Blogs of a bunch of friends

November 7, 2070—Friday

13 March 06 - 11:10 pm

Delta has become awfully meddlesome; I’m almost sure she called Victor to tell him I was being discharged today, since he was waiting for me at my apartment again. At least this time he had the decency to linger outside rather than lurk in my living room.

“Hi,” I said, shortly. Awkwardly.

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, brushing aside a strand of my hair. “You look a lot better.”

“Yeah, I’m all patched up.” I walked past him without ever meeting his eyes.

“Can I come up?” he called, somewhat forlornly.

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered.

Upstairs, we stood in the doorway, not quite looking at each other, for several minutes.

“You look like you could use some cheering up,” Victor finally said with a sweet smile. He put his hands on my hips and pulled me to him. “Let’s go dancing tonight; I know of a new club that just opened downtown.”

“I don’t want to dance,” I said tersely. That surprised him; I have never turned down a dance in my life. “We’re sparring. Gear up.”

He complied with some confusion, and the instant he had his pads on I attacked him with seething ferocity. He blocked and blocked and blocked and stumbled backwards under my onslaught. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life, with the adrenaline of pure impotent anger gushing through me. Finally Victor screamed, “Stop it!” and managed to grab hold of my wrists, stilling my furor. “What is this about, you lunatic woman? Why are you trying to kill me?”

I threw him off easily and turned away, silent.

“What? What is it?” he persisted. “You’ve been acting like a caged hellcat for the last few days and abusing me for absolutely nothing!”

I walked away toward the kitchen, but he followed. “Don’t walk away from me, Carmine. I’ve been very patient with you, but I don’t deserve this. I won’t put up with it anymore. Now either tell me what is going on, or I am walking out of this apartment for good!”

I whipped around and stared at him fiercely.

“Tell me! Why are trying to kill me?”

Finally I exploded. “Because I nearly died the other day,” I screamed in his face. “And I didn’t nearly die fighting someone or from a spell or through my own excesses. No, I nearly died because I tripped while jumping out a fragging window, because my own skills failed me utterly in the most ridiculous, undignified, useless way imaginable! Because I failed to protect my teammates and had to have my ass saved by our fragging softies! That’s not the way it’s supposed to happen! I’m the muscle, I’m the hardbody! So what the hell am I if my body fails me??”

“It was an accident! It’s not your fault.”

“It shouldn’t have happened,” I whispered. Then shouting: “Why did it happen?” and I started swinging at him again. But instead of blocking and returning, he just dodged smoothly.

“You can’t take your anger at God out on me, Carmine,” he said softly.

“The hell I can’t,” I snarled, springing after him again. But he peeled off his pads and stood utterly still, staring at me.

“I won’t fight you,” he said. “If you must hit me, then hit me.”

“Put on your pads!” I cried. “Face me like a fragging man, damn you!”

“I won’t fight you,” he repeated. I punched his shoulder, feinted at his face, even shook him in frustration, but he wouldn’t defend himself.

“Why won’t you fight?” I wailed.

“Because I’m not what you are angry at. This won’t do either of us any good, Carmine.”

I gazed at him, his face so sincere, and remembered the flowers, the anniversary surprise, his stubborn presence here even after I had snubbed him repeatedly, and now his telling me things that I didn’t want to hear and that no one else would say.

“God, Victor, I’m sorry.” He gathered me in his arms as I dissolved into tears. “I’m so sorry."

We sat in a tangled mess on my gym floor for a long while until my sobs quieted to shuddering breaths.

“Sweetheart, I know this seems devastating at the moment,” Victor murmured into my hair. “But it isn’t the end of the world. You are alive, and I presume your friends are too. And we all learn from our mistakes. What did you learn from this?”

“That jumping out third story windows is stupid,” I answered with a weak, watery laugh. He laughed too and hugged me tight.

“I am very glad of that. Please remember that one!” He stroked my hair. “You’ll get through this. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. If it will make you feel better, you can train your ass off every day of the week. I’ll even help.”

“You’d do that for me?”

He laughed fondly. “You idiot. Can’t you tell I’m totally crazy about you? That is the least of the things I’d be willing to do for you.”

“Oh goodie,” I said, snuggling closer and closing my eyes. “We’ll start tomorrow then.”

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November 6, 2070—Thursday

13 March 06 - 11:07 pm

Finally. They say I can leave tomorrow. Sadly the glow of yesterday’s adventure faded quickly and the longer I am left alone with nothing to distract me, the blacker my depression gets. As soon as I get out of here, I am going to start a new, much more rigorous training regimen, so that nothing like that ever happens again. I have to be better. I have to redeem myself.

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November 5, 2070—Wednesday

12 March 06 - 11:18 pm

God, I don’t think I can stand this place one more minute. I’m going out of my mind. I’ve already broken all the toys Delta brought me and my body is twitching to move. Frag the doctors, I’m getting up.

Later…

Well that didn’t last long. I’d only been up for about 10 minutes when Dr. Bonebrek caught sight of me. He sent his orderlies after me, but I led them on a merry chase. We even got up on the roof at one point, where I danced around taunting them. Finally they tackled me somewhere in the birthing ward and hauled me, laughing hysterically, back to my cell. That was the most fun I’ve had in days.

Unfortunately, some of my stitches burst when the kids landed on me, so I’m told I’ll have to stay here for at least one more day. Sigh… if I live that long.

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November 4, 2070—Tuesday

12 March 06 - 11:17 pm

She must have told him. I woke up to find flowers from him on the table next to me, the same kind he’d gotten for our anniversary. I rolled away from them and did not cry.

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November 3, 2070—Monday

12 March 06 - 9:12 pm

A full night of sleep in a bed, even one as stiff and unapologetically practical as this one, did me a world of good. I no longer felt like slitting my wrists and was able to push the anger down behind a mask of civility. I smiled and chatted with Delta when she brought me some toys to keep me busy while confined to bed. Before she left, she asked if Victor knew where I was.

“Not really,” I muttered, avoiding her eyes.

“Mmmm. I’m sure he’s worried?”

I just shrugged and she left.

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November 2, 2070—Sunday

12 March 06 - 9:09 pm

My commlink was buzzing. In a daze I sat up and wondered where I was. Apparently I had cried myself to sleep on the living room floor last night. Head pounding, gummy eyes blinking, I answered the call.

“Fox? Are you okay?” It was Delta.

“Not really. What’s going on?”

“We were worried when you didn’t join us at the hospital last night.”

“Oh, right.” I ran a hand across my face. “Right. How do I get there again?”

“Hmmm,” Delta frowned. “How about I come and get you? You don’t look too good.”

“Ok, whatever. See you.” Click.

She found me half and hour later exactly where I had been when she called. “Come on, Fox, up you go, girl. That’s it,” Delta murmured in exactly the same tones you use to calm an animal, as she gave me a hand up. “It’s not too far from here, we’ll soon have you in good hands. Woah, careful there. Here let me carry those…”

She went on in that soothing voice, but I couldn’t even hear her. A roar was filling my ears as my entire concentration contracted inwardly down on the tiny core of me. My vision tunneled, heart thudded, and bile rose in my throat… hate. How could I have been such an imbecile?

Delta got me checked into the hospital without any troubles and I was led to exactly the kind of white, sterile, cold room I had been fearing. I hugged my pillow to me while Del answered a few questions for the doctor. Once they had me tucked into the hard, narrow hospital bed that would be my home for a while, she left me with a pat on the arm and I could hear my own voice silently scream and scream and scream…

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November 1, 2070—Saturday

12 March 06 - 9:07 pm

We didn’t go straight to the hospital, actually. Since we were potentially going to be spending a few days locked up in that anesthetic white prison, we felt we should collect a few things from home first.

As I drove home, alone for the first time since the run started, my steely bravado finally crumbled. Tears burned down my cheeks like acid and my teeth grated against each other. God, I’m an idiot. I don’t mind nearly dying in the course of a run—that’s the nature of being a shadowrunner and is part of the trill—but nearly dying in such a humiliating way? Failure, failure, failure, failure… The word rattled around in my head relentlessly until a scream welled up in my chest and gripped my throat. Just before it burst from my lips, however, it was painfully stifled by the sight of a familiar car in my parking lot.

Drek. Victor was upstairs. I shouldn’t have given him that key.

After killing the ignition, I sat in my car for a few minutes trying to collect myself. I managed to stem the flow of tears and swabbed on a bit of make-up, but nothing could hide the redness in my eyes, or the bruise mottling my jaw, or the limp. I couldn’t even cover up the bullet wounds in my side, since my shirt was bloodstained and ripped.

He’s going to flip.

Fine, I thought to myself. It’s his own fault for making so free of my home. All I wanted was to grab some clothes and hide in the hospital until the evidence had faded. He wouldn’t even have had to know. Now we’re going to do this instead.

I walked grimly, determinedly up the stairs and let myself in. Victor looked up from the magazine he was reading with a smile that fell instantly.

“What the hell happened to you?!” he said in shock as he took in my battered appearance.

“I fell,” I snarled.

“You fell,” he repeated flatly. He sat back and folded his arms. “I hear that line a lot in my job and, you know what? it’s never true.”

I laughed bitterly. “Well, believe it, sweetheart. For once it’s true. I fell. From a third story window.”

“What?!”

I grabbed his collar and pulled his face right up to mine. “That is all you are getting out me,” I hissed, “so shut your mouth.” And I stalked off into my bedroom with as much dignity as I could manage, trying to suppress my limp, and slammed the door shut behind me.

Victor knocked worriedly. “Sweetheart, what happened? Do you need a doctor?”

“I can take care of myself, thank you!”

“Come on, let me in!”

“Go the hell away!”

He kept knocking for a while, but after a few minutes of no response, I at last heard his footsteps walk away and the front door close quietly.

I sat on the floor of my bedroom, in the dark, for a long time. It was as though my brain had shut off for a while until suddenly I awoke, aware of how cold and uncomfortable I was. Mechanically, I gathered some clothes, a couple books, and my pillow and stepped out of my room. It was only then that I saw what Victor had been doing in my apartment: there was a vase of exotic flowers on the table, candles flickering gently—very low now—and a beautifully wrapped present, reading “Happy Anniversary.”

I leaned against the wall and wept.

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October 31, 2070—Friday (later)

11 March 06 - 11:58 pm

Jerk drove us around aimlessly for a while, hoping to shake of any potential tails. I looked and looked, but didn’t detect anyone following us. Lou, on the other hand, spotted an unfamiliar spirit high up in astral space who seemed to be matching our course and speed. He came back to his body to tell us about it; it had a feeling of cold, writhing disturbance surrounding it, he said.

“I’ve never encountered anything like it. It was exuding pure hate and anger.”

“Is that unusual?” Delta asked.

“Yes. I’ve only ever heard of spirits so powerfully emotional as this; they’re in a class that has only recently been identified. Probably the most well known spirit is the Shidim, zombie spirits that possess dead humans.”

I shuddered. “I’ve heard of those. They wear dead human bodies like clothes.”

“I’m going to send a falcon spirit after it to delay it, maybe get it off our trail.” A few minutes later, Lou grimly reported the falcon spirit was dead, but the other one did not seem to be following us any longer.

This whole time Jerk had been keeping an eye on the enemy mage, who was now reporting to someone in downtown Seattle, near the Aztechnology pyramid: “The run is hosed, moving to secondary meeting point, send medical team to hotel.”

“I and I haf a pinpoint on de ground where de baddy-clots hidin' in,” Jerk said. “'Im in de Barrens.”

“Well isn’t that peachy for them,” I groused. “I don’t care if they fled to Daddy Dunklazahn, I just want to survive the rest of this mission and get this package off our hands.”

“Yes,” Delta said. “That's good information to hand over to Mr. Johnson, but there’s no need for us to hunt down and kill the mage and his friend. That’s not what we’re getting paid for.”

“I’m hungry,” Hitomi piped up. So we pulled into a McHugh’s for lunch and feasted on the very best the fast-food soy product industry has to offer. Blech. Afterward as we were returning to the van, Jerk asked me to take the wheel for a while. I reluctantly agreed; evasive and trick driving, should it come to that, is not my forte, but no one else seemed too worried about it.

I had only been driving for about half an hour, doing my best to take less populated roadways when possible and carefully blending with traffic when forced to take the highway, when we all noticed a motorcycle screeching toward us from behind. It was careening around wildly, totally not going with the flow of traffic.

“What the frag is that?” I asked, my eyes flickering between the rear-view mirror and the road ahead of me.

“Rider appears to be a male elf, looking pretty strung out,” Delta reported. “Leather vest and pants, but no helmet. Really bad bleach job. Obvious gang tats, but I don’t recognize the colors.”

“A gang?” I said. “Then what the hell is he doing alone?”

“Wait a minute,” Delta said. “I’ve seen those symbols before. I’ve seem them before at raver parties that are heavy on magic. Something ritual? What’s going on here?”

“I think I can clear that up,” Lou said tightly. “He’s possessed.”

“Oh frag,” I said. “Is that your Shidim?”

But before Lou had a chance to respond, the elf rammed his bike into the back of our van.

“Mi gaan ina bike,” Jerk warned me as his eyes rolled up into his head. Hitomi swung open the back door and fired into his shoulder. It obviously connected, but he didn’t react in any way.

“Everyone hold on!” I yelled. To shake him off, I jerked the van into the next lane, then whipped back the other direction. He stayed right on our tail. Delta sent a spray aimed at his head, but he pitched the bike to the left so hard that his knees brushed the pavement and she missed. Lou finally nailed him with a handful of magic that looked as though it peeled strips of his flesh off of him like a banana. That got a reaction. Baring his teeth, the elf hit the throttle and smacked his vehicle at full tilt into our bumper. He flew over the handlebars and landed in the rear of our van, partially sheltered behind Jerk’s drone.

Immediately Jerk stopped hacking the motorcycle and dumped himself into the drone. Suddenly there was gunfire rattling all around the back of the van right behind my head, which not only jangled my nerves but freaked out the other drivers on the highway. In the interest of damaging fewer innocents, I took the next exit and headed to less populated neighborhoods.

Jerk’s drone finally connected, blowing off the elf’s entire left side. Normally this would at least slow someone down, but he kept coming. It was clear from his behavior that he was completely focused on Delta’s coat pocket to the exclusion of all else.

“He’s after the package!” Lou shouted. Hitomi leapt from her seat into the back and tried to shove him out the open door. The elf, however, scrambled past her like an oiled eel, flipped over the seats and landed in Delta’s lap. Delta was riding shotgun, so now I was finally within reach of the bastard. I swatted the autopilot and started grappling with him, but damn he was fast and squirmy. Delta flailed around, trying desperately to escape, but she was pinned. He started pawing frantically at her coat and she screamed helplessly, trying to bat away his searching hands.

Everyone instantly moved to rescue her. Lou’s magic was ineffective this time, but Hitomi managed to scrabble over the seats and land a punch on his jaw. Jerk’s effort to shoot the elf with the drone’s guns only succeeded in shooting out his own front window. Finally I caught his jaw in my hand and shoved his head into the roof, crushing his skull.

What was left of his body fell in a heap on Delta. In utter revulsion, she ripped open the door and kicked it out onto the street. As we all sat, shaking and breathing hard, the van trundled imperturbably along. I checked the time.

“Six more hours of this drek,” I breathed, fighting to keep my stomach under control. Sirens in the distance. “Time to be moving on, chummers. If anyone knows of any hidey-holes around here, now would be a good time to fess up.”

Jerk started. “Oh, eh, mi mebbe know some good ground,” he said sheepishly. “A new broom sweeps clean, but an old broom knows every corner.” Glares all around. He shrugged and steered us toward what turned out to be a deserted Mafia gentlemen’s club. We parked in the garage and listened as the sirens passed us by before sighing with relief.

Upon climbing out of the van, we saw just how besmirched with gore we all were. The decaying elf had also left trails of blood, intestines, and brains all over the inside of the vehicle. Jerk regarded it mournfully.

“Mi poor van. Im be clapped and bruk, and bad renk.”

I put a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ve got six hours to kill. Might as well take a stab at cleaning up this mess. We just need to find some supplies and maybe a hose for ourselves and we’re good to go.”

That’s pretty much what we did, except Lou. He nearly passed out after healing Delta’s wounds and Hitomi had sternly ordered him to sleep for the rest of the run. I’m glad she did, as I only then realized how much magic he’d been pulling for the last day: several sprits, healing everybody a couple times over (me especially), that physical barrier and numerous attack spells. And unlike me, he didn’t even get a full night’s sleep to recuperate.

Just before we reached the much-anticipated 24-hour mark, my commlink chirped. The visage of the fat Johnson appeared and said, “Sorry about this, but there’s been a change of plans. I couldn’t communicate with you via the device I left, so I tracked down your number. I am sending you the coordinates for the drop-off. Thank you.”

Yeah, right.

At precisely 24 hours, the device flashed and showed us a location, different from the one I’d just been given, a bar called SuperDads. Hmm, promising.

We pulled into the alley behind the bar and all went in, except for Jerk who stayed to protect the van. The Johnson was sitting in a booth right next to the well lit bar, with an ork bodyguard standing over him. The bodyguard noticed us first, peering hawkishly at us over his glasses. When the Johnson caught sight of us, he grinned cheerfully until we got close enough for him to see all the bruises and abrasions.

“You didn’t expect anyone to be looking for this, eh?” Delta opened aggressively, handing over the package. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for medical expenses in addition to hazard pay.”

“What happened?”

“We were attacked three times over your little package, once by a well coordinated shadowrun group and once by a dead elf possessed by a zombie spirit.”

The Johnson’s face paled. He knew what we were talking about. To my shock, he didn’t even bother negotiating, but just handed over a silver credstick, tucked the package under his arm and sprinted for the exit, his bodyguard close behind.

The four of us sat stunned for a moment until the silence was broken by Jerk calling over the commlink: “Is I and I runnin' cool, fambly? Mi see de mampi-man steppin' quick like Babylon runnin' after im.”

“That wasn’t Babylon, Jerk,” Lou said, deadpan. “That was his bodyguard.”

We laughed weakly and checked out the credstick: 75 thou! That was almost worth it. It should certainly be enough to cover a few days in the hospital for all of us.

“Let’s go meet this doctor friend of yours you keep telling us about,” I said to Delta, clapping her shoulder. “What did you say his name was again?”

“Dr. Bonebrek.”

“... Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Nope,” she grinned.

"Ohh, this is going to be fun..."

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October 31, 2070—Friday (very early morning)

11 March 06 - 11:45 pm

We needed to hole up somewhere for the night and driving aimlessly around Seattle wasn’t going to cut it. Jerk found us a nicely nondescript hotel in suburban Auburn to hide: the Staysea Hotel. From the outside check-in interface, we were able to secure a double room with no outside windows and one side overlooking the pool area for 55 nuyen. Once inside, we went to work barricading and scoping out the neighbors. I listened at the doors while Lou peered around astrally. The guy across the hall was watching some disgusting blood sport on the trid and the faint sound of snores drifted out from the neighbors on the right. Lou reported nothing out of the ordinary among the guests (except for one really drug-addled hippie), but there was an attentive watcher who disapproved of anyone floating astrally outside of their rooms. Lou summoned his own watcher to keep an eye out for spirits so we could get some rest.

“We should split up watches,” Delta suggested and everyone agreed.

“I’ll need a bit of sleep soon,” I said with a slight groan as I shifted positions. Lou hadn’t been able to heal me completely, so I was still mildly perforated. “But I can take second or third watch.”

“Like hell you will,” Hitomi said flatly. “The rest of us will take watch and you will sleep. Don’t argue.” I opened my mouth to do just that, but Lou, Delta, and Jerk were all nodding in agreement.

“Fine,” I said in exasperation. “I’ll be a good little patient.”

“Good,” said Lou. “Three hours shifts: I’ll take first, Delta, you get second, Tomi third, and Jerk after that.”

I lay down in the bed I was sharing with Delta and fell deeply asleep within minutes. It seemed like no time at all had passed when I found myself being violently shaken awake by Hitomi. I only knew it was her by the sound of her voice as the room was pitch black.

“What?” I mumbled dazedly. “What’s going on?”

“Power’s been cut,” Tomi hissed. “We should brace for an attack.” From the other side of the room I could hear Lou muttering a summoning spell.

“Good thing Delta shoved the sofa and desk against the door, then, isn’t it?” I replied as I fumbled for my gun and armor. “We’re pretty well barricaded in here.”

It didn’t take long before there was a knock at the door. Delta trained her gun on it and called pleasantly, “Who is it?” The response was a burst of blind firing and the sound of someone ramming against the door. Lou’s beastie disappeared, I presume to attack the intruders astrally, while Delta and I shot at them through the door. One of us hit, as we heard a muffled curse. Suddenly the air before us shivered; I recognized it as the same physical barrier Lou had thrown up in front of that ninja in Orkland. It was going to be a while before the bad guys managed to penetrate this room. Jerk crawled into the bathroom to do his VR mojo in peace.

Snippets of conversation outside, and another slam against the door, which cracked. Holy drek.

“Ah!” Lou shouted. “My spirit is dead!”

The door finally gave way, the top half splintering and falling over the couch. Behind it was a big man with a mini battering ram and two gunners flanking him. They immediately fired at us, but their bullets spattered harmlessly against Lou’s barrier.

“We’ve got to get behind them,” I called over the commlink. “There’s only one way out of here!” And with that I shot out the pool window and tossed a quilt over the jagged edges. Hitomi instantly dove out and landed in the pool with a beautifully executed roll.

Unfortunately the splash attracted the attention of yet another bad guy who was still out in the hallway. He could see into the pool area from a large window in the hall and began shooting through it at Hitomi who was dangerously hampered by the water.

I was the only one close enough to the window to see what was going on. I jumped out the window to come to her rescue, but my foot caught on the quilt puddled on the floor and I slipped. Instead of diving gracefully into the pool like Tomi did, I just fell like a rock to the concrete below. Two stories down I tumbled, seeing death approach like a speeding train. It was only by the very grace of God that the wretched quilt that had caused my fall also saved my life; it had spilled out after me and caught on the broken glass edges, allowing me to slow my descent just enough that my brains didn’t splatter across the pavement. I may have to start going to church again.

I shouldn’t have worried about Tomi; fast as lightening she hauled herself out of the water and sprayed bullets at her attacker, killing him instantly. I tried to help her, but I couldn’t even lift my gun. The best thing I could do in the situation was get out of the way so my teammates didn’t have to worry about protecting me while in the middle of a fight. So I stumbled into a stairwell, well out of the exposed pool room, and took stock of my wounds: a broken wrist, a concussion, numerous bloody abrasions—some fairly severe—several cracked ribs, and possibly a pierced lung since I was having trouble breathing. I was out for the count on this one. God damn it.

The rest of the story I got from my teammates later. In the hotel room upstairs, the bad guys finally succeeded in breaking down Lou’s barrier. Delta did my handgun training proud by taking on both gunners almost single-handedly, but sadly Lou took a painful round into his belly. Jerk hacked into Mr. Battering Ram’s PAN and neatly switched off his giant, full-cyber arms, which fell like logs to his side. Shrieking in rage, Mr. BR took a flying leap over the sofa, but the dead weight of his useless arms tripped him up and he pitched face-first into the cushions. Wish I could have seen that.

Meanwhile, Hitomi had whizzed past me on the stairs and reached the third floor to ambush the attackers from behind. Among the four bad guys we had accounted for, she spotted an fifth, unarmed man staring off into space. A mage. Without hesitation, she open-fired on him, tagging his shoulder. Unfortunately winging him was not enough to distract him. He turned around and blasted her with a wicked mind-burn, knocking her out cold.

About this point, I started creeping upstairs in the hopes of getting in at least one shot before the fun was over. Outside, I heard the high-pitched wail of a doc-wagon approaching. We needed to get out of there quick. I poked my head into the third-floor hallway where the action was taking place just in time to see a magical stun ball detonate in their midst, knocking them all backward. Within seconds of each other, the gunners’ heads both disappeared in a red spray. Good one, Del!

The mage assessed the situation and bolted. Somehow his friend with the deactivated arms managed to twist and leap off the couch and follow suit. The battle was over. And what a showing I made! Wretched fool.

I dragged myself to Tomi’s side and rolled her over. No sign of damage, so she was probably just stunned. Nothing a nap wouldn’t take care of, right? I collapsed at her side like a broken, useless doll and fought back tears. I hurt like I’ve never hurt before, I could barely breath, and the world was spinning like a top. And all for nothing.

I became aware a few moments later of Lou hovering over me. The dizziness receded and the pain slowly melted to tolerable levels. He even patched up whatever was wrong with my lung and helped me sit up. Breathing deeply, I smiled brightly at him and gave my thanks.

“Let’s go,” he said brusquely. “Jerk has a lock on the mage’s PAN, so we can follow. Help me get Hitomi up.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked as I got her arm over my shoulder. “Can’t you heal her too?”

“Even if she weren’t completely made of metal,” he said sourly, “I can’t heal a brain burn like that. She’ll just have to sleep it off.”

As the five of us exited the building, with Hitomi suspended between Lou and me, we were greeted by a doc wagon with guns drawn: “Drop the body!” they shouted, which we hastily did. They did a very quick assessment of Tomi and finally just slapped a stim patch on her. She awoke instantly. Once she was able to answer their questions to their satisfaction, she was released again into our care.

Jerk ensured that the van met us at the front door and we got the hell out of there.

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October 30, 2070—Thursday

11 March 06 - 12:56 am

We arrived slightly early to check out the location before the scheduled meet. It was a sad looking place, one of those automat-style restaurants with faux-Italian décor that only accents its pathetic state. Even from outside, we could smell that inviting/repulsive soy-grease, meat-product aroma. Ugh. If I spend more than 10 minutes in there, I will have to wash my hair twice to get the stench out.

Lou and Jerk scanned the restaurant. Lou reported six living beings, one possibly an Adept and another very sick. Jerk didn’t detect any weapons anywhere on the premise, so Delta and I went in with our own guns concealed.

Mr. Johnson was quite easy to identify. He was a large, very out of place gentleman wolfing down what appeared to be his fourth slice of pizza, with a paper napkin tucked into his necktie. I appreciated his utter indifference to the weird glances he was getting from the other patrons. There was a trio of ork gangers trying to look tough in one corner and a strung-out looking elf muttering to himself in another. I’m guessing he was the sick aura Lou detected. He certainly didn’t look well. The sixth creature must have been the employee hidden in the back behind the wall of vending slots.

Mr. Johnson spotted us and nodded in greeting. After shoving the rest of his pizza in his mouth, washing it down with a huge gulp of soda, and wiping his greasy hands on a napkin, he waved us over and proffered a hand.

“Pleased to meet you, ladies,” he said genially, “Have a seat.”

Delta slipped into the booth and I followed, making sure to be on the outside. A few pleasantries were exchanged, then we got down to business.

“I have an item that needs to be guarded for the next 24 hours,” he said. “I don’t believe anyone is looking for it specifically, but we feel security should be heightened for a small while.”

“Anything we should know about this item?” Delta probed. “Is it toxic or likely to explode of handled improperly?”

“Oh no. It has some…history to it; there is magic involved, but we don’t forsee it to be a problem.”

“Is there somewhere specific you would like us to guard the item?”

“No. I don’t want to know. I will leave a way to contact you with the package, with which I will give you the drop-off coordinates. Do not accept any communication from me other than the drop-off coordinates through this device. Understand?”

“Of course,” Delta replied with just the slightest hint of hurt irritation. I doubt he picked up on it.

“I’d like you to start immediately if that’s possible. We are prepared to pay half up-front and the rest when you successfully deliver the item after twenty-four hours.”

And this is why we keep Delta around: she turned on that silver tongue of hers and started negotiating fees. After a few minutes, we got a raise and a promise for significant danger pay should the need arise. I’m looking forward to an easy few grand for 24 hours of work. Nice.

Once we agreed to take the job right away, he thanked us, gathered up his considerable pile of garbage and departed. At that moment, Del and I heard a ding from one the pizza windows in the back signaling that it was now open.

Delta commented, “That doesn’t look like a pizza. I’m guessing that’s our package.”

Yup. We were on the job.

As she walked over to retrieve it, I noticed too late that the ork gangers were paying far too much attention to us and the pizza window. The leader was now standing up and putting his hand under his jacket, so I immediately positioned myself between him and Delta.

“Hostiles,” I muttered to the rest of the team over the commlink. “I suspect imminent violence.”

“I and I call fi back-up, dawta?” Jerk asked.

“Yes, frag it. There are three of them, all packing heat. I can’t take that on by myself, much as I’d love to.”

The ork pulled his gun finally, saying “step away from the package! I don’t know what it is, but it’s mine now.” His two buddies flanked me, though most of their attention was focused on Del. This was bad thing, because I noticed she was palming the package from the pizza slot, and if any of the orks spotted that, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot her. So to distract them, I charged like an idiot at the two nearest me. As I expected, they unloaded into me. Unfortunately I did not dodge nearly as well as I had hoped and ended up with a couple holes in my side. But by then I was within reach of them and neatly shattered the left one’s arm with a single blow. His gun discharged wildly, missing everyone but hitting the front window. All of us cringed when an ear-splitting alarm suddenly filled the night.

The one-armed ganger panicked and fled for the door, but his buddy and leader stayed their ground and insisted on filling me with bullets. This was the point when everything got very messy, because that’s when Hitomi appeared in the doorway like a diminutive force of nature. Her first shot went into the leader’s chest, and the second sprayed his brains on the wall. By then Delta had managed to juggle the package into her pocket and whip our her pistol and did pretty much exactly the same thing to the remaining, unwounded ganger. The one whose arm I’d broken whimpered and hit the floor when he saw Jerk’s beloved, terrifying drone looming behind Hitomi. Lucky him, that move saved his life as the drone filled the air with lead. The van screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant and I limped in. While Delta broke into the back room in search of bleach to pour over all the blood—you can never be too careful with all the ritual blood magic going on in the underworld—Lou healed me to the point where I could stand. After Del had destroyed what evidence she could, we piled in the van and roared out of Puyallup, leaving behind a very bad start to our mission.

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October 29, 2070—Wednesday

11 March 06 - 12:44 am

Delta called a conference call of all five of us. “I talked to Gabel. The Johnson wants to meet us at tomorrow night at a 24-hour pizzeria in Puyallup. We’re to make contact with a white human male in a business suit.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to pick him out,” Tomi snickered. “A human in a business suit. In a Puyallap pizzeria. At night. Is he looking to get shot?”

“So what’s the plan, chummers?” Delta asked. “How’s this meet gonna go down?”

“The face and a bodyguard is all that should be needed,” I said. “In the van we should have the mage and hacker on overwatch with their own bodyguard.”

There was a bit of back and forth on that, but it eventually worked out like I’d suggested: Delta and I would make contact; Hitomi would guard Lou and Jerk in the van. We spent the rest of the day preparing and gearing up.

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October 28th, 2070—Tuesday

09 March 06 - 4:30 pm

Unemployment doesn't suit me. I am bored. There are only so many things I can do to fill up my time and they're pretty predictable: mess around with Victor and work out. Well, Victor is at work today and my usual work-out routine does not appeal to me at the moment. I wish I could go swimming, but it's getting a bit cool for that now that we are well into autumn. I didn't make enough on that last run to justify going on a shopping spree even if I needed new clothes, which I don't. I'm too impatient to watch a movie or read a book...

Drek! I haven't been to the dojo in two weeks. The sensei will make snide remarks about my discipline. Sigh... well, best go face the music now before he becomes even more disapproving.

Later...

I can tell I'm going to hurt tomorrow, but right now it feels good to have noodly limbs. I was right; the sensei had all sorts of little barbs stored up for me, which he dispensed one by one, evenly spaced during our session just like a man carefully planting seeds. I enjoyed it, actually.

"Aww, you missed me!" I told him. "I never knew you cared."

He kicked at my head, but I dodged neatly. "I care that your lack of discipline brings dishonor to me," he replied sternly.

"Discipline, schmicipline," I giggled. "I'm still your best student." I gave him a peck on the cheek—for which he glared mightily—then skipped off to spar with one of my regular partners.

I am in a bizarrely good mood today. Maybe because tomorrow we get a job! I can't wait. I'm done with this sitting-around-waiting-for-stuff-to-happen garbage. I need some action!

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October 27th, 2070—Monday

09 March 06 - 4:22 pm

Oh bother. It's that time of month again: time to call up Anastasia for lunch. I am not very close with the woman, but I feel it is in my best interest to keep in touch with her in case I ever need her services. She's good at what she does and very professional, so personal feelings should never enter into our business arrangements, but it never hurts to build up a little goodwill. And yet, for some reason, I can never help tweaking her dour Eastern-European stoicism. This is how it usually goes:

"Hallo," she answers shortly.

"Darling!" I say in my most simpering tone. "How are you? We haven't spoken in just ages."

"By my estimations, Ms. Fox," she responds, "It has been exactly 30 days since ve last communicated."

"See what I mean?" I say. "Simply too long. Do let me treat you to lunch today, won't you, Anastasia?"

At this point I could swear I detect a resigned sigh on her end. "If you insist, Ms. Fox," she finally says.

"Oh, I do! See you at 1300!"

I think she knows I'm just messing with her. Whenever we've had to do real business transactions, I've been just as professional as she, on which occasions she has been known to unbend enough to award me with a grave smile.

I took her out for sushi. The problem with all casual conversations between a fixer and a shadowrunner conducted in public is that they are by necessity either encoded to the point of unintelligibility or completely fabricated. That was of course the case with our lunch today. The only items of note that I could tell her were that "business" was going well, I have a few new "coworkers," and our new "boss" was keeping us busy. She nodded, indicating she understood.

"Very good," she said. "I am happy to hear your new job is going so vell. Of course let me assure you that if you ever need a good recommendation, I vould be glad to provide it. You have done good vork for me."

"Oh, you haven't heard the last from me, Anastasia," I laughed. "I couldn't live without these monthly lunches to look forward to!" She gave me a tiny, pained smile before turning her attention to the spicy tuna rolls on her plate.

The rest of our conversation I just invented between mouthfuls of dragon rolls to fill up the empty air and to get under her skin. Sometimes I really do enjoy these monthly dates.

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October 26th, 2070—Sunday

09 March 06 - 4:18 pm

The weather was so beautiful today, I picked up Victor and headed out to the foothills for a hike. It was dazzling: the leaves all the shades of fire, the air clear as crystal with just a hint of the ocean's salty tang, and the adoring, adorable grin on Victor's face... It felt good to be alive. We picnicked on apples, cheese, and bread like old-time French farmhands, not a crumb of soy to be found. We climbed and hiked for hours and when I finally got home, I was actually tired like a normal person and looking forward to curling up in bed. sigh... a memorable day.

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October 25, 2070—Saturday

05 March 06 - 3:22 pm

A call from Delta woke me up around 10 am: she’d set up a meet with Gabel at 1800 so I was free until then. The first thing I did after breakfast and a shower was call Victor for a lunch date and game of racketball. He seemed as happy to see me as I was him; we spent the remainder of our afternoon at his place.

At about 1715, I reluctantly departed for Dank’s Dive. I arrived just as Hitomi and Lou did and we entered together. The clientele was light around dinnertime, but then the clientele is always light at this place. I imagine it only stays afloat because Gabel makes sure it does. He was in the backroom as usual, as were Jerk and Delta, with a tray of beer mugs ready for us. Always the courteous host.

“Good evening,” he greeted us and waved for us to sit down. “I trust your business went well in CalFree?”

“I believe so,” Delta began with a trace of hesitation. “Mr. Johnson certainly thought so and thanked us for our efforts.”

“Indeed,” said Gabel. “Mr. Johnson had nothing but praise for you when we spoke. You seem to have done admirably.”

“We even ended up getting paid,” she began, and we saw Gabel’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You did? By whom?”

So Del filled him in on the mysterious foreknowledge of KSAF and their unexpected arrival and generosity. “We thought maybe you had something to do with that, but it appears not,” she finished.

“No,” he said pensively, “no, I didn’t contact them. There have been rumors…” Then he shook his head as if to clear it, smiled at us, and handed over a certified credstick. “Let me also express my thanks for the fine job you did. I have another mission for you if you are interested. It may involve some more travel.”

“So long as it doesn’t take us to Denver,” I said, “I don’t mind.”

“Denver?” he said in mild surprise.

“It seems the attack on the Orkland street fair was orchestrated by a Yakuza cell in Denver. I don’t wish to be involved.”

“Attack…? I think perhaps you should tell me the whole story.”

So we did. He thanked us for the information and left with a thoughtful expression on his down-turned face, promising to get in touch with us by Wednesday.

The credstick had 10K nuyen on it which we immediately divvied up equally among us and the team fund. After wrapping up business and drinking the beer Gabel had so graciously provided us, I stretched and asked, “Does anyone have a tap on a good Halloween party going on tonight?” Delta acknowledged she’d received a few invitations to costume parties today, so we picked a couple and agreed to meet after going to our homes to find something to wear.

It was a blast. I scrounged together a Valkyrie outfit from previous costumes, Hitomi was in full kabuki theater regalia and make-up, and Delta was dressed as a magician with hypnotically spinning eyes. Lou had constructed a neat, transparent glamour of a wolf that he superimposed over himself. Jerk, on the other hand, had nearly refused to come to the party, muttering something about Babylon, so even after I’d coaxed him into it, he didn’t really get into the spirit of the whole thing. His feeble attempt to dress up was a colorful Rasta tam jammed over his dreadlocks and a pair of  tiny, round sunglasses pushed down his nose. Good enough for me! It was a great party.

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October 24, 2070—Friday

04 March 06 - 10:30 pm

Finally! We geared up as much as we dared and headed downtown to the fair around noon. Knight Errant was highly visible and stopping most people at the gates. Fortunately, they were just frisking, not wanding, so Hitomi and her body full of quasilegal cyberware got in without incident. The guy patting me down was young and cute, so I winked at him when he finished and murmured, “Do that again.” He flushed and stammered and had no idea what to do. I laughed and walked into the fairgrounds.

The first order of business was to make contact with Brick. We found him by following Jerk’s unerring nose to the hot-pretzel booth, which Brick was managing. He gave us complimentary pretzels—delicious with hot mustard—and again thanked us for warning them and keeping an eye out. He insisted on turning the stand over to a younger ork from the community center and acting as our tour guide. He excitedly showed us the highlights of the fair, which had booths hawking all manner of carnival treats and some rides like those vomit-inducing spinning teacups. I noticed a greater number of humans and even elves attending than I would have expected. I can only guess that KSAF’s coverage had attracted the curious and concerned. Brick treated us to a ride on the Ferris wheel which loomed magnificently over the whole proceedings. It gave us a great perspective of the whole fair from above, but as a ride it is far too tame for my tastes.

We were just disembarking when screams came from several yards away, accompanied by threatening shouts in Japanese. Hitomi angrily translated for us: “Fragging metahuman roundeyes!” We immediately ran toward the commotion as panicked fairgoers streamed passed us. I had expected to find a couple naughty Humanis thugs terrorizing the good people of this neighborhood. I was a little surprised when we instead encountered eight well-armed ninjas surrounding four downed KE personnel. No kidding. They had katanas and wore black form-fitting body amour with masks and everything. I would have laughed at the silly pretentiousness of their costumes but I was too busy grinning my maniac head off and falling into a fighting crouch.

“Heh,” I said, teeth bared. “This day is looking up. Bring it, you little Humanis weasels.”

Jerk and Delta immediately whipped out their hold-out pistols and began firing, and half the ninjas dropped their swords in favor of firearms as well. They moved really bloody fast and before I could even move, Delta had received a blow to the head and Lou has a sword sticking out of his stomach. Hitomi screeched like a devil and in the most beautiful lightening move I have ever seen, knocked aside her attacker’s sword with a negligent swat and emptied her clip into his chest. She was pissed. I was impressed to note that even with a few feet of steel protruding from his belly, Lou managed to call up some kind of whirl of wind to his defense.

I had two ninjas on me, and while I was able to hold them off spectacularly, I wasn’t much use to my comrades. Tomi, on the other hand, was cutting through them like wheat; anyone who was between her and her husband ended up hamburger. Fortunately Lou can take care of himself: a nasty-looking, black snake-dog suddenly appeared at his side and began ravaging the ninjas like an angry Hitomi.

The guy on my left swung at my head, but I caught his arm. Pumping as much magic as I could handle into my actions, I wrenched and twisted it until I heard a sickening crunch and his arm fell uselessly to his side. He screamed like a child, but that was nothing compared to what he got from Lou’s little beastie, which locked its jaws on his shoulder and dragged him to the ground with a wet thud.

I looked around at my comrades and saw Jerk on the ground with that faraway look he gets when he’s hacking, Tomi with a her hand to her shoulder like she had been shot, and Lou on his knees holding his stomach. It looked a bit grim, but the tides turned almost immediately.

My remaining attacker shouted, “For the Gumi!” waved his gun insanely at my face, and completely missed. I planted my fist in his gut, rupturing some sort of necessary organ in the process. Hitomi blew off her shooter’s face. Lou’s beastie chased down and started eating one of the ninja’s faces.

The last guy took a look at the carnage around him and just bolted. Lou threw up a physical barrier in front of him and we had a wonderful comedic moment when the ninja bounced right off of it. He sprang up again quick as a fox and navigated around the barrier before we could catch up to him. At that moment, just as Lou was about to throw something else at him, Jerk called us back, telling us to let the poor bastard go.

“Mi gotta track on de boi, mon!” he said. “I and I jest follow him real casual-like, yeah?”

So the beastie at my side dissipated and I ran back to the scene. Delta was checking for pulses among the Knight Errand security guards, Hitomi was hovering over Lou with an intense expression on her face, and the crowd of fairgoers was dispersed. I could hear sirens in the distance.

“Lou, you going to make it?” I asked tensely. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He glowed blue for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, I’m alright. I fixed it.” He was right. The flesh under his jacket was now whole and unmarked. I grinned.

“Good work, man,” I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Now get up. The bells are ringing.”

We booked it out of there. Jerk said Mr. Ninja was heading for a cab stand, so we followed several blocks away and grabbed our own taxi. As we sped through the streets of Orkland on a parallel course, Jerk tapped into the guy’s call. He was evidently reporting to an older Japanese gentleman using a voice mask. “Entire team destroyed,” Jerk relayed. “I’m leaving the area. Requesting orders.”

“Mi trace de call,” Jerk muttered to us. “Mi tink im from Denver.” Then suddenly he was slumped over in a disconcerting manner, and it took a few seconds for us to rouse him to sensibility. He finally moaned and told us that he had been violently dumped as the connection was broken off. The older man had sensed Jerk hacking in and terminated the contact. We didn’t realize how permanently he had terminated the contact until we came upon the crash site. It looked like the driver had let go of the wheel and plowed into on-coming traffic, creating a huge pile-up on the freeway. The report will say that he fell asleep or lost control, but we know that he was dead before he even impacted.

Delta instructed the taxi to take us back to the hotel as we reviewed the footage. Jerk ran a few filters and magnified the image of the Japanese gentleman. “Yakuza,” he breathed as he looked at the chrysanthemum pin glittering on his lapel. “I had heard they be in Denver.”

“Yakuza!” I said. “That’s it, we are done with this mission. I want nothing to do with them.”

“I agree,” Delta said. “It’s time to go home.”

At the hotel, as we were packing up, Delta flipped on the trid to see if any of our antics had gotten on the news. Phillipa Stone of KSAF was indeed reporting from our battleground; behind her we could see four smoking corpses which she told us all bore the same ritual tattoos: a stylized symbol for wind with a distinctive hatch-mark in it.

“I am unfamiliar with the symbol,” she said, “but be assured, viewers, that KSAF will investigate!”

I switched off the trid and said, “Let’s get out of here. I want some dinner before we get on the train.”

I am delighted to say that the trip back to Seattle was uneventful. We got back late at night and scattered sleepily to our respective homes. I sank gratefully into my huge, soft bed and fell into a deep, happy sleep.

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October 23, 2070—Thursday

03 March 06 - 1:26 pm

I hate waiting. I'm stuck in San Francisco with nothing to do, just hanging around waiting for it to be Friday. It's miserable. I couldn't even sleep in because Lou is a fragging morning person and I sleep too lightly to ignore his banging around in the kitchenette. I joined him grumpily and between the two of us we managed to conjure up an omelette-type substance from the soy-packet vending machine in the hall.

After that, I didn't have much to do but exercise. I went through all my kum-do forms, ran a few miles, did some push-ups and sit-ups, wrestled with Hitomi, and went dancing in the evening. The only interesting thing that happened all day was when the evening news came on: Phillipa Stone's report on the MCT/Humanis scandal, including her interview with Delta. We agreed it was tastefully done and that there was no way anyone would be able to recognize Del from that tape. I found Phillipa's disapproval of MCT's methods and motivations reassuring; not everyone in this world is a hateful racist.

That was it for today. I am looking forward to this stupid street fair like it's Christmas.

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October 22, 2070—Wednesday

02 March 06 - 11:37 pm

Lazy day. Not much to report. Delta and Hitomi killed the morning watching the trid, some garbage vote-the-loser-off show. I don’t know what Lou was doing in the bedroom. Communing, I guess. Whether with his wolf totem or his own inner angry-protester, I couldn’t say. So, since Jerk seemed as uninterested in the trid as I was, we went out for a walk in the neighborhood. It was quite interesting talking to him, when I could muddle through his accent; he has such clear and easy beliefs about how the world works and what is good and bad that I was almost mesmerized. I don’t agree with a single one myself, but it doesn’t matter. He believes without reservation and that is quite beguiling.

I was delighted when we stumbled upon a children’s playground during our constitutional. Swings had always been my favorite when I was small enough to fit in them—the feeling of flying being the most exhilarating thing I could experience at that age—but now I headed directly for the monkey bars. Jerk watched in amused bemusement as I swung up onto the bars and started going through the old routines: handstand, splits, flip down, release, 180, circle, handstand again… I grinned; this was more fun than I remembered.

“How you learn dis creation steppin' dawta?” Jerk asked me during a handstand. I circled, then stood again.

“My mother insisted on gymnastics when I was a girl,” I answered before doing another 180. “Gymnastics is a thing that rich young girls do, you see. It was either that or those dreadful beauty pageants, and those were just too vulgar to consider.” Splits, rotate hands. “She was very competitive, so I was too.” I executed a particularly difficult routine, released, and landed perfectly. “I always won, as you can imagine.”

Jerk chuckled. “Ya, mi imagine dat. Mi pity dem gal tryan beatcha.”

I grinned. “Me too.”

We walked on.

When we returned to the hotel, we heard the tail-end of a report Lou was giving the other girls; apparently his watcher had just come back to say that “meat was touching the black spot.” Upon his investigation, Lou determined that it was Knight Errant disarming the proto-bomb, not the bad guys trying to arm it.

“KE?” I said in disbelief. “When have they ever managed to observe anything beyond the warts on their noses?”

Just then Jerk got a buzz on his commlink. “Skraa, boi,” he said to whomever-it-was. He nodded and grinned and (I assume, but who can tell?) thanked his caller. When he disengaged, he informed us that that was Brick, confirming what Lou had just told us: Knight Errant had gotten Jerk’s signal and found the bomb.

“What?” said Lou. “What signal?”

“De beeper mi by-n-by. Mi tink im wanna see it, ya?”

“Zut alors, tu cretin,” Lou muttered under his breath. “And now how are we to catch the people who set the bomb in the first place?”

Jerk shrugged. “Betta da bomb gaan. Betta fi de pickney likkle ones.”

We all glared at him for a minute, but it wasn’t worth getting too angry. We weren’t hired to find out who the enemy was, so it didn’t really matter. Jerk seemed singularly unconcerned with our ire, as he grinned and said that Brick had invited us to the festivities. I have no idea what this street fair entails, but I had intended to partake anyway, invitiation or no.

It was about that point that the announcer for whatever excruciating show was flashing on the trid at the time decided to launch into a loud, falsely cheerful introduction of a pack of thrill-seeking kids as they were about to do some idiotic bodily harm to themselves. In disgust, I announced I was going out to a shooting range and was surprised to hear that everyone else wanted to join in. So that’s what we did that afternoon. Hitomi could kick all our asses any day of the week, and Delta was getting pretty good herself. Lou and Jerk, on the other hand, could definitely use the practice. I should make sure that they get at least weekly sessions from now on.

I could have kept practicing for hours, but the rest got bored much sooner. Hitomi in particular was itching to see San Francisco’s sights, so I reluctantly holstered my pistol and followed. I conclude that it is a pleasant city; the hills, the smell of the ocean, and sourdough are wonderful and there was even some fun nightlife. But Seattle has my heart and I will never leave her for a pretty little bit with no grit like SF.

I refrained from calling Victor tonight, thinking it might help my homesickness. It didn’t.

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