The Magic Touch
Copywrite 2006
Trigger looked up at the sky and scowled. He always did when
it started to rain, and it always helped. If you count getting raindrops
in your eyes as “help”, that is.
“Frag”, he swore, looking for a store he hadn’t been
tossed from. It rained at least a bit most every day in
He checked his cred-stick, hoping that the balance had somehow
magically changed since the last time he’d looked, but it showed the same
depressingly low balance. He could have a roof over his head, or he could
eat, not both.
His misery was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. “Trig’”, he answered, trying to sound cool instead of cold.
“Hey Trigger, how’s it hangin?” came the voice over the
phone.
“Wet.” he replied shortly. “What’s up ‘Fredo?”
“I’ve got a friend who needs a friend. You friendly?” came the smooth reply. “A little
S&R job, clean and neat.”
“How big is the pie?” Trigger lied, pretending that he might not
take the job. Search and recover jobs weren’t too popular, but at least
they didn’t involve killing people. Usually.
“Four slices, all equal. Sinbad servings, if you’re in.”
“Hey, for you Fredo, anything.”
Trigger replied casually, already calculating what 7 C’s would do for his
lifestyle. “When’s the M&G?”
“Meet and greet at triplets in the Tok’, address on the
wire. Your Johnson likes to yak a bit, so don’t be late.”
After the click, Trigger checked the address ‘Fredo had sent over,
and knew what to do. He’d spend his money on a roof, so he could clean
up. Three o’clock would come soon enough, and if
he was meeting with a Yakuza, he needed to look good. Hungry he could be,
but sloppy or late were out of the question.
“Hey baby,
don’t you like it? You want the cred,
you better like it.” The slurred voice
muttered against her neck, clumsy hands groping for the trace of fabric that
pretended to be her blouse. Damn! Who’d have suspected this stoned out Jack
would resist her spell, Halo thought bitterly.
She hated doing it in the meat anymore. At least, like this she did. Sometimes in the late night she wondered why,
if elves and magic could exist in this world, fairy princesses and knights in
shining armor couldn’t.
A particularly forceful grope brought her back to the present
ugliness. She moaned a little, with
just the right inflection as she ran through her options.
He’d resisted her sleep spell and her mind-control spell…chances
were good he’d resist anything else she did but straight damage. If she killed him, word could get out and her
clientele would become wary.
He’d managed to get her shirt off and was beginning to undo his
pants; his breathing becoming heavy and uncertain as his excitement overtaxed
his compromised lungs. 2 more fractured
breaths and he sagged against her, hands falling limply to his sides.
She lowered him to the ground and checked his pulse…still
living. That had been a close call. She began to go through his pockets. Cred stick, card-key, and some tacky jewelry
found their way into her purse. There
was also some paper that showed scribblings of a spell on it and a data
card.
Well, that explained a lot,
she thought. She bagged the scrap of
paper for her own studies and with a quick glance around to make sure they were
still alone she muttered the small spell that changed her appearance. Blond ice princess this time, she thought as
she moved out of the alleyway and down the street.
The hole that Trigger climbed into for the time he had to spare
wasn’t much, but it had a shower and a ‘fresher. He cleaned up, changed
into his only spare shirt, and spent his last credit on a soypro bar from the
vending machine. It wasn’t much, but would keep his stomach from growling
at the meeting.
He hopped on the bike he’d liberated on his last run and rode off
to Little Tokyo.
The address turned out to be an “abandoned” building, which in
this part of town meant that the Yakuza owned it and chose not to rent it out
to anyone. A matched pair of Asian gentlemen in a matching pair of suits
stood by the door, to keep the riff-raff out. Showing a confidence he
didn’t really feel, Trigger smoothed his wheels to an easy stop, and walked
past them like he owned the place. They let him.
“Trigger”, he identified himself to the businessman inside, giving
a slight bow. He spoke Japanese, but knew never to translate a
name.
The others around the table looked up. One was a man of
muscular build in a glittering shirt of woven steel. His weathered face
was masked by mirror shades that matched the shirt, and his dirty-blonde hair
was worn in that blown-back style that you never actually got from riding a
bike.
The second man was a sort of human ball. Short, round
shouldered, overweight, with small beady eyes that shone like the polished
steel they were. He had what must have been eight data ports in an arch
over his left ear, and may have had more on the other side. A small drone
hovered behind him; it’s near silent support fans stirring the dust beneath
it.
“My name is Johnson.” the businessman began. These are HVI
and Hardwire. Mr. Singer should be here momentarily, and then we can
begin.”
“I’m here.” came a voice from the
corner. “Been here for a while now. And
it’s just Singer, no mister, miss or miz.” The emptiness of the area
dissolved to reveal a heavyset woman in a purple-grey long coat. Tattoos
laced their way over the shaven half of her head, and looked like they
continued beneath the half-mop of jet-black hair that hung down past her
shoulder on the other side.
“Impressive.” said Johnson, clearly not impressed. “If I
need someone for an infiltration job, I’ll call you. Until then, I don’t
need show offs. Your services will not be required.”
Singer raised a single eyebrow and swept out of the room without
another word.
“As the work load for each has increased, so will the pay, should
you accept this assignment.” Mr. Johnson
continued. “A data chip has been stolen from us. One of our
couriers got careless, and engaged the services of a young lady. He has
been dealt with. Your job is to deal with her.”
“Four ‘W’s and an ‘H”, Mr. Johnson”, asked HVI.
“Who, what, where, when, and how.” translated Trigger, seeing the
momentary confusion on Johnson’s face. He said it in Japanese, to ease
any embarrassment the man might feel. He was clearly a corporate type, so
street slang was a foreign language to him.
“The woman’s identity is unknown, but she apparently works a
string of clubs and bars between here and Little India.” explained Johnson,
making a smooth recovery. “Our courier met her at Ovitz Orbital, and she
robbed him in an alley out back. She either used magic on him, or has a
partner who did it for her. The theft occurred last evening.”
“That leaves ‘what’, sir.” smiled Hardwire with a smirking grin.
“The data chip is a standard MSBT2117, and bears a lion standard.”
Johnson said, as if hoping nobody would ask this obvious question. “The
contents were encrypted, so we don’t expect that they will be uncovered any
time soon. Other details have been provided.” he finished, passing out
data chips to all, along with cred-sticks carrying partial payment.
“Any chance we could talk to this courier, to get a more personal
description?” Hardwire asked, sweat gleaming from his near-bald head.
“You may talk to him if you choose, but he is no longer able to
answer,” said Johnson curtly, clearly unhappy that he had to belabor the
obvious.
As the runners prepared to leave, one of the twin guards touched
Trigger’s sleeve, and indicated that he should wait.
“Mr. Trigger.” the guard explained, speaking in quiet
Japanese. “My name is Johnson. My employee wishes to thank you for
the timely aid. I also wish to tell you your part in this.”
“I was wondering.” nodded the Elf, also in Japanese. “This
doesn’t look like a job for a shooter like me. Not that I’m complaining,
of course.”
“You will work with the others, and complete the recovery.” the
man explained. “But when it is over, you will terminate any and all who
have even attempted to read and copy or decrypt the contents of that data
chip. This may include your fellow runners, though I hope that it
doesn’t. Good help is hard to find. You will be paid for this extra
service, of course.”
“Hai. Domo”, Trigger
agreed, bowing as he left.
He met with the others, trying to hide his reaction.
None saw the form that
faded into view in the now-empty meeting hall. The heavy woman with the
tattooed scalp nodded to herself, and left on a mission of her own.
This is a nice
room, Halo thought to herself as she rolled the unconscious man off her and sat
up. She’d let him get a little further with her because he’d been
sweet. He’d also been too heavy for her to lift. She hadn’t wanted him to fall and be hurt
when she put him to sleep, so they’d made it to the bed.
She looked around a little. A sim projector, holo phone and
surround emo-stereo enhanced the comfortable furnishings. Dang but the
corps paid their wage-slaves well to afford a hotel room like this.
Checking out the bathroom she let out a low whistle. A
real water bath, not just a fresher and a shower.
10 minutes later she sank into the water with a happy sigh.
There had been a little sachet of something foamy and fragrant and the bubbles
tickled her skin as she leaned back, humming a song she'd heard that she
thought was called “Super Crack”. After a few minutes of soaking away the
dirt of the street, both literal and figurative, she reached for her bag.
Pulling out the day’s take she sorted through the items with
slightly soapy fingers. 4 cred sticks, though when she checked the balances all
but one were much lower than she’d hoped.
That one was higher than she’d expected though. She remembered
vaguely the man she’d taken it from. Some squint that
hadn’t had much else on him. Only some data-card that would be
difficult to put on the rail, but anything the fence could get her would be a
bonus. She picked up the card. It was rather pretty with the 2 lions, maybe she’d take a look at what was on it later
tonight.
There was also some jewelry, a cel that would have to be discarded
and 2 sim cards that one of them had just bought, probably as gifts since
generally they were downloaded off the wire.
“
Setting her stash aside she soaked for another 30 and then
reluctantly climbed out and let the dryer do its job on her. She
gathered her scattered clothing from the other room and put it through the
fresher, after checking to make sure the corp-clone was still zzee’d on the
bed. Moving to the other room she looked around at the glitz and thought
about returning to the run-down flop in the hazards that she called home.
“Well citizen, I believe I’ll spend the night with you after
all.” She called to the unconscious Jack. She could keep him asleep
the rest of the night, and if he did wake up by some chance, she’d tell him
he’d been amazing and leave him thinking he’d had an incredible night of
passion.
Not bothering to get
dressed in her newly cleaned working outfit she pulled one of the Jacks shirts
from the rack and put it on. Then plomping down on the leather-look
couch, she ordered takeout with the pilfered phone and settled herself in to
watch “Elf Samurai Bubaki”.
“Seems like old times.”
commented Trigger wryly, as he joined the other two runners.
“Eh? Old times?” grunted HVI, giving the Elf a disparaging
look. “No history between us, Elf-boy. As near as I can tell,
you’re useless, which means you’re expendable. And we get a raise if I
just shoot you…”
The ill-tempered man cut himself off as his point of view
changed. Specifically, he went from viewing a scrawny Elf boy to staring
down the barrel of a gun, in the blink of an eye. And he’d never even
seen the kid move.
“I have my uses.” Trigger said easily, as he let the hammer down
and re-holstered the Predator. “What I meant was that this run is like
old times. We need to find someone, but don’t have a name, a face, a
speck of DNA or even a reliable description. Rebels
without a clue.”
Hardwire’s eyes went back to normal size as the two gunmen eased
off each other. A little friction was normal, especially with HVI, but
this run had almost ended before it began.
“So how do we get a clue?” asked HVI, still half challenging the kid.
“Two ways.” Trigger said,
holding up two fingers. “We can play her game, or we can play ours.
Her way, one of us pretends to be a rich townie and works the clubs a bit, see who tries to hook us up. Our way, we go
prowling and asking questions, while Hardwire keeps his drones up to see who skids out the back.”
“Or we can split up, hit three clubs, and watch for some Jill to
try and ‘jack somebody.” HVI countered argumentatively. “Cause Hardwire
isn’t going to look like a citizen, you don’t look old enough to be rich, and
nobody would believe I have to pay for it.”
Trigger ignored the insults and the arrogance, and considered the
argument, which actually surprised the older man.
“You’re right about playing Jack to her Jill.” he finally
agreed. “I clean up okay, and can play the citizen, but not the right
kind of citizen. You might, if we put you in a corp’ suit, but if the
shooting started you’d go from corp’ to corpse too damned fast. Armani
don’t make armor. But Jills roll their Jacks all the time. We can’t
go shooting every bim’ who blips her beau. Even if we get the right one,
she might not have the chip on her, and we’ll piss off the wrong Jack at some
point.”
HVI nodded. The kid wasn’t quite as raw as he looked.
“Okay, so you and I play heavies while Hardwire stays light. We flush the
brush and he spots the bird.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” asked Hardwire, tentatively raising a
pudgy hand.
“No!” barked HVI with an air of finality. He was in charge,
and the sooner the others learned that the better it would be. He’d
worked with Hardwire before and he usually knew his place, but this kid was
upsetting the balance. Or maybe the pudge was just dreaming of a date
with a bit of meat, instead of his usual round of just “meeting the
bits”. Virtual sex was no substitute for the real thing, no matter what
the Sim sellers tried to tell you.
They took off for the bars. It was early for the target to
be out, but you never knew. Trigger decided to leave his bike parked
where it was. Nobody would bother it, and this way he didn’t have to
worry about the cells going dead on it. He hadn’t charged it in a while,
and Hardwire’s wheels had room. HVI rode his own Raptor.
“Why do they call him HVI?” Trigger asked the pouting
rigger. “Because he comes on hard and heavy?”
“High Velocity Impact.”
Hardwire replied, as he turned to face the Elf. His control rig was in
place, so he was still “seeing” the road, no matter which way his face was
looking, but it was still unnerving. “People who don’t know him spell it
out. The rest of us call him ‘heavy’. Pronounced
the same either way.”
“Well, what was your idea?” Trigger asked, pointedly watching the
road. “We may need a plan B.”
“I was just going to pass the word that we wanted to hire her for
a party.” the Rigger replied with a smile. “We don’t need to off her,
after all. We have our fun, she has hers, and everybody gets paid.”
“We don’t know her name.” Trigger countered.
“We know five of her names.” Hardwire said with a smile.
“They were on the data chip. What we don’t know is which one is
real. It’s not like we care, though, is it? We want the package, no
matter how it’s labeled.”
“Get her to come to us. I like it. Any chance HVI
would go for it?”
“No. He wouldn’t get
to shoot anybody.” Hardwire said with a sigh. “Besides, he didn’t think
of it.”
The next afternoon Halo tiptoed out of the hotel room, leaving the
still-sleeping Jack and moved off down the street.
Her path took
her out of the Togs, past the Burbs and into the Hazards. She sighed as she stepped over some garbage
in the street that snorted and rolled over as she passed. She waved at the oldster hanging in the
doorway of her flop, but paused when he called her over.
“Hey Lube, what ya got?”
She asked as the man smiled his nearly toothless smile, the wrinkled
skin around his old data ports pouched and sagging.
“Somebody came
by lookin’ for the magic touch. Said she
could pay so I sent her your way. She
hung round a bit, but I don’t scan her now.
Where you been all night? I was
waiting for my turn.”
She shook a
playful finger at him. “You don’t got the cred Lube.”
She pinched the sagging skin of his scrawny arm. “But perhaps one day I just won’t be able to
resist your manly charms.”
He laughed and
swatted her butt as she went past and then she headed up the stairs to the tiny
room that was hers. She stopped dead
when she opened the door though, staring in surprise.
The room was
trashed. The mattress on the floor torn
to shreds and the little that she owned scattered.
She stepped
back into the hall out of range of anyone who may still be in the room, hand
groping in her purse for her gun.
Couldn’t be Lonestar...they’d have just waited rather than trashing her
flop. The bitch
looking for a mage maybe or just some gank looking for credit.
Halo moved
carefully to the doorway and peeked in, pistol held ready. No one that she could see. Cautiously she moved in and checked the main
room and the bathroom, which didn’t take long.
There was nowhere really for anyone to hide.
After she’d
made sure no one was there she looked through her stuff to see what was
salvageable. What things were still good
she packed into a bag, muttering to herself. “Frag, now I need to find new digs.” Better not to let anyone know where you
slept, especially in her line of work. Damn Lube for a talkative old fool.
After a little
more checking around, she took her leave of the ratty dive and moved off down
the street in search of a new flop, the dampening effect of the rain masking
the splash of invisible feet behind her.
A little later, as nightfall came on,
unsuccessful, depressed and wet, Halo decided that she may as well hit the
clubs. Maybe she’d get lucky and find a
Jack with a room like the last one. At
least she’d be out of the rain tonight.
She hadn’t even had a chance to rail her take yet.
She decided on
the Rama Jama this time, a nicer club near Little India. Hiding her bag of possessions in the back,
she muttered a spell and gone was the bedraggled 18-year-old. In her place stood a smooth looking Indian
girl with sensual brown eyes, long black hair and just a smattering of gold
piercings.
Sighing, she
went inside and took up a spot lounging against the bar, watching the
doorway. Her focus was on the men, so
she missed the heavyset woman who slipped in behind her.
“So what’s the name this time, kid?” asked the heavyset
blonde.
Alarms were going off in Halo’s head as she turned, but she kept
her cool. “Call me Kris.” she said, as her hand trailed into the folds of
her Sari.
“Looking for this?” smirked Singer, holding up the tiny hideaway
pistol she’d lifted from the younger woman. “Pretty toy
and good at scaring the Jacks, but not much more. Here, keep it.”
she said, tossing it back. “Let’s talk business.”
Halo caught the light pistol with her off hand, her other hand
still fingering the Talisman she’d actually been reaching for.
“I don’t do women, unless you really sweeten the tea.” she said,
maintaining her “Kris” persona.
“I’m not talking about that kind of business.” Singer
replied. “But you knew that. I’m looking for a data chip you
skimmed late-late. Two lions on it, and some decent
cred in it if you let it go now.”
“I already got 30 for it down at Repo-Depot”, Halo lied.
“It’s long gone, and you should be too. Now unless you want to pay for my
time, I have friends waiting.” She turned to leave, knowing what came
next.
Singer reached out, reflexively, and grabbed the young girl’s
arm. Halo twisted her wrist to reverse the grip, the hidden talisman in
her palm. She felt the drain as her spell triggered, dumping what
amounted to a pocket lightning bolt into the older woman. Being grabbed
at by men was a hazard of the trade, and she knew how to handle it.
Singer gasped and let go, staggered by the enchantment, even as
her reflexes counter-spelled. The little witch might not have the
repertoire of a more hardened Mage, but she had enough raw talent to give her
spell a real kick.
“Kris” was moving, fast, towards the rear. That spell was
her normal court of last resort, and had chilled Trolls before, but the heavy
blonde was only stunned by it. This was a problem. She grabbed her
bag as she ran past, trying to shake off her own mental fatigue.
“Problem, Kris?” asked the manager as she brushed by him.
“Yeah, some bitch thinks I Jilled her Jack.” she lied. “I’m
headed to Karma Pool, Danny. Don’t let her follow
Okay, that would either get Danny a few credits for the false
lead, or get him hurt. She kind of hoped for hurt. But she knew
that the Runner probably had backup, either by the door itself, or
nearby. And her Mask spell wouldn’t fool even a Street Mage for
long. She grabbed another Talisman, this one of fine silk and silver beads.
“I was saving you for Prince Charming.” she muttered. “But I gotta get
past the Wicked Witch first.”
She dropped her Mask and
invoked the little thing, the special Talisman providing what her mind
couldn’t. Instantly her clothes changed. She was cleaned her makeup
fixed and her hair done just right. In moments she’d had a complete
makeover, high style all the way. And unlike her Mask, this one was
real. Her own mother might know her, but nobody else would. She
just hoped that the change hadn’t been observed. That kind of Fetish was damned expensive. She swore she’d
learn that spell some day, for real. Someday, but
probably not today.
From his
vehicle parked near the alley, Hardwire leaned back; unseeing eyes focussed on
the misty windshield in front of him.
His mind was engaged with the drones he had scanning the back doors and
alleys of the 3 hot spots in this section, while Trigger and HVI played the
front door guys.
The Karmic
Retribution had the best lit alley, although his attention currently was on some
action going on behind the Red Lady bar.
“Oh, baby, don’t stop yet.” He
whispered to the images in his mind, sweat beading on his lip. Maybe he should start hanging at these joints
in the future…
A bit of
motion fed to him from the drone behind the Rama Jama drew his attention from
the ‘action’ he’d been watching. He had
the feed zoom in, the night lens catching what looked like an Indian girl who’d
probably just come through the door that was swinging shut behind her.
She was alone
and his attention almost wandered back to the more stimulating view behind the
Red Lady when she changed. For the
briefest moment he saw what seemed to be a disheveled young girl. Then she transformed once again into a
vision. The only thing out of place was
the bag she carried with her.
Looking
around herself carefully she moved out of the alley and then with a confident
stride, moved off down the street towards the Karmic Retribution.
“Hey,
Trigger, HVI, I think I’ve found the bird in the bush of Karmic Retribution. You two want to come take it in hand? He whispered into the comlink. He hoped they didn’t have to kill the girl. In fact, he’d much rather have done it his
way, would have been more fun.
As he was
watching Halo, he almost missed the second figure to come bursting out of that
door. A heavy blond woman, who shimmered
and became a familiar, heavy dark-haired woman. One in a temper as well, as
she pounded the wall in frustration at the empty alleyway.
“Singer, on the double cross?” He
raised what was left of his eyebrows. “Hey, guys, we have another bird here. A big magic crow that thinks it can
‘sing’. I think our bird is on the
run. Perhaps we should try it my
way?” He added hopefully.
Halo crossed
the street walking with a confidence she didn’t feel, eyes keeping watch for a
tail. Even the street mage wouldn’t be
able to recognize her now. Really, she
could have just stayed at the Rama Jama.
Would have been fun to watch the fireworks if there were any. But, with no idea who the mage was working
with, this seemed the smarter way.
She reached
into her bag and touched the data chip.
So it was a wanted item. Who’d
have thought it was that important.
She’d looked at it back at the hotel room, but hadn’t been able to get
past the encryption, she was certainly no decker. But, it would be good to know what was on
it. Perhaps it was big enough to bring
in a whole herd. That would be a nice
change.
With a last quick glance around her, she swept into the club, as
regal as a queen.
“Thanks Hardwire.” Trigger replied.
“Hey, HVI”, he said, interrupting the larger man as he was leaning
on the bartender.
“What?” came the snarling reply.
“Easy, easy, you’ll pop a breaker.” Trigger said, holding his
hands up in a calming motion. “Hardwire has eyes on our bit o’ tail over
at KR, and she has a tail of her own. Singer’s trying to steal our
run. Which one do you want?”
HVI spun and bolted for the door. “I’ll take the bird,
you take the tail.” he called as he sprinted past.
“What’s with him?” asked the bartender, as he straightened
himself up.
“He hasn’t killed anyone all day, and he’s afraid he’ll lose his
touch.” laughed Trigger. Then he hit the com-link.
“Hey Hardwire, which way did the little
bird fly?” he asked, heading out at a more leisurely pace. Hurrying was
always a mistake.
“She left the Rama Jama and is heading straight for you.” came the confirmation. “Our song-boid flipped her coin
and headed towards Karmic Retribution.”
Trigger stopped in his tracks. “You said the bird flew the
KR coop. When did she hit Rama Jama?” he asked, a bit confused.
“Sorry for the gutter-ball, but I had some gutter-balling on my
mind.” came the apology. “I have a drone on the bird, and one on the
song. Bird’s headed towards you at the Krishna Conscienceless, and our
competition is heading for KR.”
“Okay, I’ll try to net the bird, you com’ to HVI and let him know
what he’s walking into.”
“Won’t work.” the Rigger warned. “His chatter is off.
He always does that.”
“Well, buzz him with a drone. It’s got a speaker, doesn’t
it?”
“I’ll send my boom-boot out.” confirmed Hardwire.
In the van, the sweating man now divided his attention four ways
instead of three. The boom-boot drone was normally just a music box that
followed you around, but his had a few extras. He happily engaged one of
them now, and enjoyed the virtual rush of speed and acceleration as it sped
after HVI. “Who else would put afterburners in you baby.” he said, as he
watched the world rush by.
He saw HVI look up at the drone, anger in his eyes. A flash
of movement, a flash of muzzle discharge, and then he saw nothing.
-----
HVI was in a flat run, his legs driving him tirelessly towards his
prey. Let the wimp kid deal with Singer. She’d sing him to sleep
but good. If he was lucky, she’d be giving him another pay raise.
But as he rounded the corner he heard a roar and a whoosh behind
and overhead.
“Damn you, Hardwire!” he snarled. Didn’t that lump o’ lipid
know enough to keep his drones quiet? He spun without breaking stride,
backpedaling at full speed as he snap-drew his pistol. A single shot and
the annoyance was gone. His gun was louder than the drone had been, but
his cover was already blown anyway. He turned around again and pressed
ahead.
----
“He blew my drone, Trigger.” he warned as he activated another
drone. “Rex, seek target HVI, but do not engage.” he began, but then
changed his mind. “Cancel. Seek and salvage Bumblebee”. He
watched as the robot-lion sprang from the back of the van and headed out.
HVI and his trigger-happy temper were on their own.
And if he decided to take a shot at Rex, he’d show him what trigger happy
looked like.
“Sounds toasty, but keep the chill on.” Trigger advised,
interrupting the Rigger’s fuming. “Take it out of his pay, not his
hide. I’ll see if I can land our bird, nice and gentle.”
“Honey works better than vinegar.” agreed Hardwire.
----
Singer cursed herself for
leaving her bike behind. Sure she couldn’t make it invisible, but she
knew that she couldn’t keep running with that kid either. She huffed a bit as she headed towards the Karmic
Revolution. Then she heard the roar of what sounded like an RPG, followed
by a gunshot, both ahead. No detonation followed, which was strange, but
now she knew where her opposition was. She slowed down and altered her
course. If they had the girl, she’d just take her. If they chased
the girl back towards her, that was equally chilly. Not as easy as she’d
hoped, but worth it. She’d sell the damned chip to the Rasta-Rats, and
screw the lions both ways.
After quietly
stashing her bag behind the cred-port at the entrance, Halo moved to mingle
with the crowd inside the Krishna Conscienceless, still keeping a wary eye out
for a tail coming in the door after her.
Her mind was
not tip-top right now, due to the fatigue of the earlier spells and her first
order of business was to find a quiet place to rest…and hide for a bit. Part of why she’d chosen this particular club
to go to ground. Lots
of nice secluded booths, some even with sequined curtains and little statues of
She moved to
place the holographic Indian dancers in the center of the dance floor between
her and the door and then began to scan for an empty booth when the bouncer
tapped her on the shoulder.
“Miss, may I
help you?”
She almost
said, “Hey Chop,” but caught herself in time.
He wouldn’t recognize her like this.
Smiling at
him disarmingly she used her best citizen voice, “I’m waiting for someone, but
I’m not sure if he’s here yet. Do you
mind if I look around a bit?”
The bouncer eyed her for a moment, then a
pang of conscience set in.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” he asked quietly.
“I think she is.” cut in Trigger.
“Halo, isn’t it?”
Her hand slipped to her belt, but the Elf who’d named her took a
half step back, raising his hands in front of him as he did.
“Easy, I’m on your side.” he assured her. “The lady chasing
you is a loner named Singer. I’m not with her. My partner is out
dealing with her right now. You’re safe, and nobody here is going to hurt
you.
The bouncer, unsure what to do, stood to the
side. The skinny kid looked like he’d break real easy, but unless
he did something stupid, he wasn’t supposed to interfere.
“I need a drink.” Halo said. “Slimstim?”
“You look like you could use a bite to eat too.” Trigger agreed,
but saw the nasty look she gave him.
“Okay, you pick the menu.” he assured her. “And just to show that
I’m harmless…” He slowly, with two fingers, drew the pistol from inside
his coat and handed it to the bouncer. “Would you hold this for me?” he
asked. “I won’t be needing it.”
Halo headed to the back booth she’d had her eye on, and they
reached it before someone else took it.
“Now, what the hell is going on.” she demanded. “Some
witch-bitch trashed my pad, and now half the town’s stalking me.”
“A working girl worked a little overtime the other night, and
grabbed a bonus.” Trigger explained. “The courier she flipped was Yakuza,
and the chip she took was important. My job is to get the chip. Got no instructions about you, so we’re chilly. I’ll
pay you a fair price for it, more than it would rail, and your life goes back
to normal. I know you can slip me, but the ones who follow probably will
have your name on their list.”
“Shit.” she swore. “He was a Yak? They don’t
forget.” She sat, fighting the urge to chew her freshly manicured nails
out of nervousness. But the kid wasn’t a Yak, and he might be lying, so…”
“I want 50 for it.” she said straight up. She hadn’t been
lying when she said that Repo would have paid her 30, so this was a good
deal. She could get some puff, hit the ferry, and be out of here.
“I was thinking more like a C.” Trigger smiled back. He knew
what it was to be broke, and he had money right now. The cred stick was
in his hands. “And if you want, I’ll escort you to the Lions, and you can
make your peace with them. We have wheels, and we can take you there
direct. Like I said, you can get your life back.”
Her drink arrived, but the bouncer stayed noticeably nearby, just
in case.
“Yes on the price, but no on the rest.” she said. “I’ve got
all my own fingers right now, and I’m not gonna lose any to an apology.”
“Fair enough.” agreed Trigger. He transferred the Cred to
her stick, and accepted the chip from her. Then he hit the local chat.
“We’re done here.” he sigged to Hardwire. “She had the chip,
now she has the creds.”
“What’s on that thing anyway?” she asked as he rose. “I
tried to read it, but it’s all garbage.”
Trigger stopped as a chill washed over him. “I wish you
hadn’t told me that,” he said quietly. “Did you try and decrypt it at
all?”
“No. I don’t have a Deck, just the chip slot on my
phone.”
“Good. We’re still clear then,” he said. He really
hadn’t wanted to shoot this kid. Okay, she was probably older than he was,
but she was in way over her head.
“So you called everyone off?” she asked, almost believing that
this was over.
“I called my people off. Singer’s still out there, with
whomever she brought on board. You should stay low until tomorrow
night. By then the word will be out.”
“No, she isn’t out there.” came a voice from nowhere. “I’m right here.”
HVI groaned and sat up. It
took him a moment to get his bearings, and another moment to zap himself with a stim pack and stand shakily to his feet. Once the stim kicked in, so did his
memory. Damn bitch whore mage! Singer was going to die, slowly watching her
life leak away while he gloated. She
probably scanned that she’d fragged him with that last blast, but he was HVI
and no little punk-assed witch was going to take him out.
Turning on his com, he buzzed Hardwire. “Where’d the witch go?” He snarled.
Hardwire started, he hadn’t been expecting that voice. “Which witch?”
“Don’t get funny with me baldy.
Singer, which way did Singer go?”
Hardwire quick scanned his drones.
“I don’t see her anywhere. May be best to hook with Trigger at the Krishna Conscienceless. He bagged the bird and has the card. We’re done.”
Hardwire cringed as HVI began cursing.
HVI could feel his blood boiling.
That punk elf had hit the target first.
He was HVI and that couldn’t be allowed to happen. It was his job, his bird and no sissy elf and
no bitch witch were going to steal his thunder.
He’d kill them all first and get a nice pay raise!
He only vaguely heard Hardwire’s voice blabbing at him before he
turned his con off again. Kill them all
first…his rage building he moved stumbling towards the KC.
Hardwire buzzed
Trigger. “Trig, bad news. You’ve got a heavy hand coming your way and
it’s not smiley.”
Trigger heard the news, unsure whether it was good or bad.
But that was a problem for later. Right now he had enough bad news.
“I’m taking the chip and the girl, Trigger, “
Singer said. Then she looked at the Troll, who had a slightly
glazed look in his eyes, and said, “Take him!”
Chop had been eyeing the Elf for a bit, trying to decide which
part of him to break first. He chose… everything. His huge right
hand smashed forward into the skinny kid’s ribs with enough force to shatter an
oak tree.
But somehow it didn’t work as planned. Halo and Singer both
opened their eyes in surprise when the slight Elf slipped the punch and danced
back, hands poised for combat.
“I grew up with this kind of thing.” he half laughed, trying to
keep them from seeing how much that actually had hurt. Body armor was
nice and all, and he had indeed grown up at the
“Don’t hurt him.” Halo cried, not exactly sure which of them she
was talking to.
“Yes, hurt him.” Singer ordered, her spell completely dominating
the Troll’s mind. “Shoot him with his own gun.”
Chop pulled Trigger’s pistol from his belt, surprised by the lack
of a Smartlink, and tried to sight in on the boy. To his surprise he
found himself staring down the barrel of another gun.
“Bang!” said Trigger. “You’re dead.” Then he moved his hand
a blur of motion as he shifted his aim and fired.
Singer stood in shock, then slowly
crumpled.
“Beat the mind, and the body doesn’t matter,” he said, as if
quoting an old proverb. With a whirr-click, the power-holster slid the
gun back into his sleeve.
Chop reacted to the sudden freedom of his mind the way Trolls
react to most things. Violently.
“I matter!” he roared, as he pulled the trigger.
“Whuff”, gasped Trigger as the impact drove the wind from
him.
“Chop, no, he isn’t the one. Stop!” cried Halo, trying to
summon Sleep magic. She managed it, despite her fatigue, and Chop
staggered. He was barely up, and the gun clattered to the floor from his
near-nerveless fingers, but he was still standing.
Trigger strove to breathe. His gun had been loaded with Gel
rounds, which tended not to kill, but still hurt like hell. So Singer was
still alive, and so was he, but neither was happy. The difference was he
was still awake to feel the pain. Then, like swallowing a stone, he got
that first breath back inside, and things began to
work again.
“My partner’s coming”, he gasped out, pulling himself
upright. “E&E now, before…” He now looked around. The
entire bar had gone still, and people were peeking out from under tables and
around corners. Gunfire tends to do that.
“Let’s go.” Halo said,
taking charge. She swept up the gun from the floor, and half dragged the
winded Elf out the back door.
HVI came
bursting in the front door, which sent the patrons under their tables yet
again. He stalked around the room, weapon at the ready until he came across the
unconscious body of Singer and the drooping Troll.
With a roar he
grabbed Singer by the front of her shirt and lifted her from the floor, gun to
her head. “Where’s the girl?” When she didn’t answer he shook her, her head
lolling back and forth, and asked again louder.
“Where’s the girl?”
“Out the back,”
slurred the half-asleep Troll in answer.
“Frag!” swore
the big man, dropping Singer and sprinting for the back door. He’d deal with her later,
first he wanted that damn girl and the damn chip.
Halo dragged
Trigger to the mouth of the alley. “Where’s your wheels?”
She asked.
“2 blocks up,
head of the street.” He panted, still
struggling to take a deep breath past the pain in his chest. Then he buzzed Hardwire. “We need a pickup.”
“You ok?”
Hardwire asked focusing his drone on the couple. Trig didn’t look so good. She did though… Trigger rasped another breath, “Yeah, just a
bit winded.”
The slam of the
door in the alley behind them sounded loudly, but the pounding feet coming up
the alley sounded louder to Halo’s ears.
“QIB,” Trigger
whispered to the rigger as Halo dragged him back a pace and into the
‘entertainer’s only’ door of the next establishment, palming the lock behind
her.
“That’s not
supposed to be locked during business hours.”
Pointed out a heavily painted and scantily clad woman crossing the hallway.
“Sorry, it’s
just for a minute.”
The woman
scanned them with a callused gaze. “What
you running from?”
Halo rolled her
eyes. “His old girlfriend.” Then glancing at Trigger as he attempted to
stand up straight and look healthy she asked, “You got a room available right
now?”
“Can’t wait
eh? Men are like that.” She turned her back on the pair, missing
Triggers indignant glare as she led them to a small room 2 doors down the
hallway. Turning she stated, “10 an
hour, how long you need it?”
“An hour would
be fine.” A quick exchange of credit and
Halo locked the door behind them, then lowered Trigger onto the bed.
“My partner
should be here any sec.” He rasped, sitting up, but she put her hand on his
shoulder and pushed him back down.
“I know, but if
that witch or her partners are still out there, she could take you out before
you got your wheels going with the shape you’re in now. A few minutes to get your breath back
wouldn’t hurt you I think, and I don’t know if I can cast any more spells until
I rest either.”
She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “You had the chip, you could have left me
there and got yourself out.” She leaned
over and kissed him. “Thanks. You
know, I owe you a free one if you want it.”
She smiled mischievously at him, she knew how much boys his age didn’t want sex, and he was rather
cute. It would almost be a shame to put
him out.
HVI reached the
end of the alley and looked out. No sign
of Trigger or the girl, Frag. He was
just getting ready to sig Hardwire when the man himself pulled up in front
of the alley.
“Where’s the
scrawny elf?” He asked as the rigger
opened the door.
Hardwire had watched the pair’s escape through his drone, and had
a hard decision to make. Crossing HVI was a “career limiting decision”,
but telling him the truth in his current mood wasn’t much better. He
liked Trigger, though, so…
“Puck Shuffle”, Hardwire sweated. “Called for pickup here,
and took off in the other direction.” As he was speaking he silently
re-activated Rex. Combat inside the van was a bad idea, but not fighting
back would be a worse one.
“Track them. He’s trying to skin us.” lied HVI.
“Rover and Dover are on the job, Rita’s on her way in.”, confirmed
the Rigger, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’d send Bumblebee, but you
fragged him.”
“It blew my cover, so I blew it.” HVI answered dismissively.
“And you know what you can do if you don’t like it.”
“I’ll orbit Rita, to set a perimeter and switch R&D to IR, in
case she tries another Chaney on us”, Hardwire muttered as he set his friends
on their pointless tasks.
“I don’t care if she’s got a million freaking faces, just find
her.”
“Got a Streethawk doin’ the weave towards the barrens.” Hardwire
observed, almost feeling sorry for the pair of innocents he was setting
up. “I can straight-cut ahead of them on the I, but we’ll be blind while
I do.”
“Go for it. Drop me on their primary route, then scope out
their back door and park on it.” the blonde man instructed.
The van started moving, and
soon there were three loud “click” sounds as the drones grounded on the
roof. They could fly, but lacked both the range and speed to keep up with
where they were going.
Trigger stood and stretched, trying to ease the pain in his
bruised abdomen. Halo’s offer was tempting, but…
“Happy to oblige ma’am”, he said in his best imitation of a cowboy
drawl. “Some other time though.” He was also aware that that was
exactly how she’d taken the chip in the first place.
So he popped the sleeve gun and checked the clip. As policy
he always liked to keep a full load in his gun, so he swapped in a fresh one
and pocketed the partial. He’d load it up later.
“Why don’t you try to sleep.” he advised. “I’ll watch the
door.”
Yeah, she thought. Sure she could sleep in a room with an armed
stranger, when there was a crazy witch and creator knew who else hunting
her. Oh, and don’t forget the Yakuza. Yeah, she’d sleep like a baby
in here.
But she hadn’t finished her Slim-Stim, and hadn’t eaten anything
either, and the night was catching up with her. Just laying on her back
without anyone else on her front sounded like a good idea. And she wasn’t
dozing off; she was just shutting out the harsh light of the single lumno’ in
the ceiling. She’d just rest here for a minute…
She snapped upright on the bed at the sharp sound. “Time’s
up, missy. No pay no play!” came the voice.
Hardwire
dropped HVI near the barrens. As the big
man took off running, the rigger pulled his van back around the block waiting
to see if HVI disconnected his com again.
There were
three 4sures in this world, Hardwire thought to himself, as the com went
dead. Death, taxes and HVI’s need to
grandstand. He debated with himself whether to hang and try to limit the damage
to the innocents or buzz back to Trigger for the pickup.
Conscience won
and with a thought his drones rose into the air like a group of gargantuan
insects and followed to the scene of the accident waiting to happen. A quick phone call and then he settled in to
watch the fireworks.
HVI skidded to
a halt at the intersection the puddle of piss rigger had pointed out as the
next place the bike and its dead meat would be hitting. Sure enough, the whine of an approaching
bike made it the truth and he pulled both guns and took aim.
As it rounded
the corner he fired and watched as the bike went skidding into the wall of the
building across the street. The two
riders were struggling feebly to get up as HVI moved across and grabbed the
first ones helmet.
“What the...”
he snarled as what was revealed was some corp kiddie looking dazed and
frightened. Not Trigger, and not the
piece of meat either. “Hardwire!” He bellowed, “I’m coming for you.” Then he froze…
“Put your
weapons on the ground and hands on your head.”
Stated the amplified voice of the Lonestar officer behind him. Turning slowly he saw that there were more
than one, all drawn down on him.
Swearing in a steady stream, he did as the man said.
Hardwire smiled from his vantage.
A little cool-off time for HVI in the fridge wouldn’t be a bad
thing. Time to play faithful steed. He called the drones back and headed out for
the delayed evac hoping everything was still frosty.
Halo’s heart
beat rapidly for a moment as she struggled to get her bearings. She’d zz’d out in a room with a stranger, she
seriously must be slipping. The boy
(although he looked about the same age as her) wasn’t there and in a panic she
checked for her credstick. Still there
with it’s full balance... Either he was stupid, or perhaps knights in shining
armor did exist after all.
She
sighed. She was no fairy princess though
and with a little disappointment she gathered her things to leave. As she put the credstick back in her bag she
noticed a slip of paper. Pulling it out
she smiled a little. It read “Call me,
my name is Trigger” and gave a number.
With the smile still in place and the paper tucked back in her bag, she
crept out of the room.
__
Trigger watched
the girl ‘Halo’ fall asleep. Well,
asleep at least, she did rather look like an angel, even though the truth was
different. Poor kid, he thought. Wonder how long you’ve been out here?
Once he was
certain she was fully out he rang Hardwire again but it was just dead air this
time and that made him concerned.
Looking at the
little Jill, he made a decision. She’d
be safe here, especially if he was out there with the chip. Time to call it all in and see if Singer
still felt friendly. Once she’d been dealt with, off to Johnson and full
payment.
He stood to
‘vac, but with a second thought paused to write something on a piece of paper
that had been wadded up under the bed.
After tucking it into her purse, he slipped from the room.
Trigger kept an eye out for HVI and an ear open for Singer and the
drones.
And with that he damned near walked in front of a PubTran
omni. He stepped back onto the curb and thought it out. The best
way to deal with HVI and Singer was to give them nothing. Nothing to do,
nothing to chase, nothing to deal with.
He moved. A brisk walk got you places. Even a slow run
got you noticed. And the best place to be when somebody’s chasing you is
behind them. So he decided to go back to the KC, figuring that Singer
would have left by now, hot on his very cold trail.
He’d chill there, have a beer, and wait for Hardwire to answer
back on the com’.
The bouncer on duty was Lud’. Apparently Chop was done for
the night, which was just fine with Trigger. He really didn’t want to
mess with that Troll again. His sore ribs would make his left-hand draw
slow for at least another day. Not that he ever drew with his left, but
you never knew what would keep you alive.
He headed for the bar and ordered, then scanned for an open
booth.
“Lemme see some ID, kid,” the bartender said in an almost
ritualistic fashion. “You’re too young to drink.”
“Right here.” replied the Elf, revealing the cred stick behind his
extended middle finger. He paid for the beer and headed for a spot near
the corner.
“Hey Hardwire, ya there?” he asked as he settled in. Silence
answered him, so he sipped at the drink and watched the crowd with his third
eye. It was funny. There’d been a double shooting in here less than
an hour ago, and nobody cared. They just mopped up the blood, turned up
the music, and went on with life. The stomp was covered in bodies swaying
to a sort-of tune, harsh and angry with a rhythm like a heartbeat.
Sounded Orcish. Black-sound dampeners were supposed to keep the music on
the dance area, but they never worked perfectly.
“Hey sugar, want some sugar?” asked a girl who strolled up.
She was almost cadaverously thin, with the haunted look of a hardcore Sim
addict. Virtual food didn’t have many calories.
“Nice combo, Singer.” he replied. “But you need to work on
the voice.” he said, bringing the gun up from beneath the table.
“Damn!” swore the girl, ignoring the gun. “The voice
eh?”
“Yeah. That, and the fact that your Ki still looks like
you.” he said, referring to her astral form. “But Invisibility to hide
the real you, and Entertainment to make the skinny girl, that must be
tough.”
“It is, but it’s worth it.” she replied, accepting the
compliment. “But you know what I want. Hammelin will pay grand prix
for that chip. And 5 Gs beats 7 Cs every time.”
“Sell to the Hammelin bunch and we have Lions after us.” he
countered “They don’t forget.”
She glanced at the gun, figuring her chances. Then she
straightened up with a dejected look and began to turn away.
“Don’t!” warned Trigger, but it was too late. He felt the
air around him thin, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He’d seen the Air
Elemental with her when she walked up, waiting on the astral plane.
It was big, and his bullets weren’t magic. He couldn’t stop the
thing and he knew it.
He fired anyway, double-tap into the retreating street mage.
She staggered, her body armor taking the brunt of it.
He fired again as spots began to form in his vision from lack of
oxygen. This time he aimed higher, going for the harder target: Her
head.
Then suddenly he could breathe. The people around the street
mage were forced back as the Elemental moved in.
Trigger preferred gel loads, non-lethal for the most part.
But for a Mage with an Elemental they could be incredibly deadly, because as
soon as she lost control over the thing it turned on her. All it took was
a moment of unconsciousness in battle and the thing could rebel. Now it
took vengeance on the mortal that had enslaved it. It manifested fully
this time, picking her up and spinning like a tornado.
The wind began to howl in the small space, and Trigger had to brace
his feet against the opposite seat to keep from being dragged out of the booth
and flung around the room. Others weren’t so lucky. If the windows
had been actual glass they would have shattered. As it was the polyplex
sheet was flexing madly, bowing inwards then slamming out with a sound like
thunder. This repeated several times until Lud got thrown threw it.
Then it was over. The thing fled to the open air, leaving
Singer behind. Well, most of her anyway. It had over inflated her
lungs and burst them like a kid’s balloons. The bar began to empty, fast,
which was fine with Trigger.
“Hey Trigger”, came the call on the local com’. “I’m a block
off, be there in a tenth.” And Hardwire’s van pulled up a few
seconds later, as promised.
“How did you know where I
was?” Trigger asked, then looked at the wreckage and debris. “Okay, never
mind. It was a stupid question. Let’s go get paid.”
2 hours later Trigger pulled his bike up to the hole he’d dug
before the run. Not great, but better
than standing in the rain and now he had the alphabet to upgrade tomorrow. The handoff to Mr. Johnson had gone smoothly,
at least, most of the way. The disk had
checked out as stellar.
There had been some tension when he’d asked if Trigger had put the
girl down. It was obvious that he hadn’t
really been happy that she was still breathing, but that hadn’t been the
gig.
The absence
of HVI had caused some Q as well. The
news he was chilling in the fridge did little to make Johnson smiley but they
had completed the run so he’d had to cough.
He’d just
gotten his boots off in his chilly room and was deciding whether he wanted
sleep or a shower first when his phone buzzed.
“Trig” he
answered with a yawn. There was a slight
pause on the other end, and then a hesitant female voice. “Hi, this is Halo. I hope I’m not calling too late.”
He raised his
eyebrows. She probably hadn’t managed to find a room yet tonight.
Well, she’d
made him an offer…perhaps it was time to cash in and find them both a little
comfort, at least for the time being.
He’d need a promise from her not to spell him, and he’d be taking a few
of his own precautions as well. But…
With a slight
smile he answered, “No, not too late at all."
An exchange
of address and a short half-hour (after he’d hidden his valuables) later there
was a knock at his door. Looking through
the peephole he could see her running her fingers through her hair, seeming
just a little nervous.
“Hey there,” he
said in welcome as he opened the door to let her in.
“Hey there,”
she smiled back at him, slipping inside and waiting as he closed the door
behind her.
There was a
moment’s awkward silence…now that he had her there he hardly knew where to
start. It seemed crass and ungentlemanly
to just jump right in. Not the way he’d
been raised at all. But on the other
hand, they both knew why she was there.
“Would you like
some food?” he asked, buying time.
She shook her
head. “No, I ate already.” She almost giggled then, at the humor of the
words. Then cocking an eye at him she
asked, “So, did that Singer bitch give you any more trouble?”
“Not
really.” He gulped a little as she moved
closer to him. Then he smiled and tried
to look smooth and comfortable as she touched his arm.
“Funny, I saw
the KC when I left and it looked like a demo site. You certainly know how to leave your
mark.” She moved right up to him and
smiled into his eyes as she took one of his hands and lifted it to kiss his palm. He was nervous, that was sweet. She’d need to be careful or she could fall
for this one. There was something about
him.
“You didn’t rob
me while I was zz’d. I wouldn’t have
been so noble. Why didn’t you?”
She placed the
palm she’d just kissed on her shoulder, conveniently near the one strap that
held up her top. He took a deep breath
at the feel of her skin, warm and smooth.
“I didn’t need
it more than you did.” He answered, his attention having trouble staying on the
words as she lifted his other hand, his callused right hand to her lips.
“I need a
promise from you that you won’t spell me, ever.” He managed to get out as she guided his
shooting hand to her breast. It felt
warm, even through the silk of her clothes, rounded and firm under his fingers.
“Alright, I
promise.” She whispered, raising her lips to his and kissing him gently. It stayed gentle for about a second before
their youthful hunger took over and the kiss deepened and hardened…
Much later as
he began to doze, her warm body curled against his, hair tickling his chin, he
smiled to himself. This felt nice. Perhaps a mage and a shooter could make a
good team for a bit if she was willing.
So, it wasn’t love, but here in the Shadows, this would do.