift in the air from Mafia protection rackets to Triad gambling and brothels as you move through the barrio looking for a "fix." There is a moment of tension when Triad dealers realize you want to buy from their competition but one look at the old man with a gun under the leather jacket informs them that today may not be the best day to pick fights.

Stumbling past a few chip-heads, you find a dealer with the good stuff.

Fifty nuyen of hard currency later the two professionals make their way back to the van. Seattle Hoppers proves once again that they can take you anywhere at anytime with your security guaranteed.

Trixie:
Once again you return to your place of power. The evershifting topography of the Matrix has healed over the scab that was once Jaron's PLTG. A cyber-brothel has filled the spot on the horizon where Falcone's "Little Seattle" once stood. You feel your digital self become immaterial as you start to ghost through systems, jumping from host to host in an effort to track down Mennon. Chatrooms and online forums provide the usual choice bits buried amidst flame wars and blather.

Taking the road less traveled leads you to the heart of Italy. The Papal States RTG is a horrible juxtaposition of Catholic imagery and traditional matrix icons. Digging deeper you find the info you needed on Mennon.
Monsignur Joseph Mennon, age forty-four. Born and raised in Rome, he was a self-proclaimed techno-phobe until five years ago he had a vision from God. Since then, Mennon has been on a personal crusade to purify the Matrix. The digital realm in his mind is the next battleground where the Army of Light must vanquish the forces of Evil.

Biomage shrugs and says to Hafiz, "It's up to him. Be calm. How did you and Jaron meet?"

Biomage:

"I came into Jaron's service when I was eighteen. Over about six years, I earned his respect and trust. Then, after the accident, Jaron was the only person who didn't take advantage of my amnesia. He warned me that people would come and say they were my friend, but I would need to be careful. He helped me to remember who I was, he told me about the first day I came and worked for him, our regualr routines, everything. Now I work as his personal chauffeur, by air, land or sea. Jaron gave me advances on my pay so I could afford a few personal vehicles and modifications. So I work for him and when he lets me, I go out and earn some extra money as a rigger."

Trixie:

You try to put pieces together in your head but ralize you are missing that kernel of truth that will lay everything together for you. Narrowing your search to the local Papal grids rather than scouring back across all the chains of possibilities between Seattle and here, you begin turning over rocks and trying to find the secrets they conceal. Soon enough, it has paid off.

Mennon was the target of a reversed hate crime just before his "vision." He had been a strong proponent for excommunicating all the "Children of the Matrix" labelling them demon-spawn and Satan's Get. After that, it seems that a couple tribes of Otaku got together and pooled their resources into destroying the priest. Not able to find enough incriminating material digitally on him, the Otaku erased his SIN and a pack of twenty or so beat him into a coma. It was during his recovery that the messengers of God came and tasked him.

Knowing that you have secured the final piece of Mennon in your mental puzzle, you begin the search for the All-Father. Doors are slammed shut, shades pulled down as you breathe his name across the Matrix. Trying a different method, you translate the name into a dozen foreign languages and course through the digital realms of Asia, Europe, Africa and South America to no avail.

There are times when you would almost swear you are being followed, menace beating upon you from every ounce of the Matrix. You begin evading your tails, sending out digital copies of yourself to lure them out of hiding. A jester springs up in front of you at the last second and hands you a rattle with a dead rat wired onto it. As you jack into your meatbody, the rattle dissipates into code and downloads to your internal memory. You have an address for a disappearing SAN.

Jack scrambles to record the information on the call, noting routing nodes and rountines as fast as he can, almost cursing as he loses the trail. He stores the information he was able to gather on the routes, storing it for later investigation, and jacks out completely.

He tugs open the thin, transparent flexi-screen for the deck, using the deck in total tortoise mode to access the data that was dumped into online storage.

Trixie gasps as her body jerks to life and her arm springs up to rip the datacord from her temple. While everyone was going about their bussiness, no one had noticed the profuse sweating that she'd been doing for the last thirty minutes. She sits there for a moment, panting, trying to catch her breath. Finally she looks up, her eyes bloodshoot.

"That was scarey."

Slowly she stands on shakey knees and wobbles over to fridge to get a bottle of water. She takes a seat at a table where she can give her report to everyone...

"This Mennon guy is a messed up cookie. Born and raised in Rome. He spent most of his life in the church as a full blown technophobe, speaking out against the dangers the world was facing. Things got ugly when my kind showed up. He said the Otaku were demon-spawn and drek like that and went on a crusade to purge us from the world. Kids that can talk to the Matrix without a deck just gotta be Satan's little helpers. Anyhow, a few tribes got together and desided to make his life a living hell. They deleted his SIN and then found him and beat the life out of him. Problem is, they didn't quite finish the job, he spent some time in a coma and came too with a Message from God. He flip flopped. Now he is a technophile on a mission from God to cleanse the matrix. He's been at it for the last five years."

She takes another long drink of water before continuing.

"All-Father. I haven't seen anything like this since... well, its been a while. I couldn't find drek on it. I felt like where ever I went I was followed and they were a step ahead of me the whole way, ready to close a door or kill a datafile. Problem is, I don't know who 'they' are. Well, I have an idea, but I'm not sure. My best guess so far is that we are in fact dealing with AI."

She shivers.

"It may even have an Otaku tribe working with it. Or worse yet, it could be working with Mennon. I can't be sure of anything yet. Here is the killer though. Just as I was getting ready to jack out, an icon appeared and threw a file at me. Its an address for a Disappearing SAN.

All this info is fresh. I haven't taken the time to mull over it yet. Give me a couple hours to go over this data, cross referance it with what I've got for the doctor, Falcone, and Falcone's enemies. I should be able to put together a good picture at what we're looking at."

Jack:

You access the file stored into your offline memory and the screen is filled with random characters. The file is obviously encrypted. Sighing you cue up the decrypt utility and let the computer work at the problem.

Biomage breaks off his conversation with Hafiz and says to Trixie in his normal intense voice, "You gonna follow it? If we are dealing with an AI, how dangerous is it? I'll watch over you the next time you jack in. I can use a medkit like a professional, and I can heal you magically if the supplies run out, provided you aren't hurt too much."

"That would be great. Cause yeah... I think I'm gunna give it a shot and see what happens.

I.. I've dealt with AI before, so I'm aware of the danger, and it'll cause me to be more than a little careful. Jack, do you want to ride along with me?"

0600 Day 2:

Moments pass in the space between heartbeats as Trixie lays out her ideas for what you are facing.

Jack:
The computer flashes at you that it has finished decrypting the data a few moments later. It all appears to be program coding, and one of the most complex ones you have ever seen.

Jack glances up with a startled "Huh?", tipping the brim of the hat back so that he can actually see Trixie's face from where he sits crosslegged on the floor.

"Sure 'nuff, Trixie, I'll go with. Sure wouldn't send ya' in there alone."

Returning to his deck, Jack initializes the massive Programming Suite, using the tools designed to build and compile code modules to break the current program down and step through it's function and design.

Trixie gets up and walks over to stand behind Jack's shoulder, watching him work.

"Whatcha workin' on?"

Jack:

The deck does its best to tear apart the code and reveal the pearls within. It begins by mapping the pathways of command forming a trid-rendering on the flat screen. You've never seen anything like this design before, obvious custom work by a pro. The rendering engine stops with a double-helix shape.

You're not sure what the program does exactly, but it is obvious the programmer took a lot of time making sure that it would have a clean rendering . There are keystrokes of additional coding laid down just to complete the form and maintain continuity.

Calisto moves through the hangar, wiping her face clean with a wet rag. "Here's the BTL Jack. Let me know what you find." She moves to a couch and slumps into it. "Hafiz - any word on Jaron's condition?"

Jack shakes his head at Trixie, peering at the screen.

"Ah have no idea. Look here," he points to a second window with the raw code scrollling across it.

"These lines of code were added just so the modules would look like this when rendered in a programming enviornment." He indicates the double helix.

"ah'm not sure what the program actually does though. Ah might be able to simulate enough of an enviornment to run it hooked into the 'trode net, but ah'd need a mainframe."

He glances up as Callisto strolls in, reaching up to snatch the small sliver of silicone out of the air as she tosses it. He turns it in his hand a couple of times, and then shrugs, plugging it into the deck.

"Anyone know if they're one-shots? Ah'm going to see if I can make a copy without triggering the protections to delete it."

Trixie stares at the screen for a while, her eyes scanning the lines of code. She frowns a bit in concentration. Looking at the other screens final rendering, her eyes go a bit wide.

"Thats some sweet codework. Classy. I'll throw out a guess that its some sort of wiz Agent or at least something similar to it. What else would render to DNA?"

Calisto:

Hafiz looks up at you, wrinkles his nose slightly and nods.

"Yes, he woke up about an hour ago, but isn't allowed visitors until nine o'clock."

"Ok, good to know." Calisto rises from the couch and heads for the shower to wash off the street smell. "Jack make a copy of the code and I'll get the info you need. List out what you need to know about the code." Her voice is cut short as the door closes and the sound of water running begins.

Trixie lets her last question hang on the air, then follows up with another for Jack.

"What should we get to work on first? Getting some mainframe time to work with this code, or checking out that address I was given."

Calisto emerges from the bathroom, drying her hair with a small towel. "I can get the mainframe time and the code figured out. I'll just need to take a trip into downtown for a bit. If you and Jack want to check out the address, feel free. Just make sure someone is out here watching you both." She walks towards Trixie and lowers her voice to an intimate level. "Are you going to be ok? I know very little about the matrix but this seems overly dangerous. I trust you to know your limits but I don't need anyone taking insane risks." She seems to struggle to make a contection with Trixie. It's clear she is not used to forging bonds with people.

Trixie gives a small nod in return and quietly replies, "I've done this before."

She glances over at Jack, "You got hitcher ports so someone can come along for the ride and know if we get in trouble?"

To Calisto, "Where are you taking the code? And see if you can have a copy made, so we can keep an original and mess with a copy."

Calisto seems reassured. "I have a well-placed friend with access to some serious computer power. I agree that we should make a copy and keep one here for us. I asked Jack to prep a copy with notations on what we need from the code." She moves back to the bathroom and puts the towel up to dry. "Let me know when I can get the copy."

"As long as he can be trusted. A lot. This could be something that really blows up in our face."

Jack, I'm gunna go in now and watch the SAN to see how often the door opens and closes. I want to get an idea of how long we'll have inside the system before getting dumped. If you need to talk to me, use the normal contact number."

With that, Trixie sits back down near the jack, takes one late look around and with a sigh, plugs in and slumps over.

Biomage grabs a chair and sets up his medkit on the floor. He keeps an eye on Trixie's physical state using astral perception.

Ehh.. she better not get herself banged up. Let's hope this goes down nice and smoothly.

Trixie:

Your skin glistens with a healthy glow as you transition back to the digital realms. The rat-wired scepter pulls at your hand but you keep it under control as you walk into the Greater Seattle Directory, a large open air theater with seating for millions. You call out various host names, each bringing to life an actor to strut upon the stage and give you the vital statistics of their company--LTG adresses and the like. Slipped into the middle of the maelstrom of names you add "Cronostye Teams", the name of the host for your SAN. No actor comes out, but you continue calling a list of others to hide the true reason you were here.

Despite the inability to track down information on the host, you continue along the path that the rodent pulls you. Winding your way across the Pacific Rim, the rat stops you in a run-down section of Tokyo where the coding is beginning to come apart and you can see the cobbled together bits of coding to maintain system cohesion.

And you wait...

Nanoseconds seem to pass like days while you wait for a door to appear
out of the system.

The rat waves at you.

Then system magic occurs and the same Fool from before walks through the wall into the alley. As the wall closes in behind him, he bends down and jams a bit of debris into the closing gap. He smiles at you and springs pop out of his soles as he bounces away.

The Fool returns a moment later, strings of data falling off of him like candy. He rips the gap back open to accomodate his size and enters the building yet again. His arm extends into the alley, holding the door open for you.

The rat waves at him.

Biomage:

Five minutes pass without any major spurts of blood or dark spikes signifying damage coursing through your companion's body and soul.

Jack tilts his head up at Callisto as he settles down next to Trixie.

"It's gonna take a bit of time to make a copy of the chip, so it'll have to wait. Ah wanna go take a look at this SAN with Trix here."

He slots a hitcher jack into one of the ports, sliding it over towards Biomage. "If you want to take a look over our shoulder and see what's up, use this. You can't get hurt with it, just so you know."

He jacks in, gathering his items from the small log cabin that represents his deck, loading every active program he thinks he might need before triggering a cellphone out of thin air and tucking it into his ear.

"Trixie? Ah'm in, where are you at, sweetheart?"

Trixie eyes the wall with caution. She slowly approaches it, while receiving Jack’s message. She opens her hands and a small white dove appears. The next instant it is gone to find Jack and lead him here in a hurry.

Trying to stall for a moment, Trixie analyzes the Fool who holds open the wall. She inches closer, slowly and carefully...

"Who are you?"

Looking at Jack quizzically, Biomage says, "Thanks, chummer, but I'll pass. I can watch her physical state better from here, and yours too, if you're planning on jacking in."

Biomage positions the chair between the feet of the two deckers, so that he is able to watch both with his astral perception. He sits back to monitor them both.

At a crossroads huh? I wonder how the journey down this road will be.

Trixie:

"We cannot talk here, come inside or meet me in front of the home of the infant-king."

Your senses extend towards the Fool as he makes his proclamation. He is a decker, obviously performing a minor system operation to keep the SAN from closing on him.

"I will come inside, but I await a friend who seeks knowledge with me. He will be here in a nanosec... My name is Trixie, by the way."

Trixie:

"This door must be closed. I want to help you against...him...meet me in Tokyo, that is where I can most help you."

The Fool turns back to the building, steps inside, and slowly pulls his arm in with him.

"Wait! Where in Tokyo!?"

Trixie moves foward and attempts to hold the wall open just long enough to get an answer from the Fool

Trixie:

You dart forward and your hands have trouble finding the edge of the door.

"Across from the home of the Infant-King," the Fool's voice carries over the narrowing gap of the door.

Trixie lets the door slip closed and she steps back from it. She takes a seat, lotus style, and waits for her little birdy to lead Jack to her.

Calisto sighs at the site of Jack slumped and in the matirx. She walks over and pulls back her sleeve revealing a small wrist computer. Taking a moment she fishes out a cable and connects it to his cyberdeck. Grabbing the trode net she slips it on. Jack, please transfer a copy of the code to my computer so I can get it looked at.

Jack half-cocks his head over his shoulder, feeling the sudden other presence in on his deck.

"Sure 'nuff, ma'am." He reaches into the pocket of his duster, pulling out the chip, and folds his hands over it. Spreading his fingers out, he displays the copy of the chip, and he slides it back into his other pocket, transferring the copy over to Callisto's poc-sec.

Slipping the net off she stretches and disconnects the computer from the deck. "I'll be back as soon as I can. When I get back we should plan to go see Jaron and see what's next." She moves out of the hangar and slides into her car. Reaching under the front passenger seat, she pulls out a small case and tosses it on the seat. Clicking it open, she pulls out a courier envelope and slides the computer into it. Sealing it up, she takes out a pen and addresses the package to Mr. Toriyama and adds an urgent label.

"Hey Calisto , hold on their darlin. Remember the rules, no one goes anywhere solo. Isn't that what you said? Let me grab my jacket and I'll ride shotgun."

The old man slips his leather bomber jacket over his shoulders.

"Damn weather," he mutters as he carefully (and painfully) sits into Calisto's car.

"The cold weather always hurts my leg, damn shoddy workmanship."

"Fair enough." She smiles as she wheels the car out.

Biomage sits back and waits, continuing to watch both Trixie and Jack.

Calisto/Jester:

You work through the morning commute, carried through the arteries of the city by the controlled pulse of the GridGuide systems. Pulling in front of the downtown branch of Cutting Edge Courriers, the two of you step into the hushed calm of recycled air and synth-plants.

A courrier does a quick double take upon seeing the corporate executive's name but promises the package will be delivered immediately.

Taking a moment to grab his coat as he races out the door and across the street, the Japanese teen charges headlong into traffic with the practiced recklessness that only comes from stupidity and youth. The boy vanishes into the Yamatetsu building.

Ten minutes later, the youth is running back through traffic, dodging buses yet again. He smiles vigorously as he throws his coat back onto the rack. Opening his courrier sack, he pulls out a small envelope and the wrist computer.

The young courrier places them both on the counter before you.

"Thanks." Calisto gathers the envelope and computer. She slides back into her car and unseals the envelope.

Calisto:

Smoothly written kanji is revealed as you break the seal on the envelope. Mr. Toriyama's penmanship is immediately recognizable from its crisp lines and economy of stroke.

I will do my best to unravel your mystery. Be well and may your ancestors watch the paths you walk.

Jack:

A small white dove perches on your shoulder, barely making a mark on your heavy duster. It looks from you to the western horizon and the perpetual setting sun that backlights the metaphor of your log cabin.

Biomage:
Two deckers jacked in and still no bleeding from their ears.

Calisto quickly tucks the letter into her coat and straps the computer back onto her wrist. Quikcly looking around, she pulls the car back into the downtown flow of traffic. "One thing off the shopping list."

Trixie stands as she spots Jack enter the alley, lead by her Dove. Before he can even open his mouth, she spurts out, "The Joker met me here again, the SAN is his aparently. He wants to meet up over by the Emperial Palace. Come on!"

She reaches out and grabs Jack by the hand and the two fly through the Tokyo LTG, landing on the steps of the Palace. Trixie reaches out her cyber senses to see if the Fool is anywhere to be seen.

Calisto/Jester:

You pull back into the morning commute and head for Bellevue. Becoming one with the nervous system of Seattle, you travel through downtown corridors like the axons of nerves, passing through intersections which function as the synaptic clefts being handed from one set of sensors and cameras to another.

Taking the 405 south, you don't see any tails and head back into Tacoma. Catching the 18 to the 509, you double check. Feeling that you have survived without a physical tail you head back to the hangar.

Trixie/Jack:

You come to rest on the steps of the Imperial Palace. Several large samurai block your path into the Palace itself. Sararimen race down the street, their heads bowed and gazes averted from the palace. This certainly doesn't look to be a place for garutachi to meet.