JOINT VENTURE Chapter 30

Speed Racer tried desperately to calm himself as he carried the pillow case of bloody bandages to the roof. Thrust into a strange city under assumed names, he and his friends were being changed by this latest job. Manny, the team's hard-bitten dwarf armorer, the quintessential self-confident seasoned veteran, since handling the magical artifact was beset with self doubt, second guessing himself at every turn. Twice, Speed had come upon the dwarf talking to himself. Edge, reacting to his long-time partners' sudden personality shift, was more remote, more withdrawn. Wolfman, frustrated and exhausted by his fruitless attempts to heal the team's leader seemed beset by guilt while the Boss, a man whom the orc had come to believe was indestructible, had been reduced to a groaning mass of bruised, torn flesh and broken bones, tossing in a fever dream. Even Rook, the team's youngest member was behaving strangely- after assuming the mantle of tactical command, the youngster had issued terse orders and immediately abandoned discussion to plug into his deck.
And look at the huge contribution I've made, the rigger thought bitterly, our transport's a joke, I've got zero drones, zero contacts, and I've been of zero use other than disposing of medical waste. Dumping the bandages into the empty oil drum on the roof, Speed poured lighter fluid over the used gauze and tossed in a match. I hate this fuckin' town.

*********

Mouse zipped around the matrix at the speed of thought. His preparation for the upcoming virtual meeting was frenzied. He used every bit of his ability as he readied himself for his virtual appointment. When the cartoon alarm clock on his wrist began ringing he stilled it, took a deep breath and popped into Gunchers.

The "doorman" for the virtual bar was a pinball machine. Standing alone in a seemingly vast wall-less room, the machine challenged all for admission. One could either drop a "coin" of encrypted data, returning the packet issued when a virtual conference room was contracted or play a "free game" to enter the lounge by attempting to beat one of three resident deckers. Tommy, the oldest decker, was generally considered unbeatable but selectively challenged unfamiliar icons to more than a quick token game. Tommy's table of choice was "Clowns". Loraedo was acknowledged as the master of "Playboy after Dark" but it was widely whispered that the decker had built in a tilt program to prevent hi-score record replacement. F.Poag was the wildest of the three, playing without a table preference, but demonstrated more concern for the flow of play than for the actual score of the game. This screening process of random challenge based on the doorman on duty made the ability to lounge at Gunchers a mark of prestige among deckers. It also made attempts at entry a form of entertainment for those already inside.

Mouse had ascertained all of these facts during the frenzied two hours that had preceded his arrival. When he found himself facing the Clowns machine, he breathed a small sigh of relief. The cartoon mouse calmly approached the machine, held down the left hand flipper and reached under the machine's table with his right. Before Tommy could react, Mouse flipped a concealed switch and deactivated the game.

"HEY!" a disembodied voice exclaimed as the entrance door appeared next to the machine. "That's not......"

"Sorry", mouse interrupted in his high pitched virtual voice. "I don't have time to play. I supposed to meet someone here."

"Yes......" said the voice as it's source, a round silver orb with an ancient sorcerer's pointed cap sitting crookedly atop it materialized from nowhere..

"Where should I go?"

"Oh, you're going to have to me a little more specific." The orb replied, "We have several meeting rooms reserved."

"Hmmm" Mouse pondered. After some concentrated thought he said, "Uh.....this party I'm conferencing with, I um....I met in hell."

"Ah. That would be room 3." Before Mouse could ask where room 3 might be, the orb said. "I'd very much like to talk with you when you finish your meeting."

With a *pop* Mouse found himself seated across a polished onyx table from a half man/half woman. The hermaphroditic icon held a long cigarette holder, complete with ever burning cigarette, in one evening gloved hand.

"So darling," the throaty voiced drawled, "what happened at the inferno? I thought....."

"Look," the cartoon mouse interrupted, "I don't want to play anymore stupid games. I don't have the time and neither do you. You've seen that the artifact is in play and that some major players are interested. Are you going to set up a meeting with the council or not?"

"Fine," the man/woman replied, "That's how you want it." Stubbing out the virtual cigarette in an ashtray which materialized from the onyx tabletop, the hermaphrodite gave the mouse a hard look and demanded "You explain to me why its to my benefit to help you meet with the council."

"You mean beyond the fact that we've come a long way....."

"Long way, short way, I don't give a fig." Corwin interrupted.

"Its a powerful magical artifact......"

"So you claim. But you're not local, you've got no history and I don't believe you. Convince me I should."

"But the attack......."

"Was impressive, I agree. Doesn't prove a thing other than somebody spent a lot of nuyen."

"You can't ignore......"

"You'd be amazed at what I can ignore."

Mouse's frustration built towards critical mass as he flailed about trying to find a way to convince Corwin that he needed to set up a meeting between the team and the Council of Princes. Panic took hold as the hermaphrodite icon rose from the table in an obvious signal that the meeting was over. Rather than sputter, Mouse concentrated and when the virtual man/woman looked at his/her watch in preparation to departure, the decker hit on the response.

"You can't afford the risk." He said quietly.

Arching an eyebrow, the man/woman waited a beat and then sat back down. Mouse kept his icon motionless as Corwin's computer character sighed and relit his/her virtual cigarette.

"Why not?" He/she challenged.

"Because we might be everything we claim." Mouse took the hermaphrodites' lack of interruption as an indicator that he was on the right track. "We might have been directed by a free spirit to seek out the council. We might have traveled here for that purpose, bringing an ancient magical artifact of tremendous power. We might be fighting to keep it from the hands of pursuers, at an unholy cost, just so that the council can be consulted. If any or all of that's true, you don't want to have to admit to your bosses, after some other power player uses it for who knows what, that when we came to you with it, you blew us off."

"Hmmmm....." Corwin vamped.

"But I'll give you an even more compelling reason if you like." Mouse continued, building up steam.. "This piece of magical drek is busting up my friends. It's got us in a shitstorm without any of our contacts or resources and I'm about two seconds from chucking it and walking away." Seeing that he had surprised the androgynous icon, he continued, "That's right. The guy who brought me into this group, someone who is a very real hero to me, thought it was worth his life to do the responsible thing and get this thing to the council. Well, that's what it may have cost him and us. Me, I ain't that conscientious. You want me to convince you, to give you a reason why you have to act? Ok. If this thing falls into the wrong hands and destroys the northwest, I don't give a fuck. I don't live here. I don't even like this fuckin place. You want me to beg you, cajole you, basically kiss your ass about something you should be desperate to handle? Grab a clue, Sherlock. I'm a fraggin shadowrunner-don't leave the fate of your world in my hands unless you're planning on space travel."

*******

"I tell you G, the mouse was Iceyhot. Jandered in, shutdown Clowns, jandered by. Come out of his confab and 'pologized. Said he'd scanned for a couple of hours about the club and went so deep he found the blues for the original table. Pulled the circuit 'grams and then not only guessed I'd include the cut-off in my prog, but that I'd add the safety. Hoped he hadn't ruined it for me cause he'd like ta come back some day and play me. Old school style but maxchill. This is uh, pretty big, huh?

"Why would you say that, Tommy?"

"Ah, C'mon! Plughead pops my prog and tosses me a so-sorry on his way out and before I can ask 'Who was that masked man', I get a nice sit-down and twenty questions from the legendary Galron. It's gotta be defcon 1 to get you down from Olympus. I won't be shocked to hear the Dodger conductin' a chorus of Otaku next."

"I don't honestly know how big this is, my friend. I just know that wheels are spinning and I've been told to look into it." The fetish covered, greatcoat icon shrugged and sighed before continuing. "Flash me if you hear any more about the mouse, won't you?"

"You got it."

"Later"

*******

"Well, sir.....uhm....you see....uh....."

"Center yourself"

"Yes, sir."

Several minutes passed until the troll's breathing was even and regular.

"Now, tell me what it was about the physad that made you think of my story"

"First of all, it was the cloak. He....flowed....like it wasn't a garment but a part of him. I remember you had mentioned how deceptively smooth the norm in your story was and I suddenly saw what you were describing. Then I was thinking that even if he was the same guy, for all his ability I could still lay a crosshair on him and as I imagined it he immediately turned to look at me. Sort of spooky. When we were outside of the club, Billie threw an invisibility spell on me and I crept around to the far side of a pile of rubble while he was directing his team. As soon as he finished relaying instructions, he told me to stop playing games and......"

"Were those his words?"

"No. He said 'Bad time to play games.' I may have been projecting, but I think he had that focus that you talked about, sir. That ability to absorb everything in the environment and immediately react to threats."

"Interesting, Cag. Very interesting." The steel elf was lost for a moment in reflection and then asked, "So, how do you like protective service?"

"It's not bad, sir. My principal would like it if I were even bigger, but I think he's happy that unlike the rest of the crew, I'm paid by the state."

"Spend a lot of time in Seattle, do you?"

"Well, yes. But, uhm, not the places that you'd tour, if you know what I mean. My principal has....uh....diverse tastes."

"We should have someone with us familiar with the underside of town. If our team leader approves, would you be interested in a detached duty assignment with us?"

"Absolutely!" Cag responded with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"I'll see what I can do." Barnaby responded.

********

".......saying that it must be somebody else. Owen would at least call and tell me if he was going to be this close. And just because his team's decker used a mouse icon when he met with creepy Corry......"

"Sayla, no less a personage than the lady herself has asked that we not use that nickname," Galron interrupted, "and you really don't understand how much is invested in matrix icons. Using another's icon is the worse sort of deceit and the scammer would find himself attacked from all sides should the deception be uncovered. Even if he's calling himself Rook and Owen's using the name Cloak, there's too many similarities for it to be coincidence." Turning to the Troll newcomer, the elven decker asked, "Did you see any other members of the team?"

"Yes, sir" Cag replied, barely restraining the urge to stand to attention. "There was an Elf called Wolfman. Male, 6'4", might have been a magic user, white hair done in a Mohawk. Talked a lot."

"Sounds like Doc," Sayla admitted. "What about the others? There would have been an ork rigger, a dwarf sam and another norm. A Gillette with paired katanas."

"Sorry, ma'am. I didn't stick around. As soon as we got our principal out of the club, we left the area."

"But why wouldn't he let me know?" The beautiful elf mage muttered to herself.

"Maybe he didn't have time." Barnaby suggested lamely.

"Or maybe he didn't want to put you in an awkward position." Galron said with some gravity. "Maybe he was trying to spare you from being forced to choose between your career and your personal life."

Still chewing her bottom lip, the elf woman looked quizzically at her team leader.

"If you knew he was in Seattle, at the very least, you'd have been tempted to come see him in spite of your duty schedule. Wait" the elf decker said while holding up a palm to forestall objections, "I know you weren't on assignment, he didn't. And what would have happened if he called and you rushed to his side. What if he had asked for your help and after setting him up with the council, the decision was made that the artifact and all who had handled it were to be sanctioned." Reacting to the thunderstruck look, Galron nodded and continued. "What if wiser heads than ours determined that the safety of the Tir required the elimination of all who had handled the artifact? What would, and more to the point, what will you do if the choice is between duty and love. You know Owen well enough to agree that imagining such problems are within his capabilities and that to avoid them he would take a path that was more difficult for him but protected you."

Sayla's face softened into a fond expression as she thought how typically over-protective Owen would be if he imagined his contact with her might cause her problems. Galron saw this and snapped his fingers to refocus her attention. "Now you need to make some tough decisions. It could very well happen that you'll be asked to choose between Owen and the Tir. You'd better think about it because fence sitting on this one could get everybody dead. If it comes down to it, is your duty to your teammates and your country, or to your boyfriend? Figure it out and let me know who's side your on. Just don't take too long."

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The Shadorat and shapcano. Together again for the first time! This serial continues at Winterhawk's Virtual Magespace. To read more click here. 

This story is copyright of the author. Shadowrun is a Registered Trademark of FASA Corporation. All Rights Reserved. Used without permission. Any use of FASA Corporation's copyrighted material or trademarks in this file should not be viewed as a challenge to those copyrights or trademarks.

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