Casper wasn't a particularly run down place. Sure, there were some closed storefronts, some small shops that had "Final Days! Everything Must Go! Going Out of Business Sale!" signs behind chained doors, but it wasn't the boarded-over, bombed-out, desolation that we had seen in Seattle. By and large the streets of Casper were tired rather than blighted.
Until we got to Columbia and Mason.
Now, don't get ahead of me and start building a picture of post-apocalyptic urban decay, because the corner of Columbia and Mason were exactly the opposite. As we approached the intersection, the streets got cleaner and cleaner. Windows shone, flowers bloomed in brightly painted windowboxes, it was like stepping into some city planner's fantasy of the perfect urban environment. Very, very weird.
Columbia and Mason turned out to be the site of a modest office building. Well, to be accurate, I guess I should say it was the site of an office building, a park, a construction site and the cleanest church parking lot I ever saw. (Four corners, ya know?) We pulled up to the working address and as I was about to get out of the Bear a well built orc appeared out of nowhere and leaned on the outside of the door. He tapped on the glass for me to roll down the window and when I turned to ask the boss how he wanted to play this I saw a similarly dressed norm had taken an identical position outside of his door.
We exchanged shrugs and I rolled down the windows.
"You gents lost?" my "server"asked with a mock helpful tone.
When the boss didn't speak up I said "No."
"You think you got business here?" The norm asked in a voice so raspy that some of the words seemed whispered.
"Kilkenny" the boss said in his quiet voice. I immediately figured trouble was coming.
"You think that name cuts ice, do ya, jack?" raspy asked.
"My name's not jack" the boss said.
The next thing I knew the boss had thrown the door open with enough force to put raspy on his ass out in the middle of the street. Quick as spit my server reached into his jacket, and since I didn't want to see what he's going to pull out, I grabbed his elbow and jerked him back towards me repeatedly. This had the effect of smashing his face into the SUV's doorframe until he was left with a mouthful of bloody chiclets.
Tommy was cowering behind his stuffed toy as the boss went after raspy. The norm, still sprawled on his ass, pulled his piece just in time for the boss to punt it into his nose. This caused raspy's nose, now spread over a large portion of his face, to spew blood like a firehose. Satisfied that his assailant was out of action, the boss zipped around the back of the car and chopped my now mumbling friend into oblivion.
Columbia & Mason was a 4-way intersection and at virtually the same time we were smacking around the welcoming party the streets were closing off a block away in every direction. In front, I could see a garbage truck was making a pick up, behind us a tractor trailer was making a nerps delivery, to my left a fender bender blocked both lanes of Mason and to my right I could see a roadmaster getting or giving a jumpstart to some kind of panel truck.Now, I like coincidence as much as the next guy, but even I smelled a rat.
"Trapped" I said, hoping the boss would do his strategic thinking thing and give me a course of action.
"Yep."
"Might as well go in then, huh?"
"Yep."
"Should I bring the kid?"
"Yep"
I took Tommy's hand and we followed the boss into the building.
The first floor of the building was entirely empty. No furniture, no plants, no people, no doors, no walls. The floor to ceiling windows were covered with reflective mylar and looked like mirrors. Directly opposite of where we came in, and seemingly 100 yards away, there was a stairwell which was also covered with mirrors. I had to look at the floor in front of me to avoid the vertigo/nausea/disorientation of seeing millions of myself marching along through an endless expanse of nothing.
Tommy, whose head was suddenly on a swivel, giggled with delight and then looked up at me to see if I was enjoying the funhouse as much as he was. I noticed this because I was looking down and gave him a wink and my best toothless grin..
We kept walking until the boss stopped moving and I looked up to see what was going on. The hairs rose on the back of my neck as I looked at the norm facing us. Male, 5'8" maybe 160 lbs. Shaved head, no tats, no scars, well built, wearing what looked like dark green silk pajamas. So what? you say. How scary is some clown in pj's? The thing that made my hair stand on end was how he and the boss were facing each other. It was the way ganglords from the neighborhood or wild west gunfighters in the vids size each other up before the throw down.
My hand inched towards the blaster on my hip. Green man's eyes flicked towards me for about a nanosecond and then went back to the boss. Another inch and the boss said "No". I dropped my hand back to my side, hoping that the boss' orders were based on his strategic analysis of the situation and not some artifact induced brainfart. I pulled Tommy to me as I sidled away to give the boss some room.
They stood facing each other for several centuries. They didn't speak or move, just stood there staring at each other. Finally the man in green asked, "Shall we begin?"
When the boss shrugged the green man was already flashing across the floor.
I don’t know exactly how I can describe this. I mean I knew what was happening in a logical sort of way, but I was right there and my eyes weren’t giving me data on what was happening. The boss and this guy in green were moving so fast that most of what they were doing was a blur. I heard what sounded like a suppressed smg and realized that it was the two of them hitting and blocking each other. Can you imagine? Like time had been speeded up for just the two of them so I heard one continuous thpthpthpthpthpthpthp.
These two physads (what else could the guy in green be?) were fighting so fast that my brain could translate the image my eyes were seeing into something I could understand. Just blurs and a continuous staccato sound. Bizarre.
After several minutes of this the boss flew about a dozen feet to land on his ass. Greenboy cocked his head to the side and stared at the boss as though he were some kind of unexpected but interesting insect.
“You dilute the art” the man in green said with same emotion you or I might give to “You wear blue jeans”. He then adopted a praying mantis stance and the next thing I knew he and the boss were doing their warp speed dance again.
A couple of minutes more of this and its greenboy who came flying out. He was picking himself up off the floor when the boss said “Inflexible”. This pissed off the guy in green who immediately launched himself back at the boss.
After a few seconds the sound changed. It was still pretty continuous but it seemed louder. I thought maybe they were hitting and countering harder because the sound was sharper- more distinct. I’m not really describing it well, but a situation that was already pretty alarming was rapidly becoming downright scary.
When the pair flew apart again the boss was wiping a line of blood from the corner of his mouth and the greenguy was blinking rapidly to clear his swelling right eye. By some sort of unspoken understanding instead of launching back into it, they faced each other again.
The man in green said. “Unorthodox, but challenging.”
The boss bowed as though this was some kind of compliment. “Praise from a Mantis Master” the boss said, but before he could continue….
“You’re chi is not in harmony” the guy in green interrupted as though the boss had not spoken. “If we continue, you will die.” He said it with the same tone of unshakable, self-evident truth as he had used earlier.
Maybe I’d known him too long, or maybe I was just projecting my own feelings on him, but I think the boss wanted to test greenboy’s assertion that continuing the fight would mean his death. Not that he wanted to die, you understand, just that….well, I mean, if some insufferable prig dismissed you as inadequate at the thing you do best, you’d want to feed him those words. his teeth and probably some other parts of his anatomy too, wouldn’t you?
The thing is, by not testing greenie’s assertion the boss kind of proved it wrong. He was centered enough not to be provoked by the rude SOB, so he was probably centered enough to be the one doing the ass kicking. Least that’s the way I saw it. I figured it was a sign that he was getting back to his old self. At least, I hoped so.
Having delivered his put down, greenjeans looked over at me and Tommy and asked the boss “What is this?”
“We were requested to deliver the child to Killkenny” the boss said.
“Mercenaries” the man in green said as though he’d just stepped in a pile of something. “How much?”
“Are you Killkenny?” The boss asked.
The man in green looked at the boss hard. I think he considered lying but by the time he made his decision he realized that he had taken too much time to carry it off.. The frustration over this, (I'm guessing), is what made his look more hateful. I think maybe he realized that Owen's failure to rise to the bait might mean he was centered enough to avoid dying or perhaps he just thought not bringing our "data" to his employer wasn’t in his best interest. Either way, he gestured for us to follow him.
Next to the mirrored stairwell there was a mirrored elevator, filled with....mirrors. As we stood in this smaller version of the optical trick box that was the first floor, I began to appreciate the mind behind it. Tommy was occupied trying to catch his left hand image doing something that his right hand image wasn't, while the boss and greenboy each acted as though the other was invisible.
Where I originally thought whoever had laid the place out must have been a narcissist (yeah, I know what it means-do you?) I began to understand the method to their madness. Anybody trying to sneak in would find himself in a seemingly gigantic room, with no cover, where any motion was "repeated" endlessly. This is, of course, if they could avoid the vertigo, and/or distraction of being in the center of an infinite number of optical clones stretching to the horizon in every direction. Now. into this environment you station a phys ad as a guard dog and a)he begins to think of himself as the center of the universe and B) you get very few uninvited visitors through the front door.
The chime announced the elevator had reached its destination and we all filed out.
This story is copyright of the author. Shadowrun was a Registered Trademark of FASA Corporation until they went busto foldo. Now Wizkids LLC owns it.....or possibly FanPro.....er..um...... Topps maybe? (I lost my score card). Whoever holds the trademark, they didn't call and tell me it was ok to write this, and anybody who says I said that is full of it. I'm not challenging any of the rights or trademarks of anybody who own's them, whoever they are. I'm just writing stories. Honest. Thank you for not litigating.
Until we got to Columbia and Mason.
Now, don't get ahead of me and start building a picture of post-apocalyptic urban decay, because the corner of Columbia and Mason were exactly the opposite. As we approached the intersection, the streets got cleaner and cleaner. Windows shone, flowers bloomed in brightly painted windowboxes, it was like stepping into some city planner's fantasy of the perfect urban environment. Very, very weird.
Columbia and Mason turned out to be the site of a modest office building. Well, to be accurate, I guess I should say it was the site of an office building, a park, a construction site and the cleanest church parking lot I ever saw. (Four corners, ya know?) We pulled up to the working address and as I was about to get out of the Bear a well built orc appeared out of nowhere and leaned on the outside of the door. He tapped on the glass for me to roll down the window and when I turned to ask the boss how he wanted to play this I saw a similarly dressed norm had taken an identical position outside of his door.
We exchanged shrugs and I rolled down the windows.
"You gents lost?" my "server"asked with a mock helpful tone.
When the boss didn't speak up I said "No."
"You think you got business here?" The norm asked in a voice so raspy that some of the words seemed whispered.
"Kilkenny" the boss said in his quiet voice. I immediately figured trouble was coming.
"You think that name cuts ice, do ya, jack?" raspy asked.
"My name's not jack" the boss said.
The next thing I knew the boss had thrown the door open with enough force to put raspy on his ass out in the middle of the street. Quick as spit my server reached into his jacket, and since I didn't want to see what he's going to pull out, I grabbed his elbow and jerked him back towards me repeatedly. This had the effect of smashing his face into the SUV's doorframe until he was left with a mouthful of bloody chiclets.
Tommy was cowering behind his stuffed toy as the boss went after raspy. The norm, still sprawled on his ass, pulled his piece just in time for the boss to punt it into his nose. This caused raspy's nose, now spread over a large portion of his face, to spew blood like a firehose. Satisfied that his assailant was out of action, the boss zipped around the back of the car and chopped my now mumbling friend into oblivion.
Columbia & Mason was a 4-way intersection and at virtually the same time we were smacking around the welcoming party the streets were closing off a block away in every direction. In front, I could see a garbage truck was making a pick up, behind us a tractor trailer was making a nerps delivery, to my left a fender bender blocked both lanes of Mason and to my right I could see a roadmaster getting or giving a jumpstart to some kind of panel truck.Now, I like coincidence as much as the next guy, but even I smelled a rat.
"Trapped" I said, hoping the boss would do his strategic thinking thing and give me a course of action.
"Yep."
"Might as well go in then, huh?"
"Yep."
"Should I bring the kid?"
"Yep"
I took Tommy's hand and we followed the boss into the building.
The first floor of the building was entirely empty. No furniture, no plants, no people, no doors, no walls. The floor to ceiling windows were covered with reflective mylar and looked like mirrors. Directly opposite of where we came in, and seemingly 100 yards away, there was a stairwell which was also covered with mirrors. I had to look at the floor in front of me to avoid the vertigo/nausea/disorientation of seeing millions of myself marching along through an endless expanse of nothing.
Tommy, whose head was suddenly on a swivel, giggled with delight and then looked up at me to see if I was enjoying the funhouse as much as he was. I noticed this because I was looking down and gave him a wink and my best toothless grin..
We kept walking until the boss stopped moving and I looked up to see what was going on. The hairs rose on the back of my neck as I looked at the norm facing us. Male, 5'8" maybe 160 lbs. Shaved head, no tats, no scars, well built, wearing what looked like dark green silk pajamas. So what? you say. How scary is some clown in pj's? The thing that made my hair stand on end was how he and the boss were facing each other. It was the way ganglords from the neighborhood or wild west gunfighters in the vids size each other up before the throw down.
My hand inched towards the blaster on my hip. Green man's eyes flicked towards me for about a nanosecond and then went back to the boss. Another inch and the boss said "No". I dropped my hand back to my side, hoping that the boss' orders were based on his strategic analysis of the situation and not some artifact induced brainfart. I pulled Tommy to me as I sidled away to give the boss some room.
They stood facing each other for several centuries. They didn't speak or move, just stood there staring at each other. Finally the man in green asked, "Shall we begin?"
When the boss shrugged the green man was already flashing across the floor.
I don’t know exactly how I can describe this. I mean I knew what was happening in a logical sort of way, but I was right there and my eyes weren’t giving me data on what was happening. The boss and this guy in green were moving so fast that most of what they were doing was a blur. I heard what sounded like a suppressed smg and realized that it was the two of them hitting and blocking each other. Can you imagine? Like time had been speeded up for just the two of them so I heard one continuous thpthpthpthpthpthpthp.
These two physads (what else could the guy in green be?) were fighting so fast that my brain could translate the image my eyes were seeing into something I could understand. Just blurs and a continuous staccato sound. Bizarre.
After several minutes of this the boss flew about a dozen feet to land on his ass. Greenboy cocked his head to the side and stared at the boss as though he were some kind of unexpected but interesting insect.
“You dilute the art” the man in green said with same emotion you or I might give to “You wear blue jeans”. He then adopted a praying mantis stance and the next thing I knew he and the boss were doing their warp speed dance again.
A couple of minutes more of this and its greenboy who came flying out. He was picking himself up off the floor when the boss said “Inflexible”. This pissed off the guy in green who immediately launched himself back at the boss.
After a few seconds the sound changed. It was still pretty continuous but it seemed louder. I thought maybe they were hitting and countering harder because the sound was sharper- more distinct. I’m not really describing it well, but a situation that was already pretty alarming was rapidly becoming downright scary.
When the pair flew apart again the boss was wiping a line of blood from the corner of his mouth and the greenguy was blinking rapidly to clear his swelling right eye. By some sort of unspoken understanding instead of launching back into it, they faced each other again.
The man in green said. “Unorthodox, but challenging.”
The boss bowed as though this was some kind of compliment. “Praise from a Mantis Master” the boss said, but before he could continue….
“You’re chi is not in harmony” the guy in green interrupted as though the boss had not spoken. “If we continue, you will die.” He said it with the same tone of unshakable, self-evident truth as he had used earlier.
Maybe I’d known him too long, or maybe I was just projecting my own feelings on him, but I think the boss wanted to test greenboy’s assertion that continuing the fight would mean his death. Not that he wanted to die, you understand, just that….well, I mean, if some insufferable prig dismissed you as inadequate at the thing you do best, you’d want to feed him those words. his teeth and probably some other parts of his anatomy too, wouldn’t you?
The thing is, by not testing greenie’s assertion the boss kind of proved it wrong. He was centered enough not to be provoked by the rude SOB, so he was probably centered enough to be the one doing the ass kicking. Least that’s the way I saw it. I figured it was a sign that he was getting back to his old self. At least, I hoped so.
Having delivered his put down, greenjeans looked over at me and Tommy and asked the boss “What is this?”
“We were requested to deliver the child to Killkenny” the boss said.
“Mercenaries” the man in green said as though he’d just stepped in a pile of something. “How much?”
“Are you Killkenny?” The boss asked.
The man in green looked at the boss hard. I think he considered lying but by the time he made his decision he realized that he had taken too much time to carry it off.. The frustration over this, (I'm guessing), is what made his look more hateful. I think maybe he realized that Owen's failure to rise to the bait might mean he was centered enough to avoid dying or perhaps he just thought not bringing our "data" to his employer wasn’t in his best interest. Either way, he gestured for us to follow him.
Next to the mirrored stairwell there was a mirrored elevator, filled with....mirrors. As we stood in this smaller version of the optical trick box that was the first floor, I began to appreciate the mind behind it. Tommy was occupied trying to catch his left hand image doing something that his right hand image wasn't, while the boss and greenboy each acted as though the other was invisible.
Where I originally thought whoever had laid the place out must have been a narcissist (yeah, I know what it means-do you?) I began to understand the method to their madness. Anybody trying to sneak in would find himself in a seemingly gigantic room, with no cover, where any motion was "repeated" endlessly. This is, of course, if they could avoid the vertigo, and/or distraction of being in the center of an infinite number of optical clones stretching to the horizon in every direction. Now. into this environment you station a phys ad as a guard dog and a)he begins to think of himself as the center of the universe and B) you get very few uninvited visitors through the front door.
The chime announced the elevator had reached its destination and we all filed out.
This story is copyright of the author. Shadowrun was a Registered Trademark of FASA Corporation until they went busto foldo. Now Wizkids LLC owns it.....or possibly FanPro.....er..um...... Topps maybe? (I lost my score card). Whoever holds the trademark, they didn't call and tell me it was ok to write this, and anybody who says I said that is full of it. I'm not challenging any of the rights or trademarks of anybody who own's them, whoever they are. I'm just writing stories. Honest. Thank you for not litigating.
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