Shadowrun: Dark Resonance

by Phaedra Weldon

Blackwater let the troll talk as he scanned the equipment near him. When he got into the doc, the dwarf and some pale chick had actually jacked him into VR using a built-in cyberdeck. Now that he was out, he had no idea where his own tools were. He had no gun, no commlink, and no deck.

  But there were a lot of sharp objects.

  “I wanted to admire you, Cole.” Preacher held up his free hand and snapped his fingers.

  Too late, Blackwater remembered that the mage used this gesture to throw a manabolt. He tried to dodge by jumping to his left, but slammed into an empty autodoc as the bolt struck his thigh, right where that damn technomancer had bit him.

  That leg went out from under him, but he used his hands, arms, and other leg to crawl under the doc and hide behind it.

  “In fact, Mack told me to give you a chance. He said you were good at your job, but you see…I never felt you were truly human. And you weren’t fit to be metahuman…because your soul is polluted.”

  Preacher snapped his fingers again, and another bolt struck the autodoc. It broke into several pieces, and Blackwater had to scramble to get out of the way of falling equipment. He managed to reach a cabinet and pull himself up. There he found a knife, grabbed it, and threw it.

  The thing barely tapped one of Preacher’s horns.

  “And then you killed Maria. She was innocent, Cole.”

  The troll followed Blackwater as he tried to make it to the door. Another finger snap, and something burned the back of his arms, his legs, and his head. He screamed as the fire burned his flesh, down through his muscles and down into his bones. He lay on the floor, inches from the door, writhing in agony as the spell’s acid took its toll.

  Preacher looked down at him and shook his head. “So, it’s only fitting that you should pass from this world in the same way you took her.” He reached inside his robe, retrieved a Manhunter, and aimed it between Blackwater’s eyes.

  “No…” Cole Blackwater begged as he looked down the dark, empty barrel of that gun. “I can make things right—”

  Preacher fired. A hole appeared between Blackwater’s eyes. The last thing he saw was Preacher’s face, and the last thing he heard was the troll’s voice.

  “No. You can’t. But I just did.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Unknown

  Netcat bounded out of the man’s grasp when the world went quiet. She stopped in the center of what had once been the library. Nothing remained. No walls or books or even chairs and tables. It was all gone. All of it. The only thing still standing in this hellish world was the warehouse.

  “Harold?” Netcat called out as she ran, her voice a feline trill as she bounded from rock to rock. She looked everywhere except inside the warehouse.

  But when she didn’t find anything else, or anyone else, Netcat turned to the warehouse. The survivors, maybe twenty in all, stared above the warehouse’s roof at the towering ladder. The stream still spun and swirled like a tornado of light and magic. But now the ladder was much shorter and thicker.

  At the last rung, something glinted at her, and shined in the orange cast sun. It was tall and silver and reminded her of a sword.

  Harold.

  She threw back her head and yelled, a caterwaul cry as she cried for her lost friends, for the essence of what they were, bent into the nightmarish ladder.

 

  She wasn’t sure she was seeing the command line in front of her face. How long it been since she could call upon her AR? Without hesitation, she pressed a paw on the link, and the orange sky, ladder, and warehouse winked out.

  Agonizing pain followed her through that twisted hole until the maelstrom quieted and she heard a familiar voice.

  “Kitty…say something. If you leave me, I swear I’ll raise Jack as a corporate wageslave!”

  She opened her eyes and looked into Slamm-0!’s blue ones. He looked worried, and she saw blood on his forehead. His wires were in and he was jacked, but he was real. She was real. And to prove it, she grabbed his face and pressed a hard and fast kiss against his lips.

  “She’s fine.”

  Netcat looked up into the gentle face of a troll and just past him, another one—only he was wearing a black business suit. “Who…”

  “Long story. Can you walk?” Slamm-0! moved back enough to help her climb out of the autodoc. Standing was fine—moving forward? That might be a little shaky. “I’m starving.”

  “As it should be. Now Slamm-0!, if I may carry out Mack’s orders?” The troll with the robes and symbol-decorated horns moved her boyfriend out of his way and scooped Netcat into his arms. “Please hang on to my neck. I plan on running quite fast.”

  She gaped at him just before she remembered where she’d been. “Kazuma! Where is he?”

  “He’s fine,” the suited troll said. “Your rescuer is Preacher. I am Renault. Slamm-0!, I see a new message on the host PAN. Apparently Powell’s office was shielded.”

  He tapped a few things in his AR and cursed. “Clockwork’s in the hangar. Kitty, go with Preacher. We need to help Silk.”

  Silk? Netcat had a million questions piling up, but the troll did indeed move faster than she expected. The next few minutes were spent hanging on for dear life.

  Chapter Sixty

  Warehouse Hangar

  For most of the battle with Clockwork, Silk had remained inside the Shinobi. Her RCC took several IC hits when Clockwork tried to gain control of it. He’d already destroyed the other vehicles with three drones, evil, spider-looking things she hadn’t noticed crawling all over the Shinobi’s hull until she slammed the door closed on one of them. Unfortunately, the part that got inside was still moving, and managed to stab a knife into her ankle before she smashed it with a fire extinguisher.

  The other two continued to look for ways in as she fortified the Shinobi’s defenses. She did manage to fire at Clockwork twice. But he was fast, and had a lot to hide behind.

  Her original goal had been to get the Shinobi airborne and blow him away with its guns. But after the constant barrage of hits to her RCC, along with the damage inflicted by the drones, this piece of drek wasn’t going anywhere except to a scrap heap.

  “It’s only a matter of time, you know. Before the others find their way in here. That is, if they survive Blackwater and Powell.”

  None of them had answered her since she sent her message, and she wondered if Slamm-0! had lost control of the host, or if Clockwork was jamming her somehow. She didn’t have time to investigate as the onslaught from the drones started again.

  The sound of their metallic legs clanking around her drove her mad. She knew she was trapped, and if she didn’t get out of the falling-apart Shinobi and out of the hangar, this crazy, green-skinned freak was going to kill her. She needed a diversion to draw his attention away from her, but there wasn’t much she could do—

  New gunfire echoed around the Shinobi, and she chanced a peak into the security camera feed on the host. She spotted Renault and Slamm-0! as they stormed into the hangar and engaged Clockwork. This was the diversion she needed!

  Favoring her bleeding ankle, Silk eased herself to the far door. She watched the two remaining drones scurry away from the Shinobi. It looked as if Clockwork wanted their firepower as well.

  After she counted to ten, Silk unlatched the door and slipped out to the cement floor. She went down on her belly and rolled under the Shinobi to get a more accurate assessment of where everyone was.

  The door she and the others had come through was two destroyed vehicles to her right. She saw Renault’s knee and shoes as he knelt behind the first vehicle. A quick scan around and she spotted Slamm-0!’s sneakers farther to the left. A full three-sixty put her face to face with a drone.

  She brought her gun up and fired as it leaped at her.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Warehouse Hangar

  Slamm-0! heard a rapid succession of gunshots toward the back of the hangar, near the large double doors. He had Clockwork tagged on the other s
ide of the Land Rover, and watched as Renault headed toward the rigger on the right. Slamm-0! moved around to the left. They were going to close in around him.

  Until Slamm-0! spotted movement between the Shinobi and the Strike. The drone accelerated into a blur, startled him, and he fired at it a moment before it launched itself at him. He winged it enough that it skittered left, which gave him enough time to fire again. It burst apart this time, and he took off to back up Renault’s assault on Clockwork.

  The hobgoblin was trapped between the two of them, as well as the Land Rover. As Slamm-0! came around the Rover’s back, he spotted Clockwork trying to get into the Rover, but the doors were locked.

  Renault appeared on the opposite side of Clockwork, his gun drawn. “All the drones are destroyed.”

  Clockwork pointed his gun at Slamm-0! “I’m not finished, pretty boy. None of us are ever finished, are we?”

  “Netcat’s safe, asshole.” Slamm-0! kept his gun trained on Clockwork’s head. “Powell’s dead, and so’s Blackwater. There’s no one else here to save your ass.”

  Clockwork’s only response was to laugh. The sound echoed inside the hangar, and Renault started toward the rigger. But the hobgoblin held up something small and round in his other hand.

  “What’s that, another drone?” Slamm-0! said.

  “A drone bomb. Something I’ve been saving. I haven’t tried it out, so I haven’t sold any yet. But if this one gets me what I want, then I’m sure it’ll rake in some serious nuyen.”

  Renault stopped where he was, but kept his gun aimed at Clockwork. “Backup’s been called, Clockwork. I’m not letting you walk out of here.”

  “What if I fly out of here, huh? On an explosion that’ll take out the entire—”

  Clockwork didn’t finish his threat, because he was suddenly yanked down on his ass. Renault and Slamm-0! didn’t hesitate as they rushed him. Renault snatched the small, round object from the hobgoblin’s hand, threw it high into the air, and fired at it. No big explosions, no fireballs. Just a lot of parts raining down on them.

  Meanwhile, Slamm-0! jumped on the hacker and hammered a heavy right cross into the ugly fucker’s face. “That was for trying to sell my girlfriend the first time!” It felt so good, he landed another one as Renault took Clockwork’s weapon. His knuckles burned and he was going to have to a few stitches. “And that was for trying it again.”

  He leaned back as Renault cuffed the hobgoblin and caught his breath. Renault then went down on his hands and looked under the Land Rover. “Slamm…”

  “What?”

  “Give me a hand.”

  Slamm-0! holstered his gun and shifted his gear so he could lay down and look under the Rover—

  He closed his eyes at the sight. “Son of a…”

  “She pulled Clockwork down. She bought us the time to take him.”

  Slamm-0! and Renault gently hauled Silk’s battered body from beneath the Land Rover. She was covered in oil and blood, and her long, dark hair hid what was left of her face. Slamm-0! pulled her to him as Renault dragged Clockwork to the front of the Rover.

  The hacker double-checked her pulse, but found none, and balled his fist against his forehead. He held her gently, brushing her hair back as he heard Renault moving around. The troll came around the other side and knelt beside him.

  “The PCC’s nearly here. You need to take her back. Shayla’s waiting with Preacher and Netcat just outside in the Shinobi.”

  Slamm-0! nodded as Renault took her body and he got to his feet.

  “Looks like she crawled from under the Shinobi to the Land Rover. There’s a blood trail across the concrete. Whatever hit her took out half her face. She didn’t have a way to warn us—so she did what she could. Her death was a noble one.”

  Her death.

  Renault started to the door and Slamm-0! followed, head down as he watched her blood leave small splatters, some of them hitting the troll’s polished shoes. When the hangar opened wind caught them and blew debris into Slamm-0!’s eyes as Preacher approached and took Silk in his arms.

  Netcat was at his side, her green eyes wide and tear-filled. He wiped at his own, convincing himself his own tears were from the propeller wash. He sat on the floor beside Silk, with Netcat in the seat behind him.

  The flight back to Mack’s was a long and quiet one.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  GiTm0

  Welcome back to GiTm0, omae; your last connection was 3 days, 2 hours, 2 minutes, 25 seconds ago

  BOLOs

  Just a reminder—this host’s got less than three hours left before decompiling. Send your sprites out twenty-four hours after that for the new link.

  No new names to report.

  BRAVE BROTHER AND SISTER

  It’s with a heavy heart that we come to you with the unexpected deaths of HipOldGuy and Silk. Silk was one of the few of us who never fully realized her technomancer abilities, but she kept the faith, and protected Soldat and Netcat till the end.

  HipOldGuy was one of our founding members. His death and the subsequent retrieval of his body by the PCC has been a blow to myself and Shyammo.

  We are holding a Matrix memorial for our two comrades. The date, time, and location will be listed here once we have everything nailed down. For right now, please know that all efforts to inform you of the events leading up to Silk’s and HipOldGuy’s deaths have been gathered in a downloadable report. [Link] Those are the facts as we know them.

  This fight with Bellex and Contagion isn’t over. There’s still one more piece to set afire.

  Remember, GOD is always watching.

  GATHERING

  >>>>Open Thread/Subhost221.322.1

  >>>>Thread Access Restrictions:

  >>>>Format:

  >>>>File Attachment:

  >>>>Thread Descriptor: GESTALTS

  >>>>Thread Posted By User: RoxJohn

  > I told you we needed to go back to that game.

  > Venerator

  > That’s not the point of this discussion, Ven. We have to go forward. Netcat’s kept me and Shyammo informed. We need each of you to read those files.

  > RoxJohn

  > Everyone, I’ve reviewed the files and they’re pretty damn accurate. If anyone needs questions answered on how Soldat and I created those sprites, just ask. This is a possible weapon, folks. It’s a start.

  > MoonShine

  > How is Soldat? Is he okay? I mean…he and Silk were together, right?

  > 404Flames

  > They were. He’s doing as well as expected. He’s mourning her as we’re all mourning her, and HipOldGuy. It’s been a rough two days.

  > MoonShine

  > Moon, if I’m reading this right, making a gestalt isn’t any different than writing a program with a partner. Like back in the days of writing and checking each other’s code?

  > LongTong

  > That’s exactly right. Only when we do it, there’s a lot of trust involved. I’ve tried it again with Netcat and our results were a bit different. We did manage to compile a sprite that took out a seriously nasty black hammer IC, but not without some serious fading. But, it’s a start.

  > MoonShine

  > Guys, what we need now is clear communication and a way to organize ourselves. We’ve been talking and I think if we don’t step up for our rights, we’re never going to have any. The reason TechnoHack was created was to show players what it was like to see the Matrix through our eyes. It’s not the original creator’s fault it’s been corrupted. I think their logic is sound.

  > Netcat

  > That’s all great, Net, but the game’s still out there. Luckily the host’s dead, and Bellex has been in the news setting himself up as a possible victim of technomancer attacks. So even if we bring evidence of dissonants or corruption, we’ll still come off looking like revenge-mongers.

  > 404Flames

  > I know, Flames. We’re working on it. One step at a time. Just spread the word
through whatever channels you have that everyone is to stay away from the game. Don’t give that damned AI any more of us. And keep the rumor mill going about their subscriptions and fraud. If we can’t fight them with truth, then we’ll fight them any way we can. Let local law enforcement sniff around at their books, and find out for themselves that Bellex is an AI, and the company runs on the backs of dead men.

  > Netcat

  > It’s good to have you back, Netcat.

  > RoxJohn

  > It’s good to be with Slamm-0! and my family here.

  > Netcat

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  South China Mountain

  Tir Tairngire

  Mack leaned against the terrace frame, a steaming cup of soykaf in one hand, his commlink in the other. The view from this mountain was different than the one he remembered from Shasta. Not better or worse, just different. Different terrain, different area, but all still incredibly beautiful. Living in a place like this could make one forget about the ugly world around them.

  Almost.

  The lodge was still under construction, and he could hear hammering from somewhere, and the grind and grumble of powerful engines as they excavated soil and poured a bigger foundation. Shayla had volunteered to help, offering her services as a rigger to dive in and lose herself in the machine. Mack understood her need to get away from her sorrow. He wasn’t sure if it was Silk’s death, or that coming on the heels of Maria’s that had kept her so quiet in the last twenty-four hours.

  They had barely returned to the club when the shit had hit the fan from a completely different direction. Barely an hour after Preacher and the others had landed and Kazuma was placed in the infirmary with Delaney, a small army of GOD agents had swarmed the club in black wagons and vans. Their own jet-black Shinobi helicopters hovered overhead, and all grid activity, as well as Matrix connections, were severed as Mack and his guests were treated to a warning broadcast over loudspeakers.