Although he was quite anxious to share his data, having some pride in bringing home the bacon on Artie, Mouse found himself the victim of his own efficiency. Itami was having a sporadic and off-color conversation with one of his partially assembled remotes, Owen was still out chasing down info, as was Doc, Hamon was out with Tanchacti and Lug's greeting was so pre-occupied as to be non-existent. He'd completed his investigation faster than the rest of the lost boys and now would have to cultivate patience. The decker's first thought was to watch Itami work, but a particularly loud and obscene monologue from the rigger on the idiocy of drone designers decided him on another course. He wandered over to the weapons locker where Lug was staring at a wall.
"Uhm....Lug? I know that you and Hamon are really tight and that I'm still the greenest guy on the team, but uh...do you need somebody ta talk to? "
"Huh?" Lug said as he was startled out of his reverie, "Oh....uh, thanks kid. I don't think its nothin ya could help me wit...."
"Oh." Mouse replied.
Seeing that the youngster was sensitive enough not to press, the dwarf came to a decision and said "Aw, what the hell. At least yer smart enough ta keep it quiet....or if ya don't I can snap yer pencil neck without break-in a sweat." He concluded significantly. "I.....uh.....I sort a got.....woman trouble."
Seeing that there was no trace of humor in the ork's look of attention, Lug shrugged and said, "Doc, Hamon and Sensei are all, uh, ya know, handsome enough dat dey get attention from women allatime. Itami's got his lady and he's uh, been around, if ya know what I mean. You, you're still uh, too caught up in learnin da biz and dancin da matrix ta get too mixed up wit women, but me I, uh, I just never figured I'd ...ya know...."
The decker's open and unjudgemental look prompted the dwarf to continue. "Well, now, see, I..uh....aw hell, I don't know what's going on. Christie, a chummer a mine, is a tap puller and, ya know, I stop in ta talk to her every now and again. She's pretty and uhm, a norm and she was kinda interested in my partner. I tried ta let her know dat he seems ta be off da market, but instead a just blurtin it out, I made some small talk about her lookin pretty an all. Well, she's way too sharp for me ta slip this past and she gets real confrontational about my deliberately tryin ta spare her feelings. I didn't know what ta say so....I..admitted that I was doin it and BLAM she grabs my ears and pulls me into a kiss."
Seeing that Mouse was still completely focused on the story and had not laughed at the tough street sam being swept up by a larger woman, Lug continued "The thing was, it wasn't just like a peck or nothin, ya know. I mean it was a kiss. Like a romantic kiss.....Kid, I been around a while and I didn't always look like dis. When I was younger I had less scars an metal dan I got now, an I was never a big Romeo, but I did ok back den. But, I gotta tell ya, I never been kissed like dat before."
"Well, it doesn't sound so bad, Lug....." Mouse began.
"No, no. Yer not gettin it. I'm sayin I got absolutely no idea about what it means or what she wants or....I mean was she just sayin 'thanks' and I'm way over interpreting? Was she showin me dat she's interested in me? Is it just like, you know, 'hey, thank you, let's have a roll in the hay' or is she serious like..uh...romance. I dunno. I dunno what I should do next and well....I like her a lot but I could screw up a good friendship by overinterperting. I could also lose.......lose a chance at..uh...love by not catching a signal dis deliberate. DREK!" The dwarf shouted in frustration. "It's like I want it ta be serious so much cuz' she's a dynamite lady but everytime I look in da mirror I think who the hell am I kidding."
"Lug, I don't know da first thing about women, but I know you. Da streeters, da kids, other runners and da guys on da team all like you. Wait. I'm not just blowin smoke here. People really appreciate yer good qualities in spite of yer gruff exterior. Yer a good man and I'm proud yer a friend. Don't run yourself down because of how ya look. I did that a lot after I...uh...changed. I was really bitter and just really mean. Ya know I used ta call da boss names cause he was so good lookin."
"Is dat what he meant when he asked if ya were gonna keep callin him Peter Perfect?"
Blushing, Mouse nodded. "I called him Lance Dashing and made fun of his cloak and his smile and his face. I was a real shit. I kept focusin on outer stuff 'cause I was so angry at the world for changin me from a norm to an ork. Da boss was just da most visible target so I jumped on him every chance I got." The decker paused as he tried to get his argument in order. "But, see, he just let it all slide by cause he saw there was more to me. When you guys helped keep me alive and then let me join the team, it was like you saw somethin in me that was better than what I saw. Owen, and well, all of you guys have such high expectations of me, like you believe in me before I even do anything that its helpin me grow up. I started being better or at least tryin ta be better because you believe in me. My age or lack of experience, that I'm an ork, none of that is held against me so I stop usin those excuses, ya see? You all believe in me without carin about dat other stuff. I believe in you too. I know dat yer a patient teacher, the streeters know ya want ta keep them safe, the kids know that you want somethin better for them. Yer yellin at me or pretendin to ignore da streeters or grumblin at the kids don't change what's inside. What you look like don't mean a thing. Maybe Christie sees what's inside. Could you.....could you just tell Christie how you feel? You know, that you like her and that you want to be her friend or even more than a friend but that you don't have enough experience to interpret what the kiss meant?"
"Kinda leaven myself open fer a fall, aint I?" Lug asked after a few moments of consideration.
"Two questions: Is she worth it?" Mouse asked.
"Yeah, she's definitely worth it. What's the second question?"
"If she's a friend of yours, wouldn't she be sensitive to your feelings? I mean, wouldn't she find a gentle way to tell you if you were overinterperting? " The decker asked reasonably.
"Yeah. I can't see Christie, like, laughin in my face or nothin. She's probably be pretty gentle."
"Well, I'm not any kind of an expert, Lug, but it sounds like nothing ventured, nothing gained. I've seen you bluff a whole elf sec squad wit nothin but a red light, so ya'll never convince me dat yer scared, and ya know, you could go to one of the experts in this area....."
"Naw, kid and thanks but I think I'll go with your advice." The dwarf said as he turned away, then quickly spinning back he said with a predatory grin "So I'll know exactly who ta kill if it don't work out."
Having regaled Madame Magdelena with his tale of the recovery of Sara's child, Owen was now being very closely questioned by the old woman over the disposition of the Bajang Jitte and the research books the mad mage S'ssral had used for his ceremony.
"The Atlantean foundation was concerned too, Madame." Owen said. "We sold the Bajang Jitte but I destroyed the research books." The phys ad stopped at the old woman's arched eyebrow. Swallowing, he continued, "There was quite a heated debate about destroying knowledge and advocating ignorance. Authoritarianism vs. Self-destruction, responsibility vs. free thought, the end of knowledge vs. the end of life. I'm not entirely comfortable with the decision, but I refused to allow it to be passed on to some vague 'higher power'. Essentially the books were a key to destroying the world and it seems to me that those kind of keys are always preserved by those with the best intention and used by those with the worst. I took responsibility for the items because they were in my possession and I couldn't see anyone more competent to make a judgment. I lost 2 million nuyen on the deal."
The old woman took several moments to reflect on what her guest had said. Finally she said "Well, my dear, I can never bring myself to destroy knowledge and most often actively oppose those who would presume to judge what is safe and what is not. I find it hard to see myself throwing any books on the fire. Now, now, don't look so downcast, young man, let me finish. I also have not had to face an elder god from another dimension attempting to destroy all life on the planet, so I will acknowledge that I lack your perspective for judgment. The most significant part of this to me is that lacking a better qualified or more competent judge, you took personal responsibility and made a sacrifice. Whether I agree with your decision or not, I am far happier to see you make what might be a wrong decision for the right reasons than to have you abdicate your responsibility because you thought the issue was too weighty. Unhappily, I believe that is what most people do when confronted with difficult choices. I'm proud of you, young man."
"Madame, I cannot think of anyone I would rather hear those words from." The sincerity of the phys ad's words moved the old woman, but a moment later she wagged a finger at him.
"You are shameless, you rascal. Do you think I've forgotten that you want something? That I will be so flustered by your flattery that I will forget that you have an ulterior motive? Oh, if I were.....well if I were quite a bit younger the things I would do with you..... Oh, don't blush so, young man. I'm old enough to be your great grandmother. Your virtue is safe enough with me. But it is such a deliciously naughty thought!" she added as she and her guest shared a laugh.
Composing herself Madame Magdelena then said, "All right. You have paid the price, entertaining an old woman with your tales of daring do, offering outrageous flattery and even flirting with an ancient so that she can again feel like a giddy schoolgirl. Now, what is the problem?"
"I've come across another artifact, Madame. It's a scourge which Doc is off investigating now. I've...well, I've had some friends begin making a duplicate of it because in my last dealing with the Atlantean foundation they tried cutting short the negotiation by the application of force. It really pushed me over the edge on the issue of the research books." Owen confided.
When the old woman nodded her understanding, Owen continued, "I'd hate to fight the people who really should have the item so that they can study and preserve it, but I'm even less happy having someone just take something from me because they have the power to do so."
"I understand your point, young man, but I'm afraid you're being a bit naive. While it's true the Atlantean foundation collects magical artifacts and research, I'm curious why you feel they should have such items."
"Well....uh...aren't they interested collectors bent on preserving the history?" The phys ad asked.
"You mean like the third Reich ransacking Europe for art treasures to collect and preserve throughout the second world war? Or perhaps the way the British and French "collected and preserved" the history of Egypt? Perhaps you mean like the colonial powers in the 19th century dismantling and shipping home religious statues, temples and even entire villages form every under developed country in their empires? While it's true that many of these artifacts were enjoyed by millions who were able to view them in museums, the ends of collecting and preserving hardly sanctifies the means of stealing by superior force of arms."
Seeing that her guest was shocked at the parallels, the old woman sighed and said, "I can see that a few questions are in order. Tell me what you know of the Atlantean Foundation."
"Well, it's a sort of latter day National Geographic society." Owen said after some hesitation, "They have pretty deep pockets and are endlessly collecting rare magical items and info. I'd guess they're based in Tir Tairngire. I....well, now that I start articulating it, I see I really don't know very much about them at all."
"And what you do know is questionable," the old woman added. "The Atlantean Foundation was established in 2012 by Sheila Blatavska in Atlanta, Georgia. The Foundation's goal is "the recovery of the lost wisdom of ancient Atlantis", which has come to mean, as you correctly stated, endlessly collecting rare magical items and info. Your statement about deep pockets was also accurate. Tell me," Madame Magdelena asked, "when you sold the Bajang Jitte, did the Foundations representative have a distinctive tattoo?"
"Well, Mr. Nestor Enchanis had a tattoo, but when considering his strange appearance, it was not that distinctive. On the side of his neck he had a crescent moon with a long sword and a banner above it. The banner had the symbol for infinity in it." Owen answered.
"The sign within the banner is personal, but the tattoo is the mark of the Mystic Crusaders, a supposedly independent group which functions as the security component of the Foundation. They are a quite ruthless and efficient group bent on 'recovering' the items that the Foundation supposedly studies." Seeing the look on the Phys ad's face, she continued, "Oh, yes, 'supposedly' was a deliberate choice of words. No one, and I mean absolutely no one who is not part of that organization knows what is done with the items and tomes that the foundation collects. The Mystic Crusaders bring the items in and they disappear from sight. There are several Universities associated with the Foundation, but they function simply as a conduit. The Foundation sets up grants and chairs and has a pipeline on the discovery of magical rarities. I'd venture to guess that most of these Foundation "associates" couldn't say more of the organization than you articulated."
Noticing the uncomfortable look on her guest's face, Madame Magdelena said, "Oh, you need not look so upset, dear boy. We don't know that there is anything nefarious going on. I just wanted you to understand that the Atlantean foundation, like a corporation or a government or dragon, is guided by it's own lights. We'd like to point to one or another group and say 'these are the goodguys or these are evil' but the world rarely provides such simplistic clarity. In my experience things are more gray than not, including those who would preserve and collect history."
"I understand your point, Madame and , as always, I appreciate your guidance," Owen responded, "but now I'm wondering if I've been paranoid enough. I will have a duplicate of the item soon, which is probably a good idea, but I don't believe I'm the first to ever devise such a strategy, so if I find myself compelled to use it, I'd better have more than a simple look alike if the substitution is going to work. I also have to figure that the Mystic Crusaders and probably several others monitor the standard lines of inquiry about such items, and since I imagine my team's investigation has probably set off several alarms among the artifact collectors, I'd better get back and have my team prepare."
"Well, dear boy, as always I wish you good fortune." The old woman said with a smile as she rose to dismiss her guest. "I hope you find the information you seek without any problems from the various collectors, but I have two stern admonishons for you. First," She said while waving a finger at Owen, "first, find some excuse to come see a poor old woman when your latest adventure is done. I dearly love your stories." And second," she said as a smile broke through, "you take care of yourself. My life would be ever so dull if your pretty face wasn't in it."
With a tender smile the phys ad swept the small old woman into a hug and kissed her forehead as he said softly "I will, Madame M., I will."
"It's unbelievable!" Pietr exclaimed "Look, Doc. There are no fewer than seven spells woven around the core magic of this object. The outermost layers here and here," he said while gesturing at the artifact, "are 30 and 10 years old and the inner layers are completely unfamiliar to me and incredibly old. As amazing as that is, however, the most fantastic aspect is that there is no clue as to what is sustaining those spells. Do you understand the implications of this, old elf? We are talking about an item so powerful that it absorbs and sustains spells cast upon it for decades! I might happily spend the remainder of my life investigating this item. Just think of the ramifications of such a find. We are looking at what may very well be a magical Rosetta stone. A key which unlocks the secrets of earlier forms of magic, possibly even," his voice fell to a reverend hush, "the magic of Atlantis".
"Oh come now, my friend," Doc said admonishingly, "I think it far more likely that 6 hours of intensive uninterrupted spell casting and study has fired your fevered imagination than......"
"Imagination! Imagination?!" the small man squeaked indignantly, "I'll have you know, my good elf, that 6 hours is a mere bagatelle, a trifle to a serious investigator. I've worked three days running without a break when conducting magical examination, and I do not exaggerate when I tell you that this item is incredibly ancient, tremendously powerful and utilizes magic in ways that simply has not been seen in the sixth world. I could do an entire monograph on the little I've uncovered thus far. This is big, old chum. We need to contact MIT&T, or possibly go directly to the Atlantean Foundation....."
"Wait, wait, wait." Doc interrupted, "I'd need the permission of the owner before any er...authorities were notified......"
"Permission? Doc, what are you talking about?" Pietr squeaked with annoyance. "This is a significant magical discovery! We need to bring in the authorities to determine how significant, but we already know there is magic here that has never before been seen and cannot be explained! How can you even think of not reporting this? It would be like...like some shepherd boy in the hills of Crete discovering a shard of a a Linear B tablet and the school teacher that he gives it to refusing to notify competent archeologists and linguists without the child's permission. It's insane! Does one need the approval of a landowner when prehistoric cave paintings are discovered? Some things transcend such petty concepts as ownership!"
"Calm down, my friend, calm down." Doc said. "I wish to know about the item also. It's a fascinating mystery and if it is as ancient and powerful as it seems to be, we certainly will need to have competent authorities look at it to determine precisely what it is. However, in our travels we have both had occasion to deal with those authorities, have we not? We both know that when significant artifacts are uncovered there is an unfortunate tendency by these powers to take possession first and deal with objections later. Isn't that true? You've named a few of the interested parties who might be of aid in examining the item. Wouldn't each of the parties you named be concerned that a rival organization might lay hold of the item and attempt to strike first? 'Protect' an antiquity from the depredations of the scientifically, magically, etc., less competent? I could see this place becoming a sort of ground zero for 'recovery teams' seeking to 'preserve' such an item. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
At the first mention of conflict and his home in the same breath, Pietr began reconsidering. Doc has a point, the small norm thought. I can't have powerful collectors violating the sanctity of my home in pursuit of this wonder, but I certainly don't need some plebeian's permission to notify a fellow member of the lodge. I'll contact brother Maynard. He'll know who we can safely inform about this find.
"Perhaps you're right, Doc. We certainly don't want battles raging over this while it is on my premises. You contact your people about permission to investigate with ...uhm..authorities while I run a few more tests."
As soon as Doc had left the room to use the trid, Pietr pulled a flip unit from a drawer in his worktable. "Brother Maynard? It's Pietr. Forgive me for disturbing you but I've come across an item of interest......"
The Shadorat and shapcano. Together again for the first time! This serial continues at Winterhawk's Virtual Magespace. To read Chapter 8 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.
"Uhm....Lug? I know that you and Hamon are really tight and that I'm still the greenest guy on the team, but uh...do you need somebody ta talk to? "
"Huh?" Lug said as he was startled out of his reverie, "Oh....uh, thanks kid. I don't think its nothin ya could help me wit...."
"Oh." Mouse replied.
Seeing that the youngster was sensitive enough not to press, the dwarf came to a decision and said "Aw, what the hell. At least yer smart enough ta keep it quiet....or if ya don't I can snap yer pencil neck without break-in a sweat." He concluded significantly. "I.....uh.....I sort a got.....woman trouble."
Seeing that there was no trace of humor in the ork's look of attention, Lug shrugged and said, "Doc, Hamon and Sensei are all, uh, ya know, handsome enough dat dey get attention from women allatime. Itami's got his lady and he's uh, been around, if ya know what I mean. You, you're still uh, too caught up in learnin da biz and dancin da matrix ta get too mixed up wit women, but me I, uh, I just never figured I'd ...ya know...."
The decker's open and unjudgemental look prompted the dwarf to continue. "Well, now, see, I..uh....aw hell, I don't know what's going on. Christie, a chummer a mine, is a tap puller and, ya know, I stop in ta talk to her every now and again. She's pretty and uhm, a norm and she was kinda interested in my partner. I tried ta let her know dat he seems ta be off da market, but instead a just blurtin it out, I made some small talk about her lookin pretty an all. Well, she's way too sharp for me ta slip this past and she gets real confrontational about my deliberately tryin ta spare her feelings. I didn't know what ta say so....I..admitted that I was doin it and BLAM she grabs my ears and pulls me into a kiss."
Seeing that Mouse was still completely focused on the story and had not laughed at the tough street sam being swept up by a larger woman, Lug continued "The thing was, it wasn't just like a peck or nothin, ya know. I mean it was a kiss. Like a romantic kiss.....Kid, I been around a while and I didn't always look like dis. When I was younger I had less scars an metal dan I got now, an I was never a big Romeo, but I did ok back den. But, I gotta tell ya, I never been kissed like dat before."
"Well, it doesn't sound so bad, Lug....." Mouse began.
"No, no. Yer not gettin it. I'm sayin I got absolutely no idea about what it means or what she wants or....I mean was she just sayin 'thanks' and I'm way over interpreting? Was she showin me dat she's interested in me? Is it just like, you know, 'hey, thank you, let's have a roll in the hay' or is she serious like..uh...romance. I dunno. I dunno what I should do next and well....I like her a lot but I could screw up a good friendship by overinterperting. I could also lose.......lose a chance at..uh...love by not catching a signal dis deliberate. DREK!" The dwarf shouted in frustration. "It's like I want it ta be serious so much cuz' she's a dynamite lady but everytime I look in da mirror I think who the hell am I kidding."
"Lug, I don't know da first thing about women, but I know you. Da streeters, da kids, other runners and da guys on da team all like you. Wait. I'm not just blowin smoke here. People really appreciate yer good qualities in spite of yer gruff exterior. Yer a good man and I'm proud yer a friend. Don't run yourself down because of how ya look. I did that a lot after I...uh...changed. I was really bitter and just really mean. Ya know I used ta call da boss names cause he was so good lookin."
"Is dat what he meant when he asked if ya were gonna keep callin him Peter Perfect?"
Blushing, Mouse nodded. "I called him Lance Dashing and made fun of his cloak and his smile and his face. I was a real shit. I kept focusin on outer stuff 'cause I was so angry at the world for changin me from a norm to an ork. Da boss was just da most visible target so I jumped on him every chance I got." The decker paused as he tried to get his argument in order. "But, see, he just let it all slide by cause he saw there was more to me. When you guys helped keep me alive and then let me join the team, it was like you saw somethin in me that was better than what I saw. Owen, and well, all of you guys have such high expectations of me, like you believe in me before I even do anything that its helpin me grow up. I started being better or at least tryin ta be better because you believe in me. My age or lack of experience, that I'm an ork, none of that is held against me so I stop usin those excuses, ya see? You all believe in me without carin about dat other stuff. I believe in you too. I know dat yer a patient teacher, the streeters know ya want ta keep them safe, the kids know that you want somethin better for them. Yer yellin at me or pretendin to ignore da streeters or grumblin at the kids don't change what's inside. What you look like don't mean a thing. Maybe Christie sees what's inside. Could you.....could you just tell Christie how you feel? You know, that you like her and that you want to be her friend or even more than a friend but that you don't have enough experience to interpret what the kiss meant?"
"Kinda leaven myself open fer a fall, aint I?" Lug asked after a few moments of consideration.
"Two questions: Is she worth it?" Mouse asked.
"Yeah, she's definitely worth it. What's the second question?"
"If she's a friend of yours, wouldn't she be sensitive to your feelings? I mean, wouldn't she find a gentle way to tell you if you were overinterperting? " The decker asked reasonably.
"Yeah. I can't see Christie, like, laughin in my face or nothin. She's probably be pretty gentle."
"Well, I'm not any kind of an expert, Lug, but it sounds like nothing ventured, nothing gained. I've seen you bluff a whole elf sec squad wit nothin but a red light, so ya'll never convince me dat yer scared, and ya know, you could go to one of the experts in this area....."
"Naw, kid and thanks but I think I'll go with your advice." The dwarf said as he turned away, then quickly spinning back he said with a predatory grin "So I'll know exactly who ta kill if it don't work out."
Having regaled Madame Magdelena with his tale of the recovery of Sara's child, Owen was now being very closely questioned by the old woman over the disposition of the Bajang Jitte and the research books the mad mage S'ssral had used for his ceremony.
"The Atlantean foundation was concerned too, Madame." Owen said. "We sold the Bajang Jitte but I destroyed the research books." The phys ad stopped at the old woman's arched eyebrow. Swallowing, he continued, "There was quite a heated debate about destroying knowledge and advocating ignorance. Authoritarianism vs. Self-destruction, responsibility vs. free thought, the end of knowledge vs. the end of life. I'm not entirely comfortable with the decision, but I refused to allow it to be passed on to some vague 'higher power'. Essentially the books were a key to destroying the world and it seems to me that those kind of keys are always preserved by those with the best intention and used by those with the worst. I took responsibility for the items because they were in my possession and I couldn't see anyone more competent to make a judgment. I lost 2 million nuyen on the deal."
The old woman took several moments to reflect on what her guest had said. Finally she said "Well, my dear, I can never bring myself to destroy knowledge and most often actively oppose those who would presume to judge what is safe and what is not. I find it hard to see myself throwing any books on the fire. Now, now, don't look so downcast, young man, let me finish. I also have not had to face an elder god from another dimension attempting to destroy all life on the planet, so I will acknowledge that I lack your perspective for judgment. The most significant part of this to me is that lacking a better qualified or more competent judge, you took personal responsibility and made a sacrifice. Whether I agree with your decision or not, I am far happier to see you make what might be a wrong decision for the right reasons than to have you abdicate your responsibility because you thought the issue was too weighty. Unhappily, I believe that is what most people do when confronted with difficult choices. I'm proud of you, young man."
"Madame, I cannot think of anyone I would rather hear those words from." The sincerity of the phys ad's words moved the old woman, but a moment later she wagged a finger at him.
"You are shameless, you rascal. Do you think I've forgotten that you want something? That I will be so flustered by your flattery that I will forget that you have an ulterior motive? Oh, if I were.....well if I were quite a bit younger the things I would do with you..... Oh, don't blush so, young man. I'm old enough to be your great grandmother. Your virtue is safe enough with me. But it is such a deliciously naughty thought!" she added as she and her guest shared a laugh.
Composing herself Madame Magdelena then said, "All right. You have paid the price, entertaining an old woman with your tales of daring do, offering outrageous flattery and even flirting with an ancient so that she can again feel like a giddy schoolgirl. Now, what is the problem?"
"I've come across another artifact, Madame. It's a scourge which Doc is off investigating now. I've...well, I've had some friends begin making a duplicate of it because in my last dealing with the Atlantean foundation they tried cutting short the negotiation by the application of force. It really pushed me over the edge on the issue of the research books." Owen confided.
When the old woman nodded her understanding, Owen continued, "I'd hate to fight the people who really should have the item so that they can study and preserve it, but I'm even less happy having someone just take something from me because they have the power to do so."
"I understand your point, young man, but I'm afraid you're being a bit naive. While it's true the Atlantean foundation collects magical artifacts and research, I'm curious why you feel they should have such items."
"Well....uh...aren't they interested collectors bent on preserving the history?" The phys ad asked.
"You mean like the third Reich ransacking Europe for art treasures to collect and preserve throughout the second world war? Or perhaps the way the British and French "collected and preserved" the history of Egypt? Perhaps you mean like the colonial powers in the 19th century dismantling and shipping home religious statues, temples and even entire villages form every under developed country in their empires? While it's true that many of these artifacts were enjoyed by millions who were able to view them in museums, the ends of collecting and preserving hardly sanctifies the means of stealing by superior force of arms."
Seeing that her guest was shocked at the parallels, the old woman sighed and said, "I can see that a few questions are in order. Tell me what you know of the Atlantean Foundation."
"Well, it's a sort of latter day National Geographic society." Owen said after some hesitation, "They have pretty deep pockets and are endlessly collecting rare magical items and info. I'd guess they're based in Tir Tairngire. I....well, now that I start articulating it, I see I really don't know very much about them at all."
"And what you do know is questionable," the old woman added. "The Atlantean Foundation was established in 2012 by Sheila Blatavska in Atlanta, Georgia. The Foundation's goal is "the recovery of the lost wisdom of ancient Atlantis", which has come to mean, as you correctly stated, endlessly collecting rare magical items and info. Your statement about deep pockets was also accurate. Tell me," Madame Magdelena asked, "when you sold the Bajang Jitte, did the Foundations representative have a distinctive tattoo?"
"Well, Mr. Nestor Enchanis had a tattoo, but when considering his strange appearance, it was not that distinctive. On the side of his neck he had a crescent moon with a long sword and a banner above it. The banner had the symbol for infinity in it." Owen answered.
"The sign within the banner is personal, but the tattoo is the mark of the Mystic Crusaders, a supposedly independent group which functions as the security component of the Foundation. They are a quite ruthless and efficient group bent on 'recovering' the items that the Foundation supposedly studies." Seeing the look on the Phys ad's face, she continued, "Oh, yes, 'supposedly' was a deliberate choice of words. No one, and I mean absolutely no one who is not part of that organization knows what is done with the items and tomes that the foundation collects. The Mystic Crusaders bring the items in and they disappear from sight. There are several Universities associated with the Foundation, but they function simply as a conduit. The Foundation sets up grants and chairs and has a pipeline on the discovery of magical rarities. I'd venture to guess that most of these Foundation "associates" couldn't say more of the organization than you articulated."
Noticing the uncomfortable look on her guest's face, Madame Magdelena said, "Oh, you need not look so upset, dear boy. We don't know that there is anything nefarious going on. I just wanted you to understand that the Atlantean foundation, like a corporation or a government or dragon, is guided by it's own lights. We'd like to point to one or another group and say 'these are the goodguys or these are evil' but the world rarely provides such simplistic clarity. In my experience things are more gray than not, including those who would preserve and collect history."
"I understand your point, Madame and , as always, I appreciate your guidance," Owen responded, "but now I'm wondering if I've been paranoid enough. I will have a duplicate of the item soon, which is probably a good idea, but I don't believe I'm the first to ever devise such a strategy, so if I find myself compelled to use it, I'd better have more than a simple look alike if the substitution is going to work. I also have to figure that the Mystic Crusaders and probably several others monitor the standard lines of inquiry about such items, and since I imagine my team's investigation has probably set off several alarms among the artifact collectors, I'd better get back and have my team prepare."
"Well, dear boy, as always I wish you good fortune." The old woman said with a smile as she rose to dismiss her guest. "I hope you find the information you seek without any problems from the various collectors, but I have two stern admonishons for you. First," She said while waving a finger at Owen, "first, find some excuse to come see a poor old woman when your latest adventure is done. I dearly love your stories." And second," she said as a smile broke through, "you take care of yourself. My life would be ever so dull if your pretty face wasn't in it."
With a tender smile the phys ad swept the small old woman into a hug and kissed her forehead as he said softly "I will, Madame M., I will."
"It's unbelievable!" Pietr exclaimed "Look, Doc. There are no fewer than seven spells woven around the core magic of this object. The outermost layers here and here," he said while gesturing at the artifact, "are 30 and 10 years old and the inner layers are completely unfamiliar to me and incredibly old. As amazing as that is, however, the most fantastic aspect is that there is no clue as to what is sustaining those spells. Do you understand the implications of this, old elf? We are talking about an item so powerful that it absorbs and sustains spells cast upon it for decades! I might happily spend the remainder of my life investigating this item. Just think of the ramifications of such a find. We are looking at what may very well be a magical Rosetta stone. A key which unlocks the secrets of earlier forms of magic, possibly even," his voice fell to a reverend hush, "the magic of Atlantis".
"Oh come now, my friend," Doc said admonishingly, "I think it far more likely that 6 hours of intensive uninterrupted spell casting and study has fired your fevered imagination than......"
"Imagination! Imagination?!" the small man squeaked indignantly, "I'll have you know, my good elf, that 6 hours is a mere bagatelle, a trifle to a serious investigator. I've worked three days running without a break when conducting magical examination, and I do not exaggerate when I tell you that this item is incredibly ancient, tremendously powerful and utilizes magic in ways that simply has not been seen in the sixth world. I could do an entire monograph on the little I've uncovered thus far. This is big, old chum. We need to contact MIT&T, or possibly go directly to the Atlantean Foundation....."
"Wait, wait, wait." Doc interrupted, "I'd need the permission of the owner before any er...authorities were notified......"
"Permission? Doc, what are you talking about?" Pietr squeaked with annoyance. "This is a significant magical discovery! We need to bring in the authorities to determine how significant, but we already know there is magic here that has never before been seen and cannot be explained! How can you even think of not reporting this? It would be like...like some shepherd boy in the hills of Crete discovering a shard of a a Linear B tablet and the school teacher that he gives it to refusing to notify competent archeologists and linguists without the child's permission. It's insane! Does one need the approval of a landowner when prehistoric cave paintings are discovered? Some things transcend such petty concepts as ownership!"
"Calm down, my friend, calm down." Doc said. "I wish to know about the item also. It's a fascinating mystery and if it is as ancient and powerful as it seems to be, we certainly will need to have competent authorities look at it to determine precisely what it is. However, in our travels we have both had occasion to deal with those authorities, have we not? We both know that when significant artifacts are uncovered there is an unfortunate tendency by these powers to take possession first and deal with objections later. Isn't that true? You've named a few of the interested parties who might be of aid in examining the item. Wouldn't each of the parties you named be concerned that a rival organization might lay hold of the item and attempt to strike first? 'Protect' an antiquity from the depredations of the scientifically, magically, etc., less competent? I could see this place becoming a sort of ground zero for 'recovery teams' seeking to 'preserve' such an item. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
At the first mention of conflict and his home in the same breath, Pietr began reconsidering. Doc has a point, the small norm thought. I can't have powerful collectors violating the sanctity of my home in pursuit of this wonder, but I certainly don't need some plebeian's permission to notify a fellow member of the lodge. I'll contact brother Maynard. He'll know who we can safely inform about this find.
"Perhaps you're right, Doc. We certainly don't want battles raging over this while it is on my premises. You contact your people about permission to investigate with ...uhm..authorities while I run a few more tests."
As soon as Doc had left the room to use the trid, Pietr pulled a flip unit from a drawer in his worktable. "Brother Maynard? It's Pietr. Forgive me for disturbing you but I've come across an item of interest......"
The Shadorat and shapcano. Together again for the first time! This serial continues at Winterhawk's Virtual Magespace. To read Chapter 8 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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