>> checking
she verifies again the nearby icons, and in particular if Huge has any.

Huge does not have any icons on him, nor any electromagnetic radiation of any sort.

Fagin practically spins into the Stuffer Shack parking lot with a screech. He drives a customized Hyundai Shin-Hyung and he drives it fast. The car has a shiny black paint job with purple flourescent lighting that can be dialed up or down depending on how ostentatious Fagin is feeling. Downtown, he is discrete. Near Touristville, he is in full peacock mode. Inside the car, the music is bumping and the bass is jumping. (Jawsey recognizes the band as Psychedelic Phlegm, an old-school shadowband that used to rock the house at Weekend Eclipse in Denver back in the 2060s.)

Fagin goes fast. He walks fast, talks fast, and drives fast. Black market deliveries are a volume game: the more you deliver, the more you make. He acts like he's on Cram at all times, but it's possible that it's just some unholy combination of Betel and caffeine.

He practically bolts out of the Hyundai. He's a skinny elf with a pale complexion and a shock of red hair. He looks like an elf, hangs out with elves, and likes other elves, but it's entirely possible that he's an elf-poser. He looks 25, but so do most elves.

"Made it, with time to spare!" he says, checking his time on the commlink. "Here I come to save the DAAAAY!" he sings in a theatrical, booming voice. He punches his fist into the air and flies around the parking lot like Superman.

He rushes to the Americar so fast that you think he might smack into it like a hummingbird plowing into a pane of glass.

"Darling darling darling," he tells AM, seizing her hand and kissing it passionately. "We have to keep meeting like this!"

"My brother!" he says to Jawsey, clearly excited to see someone with elf-like features (even if Jawsey is fairly human-looking). He rushes over to shake Jawsey's hand enthusiastically. "Fagin's my name, delivering's my game. Telegit thelemsa!"

(This is a Sperethiel greeting that means, "You strictly follow the laws of nature." Jawsey knows that the proper response is, "Siselle. Thelemsa-ha." Which means, "It is the way of things. I follow the laws of nature very strictly.")

Belatedly, he notices Bobby, who is in no way hiding. "Oh, hey, man. Didn't see you there." Fagin has no handshakes or kisses for Bobby.

"Here it is!" he says, producing a little vial with a flourish. "Ta da! A little sip of Tarislar! Which is ironic because Tarislar means 'Remembrance' and this little baby is the exact opposite!

"Tasteless, odorless, flavorless! I guess 'tasteless' and 'flavorless' mean the same thing, don't they? No matter! A little drinky-drinky then a little sleepy-sleepy and voilà!"

He bows lowly with an exaggerated flourish.

"My payment, if you please! I have some Boostergum, SucroZoom, and Womp-Snappers with my name on them!" he says, indicated the Stuffer Shack. "With a Ludivenko Lovely Soya-Sloppies with the DoubleThick option to wash them all down!"

Bobby was very much relieved to be discriminated against by that elf, so he left the greeting at a "Hi, what's up?"
When the drug came out of the pocket, his eyes narrowed:
"That's the good stuff, ain't it? I'll leave you three to it then - I'll head in an get us some booze. I prefer to get a blackout the old fashioned way."

Bobby had been calculating on the way here how much alcohol the sloth would need for 2 promille - at 5 kilos and an r-factor or 0,7 and about 70% metabolization rate, he was looking for 8.5g of pure ethanol - or about 26 ml of 40% Wodka.
Considering, that sloths had a notoriously slow metabolism, he decided to add another margin, increasing the dose to 35 ml - which meant, he would be fine with one of the small 100ml bottles normally used for party mixers. Add some sillystraws and a funnel for the potentially tiniest frat party ever.

He entered the stuffer shack to do some shopping...

AM actually don't have 800 Nguyen laying around for a double price dose of their very expensive drug, so she makes the hand gesture to Bobby asking him to pay the guy. Aside from the pain of losing so much money when she is almost done with debt and perhaps can begin to think about buying stuff. She is very much satisfied with the expedient delivery.

"My hero, keep this level of service and I assure you we will meet again." she promises, leaving it obscure if she means the expedient delivery or the passion in his voice. She subtly asks Jawsey and Bobby to pay the guy with a small Sioux sign language gesture not wanting to embarrass herself for being short.

Catching AM's message before leaving, Bobby dug into his left pocket and unearthed a credstick. Holding it to the goggles he used as a commlink, he authorized 800 Nuyen and tossed it to the drug dealer. He headed off, before any more money demands could be made off him.

As he entered the Stuffer Shack, he enjoyed for a moment the relative calm of the place at night. He had been scavenging at those places now and then when he trained his rodent infiltration skills. The hum of the refrigerators and the steady malming of the turning soydogs on their heating element had a certain Zen like quality.

Reminding himself of what he wanted, he headed off into the recreational drug section.

Speed is both a virtue and a vice, as Fagin's various lovers can attest. When the transaction is complete, he does not linger. He zips into the store, makes his purchases, and rockets off into the night like a hummingbird on combat stims.

Inside the store, great tracts of neon and fluorescent lights that leech away color to make everything a uniform, dull gray indicate that you have arrived at the home of synth-alcohol, soykaf, porno-simchips, Holohayo 3D greeting cards, pneumatic fluid for your bike, cheap fetish trinkets for the magical wannabes, soygrits, and a full line of stuffers with no redeeming nutritional or social value. Yep, the good ol’ Stuffer Shack, home to a smell you can’t recognize and thousands of nuyen worth of stomach-rotting chow. As an added benefit, it’s open 24-7-365.

Every Stuffer Shack is like every other, so you could probably navigate the aisles with your eyes closed - even without assensing.

Behind the counter, an ARO identifies Vern, the store clerk. He's a dwarf with his eyes half-open, staring blankly at a holo-zine, no doubt wondering where his life is going, or went. Nearby is another dwarf, a female who must be Vern's girlfriend, who is nattering on about this new hair removal cream that Vern should use on his back. Through her extensive use of third-person storytelling, you determine that her name is Veronica.

In the frozen foods aisle, a nebbish human has opened a carton of pickle ice cream, stuck his finger in (for lack of a spoon) and is now giving it a taste. Such is the excellent clientele that this Stuffer Shack attracts.

In the pet food aisle, two twenty-something humans - punks by their dress, him in black, her in white - are making out. Apparently they are live-streaming it to P2.0 for inscrutable reasons of their own, but the live feed helpfully identifies them as Jake and Angie. While they're making out, Angie covertly shoplifts cat food by slipping the cans into her jacket pockets. Not particularly wise, given the livestream, nor the RFID tags plastered over every product, but not all criminals are good at crime.

Beer is available in the refrigerators along the rear wall of the store. Hard liquor is in locked cases behind the counter with Vern and Veronica.

Bobby ignored the streamers, but made sure to stay out of their camera's focus. Then again, the stuffer shack likely already had him on camera. So he grabbed a packet of straws, a mixing cup with milliliter measure and a little funnel, dedicated to refill petrol lighters.

Heading over to the locked case he gestured for Verns attention: "Hey there. One of the 100ml vodka bottles - the real stuff, not the synth shit."

Jawsey resolves to pay Bobby for half the cost of the drugs as soon as they have a moment for it. And then he catches Fagin as the dealer rushes back out of the store, to ask "Hey chummer, any chance you have any Psyche on you?" Jawsey has been rationing himself to one use a month, so as not to get too hooked on the stuff, but tonight has been oddly stressful, and he's still half expecting them to do something crazy, and net: the urge to feel closer to the astral is strong.

Of course, he'd probably look more cool and casual about that if he wasn't yelling it out of the window of their car, while sloth-sitting.

Vern looks at Bobby with a hollow gaze in his eyes. Bobby gets the distinct impression that if he were to switch over to the astral that Vern would be a husk, a shadow. But to avoid that unpleasant scenario, Bobby stays firmly rooted in the mundane world.

Vern wordlessly turns around and retrieves the requested items. Maybe it's Vern's apathy, or maybe it's Bobby's body hair, but he doesn't ask for any ID or age verification.

The transaction is completed quietly, if soullessly.

Outside in the parking lot, everything is the exact opposite. Fagin is physically incapable of doing anything wordlessly.

"Oh yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah," he says, nodding to Jawsey faster and more furiously than a woodpecker as he simultaneously slurps on his Ludivenko Lovely Soya-Sloppy.

"Not technically illegal so the margins are thin but you wouldn't believe how many corpers pulling an all-nighter will throw nuyen at you to get it to them ASAP! But for you?" A saucy wink. "You're a friend!"

Technically Jawsey isn't, but no sense in arguing the point if Jawsey's going to get what he wants.

"I'm here, you're here, just like The Wheel intended! ¥200 flat and not a nuyen more. Friend prices, no mark-up!

"Now that we're friends, you can tell your friends!" He slips Jawsey an ARO business card.

It was moments like this that made Bobby happy. Sure there were the hardships, getting shot at, having gangs out for your blood, spirits ransacking your memories and your soul or even the looming threat of a dragon coming after you for mucking up their plan too much. But at least his job allowed him to feel and know that he had a soul.
Vern might not have blinked if Bobby had lit the place on fire.

Collecting his party equipment, he made a hasty exit. They were - after all - on a tight schedule.

Once outside, he opened the vodka and sniffed. Bobby didn't drink more than the occasional beer, at least while he was in human form. Munching spoiled fruit when in bear form was a whole different cattle of fish - or belly full of fermenting fruit.

He waited until Jawsey was done with the drug dealer, before entering the car again and preparing the sloth drink.

<<Alright, a measure of soda to make it sweet and palpable, 35ml of vodka and the drug. I'll need a helping hand to keep him steady in the bag. Now, I'm going to cup his head in my left and insert the straw with the right. I seal his mouth and nose with my fingers, then you pour in the mixture with the funnel. Nothing to do but swallow on his part. But don't pour too fast and be ready to pinch the straw. We don't want to spill the drug. We don't have to worry about him vomiting things up. Sloths have a one way throat. Another reason I chose this form. Everyone ready?>>

(wrong thread, will use later)

>> I am afraid to ask how you became so knowledgeable about it, but just let us know what needs to be done. How long do we have?

<<It's all biology. Different animals are susceptible to different kinds of poisons - stuff that isn't dangerous to me in one form, can frag me up in another. Being a shapechanger with diversity is a fulltime occupation. I'm reading those journals and articles not just for my amusement, you know.

For now let's fill Huge up with alcohol and give the Leäl in about...>>
Bobby checked the clock
<<...20 minutes. That should be a safe window to make him forget everything that happened since he woke up.>>

The drive is smooth. AM keeps her eyes peeled - because Redmond after dark is not a nice place - but nobody disturbs you. Maybe Urubia will bring peace to the Barrens by keeping the gangs partying all the time. Bread and circuses.

Bobby's oddly-specific plan seems to work. Bobby and Jawsey tag-team the sloth, boozing it up by force. It does seem to take more than Bobby expected - perhaps there's an echo of Huge's dwarven physiology within his current form, or maybe Huge has been drinking for a lifetime and has established an impressive tolerance - but in the end it works. Huge pees a bit. In his defense, he did drink a lot of beer before bed, and there are fair questions about the conservation of matter during a transformation such as this one. Where did all the beer go? A question for the scholars and the philosophers, but some of it seems to have ended up on the Americar's floor.

The Leäl goes down Huge's hat just as your getting close to the garage. He's out like a light, slumped over in Jawsey's lap like a sleeping cat. He's warm but stinky.

You're at the garage and the clock is now ticking before Huge wakes up.

<<Alright, I'm going in gecko style and search for the comlink. Huge's living quarters are warded, so I'll have to try my luck with my ward breaker strike. Means, I'll have to take some reagents with me.
AM, can you manage an invisibility spell on me? Nothing I can do about ultrasound detection, except taking a particularly stealthy and unobstrusive form. I'll leave off the telepathy - you'll just have to watch out for the signal appearing. Jawsey, can you ready one of your spirits, just in case this whole thing goes sideways and I need a quick distraction while Trouble whisks me away?
Speaking of which, Trouble, I could really use your particular hiding power too.>>

Bobby took out a pouch from within his duffle bag and poured a measure of powdered crystal on to a bit of wrapping paper and put it outside on the pavement.
Then, once more he changed his shape.

Bobby turns into a New Caledonian gecko, perhaps 40cm long, in order to better accommodate the reagents in his mouth and the fetish attached to him with elastic. He can now lick his own eyeballs to keep them clean.

Invisible, he scampers across the parking lot. He finds Huge's long-sleeve t-shirt under the window, which is still open. Crawling up the side of the garage, he slips inside and finds Huge's sweat pants.

The Doberman is no longer staring at the window, thankfully. Perhaps the security spider reset the system, as the drone is now meandering about the garage in a patrol pattern.

Invisibility helps with the cameras but not with the drone's ultrasound sensors. To avoid them, Bobby climbs high on the wall and across the ceiling, reasoning that if he wasn't detected in the rafters before then he won't be now either.

Thankfully the office door is still open from when Huge opened it to come investigate the disturbance. Getting it open might have been complicated in Bobby's current form.

As Bobby nears the office, his mundane eyes can see a cot - military surplus, most likely - set up in the back room with a blanket and a pillow. His astral eyes can see the ward that protects the office / bedroom.

Bobby moved along the ceiling to the warded area. He was about to go through a ward - and if it wouldn't let him pass subtly, he was ready to just break it and go through while it rebuild itself.

AM casts the invisibility spell per Bobby's request, and Trouble uses the concealment power. ">>May the Trickster bless your actions".

Jawsey stands by, by sitting next to AM, waiting to hear any word passed on from Bobby. Meanwhile he still has his spirit from earlier, and it waits in the astral.

AM gets her MARK on the host and slips in.

Once inside, the host seems to have been reset. The coloration is no longer red, there are no klaxons blaring, the spider is no longer there, and the drone has resumed its previous patrol pattern.

This time AM hacks like she means it. She slips again - the trickster at work, no doubt - but quickly rights herself. Then she subverts all the cameras simultaneously with a single command.

Bobby thinks he sees a commlink sitting on a crate next to Huge's cot. Switching over to the astral, his vision gets fuzzy as the mana barrier blocks his view.

Bobby reaches out with the short, wide toes on his foot. He leans against the ward but it holds steady and does not give. Perhaps Bobby gives it a sour expression, or perhaps he's simply adjusting the reagents in his mouth to prepare for blasting the mana barrier to bits. He'll only have a few seconds to succeed, but Bobby knows he can get at least three spells in before the timer is up.

He begins with a casting that makes the barrier waver and crackle with astral energies. One more tap should shatter it.

Bobby refrained from attacking the barrier after he had seen its strength. This was a level of protection that he could overcome without being crass about it.

"All good things are three" seemed to be the motto for tonight, since on try three the barrier suddenly was as easy to pass through as wet spaghetti.
Bobby sent a last message to Trouble, before the barrier could cut their conenction: 'I see the link. I'm switching it on. AM should be able to see it shortly.'

Bobby scurried along the ceiling and let himself drop onto Huge's cot. The urge to just swallow the crystals was strong, but he had to endure just a moment longer. There it was, the commlink that could either absolve or doom the team. Time to find out which was which.

Bobby made a little dance on its surface and let some of the magical energy in the reagents flow into the dance.



Suddenly, Bobby understood the device as clearly as if he had build it himself - all its quirks, flaws and features laid bare in an instant. If it had been a deck he could have stood in for a hacker.
Switching it on was now not a question of intellect but pure instinct.

Once AM notices the link on, she quietly begins working on it, the only outside indication is a silly smile that she does uncontrollably from her hot simulation dream.


By the great spirits, she loves being so submerged in the matrix, especially when things do not try to kill her.

[color="#00FF00"][/color]Since all seems to be going smoothly for now, Jawsey messages AM <<Going to scrub signatures. Have Trouble pass along any messages if you need my spirit to do anything.>>

Then he slipped the surly bounds of flesh and dances through the astral, two-stepping through magical signatures until they are indistinguishable from the astral background.

While Jawsey is scrubbing, AM is hacking.

Bobby - magically enhanced - manages to find the commlink's BIOS menu and then modify settings ever-so-slightly to give AM an improved chance of success. The tiny crack in the commlink's Firewall is sufficient for AM to break the rest of the thing open. AM gets her mark and then starts sorting through the commlink files.

She finds two alerts waiting for Huge: the first from the host itself, and the second from Vector Matrix Services alerting Huge to what they discovered when they reviewed the system logs and the camera footage.

AM is able to delete one by editing the appropriate file, and will need to repeat the process to edit the other.

AM nods slightly to Jawsey - the most she can do for a physical response while being submerged so deep within the comlink, sneaking in, and editing its files. In the matrix, she texts a thumbs-up icon to notify us that she got the message.

With the first alarm disabled, praise the Trickster that now seems positive about her actions, she thanks her totem and moves to the next alarm trying to disable or delete it. AM moves to disable the second one attempting to delete any reference to the earlier expensive botched attempt. Augmented by the trickster, and Trouble on her side she focuses on the second alert and attempts to delete it.

Satisfied with the response of the commlink, Bobby made his way back along the wall and the ceiling. The drone was still active, so Bobby had to keep a low/high profile. Once he managed to press through the barrier a second time, he made his way back to the car.



As soon as he was able to get in contact with Trouble again, he relayed to the team:
'We need to spoof the drone to power down as well. Now that the link is online, that should be less problematic. I'll carry Huge in in human form, otherwise the barrier might disrupt the spell - despite its low strength its a really nasty piece of work.'

AM heart skips a bit when Bobby asks to do the same activity that caused this mess in the first place. Rationally she knows that she can spoof commands, but the negative feelings of failure and panicking are there.

Trouble confirms that the message is passed, and AM tries again.

AM doesn't feel confident in her spoof command, but Iktomi smiles on the effort and the command is duly processed.

The Doberman stops in the middle of its patrol routine and powers down.

Trouble says "AM says the drone is powered down."

Bobby made his way back to the car - once let in, he turned back into human form, put on some clothes and took the bag with the slightly snoring sloth.
<<Alright, nearly home. I'll scrub the astral inside Huge's bedroom, collect all evidence and go out through the window. A spirit needs to lock the windows behind me.>>

Bobby got out of the car again and made his way as stealthy as possible back to the open window, picking up Huge's clothes on the way in. He took a look at his soles before swinging in, making sure, he wasn't leaving prints.



He carried the sloth up to the barrier, took it out of the bag and finally let the spell drop. He took care not to let Huge touch the cold floor and quickly went about dressing the unconscious dwarf.
Fortifying his body a bit, he was able to carry the pretty heavy dwarf back into his room and into his cott.
Switching off the link, wiping it clean, wiping the astral for a minute, leaving the room, picking up the screwdriver, wiping the window sill, and climing out again made for another tense five minutes. Only once he was outside, he dared to breath freely again.

AM finishes her work and anxiously waits to stop subverting the cameras knowing in the back of her head that overwatch increases over time. Still, physical actions take more time than their matrix counterparts, so she seats and observes the matrix well hidden - and in hot simulation, she is so quick as to feel the milliseconds slowly passing. It is strange how hot simulation makes her feel so powerful and, at the same time, so vulnerable.

When she notices that Bobby is far enough, she logs out, reboots the deck, and strokes it fondly. "My precious Erika, I am still amazed at how far you can get me. she says to the deck before she quickly hides it back in her purse. She silently praises the trickster for recovering some of her professional honor and vows to take technological abilities more seriously and work hard on them.


"Glad to see you are back." she tells Bobby trying not to look at him, hoping he'll get some clothes before she needs to drive. Jawsey is wiping the astral, so he should be back soon. Trouble is with him learning. she says with a bit of sorrow- Jawsey leaving would make things difficult. She admires Jawsey for feeling connected to his people when she feels like a ship without a home port. Yet, his leaving would complicate things for her with all the social niceties that people seem to expect her kind to meddle with -- and she feels that Jawsey did these things better than her. Did in the past, because in some ways he began leaving them during the party at the Funhouse.

"Praise the Trickster again for the confidence to do social stuff." she thinks.

Getting conspicuously out of the way with the car she comments "I think it is time to go home, it has been a long night, and Mato needs us strong."

Jawsey is fairly confident that no astral security is showing up -- although a wandering spirit is always possible. So he saves the services of his spirit for less mundane tasks, and follows along Bobby's trail, erasing each signature as he goes. When he's done he does a final general pass to smooth out the whole area as best he can, to make it less obvious to someone really skilled where signatures had been cleaned up. Then he looks through the mana barrier as best he can, to make sure that Bobby did a proper job of cleaning up his signature in there.

When he's done with that, he's glad to see their car is still there. He could have met them all back at SIS if needed, but he hates no knowing where his body is.

"Home and sleep would be good. But I suppose we need to think about where we store these explosives. Preferably not under our beds, you know? And nowhere too easy to spot, should anyone break in or if we host guests again. Maybe we can buy a small safe and stick it in the corner least apt to take us with it, should the things inside explode?"

Bobby shrugged: "I would hide them in an abandoned warehouse, up in the rafters. I know a place not far from our offices where I sometimes practice my rat catching skills.
We just have to wrap it up well against moisture and we should be good - just some plastic bags and lots of tape will be enough. My spatial awareness power makes it dead easy to find good hiding spots."

Jawsey opened his mouth to respond, then stopped as he answered his own objections. There are scavengers everywhere, many desperate enough to pick over already picked over locations, just in case. But then again, SIS didn't really NEED these explosives, it had really been more of an emotional thing, that they had to do something to push back in some way. But he did add "We can use spirits to help put them somewhere than maybe even you can't drag them, if you can help identify the spots."

You drive back to SIS HQ, which hasn't been shot up or bombed in your absence.

Scouting the premises reveals nothing special on the astral or the Matrix.

The streets seem normal. People go about their business. Maybe they're a bit wary of you, as you seem to attract bombs, but nobody actively flees from your presence. If they're watching you from the corners of their eyes, they're being discrete about it.

AM chimes in My inclining is to use one of our contacts for that - I was thinking of Bau Chou as someone loyal enough, and distant enough to not get entangled in our local politics - but I don't mind your plan.

"Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.
I'd prefer to involve as few people as possible. Bad enough that this drug dealer knows." Bobby replied, reflecting that he likely wouldn't be so paranoid if he didn't spend his free time snooping around in the shape of various small critters and selling that info to Lysander.

"Alright, I'll direct the spirit to carry the package, but let's go in first to prepare it and make it watertight."

Bobby amended. He suddenly felt very tired. Just one more transformation and he could finally go to bed. They had made quite a few mistakes in their plan - maybe if Mato had been there, they could have avoided them. But then, if Mato had been there they wouldn't have gone there in the first place...

You wrap up the plastic explosives in lots of plastic and tape to make plastic-wrapped plastic explosives. As a bonus, you get two free satchels out of this. They're faux-leather but pretty decent. Maybe don't use them when Huge is around.

Then it's off to find a good destination for them. There aren't that many fully "abandoned" warehouses in the area. Almost anything that can pose as shelter has been taken over by squatters. The exceptions are warehouses that have been taken over by ghouls. Bobby knows one of these that's a bit outside of Touristville. It has a reputation of being used by the 162s on their way to and from the sewers and the Underground. As a bonus, that reputation helps keep the non-Infected away. The only challenge is that ghouls are dual-natured and can see through your spells, so you can't just masquerade as a bird flying around in the rafters and have them believe it.

Another option is a fairly new warehouse that's actually in excellent shape. The catch is that it has a truly retched background count. Rumor has it that it was a black ops site where Aztechnology tortured, interrogated, and liquidated whoever had sufficiently pissed them off. The aura of the place wants to make you throw up, but the upside is that same aura is creepy enough to keep the squatters away. Mato was the one who found it because he's the one who doesn't care about fiddly things like background counts and the screams of the damned.

"It's a place with high background count - Mato told me about it - even if someone should use spirit with a search power, they would have difficulties finding it there. Shouldn't take long, but just in case, I'll take some extra tape with me, so we can secure the packages."

Bobby told his colleagues.

She grows a bit plae imagining what made the place such a high background count. What I fear is that this background count is not only because of the past but that it may be that high because of the present. It would be really bad to get the attention of people that cause this kind of grief.

"Nah, it will be fine - the two times I was there, no-one had been there recently. And they don't tend to go up to the roof anyway. Besides: I'd rather geek one of those bastards than a ghoul."

Bobby replied, missing the point entirely.

"At least anywhere with a backgroud count like that, if it does blow up it is probably a mercy. But I guess we'd better be sure that the mundane security isn't watching too closely, you'll need AM for checking the matrix. I can sit in the car and watch for trouble, I guess."

She prays silently - clearly being a bit overwhelmed by all the possible implications of what Bobby and Jawsey are saying. She knows she is paranoid, but feeding the Trickster with this kind of dice roll is more than she could stomach. Her mind visualizes a hundred scenarios of it going wrong, and her heartbeat gets accelerated - and she prays to clear her mind and try to rationalize her fear. Her lips are moving but she speaks not but thinks the words. It is one of the mantras Iktomi has taught her. Or one she made by herself when meditating and looking for answers - the great Trickster is never too obvious in its interactions with her.

"Magic theory is knowledge, knowledge gives awareness and awareness leads to fear. We need to be brave enough to look at the great plan for what it is. Fear keeps us careful, but it also makes us blind. I would embrace my fear, let it pass through me, and when it dissipates only the Web remains. "

She takes a few moments to speak.
I'll be blunt. If it is an active cooperate asset that is occasionally used for torture... and you are going to place explosives on said asset. It would seem like a hostile action. Might be smart not to poke the bear unless we have no choice, and in this case keeping the explosives in SIS while not entirely safe - may actually be safer than having a bunch of blackops investigating us.

"Hm, I didn't think about it that way. Ok, new idea: I just go and rent a storage space for a few days. One of those cash only places, where people living in coffin motels stash their excess stuff."

Bobby conceded

"Few days and then what?"

"I'll go out and search for some place in nature where I can stash it securely. No need to overcomplicate things. But by now I really want to get to bed. So let's make just another short detour."

Bobby replied, surpressing a yawn.

"Alright, I'll drive us to a place of this type."

There are two options for storage space.

First, in Touristville there's a pretty decent place called U-Store-It that actually makes an attempt at security. There are still squatters there, sure, but they at least pretend like they don't live there full-time. And the squatters are the upscale squatters that can reliably pull together a few creds to make regular payments. It's certainly not as nice as what you would find across the border in Bellevue, but the roof is generally intact and there's a cigar-chomping manager that will actually investigate sounds of disturbances - along with his trusty Remington Roomsweeper. It is known that Mato has a unit here that's rented under his crappy fake SIN, "Tex Shaft". (The manager almost certainly knows that it's a fake, as it's a National SIN for the UCAS despite the fact that nobody outside of the CAS would have the name "Tex". But the manager didn't question the creds.) AM is reasonably certain she could find and/or spoof Mato's credentials, but there is a danger of being seen by someone who might recognize you. But so what? Nobody knows what's in the bag but you, and Bobby can be quite intimidating if anyone takes an undue interest.

(From Interlude 2)

The second option is a hellhole called EZ Storage 4 U which is over in The Verge. It's a lawless place that features nightly bloodlettings where folks fight over scrap which may or may not be of any value. Security is only what you can provide for yourself, which means that nothing is safe unless you're there sleeping with it. Even then it's only safe if you're dangerous enough to protect it. It's a lawless place but there's no manager, no cameras, and no SIN checks. If you want a place where nobody will recognize you, that's the spot.