About This Blog

Shapcano was the moniker used by William H. Shapland. My brother Bill is remembered and his memory honored by people in many different circles. We were touched to have the Washington Post publish an article about him when he left us in April, and overwhelmed to see Georgetown University's tribute and life celebration. We were moved once again to find fans of his writing keeping his on-line published works alive. This blog is my contribution to that effort. Thanks for visiting.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Of Mice and Elephants

Of Mice and Elephants
by shapcano
(Read Mickey the Mouse first)
(Then read A Better Mousetrap)

".....that our young rodent, AH! Mickey, my lad!" Doc said when the decker stepped down from the back of the Roadmaster. "I apprehend you were feeling poorly, and I was devastated to hear it. Actually, I blame myself for not sharing some other dishes from Master Owen's good repast. I'm sure that it was the food rather than witnessing the bloody demise of those mercs, who would have, incidentally, delighted in eviscerating you slowly and painfully. Perhaps if you had tried something easier to digest, like, for example some of that excellent squid in that thin black sauce. Why, even cold, although it is a little greasier..."
"Doc!" Owen said "Don't do that."
"Aw, boss," Itami called out from the chopper, "It wasn't like he was offering da kid one a dem fatty pork dishes or dat thick white lobster sauce....."
"Ughhhh" this sound came from the retreating decker's back as he hurried back to his basket in the back of the truck.
"Was that necessary?" Owen asked. Shaking his head as he went back to sorting and cleaning the captured weapons, disapproval clearly evident. Both Doc and Itami sheepishly went to get bottled water and to check on the puking youngster.
Hamon spoke up when the pair had left "Stupid"
"Cruel" Owen agreed
"But sorta funny" Lug amended and he and Hamon chuckled.
Owen said "Now I know why Felix says we need a female around here."
Lug could not resist replying "If we can't get a female will a ork wit a dainty tummy do?"
Before Owen could reply the telecomm started chirping. Owen hand signaled the pair to get the group and join him at the comm.

As the lost boys gathered around the comm unit, Owen was in intense conversation with Felix. ".....ya gotta see, babe." The image on the screen showed an attractive young woman standing in front of a burning industrial park.
"...... loss of life. But as you can see behind me the entire park, buildings, storage facilities, manufacturing plants and offices, all of ITC's business future is going up in smoke. A "hot" property on the trading floor has now become......."
"DREK!" Owen shouted out, startling the lost boys. "Evac immediate. Three minutes from now we are on the road. Doc- you're the sweep, take the SAAB. Lug&Hamon- get the bikes in the truck, take the Jackrabbit. Itami- get the drones and ordinance into the truck. Mickey- get that pile of gear into the truck. Everybody grab bugout bags and ammo. Everybody grab a new wrist comm but leave them off until 8 minutes from now. We could catch major hell any second, gentlemen. Move!"
A testament to the experience of the lost boys and, ironically, Mickey's lack of the same, there was no hesitation or question. Quickly, quietly and efficiently the team removed as much of value from the warehouse as they could. Owen had signed off after a very brief conversation with Felix when a second call came through.
"Yes" he answered.
"Owen, it's me. Turn on the vid. What's going on, darling?"
"Drek! Sayla, I can't talk to you now. Please, go visit your uncle Gal. Now. Immediately."
An experienced shadowrunner as well as the love of Owen's life, Sayla Starseeker recognized the fear in the phys ad's voice. Although she was dying to know what was going on, the elf mage disconnected, grabbed her pistol and threw on her coat. The travel duffel that she had brought back from her last assignment, which she had dropped in the entry to Owen's doss filled one hand and unfortunately, the Bonsai tree that she had brought back as a gift for her lover occupied the other. This was unfortunate because, thus encumbered she had less freedom of action to avoid the evilly grinning dwarf with the narcojet waiting just outside her door. His leering grin as he shot her gave her a clue as to the reason for Owen's fear.

Four minutes and fifty two seconds after Owen's exclamation, the lost boys were turning on the interstate. Ten seconds later the wristphones began to ring. As Owen, sitting in the back of the Roadmaster, called Mickey and Itami in the front, the decker looked quizzically at the rigger.
"Conference call lets us all participate, makes sure our encrypted comm gear works, lets da boss tell us what he's figured out all at once." Itami said quietly.
"Gentlemen. We have a major problem. My strategy has been based on the reactions of a local corp. The destruction of ITC indicates we have some much bigger players in the game. The fate of ITC has led me to conclude that the new player or players cannot be described as subtle." Owen paused for the rueful chuckles. "And since we all know that the majors usually rely on subtlety to avoid antagonizing each other, I'm forced to conclude that the data Mickey found is of great enough value that the big boys don't care if everybody knows they're going for the prize. If anyone has another workable thesis I'd like to hear it now."
After a few second of silence Owen continued, "Now, I have to say that, forgive me Mickey, being a mouse with a peanut among a herd of hungry elephants is not my idea of a good position. Whichever pachyderm we pick to give the prize to is as likely to step on us out of sheer clumsiness as it is to protect us from the others of it's ilk. I believe, therefore, that we've got to put the prize where everyone can get it and we are no longer involved. I know this minimizes the profit potential of having the item most wanted by the rich and famous, but it does maximize our chances of survival. Pull in at the rest area ahead and we'll discuss this face to face. Out."

The greed and love of an easy cred that figures into nearly all shadowrunners' make up, sometimes wars with the instinct for survival. Old runners refer to this as stupidity. Although each of the lost boys had some dream of a bonanza-run-to-pay-for-retirement, the complete destruction of ITC's physical plant clearly indicated that this was not that dream run. When everyone had pulled into the rest area Owen spoke first.
"We don't know what's on the chip. We don't know for sure who wants it. We have indicators that Renraku and Mitsuhama may be involved. We also have a very blatant and destructive move which might involve those corps or indicate there are other players in the game. Considering the size of ITC and it's own wherewithal, I'd say that killing that corp was pricey and dangerous because now Major corps, Second or third level corps, and Governments are all going to develop an interest and want to join in the race for the prize that Mickey brought us. The six of us don't have the juice to make a deal with this size player and being chased by a herd of hungry elephants is not my idea of smart mouse-like behavior. I think we should get rid of it, but everybody's got to agree because were giving up a potential fortune."
"It ain't a fortune, so much as it's a ticking tactical nuke, Sensei." Lug said "I lost this game before and I don't like remembering how much it cost. Get rid of it."
Doc then said "Far be it from me to either agree with the diminutive ronin or give away a potential fortune, but your analysis has the ring of truth to it, oh peerless logician, and I am far too attractive to be flattened by some lumbering behemoth. I only ask why we could not simply hide the dingus for a better day."
"Corps want it, corps find it. Kill us while looking. Lose it" Hamon answered. After a few seconds Doc acknowledged the truth of the statement with a nod.
"Boss, ya know I back your play." Itami said "I wish we could get somethin, specially since I hadta leave a perfectly good chopper behind. I know, I know it needed some engine work, but I coulda had it flyin in no time and now we may lose it as we run. But, I guess dat's da way da gears turn, so lets get it outta here."
Everyone waited in silence for a few seconds until Mouse realized they were waiting for his decision "I....uh...I dunno. You guys know what yer doin. Why ya askin me?"
"Because you are a member of the team, my weak stomached lad." Doc said, "Despite your tendency towards nausea, you have more to say about the disposition of the gimcrack than any, for you retrieved it initially."
"But you all want to get rid of it. What if I wuz ta say I wanted ta keep it."
"Mickey," Owen responded "We work together because we want to. If you can convince us that we're wrong about this, we'll change our minds. Or, if you want to strike out on your own, there's nothing wrong with that either. We won't compel you to do anything. You have to decide."
After a few quiet seconds, Mickey said "I'd really like ta turn dis inta big creds so dat I could get upgrades and wiz programs an all. But you guys ain't scared a much an you think it's gonna get us squished, I'll go with ya on this. And...uh...well, thanks for includin me in the decision."
"Well we have to include ya, kid. Yer da one dats gotta give it to all a da corps" Itami said.
"SAY WHAT?!" Mouse replied
"Mickey" Owen said "We have to put the data packet where everybody can get it so there's no longer any profit in chasing us. We can declare the race a draw by giving everybody, including the spectators, the prize. That means you've got to find a way to take the data packet and Spam it all over the Matrix so that our elephantine and unsubtle pursuit can't simply nuke a bulletin board and keep the data private. Whether it's a formula for 'do-it-yourself Ebola virus' or revealing photos of the love lives of Corp CEO's, you've got to get it to universities and libraries and other corps and government offices and newsfaxes. Whatever the chip contains, we've got to give the info to everybody if we're to avoid getting stepped on. It's gonna be a hell of a programming challenge because there's a time element involved and were gonna have to keep moving. I'm sure that the matrix is already hopping as they look for you and unless I'm wrong we're going to start seeing physical pursuit very soon. You have to write the program that will disperse the data, we've got to keep you alive until you do, and save us all. Simple, neh?"
"You.....uh, mean......"
"He means, oh delicate constitutioned one, that, not to put too fine a point on it, our hoops are in your hands," Doc interrupted. "Recognizing the value I place on that part of my particular anatomy, and assuming that such valuation is consistent amongst all of the brethren, may I suggest that you get to it, and do that voodoo that you do so well, as opposed to standing here sputtering with mouth agape and arms akimbo."
"Any questions?" Owen asked. "Alright then, Lug, will you take lead while Doc continues in the sweep position? Thank you."
The lost boys' caravan quickly moved on into the night.

"Uh...Brak, I ain't so sure about this....."
"Listen Janet", Brak responded. "Tigra's tendin her busted wing and Crusher couldn't punch his way outta a wet paper bag. He did his part findin the fraggin chess player's doss. Now we got his squeeze and when Crusher finds him we're gonna trade. He can have the slitch if he gives us back Baby and all da drek he stole. Plus...uh, well, he's gotta pay us fer losin Mandrake and Jason. Witout da fatboy and da keeb we're short handed so it's only fair he compensates us."
"But Brak," The Sam replied, "we don't know the first thing about this elf bimbo. What if she's connected or magical or somethin. We could end up....."
"What, we could end up flat busted wit our reps in da drekker an only backup weapons? Girlie, dat's where we are now. I don't give a flyin frag at a rollin donut what you or anybody else tinks. We're takin da slitch fer barganin and if ya don't get wit da program, yer hoops gonna be laid out right next ta da fatboy's. Now help me roll her up in dis rug and lets get outta here before da fragger comes home."

Mouse began programming as intensely as he was able. Taking the boss's instructions to heart, he knew he had to get the data, which he still had not looked at, to as many public places as possible. Places where it would be picked up and spread. He also knew that any single starting point, no matter how popular, might get sat on by one of the "elephants" chasing them. In spite of the tension the decker smiled at the aptness of the analogy. He had to get the data to so may sites so fast that the elephants wouldn't be able to squash them all. He reasoned that to accomplish his goal he would have to be both blatant and subtle. He began programming his multi pronged attack.
Four hours later the tension of waiting for an attack while driving round the city was so intense that nearly everyone jumped when the decker called "Boss, I got it!" Owen had the caravan pull into another rest stop so the decker could explain what he had come up with.
"It's obvious and subtle," the excited decker exclaimed as the group gathered. "Anybody got anything ta eat? I'm starvin." Shaking their heads both Hamon and Doc offered candy bars which the ork began inhaling as he paced back and forth explaining his plan.
"Ok, so the obvious move. I post to Shadowland through a local board I know. Not subtle, but expected. Then I incase the data as text for a financial extract. Incredibly dull and full of formulas anyway, so it passes for our attempt to get clever. Even though it's pretty easily stopped, I'm betting that a bunch of public libraries will get the data before anyone realizes the Library of Congress catalogue number is bogus. A minor attack that may keep them busy is a page I took from a journalist I read about named Zeb Waverly. He put a simple printer override virus in the stuff he was tryin ta get out and anytime anybody started looking at the file they got a hard copy whether they wanted it or not. Now, I've got that, but my own brilliant twist is I managed ta put a name randomizer on the file. It's self replicating and every time it reproduces itself, it will change it's name so a simple destroy xyz.file won't take it out. Finally, the discovered attack: my first mailing will be to each corp and government's e-mail address as the financial abstract and as a personal e-mail to a random employee and as a sale announcement from a shopping network. I'm betting that as soon as they begin to realize that everybody's attempting to sanitize their own systems, they'll figure out that everybody's got a copy and give up on trying to supress it."
"Mouse, it sounds like dat chess playin has given ya a devious mind." Lug said "What is the data, anyway?"
"It's an algorithm that breaks public key encryption."
"WHAT?!" the lost boys exclaimed in unison.
"Looks like the programmers at ITC stumbled on an algorithm that can be used to break public key encryption. Ya know, don't ya, dat we're just using a refined variant of the program that was written like 60-70 years ago. Well, it's always been considered unbreakable so no serious research has been launched into overcoming the multi key system. This formula actually does it. Until somebody overcomes this programming or designs a new public/private key system anybody who has this gets ta peek at the other guy's cards. When ya think about it, it's probably only that anybody who smelled this would try to keep it completely quiet that's prevented world war three from being declared ta get this. Somethin musta broke down for ITC to have been killed in such an obvious way."
"Drek!" Owen exclaimed "Lets get this out of our hands right now! There are nations that would actually launch nukes over this. Mickey add embassies to your e-mail lists. Anybody else got anything to add?"
"Direct e-mailers. Spam masters already work from shadows" Hamon said.
"Excellent point! Here's a cred stick to hire those slime. Now if our luck will just......"
"BIKERS INCOMING!" Itami yelled. The group melted back into their vehicles as the go gangers started to pull into the rest area.

Doc's manablast took out the front ranks of the bikers and caused enough of a traffic back up to allow the caravan to get back on to the road. As Mouse began "planting the peanut" Owen called for Doc to move up and for the truck to take the trail position. Knowing better than to argue at a critical juncture, Doc eased the sportscar up in front of the Roadmaster. Owen opened the back door on the truck and then hit the button on in his bike, spraying calthrops all over the interstate. The steel jacks proved more deadly on the highway than they ever had in the city, as a blowout at 65 or 70 miles per hour, tends to be rougher on both vehicle and rider than a similar blowout at city speeds.
Pulling the door closed as the Roadmaster screamed down the interstate, Owen spotted the approaching three Yellowjackets and called a warning to the rest of the team.
"Ok boys, the drek has hit the fan. Whatever elephant the go-gang was working for has competition. We've now got attack choppers moving up from the south. Looks like it sucks to be us. Stay sharp."
The Yellowjackets proved that Owen's guess at their loyalties was correct. As the lead ship continued to pace the Roadmaster, it's partners began spraying the biker contingent with chin mounted mini guns. The ganger's leather jackets provided them with very little cover on the deserted stretch of four lane. No more cover, in fact, than the open sky held for the chopper targeted by one ganger's fireball spell, which ignited the helicopter's fuel lines and caused the one man chopper to become a single occupant, rapidly descending, crematorium. The second Yellowjacket avoided a similar fate by adding it's missiles to the minigun barrage. This strategy was flawless, wiping out the remaining bikers as it did. Ironically, the lack of missiles meant that the Yellowjacket had little in the way of sting to defend itself from the Aguilar-EX attack chopper which put in an appearance.
Where the Yellowjacket was a one man chopper modified for security work, the Aguilar-EX was a Milspec attack craft. In less time than it takes to describe the air-to-air missiles from the Aztechnology bird took out it's opponent. Seconds later a brief firefight ensued with the lead Yellowjacket. Although the Yellowjacket had not expended it's load of missiles, the firefight was and equally one-sided affair as the military attack craft simply out gunned the security chopper in every category.
Having disposed of it's competition, the Aguilar then began tearing up the interstate between the lead cars and the truck. The pilot had apparently determined that the largest vehicle was most likely the one containing it's target and utilizing the initiative that earns combat veterans both promotions and court martials, had decided that he wanted to capture rather than simply eliminate his prey. By isolating the Roadmaster and destroying the highway in front of it, the pilot was subtly indicating his desire for the truck to pull over.
The appearance of a feathered serpent above the truck shifted battle lines again. When the chopper pilot backed off and prepared to defend himself, Itami made a mad dash between recently excavated pot holes and sped into the night. After several minutes of aerobatic ballet between the chopper and the Draco form, the pilot noted his chaingun fire wasn't injuring his opponent. Realizing that he had been had, the pilot resolved that there would not be a capture mission, after all, but there would be several kills. He flew through a blast of illusionary dragon fire to resume pursuit.
"Heads up, my friends, our newest playmate has seen through my subterfuge. I don't imagine he's pleased." Doc said as his astral form returned to his body. As he resumed manual control of the sportscar, he added, "The overpasses and cloverleaves of the interchange ahead might afford us some cover. I suggest a stop."
In the absence of an objection, Itami and Lug slowed when under the cover of the series of overpasses to join the waiting Doc. The Aguilar pilot did not, unfortunately, see the east-west exchange, or the travelers upon it, as a particular impediment to his mission. He simply blew up segments of the interstate until his prey was again exposed in preparation for the completion of his attack. The appearance of a western dragon, flying in from the east only caused the pilot to snort as he lined up on the truck. The destruction of the lost boys was prevented when a blast of fire that the Draco form released detonated the Aguilar remaining stock of missiles, blowing the stubby weapons' pod wings off the chopper, much to the surprise of the highly annoyed pilot.
"OH DREK! That'snotme!" Doc yelled and the vehicles began dodging around shattered sections of overpass in their attempt to escape. The Aguilar pilot, meanwhile, pursuing some strange machismo code, placed the rotorcraft between the dragon and the fleeing convoy, confronting the dragon with a craft which had lost it's ability to attack. So strange was this behavior that the lost boys were able to drive at high speed for some minutes as the Draco form puzzled out the rotorcraft's game. Eventually the dragon grew annoyed at the suicidal lunges of the chopper and in a looping motion managed to score a hit on the tail, causing the helicopter to spin out of control and crash.
Before the dragon could resume it's pursuit, a flight of missiles from an incoming pair of BAC-Desault-MBB EFA assault jets announced a new player in the game. Ironically, once again, the similarity of purpose that the various attacking elements shared, that of destroying the lost boys and their vehicles, meant nothing to the competitors. If one group had simply let the other group do their job, the lost boys would have been a memory, but because each "elephant" was intent on being the one to stomp the "mouse", they kept running into each other and the mouse continued to survive. Because elephantine competition continued to manifest, the desires of some of the largest and most powerful groups in the world continued to be thwarted by a young ork decker on the second job of his life, sitting in the back of a truck. As the dragon and the pair of assault jets took their aerial ballet to a higher level a GMC Banshee approaching from the north began blowing approaching vehicles off the interstate.
Lug's warning call about the LAV allowed the convoy to make an immediate exit from the interstate onto the state roads of the suburban countryside. When Mouse came forward to say that the data had been fully dispersed, Owen quickly ordered him to get back to his deck and continue disseminating the info. "If you can't think of anybody else to send it to, start back at the top of the list! These bastards aren't going to give over pursuit until they know for certain that it is pointless."
Sweating as he jacked in again, Mouse began making really obvious moves in the matrix. He crashed virtual bars "screaming" his data and alerted paranoid "watcher" groups that vital data was being dispersed. He hired more and more inept Spam masters knowing that it increased the visibility of what he was doing while getting the data in more people's hands. He gave data "exclusives" to competing newsfaxes and even to competing reporters within specific newsfaxes or trid stations in the hope of demonstrating to the elephants that everybody had the peanut. He turned off that part of his mind that recognized the swaying and bumping of the truck as danger signs. He tried desperately to shut out the sounds of explosions which rocked the vehicle as the Banshee continued to fire on them, concentrating only on his mission. He had to get the word out and if it meant succeeding with his dying thought, Mouse was determined to get the data into as many hands as possible.
When the LAV's rotary autocanons began smashing in the rear left quadrant of the truck's armored body, Itami screamed "THAT'S ENOUGH" and raised a traversing Firelance Vehicle Laser. A lucky hit on the Banshee's weapon's turret detonated enough of the autocannon's ammo to silence the LAV's big guns. It did not, of course, silence the Heavy or Medium machine guns of the scout configured Low Altitude Vehicle, which continued to pound on the damaged rear quarter of the truck while quickly closing the distance with it's prey. Temporarily sidetracked by the need to deal with the sudden appearance of a feathered serpent, the banshee pilot was no quicker to recognize Doc's illusion than the chopper pilot had been. Unfortunately, autodrive on a straight section of interstate is very different than autodrive on winding country roads. When Doc's astral form recognized the danger his physical body was in, he quickly returned to his material form to drive the car, giving the banshee pilot enough clues to recognize that he had been distracted by an illusion. He'd also take hits from the Roadmaster's vehicle laser, but was in good enough shape to continue the pursuit.
Because Doc had been working his feathered serpent illusion, Lug and Hamon had taken responsibility for finding a course south. Since there destination had more to do with time than location they thought that doubling back on a parallel course might confuse pursuit. It didn't confuse the Banshee's Pilot, or the wounded but functioning Western Dragon which still chased the crew.
Fortunately, before either of those competitors could complete their respective missions or begin their attacks on each other, word reached them that there would be no payday for this assignment. The banshee pilot got the word on his comm and shrugging, broke off pursuit. This gave the dragon enough pause to receive word from an astral . Although his blood was up the worm recognized that his injuries needed care more than his pride needed vengance.
After several minutes of quiet as the convoy bumped along a country road, Owen went back to Mouse and told the sweating decker. "Good job, Mickey. Looks like you saved us all." The wide eyed ork whispered "You gotta come with me, boss. We been summoned"

There were a lot of things Owen hated about the hitcher jack. Primarily, he resented the complete lack of control it forced on him. He was little more than a spectator and the helplessness frightened him. The wonder of the matrix with it's surreal light show were lost as the Phys ad's mind screamed against his being completely at the mercy of others. He understood little of the trip or of the security check points he passed along the way to the virtual conference room. He imagined that the shadowy figures who sat around the table were intended to impress and frighten him, but he was too angry at himself for his fear to be impressed by this obvious psychological ploy.
"So, you are the two who have been irresponsibly spreading dangerous information around the world......"
"Ha Ha, I like that, 'Dangerous information', that's good." Owen interrupted.
The dimly lit figure that had been speaking seemed so put out at being interrupted that it did not know how to react. Another voice responded "What is it about the phrase that you find amusing?"
"Information is information. It is neutral. Only the use it is put to can be called dangerous and those who would judge the safety or danger that a piece of data may have, utilize such colossal arrogance in predicting the future that I find them funny."
After a minute of hubbub around the table a new voice, one silky with menace said "We're so glad you are amused. Perhaps you will be so good as to explain to us why you chose to distribute this data, dangerous or not, all over the planet."
"You mean instead of selling it to the highest bidder? Simple. Anyone who gained this 'dangerous data' would eliminate us in the interest of security. We couldn't hide it because, before we even knew what it was, we saw that major powers were willing to do anything to get it back. It was simply too hot a property to hold onto and we couldn't trust anyone who would buy something this secret and 'dangerous'. " Owen responded.
"Did you give any thought to the implications of your actions. To the responsibility that......"
"Excuse me. Yes. My responsibility was to avoid dying. It was to keep my team from getting killed. If you're asking about whether I thought about how annoyed corp and governments and others would be about not being able to keep their business secret, yes I considered it, but it wasn't worth the assured death of myself and my team that any other course of action entailed. If the secret could not be kept, the only way to maintain balance was to make sure that it was no longer a secret, that everybody had it. "
"Well, we of the corporate court may decide on that you and your team merit extermination for your actions", the first voice said "So you really haven't survived by adopting this course, have you?"
"Possibly not," Owen said, "But it seemed a better choice to pursue enlightened self interest rather than dying from greed or inaction, courses whose lethality, I notice, no-one has denied. May I ask if anyone here would have done differently if the same data was known to be in their hands?"
The silence of the group was very telling. The second voice that Owen had heard said "You seem to have made your point. We'd like the entire story in your own words."
For the next twenty minutes, Owen explained what had happened and what conclusions had dictated his actions. When he was done there was a brief period of silence. Finally the menacing voice said "You may leave. Now."

As he jacked out the shaking decker croaked "Boss, was that really.......... Uh.....Christo! Those guys were pissed.....if they....."
"Calm down, Mickey," Owen said. "Everybody dies eventually. If today is our day, it's our day. I don't know if that was really the boys and girls from Zurich Orbital or not, but there isn't any profit in revenge, they can't get the toothpaste back in the tube and they as much as admitted that we had no good choice. I don't think they would be so petty as to try to ice us because they're having a bad hair day, but, if I'm wrong, we'll deal with it. Nobody is ever guaranteed a tomorrow, my friend. On a more positive note, I want to thank you for your adroit handling of the situation."
"Ya did real good, kid" Itami said.
"Yes. An exceptional first effort, young rodent. Very impressive" Doc added.
When Lug said "Now if ya could just keep from blowin yer cookies, at every little thing, you'd be rock solid".
Hamon extended his hand and looking the ork in the eye said "Thanks"
"And it seems you've found a home, if you want one, Mickey." Owen concluded with a smile.
"Really?" Mickey responded, "Ya mean.......yeah. Chill. I'm a lost boy. Wiz."

Sayla awoke to find herself rolled in a rug, bouncing along in the back of a Nissan-Holden Brumby. As soon as she opened her eyes she saw a growling ork female samurai who said:
"Don't say nothin an ya stay alive. We ain't gonna hurt ya if ya don't give us no trouble. Just shaddup an y'all live."
Sayla nodded and mouthed the question "Why?"
"Brak wants ya fer bait. Dat's all. Just relax."
Sayla closed her eyes, seeming to surrender, as she sent her astral form out to reconnoiter. There was a male dwarf rigger driving the vehicle and a human female samurai sitting in the seat next to him. In addition to the Ork in the back of the van there was a skinny norm male who had a deck of some kind clutched to his chest as he rocked back and forth. Sayla wondered where she was being taken. The team of kidnappers seemed very small and poorly armed. But they were still enough to snatch you, weren't they? She thought bitterly. This was why Owen was trying to get me off the comm so quickly. He knew the doss was compromised. Drek! I should have called to let him know I was back before I went into his place.
The van came to a stop and the gruff dwarf asked the ork sam "Slitch awake?"
The Ork's nod made Brak smile as he said "Well, keep her covered. I'm gonna call her squeeze."
Over the next five hours the dwarf's frustration continued to mount at his inability to reach the Phys ad. Between calls he contented himself with describing in lurid detail all the things he would do to "Fraggin Owen Fraggin Glendower" when he caught up with him. He also spent some time rubbing his crotch as he looked into the elf woman's gray eyes and offered to free her if she'd "serve" him. For her part Sayla concentrated on her centering exercises to pass the hours.
Eventually the Dwarf got a call through to Glendower. "I got yer bimbo, pal" he said. "You bring back all a my property and I'll trade fer her. But ya gotta come alone."
"I'm not a rigger. I can't drive the Roadmaster." Owen responded.
Growling, Brak said "Awright. You bring along da rigger who took my Baby away. But nobody else, get me? Or yer little keeb will grow a second mouth in her neck" He said as he drew his thumb across his own windpipe."Ya try anything funny and I might just let her....entertain me fer a while. In fact, why dontcha bring about 50K with ya too. Fer carryin charges."
"Where and when?"
"25 minutes. The park where ya left us." Brak replied as he cut communications.
"Unroll her from dat rug, but keep her covered.....and, tie her up wit dese." The dwarf directed as he tossed Tigra some plastic restraints. As soon as she was out of the rug, the Sayla began tossing sleep spells to knock out the Barbarians.
Twenty minutes later when the Roadmaster pulled up and Owen stepped out of the front, Sayla had just finished laying the unconscious bodies on the grass. Before he even acknowledged her, a grimly determined Phys ad went up to the dwarf's body and snapped the unconscious rigger's neck. Taking the corpse's Ruger Super Warhawk, he then emptied the heavy pistol into the dwarf's skull. Dropping the empty pistol he swept Sayla up in his arms and clutching her to him mumbled "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry....oh Sayla"
Feeling his tears on the side of her face Sayla immediately began calming the shaking Phys ad. "It's alright, it's all over......It's ok.....shhh....I'm fine, sugarbear....shhh"
While this tearful reunion went on Doc dropped his invisibility spell on the remaining lost boys and at Hamon's direction they stripped the three surviving Barbarians of everything of value (including shoes). (This second setback of starting from scratch ended the Barbarians existence as a group, prompting Crusher to commit suicide rather than be deckless again, Janet to become a legitimate security guard with Ameritech and Tigra to launch a marginally successful career as a bodyguard.) The lost boys then ushered the lovers into the Roadmaster and drove both it and the Brumby back to neverland.
In the front of the damaged Roadmaster, Mouse said to Itami,
"I don't get it. The boss was in complete control. He single handed took out Brak's team ta save me, he handled the mercenaries without a sweat, he hardly raised his voice when the corps sent the bikers, choppers, an a dragon after us. He laughed at the corporate court and even put them on the defensive when dey was talkin about how they might kill us all for what we did. But if Hamon hadn't come up with the plan he might have just gone off on his own when his lady was threatened and he was, like, cryin when he saw she was ok. How come he can deal wit all a dem threats totally arctic but then fall apart over a woman?"
"Well kid," Itami said "He may have proved that a herd of elephants can't catch clever mice, but love.... hell, love's bigger than elephants."
END TRANS


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