Shadowrun: Dark Resonance
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SHADOWRUN: DARK RESONANCE
By Phaedra Weldon
Dedication
I want to thank all the wonderful people at Catalyst Game Labs for their hard work and dedication to the game. Without them and the players, we wouldn’t have our Sixth World. I’d also like to thank my closest friends who’ve heard about this book for five years (I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces!).
But most of all, I want to give a full-hearted thank you to the ones that never gave up on it and never let it go. To John Helfers, Jason Hardy, and Loren Coleman.
Prologue
Justin Stonewater crouched in the shallow shelter made by the ruined wall, a remnant of a brick and mortar building. Others huddled close to him in an attempt to share their pain, their fear, their isolation.
He knew the sensations enveloping him—pain, cold, exhaustion, hunger—weren’t real; they couldn’t be. That’s what his subconscious insisted, day after day…because there was no night here. No reprieve from the endless sun above them. No relief from the harsh, unceasing wind. No rescue from the twisting, iridescent band that stretched from one end of the sky to the other. Something he had once believed would bring him out of this nightmare.
Now it just twinkled and laughed at him. At all of them.
No one knew where they were or how they got there. Only that the world was a scorched wasteland. His stomach yearned for food, but there wasn’t any. No food. No water.
But no death.
In the dim light, he stared dully at the half-formed avatars around him. Some still looked human, or at least closer to their living personas. But those were the newer arrivals. The ones that had arrived with hope in their eyes who-knew-how-long ago were now hunched into fetal positions, scattered around the hull of what could have been a brick building.
Justin held up his skeletal hand. It no longer possessed muscles or veins. No bloodied nails to bite or fingertips to scrape against the sharp rock walls that kept them in their pen. His other hand was only half-deteriorated, as were his feet and part of his torso.
He knew what his eventual fate was. He’d seen a dozen of his comrades turn to dust as their life gave out. More and more vanished into the sands each time after the Old Man came and blocked out the sun. The routine was the same. To exist in this hell until He called for them.
And then the pain began. Wrenching, tearing, knotting pain as it twisted his soul into blackness. It was the only relief any of them knew any more. That dark, dark, cavernous nothing.
But each time, he woke afterward to the endless hell still around him—just with more pieces of his flesh removed. One day, he wouldn’t wake up at all.
Justin looked up at the twisting pool of energy he wasn’t allowed to touch. Just like he and the others weren’t allowed to go near the only other building in their pen. It was a large metal building, seemingly untouched by the scorching sun and heat. Light pulsed from its roof as the Old Man’s ladder wound its way upward. From where he sat Justin thought it looked as if the ladder had almost reached it. And if he could climb the ladder…he could touch it!
Rising on stick legs and bony feet, he stumbled over the half-corroded group toward the warehouse. His thinking was that the Old Man wasn’t around…in fact, he hadn’t shown himself in…well, a long time now. Justin knew if he could just touch that energy—it had a name, one that danced at the edge of his memory, but he couldn’t remember it any more. All he knew was that if he touched it, he could finally go home.
Home that felt like a long-lost dream. A life in…somewhere else…with…his family? His…wife and…son…?
The warehouse loomed over him as others reached out to stop him, whispering on the constant wind. “Don’t go! You can’t go in there! If you go in there, you’ll die!”
And what was this? Life?
Justin wrenched at the building’s double door. Its metal surface was cool against his skin, almost comforting, and he felt a vibration. A stirring he hadn’t felt since waking up in this nightmare.
He pressed on the doors. One of them gave a little. He pressed harder as others followed him when they saw he wasn’t destroyed. Some argued against opening the doors, while others tried to help him. Eventually, the door was wrested all the way open, but Justin was the only one willing to step into the darkness inside.
The cool temperature soothed his aching body and chilled the sweat on his brow. He took a few more steps inside, and the door closed behind him. Silence. He couldn’t see anything for a few seconds, until his eyes adjusted. A light up ahead grew brighter, and he trudged toward it.
Thunder rolled outside, and the cool, smooth floor shook as he got closer to that light. Is that it? Is that…the base of the ladder? It had to be. The closer he got, the more detail he could make out.
Yes! It was the ladder! Only—
This time the thunder shook the building to its very foundation as Justin slowed his pace. What he saw couldn’t be possible. Yes it was a ladder…a wide, heavy ladder that reached up through a hole in the ceiling.
“YOU DARE DEFY ME!” a voice boomed, so loud that it shattered the warehouse walls.
The ceaseless wind howled into a gale around Justin as he ducked down, slamming his skinless hand against the hard floor. Without the walls, he could see the rest of the pen now, scattering before the Old Man in a futile attempt to escape the inescapable.
A black tornado swept up everyone inside of it, including him as he tried to run. He crashed into flying debris, possibly the rest of the ruins. Rocks, bricks, and thin pieces of the warehouse walls and roof hurtled at him. He screamed as he was struck repeatedly, and saw others flailing in the gusting storm beside him.
He lost his legs first, neatly severed by a warehouse wall that blurred by. Next, flying rocks tore his hands off his helpless limbs. A brick smashed into his face, crushing bone and muscle as he caromed out of the tornado and into the void, where the pen no longer existed.
There he fell in a silent scream until everything stopped.
Forever.
Chapter One
4 months ago
Kazuma Tetsu gasped when the host around him revealed a ravaged world.
At first, he wasn’t sure he was in the right place—it looked like a battlefield. There were no trees or grass under a hazy sky of gold and dark smoke. Jagged, silver tiers of once familiar buildings rose up like broken bones sticking up through charred, blackened skin.
“Wow, chummer…nice pajamas.”
He turned to see a standard, out-of-the-box avatar of a man with dark hair, squared jaw, scruffy chin, and long, dark coat. Yep, generic P.I. from a gaming box.
Kazuma smiled. “Dirk. Nice Dick Tracy motif.” He stepped over a puddle of oily water to take the man’s offered hand. “Interesting choice. This an art piece?”
Dirk shook his head. “Not really. This is a replica made from another host—one a bunch of technomancers nearly died in. They created this to show what almost killed them. But it’s just a representation. If you were really on the host right now, you’d become deathly ill.”
“Sick from a host?”
“A host totally corrupted, omae. I wanted to meet you here so you could see what’s creeping along the periphery of your realms. Take a good look at this, Kaz, and don’t ever get caught in it. The artists for this call it dark resonance. And that description isn’t far off. Memorize, and know it’s real.” He stepped closer. “Your sister’s missing again.”
“Yes, I know,” Kazuma answered, but he kept looking around. “But I don’t think she’s submerging this time. I think she’s in trouble.”
“I think you’re right.” Dirk reached out and put his hand on Kazuma’s arm. “There’s not a lot more I can d
o for you. You’re going to have to look for her on your own. But there are a few things I can advise you to do, and you should get quicker results.”
He had Kazuma’s full attention.
“Even after you let me know that Hitori had showed up a few weeks after the fun at Cup O’ Sin, I kept doing research because a name kept coming up. Caliban.”
“You mean like The Tempest?”
“Yeah. Like that. Do two things.” He moved in close, so Kazuma could see every painted cell of the comic book icon. “I need you to change your online handle from Dancer to Soldat. Got that, omae?”
“Soldat?”
“It means soldier.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“It’s better than Dancer. That’s a drek name. Then I want you to refine your searches to include the name Caliban. Just keep Hitori’s name and add Caliban. Got it?”
“Yeah…”
“Good.” Dirk stood back. “That’s good. Do those two things and you should be reunited with her soon. Or if not, you’ll definitely attract some interesting company.”
Chapter Two
GiTm0
Welcome back to GiTm0, omae; your last connection was 13 hours, 9 minutes, 22 seconds ago.
BOLOs
Just a reminder—this board’s got less than six hours before it terminates in your comms. Send your sprites out twenty-four hours after that for the new link.
New shadowrunner handles to look out for: Mangle, Blackwater, blessie89, and DongleSave. Full list available [Link][Guest], but don’t read the list online. And don’t forget, these runners are out for the nuyen, and they don’t give a damn about us.
Remember, GOD is always watching.
NeW oNLiNE
* Twenty more known technomancers vanish from Novatech Arcology. No trace. Families won’t even acknowledge they’re missing. [Link]
* Saw in an early morning feed that Contagion Games’ latest MMORPG, TechnoHack, crashed another host early this morning, toppling several regions of play and causing a semi-brownout with a Matrix gateway near Seattle. CEO Ferdinand Bellex held a press conference apologizing for the downtime, and promptly blamed the failure on the resurgence of decking units not syncing with the hosts. He also made a few odd comments about technomancers attacking their mainframe, and is in negotiations with Knight Errant for tighter security to prevent this type of breach again. Bellex also announced a new UV host opening within the week that should relieve traffic to their home host and prevent any more grid inconveniences once Knight Errant’s got their systems firmly in place. Anyone in here played this game? We need reasons why Bellex even brought us up. [Link][Review Posts]
* A breach in security at an Ares facility in Lower Los Angeles has the Pueblo CC buzzing around with hi-tech might—though the local corps spokesperson insists nothing was stolen or tampered with. This is the fifth in a series of random glitches plaguing the company two days after an employee in the personnel department was fired. Coincidence? [Link]
* In a similar thread, Cup O’ Sin coffee house—whose name was in the news cycles a few years ago when it was attacked by hackers—is back in the news. One day after the firing of the above-mentioned Ares employee, the shop experienced the same glitches with the establishment’s PAN. When an espresso machine exploded in an employee’s face, she blamed it on one of the shop’s regular customers—that customer was identified as the same employee fired from Ares the day before. When no commlink was found on him, the man was beaten to death. During his autopsy, they found an internal comm. Things are not happy out there for us, people. Always have a commlink or decking unit visible. If you got jacks, use ’em for show.
EYES OPEN
>>>>Open Thread/Subhost221.322.1
>>>>Thread Access Restrictions:
>>>>Format:
>>>>File Attachment:
>>>>Thread Descriptor: Denial
>>>>Thread Posted By User: Shyammo
> Hey Shyammo! Thanks for finding that article on the missing Novatech employees. I noticed there hasn’t been any comment at all except a blip on a late night vid-squawk. In fact, when I saw the story carried only once, and then it wasn’t carried over to the other networks—I started to wonder if I’d seen it at all.
> 404Flames
> Not sure they were all employees. Read the article. Says most were employees, and the others were just members of employee families. What kind of harsh piece of drek do you have to be to deny your family member is missing?
> MoonShine
> We need to look deeper into joint ventures. Corporations working in tandem on projects involving technomancers. Look for tags like electronic magic, hacking research, dark waters or caliban.
> Soldat
> Hey Sol, where you been? It’s been ages since you posted.
> HipOldGuy
> Did that bit of intel you were checking help, Soldat? Did you find her?
> 404Flames
> I didn’t find her, but I found something that might help. Which is why I’m throwing the suggestion on those tags out there. We need to watch for the corps working together. Possibly forming hush-hush covenants when it comes to technomancers.
> Soldat
> What did you find, Soldat? You sound like you saw or read something.
> Netcat
> I’ll get on that, Sol. I’ve already started looking into Contagion Games and their issues. I wasn’t happy old Bellex felt the need to bring us into his problems. If the guy’s team can’t build a decent game, take responsibility. Don’t go slinging mud. I’ll see if anything pops up.
> HipOldGuy
> I don’t want to say yet, Netcat. I’ve got Silk working on a few things. I’ll post when there’s more. It’s just that…have any of you felt something weird? And I mean weird while in AR or the streams?
> Soldat
> Thanks ahead of time on that, Hip. I always like to make sure you guys know how much you’re appreciated out there. I was happy I didn’t have to report any of us missing this week. Last week’s number took a toll.
> RoxJohn
> Hey Hip, been doing a little grade work for Contagion. I’ll check out the game. Been a little curious myself. Might be a little more nuyen to be made if they keep breaking the Matrix like that.
> Venerator
> Sol, what do you mean weird? I’m asking because last time I submerged, I did run across something. It wasn’t in the streams, but it was there waiting when I left. And I had the feeling I was being watched.
> Netcat
> Yeah…Ten gone in a matter of a week. Rox, did you find out anything more about their disappearance? Like did they all work for a corp, or were they even connected?
> EasterBunnyun
> That’s close to what I felt, Netcat. Almost like something’s on the edge in there, on the outside looking in. I’ll make sure to get back when I know more.
> Soldat
> You know I can’t give out that information on the board, Easter. But if you click this [Link] I can give it to you.
> RoxJohn
Chapter Three
Horizon Archive Annex
Los Angeles
Retired DS Host
Thursday evening
Kazuma Tetsu’s living persona, a red-headed, black-clad ninja, stood within the drab, gray-walled virtual reality of the Horizon host, sword held in front of him. An antique desk with a worn, leather briefcase visible in the open lower drawer stood between him and his opponent. He raised his weapon as the blade reflected his opponent’s icon.
The icon, a simple, snarling, drooling white wolf, looked like one of those out-of-the-box personas Kazuma had seen with the resurgence of decking units.
He didn’t have time to linger and fight the persona of whoever this was. He needed to do a bit of technomancer hand-waving. A diversion—something with enough power and strength behind it to distract and detain this bastard long enough for him to grab the information and get
out.
The use of his skin-linking echo was draining, but not enough to alarm him just yet. Kazuma hadn’t planned on compiling, given that it would require a bit more of his stamina than he could afford. If he hadn’t physically been next to the host and accessed it remotely, perhaps a fight would be justified. But not right now.
He moved his sword up and around and slowly re-sheathed it on his back. The white wolf roared and drooled as it showed its teeth and pushed its back end up as its front went down. Drek—it was going to attack within seconds. Have to be a fast compile…
With his hands now free, Kazuma held them out from his sides, palms up, and opened his senses to the whisper and buzz of the Matrix around him. The space between them abruptly swirled with wisps of incandescent smoke filled with 1s and 0s of data. With his arms held out, he inhaled and drew those wisps to him, bringing his imagination to bear and thoughts into sharp focus as he spoke to the datasphere, gave it purpose, and asked it to stand in the enemy’s way.
The Matrix answered him with action as the wisps formed ribbons of colors that spun and danced before him. The 1s and 0s wrote themselves into existence as he called forth its form…that of a Bengal tiger. Twice the size of the wolf-hacker and for a brief time, far more clever. Kazuma liked to give his sprites the freedom of imagination. This decker might think he knew what he was up against, but he would be wrong.
Feeling the drain impact his physical body, Kazuma took a step back as his newly compiled Paladin Sprite roared in the face of the white wolf.
The white wolf answered with an attack. It vaulted upward, claws extended as the user’s voice came through: “I’m gonna take you down!”
Kazuma’s Paladin sprang forward and intercepted the wolf. Both beasts crashed into a side wall, then the tiger burst into a cloud of small, iridescent, yet iron-clad butterflies that flew into the wolf’s face, knocking chunks off it.