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Crossroads

Page 10

by Stephen Kenson

“We understand the value of your work, Garnoff-san, but we must see progress for the amount of money being put into this venture.” Isogi replied. “Hiramatsu-sama requests you turn your research information thus far over to us for study, so we may determine how we will proceed.” There was a moment of silence before Garnoff spoke again. “It will take some time to gather my notes and present them to you. May I at least have a few more days?” In the pause that followed I could almost hear Isogi mulling over the idea. “Very well. You have a week in which to show progress to us. Otherwise, the oyabun will decide if we can continue to support you.”

  “I assure you, Isogi-san, a week is all I will need to prove the value of my work to you. You will see just how much of an advantage it will bring us all.”

  At the sound of a door opening, I dropped my spell. The noise of the ballroom resumed, and I waited a moment for my senses to reorient themselves before turning toward Trouble.

  “So?” she asked, leaning on my arm.

  “I’ll tell you later.” I said, “but I heard a few interesting things. Now I think it’s time to take a closer look at Garnoff.”

  When Garnoff and the yakuza re-entered the ballroom, they quickly parted company. Garnoff moved along the outside of the ballroom, and I made my way toward him. I focused on my breathing and willed my awareness to expand, to take in the unseen astral plane mundanes were entirely unaware of, but that magicians like me could perceive.

  The music and conversation of the party seemed to fade into the background a bit as the astral opened up to my awareness. I could see the glowing auras surrounding all the guests. They showed their emotions, their feelings, and the power of their individual life force. Dark patches and bands revealed the presence of cyberware, places where living flesh had been replaced with metal and plastic. The astral space in the room was a sea of emotions, mostly greed, self-interest, fear, and pleasure, all mixing in a heady current. The wards, faintly glowing walls that followed the contours of the room’s physical walls, seemed to contain and amplify the energy in the room.

  Garnoff’s aura was smooth and bland, showing only mild interest and simple contentment. There was a distinctive glow of magic to it, showing his magic nature. I was fairly certain he was masking his true aura. The words I heard from the other room suggested that Garnoff was either hiding his true feelings now or he had ice-water for blood. He didn’t bother to hide his magical nature, since so many people here knew he was a mage, but I couldn’t be certain if the power I saw reflected in his aura was any true measure of his ability.

  A shimmering aura around his lapel pin confirmed my suspicions regarding its magical nature. It was clearly some kind of focus, but it lay dormant at the moment, waiting for its owner’s will to bring it to life and draw on its power. I wanted to examine it a bit closer, but something else caught my attention first.

  Above Garnoff’s right shoulder hovered a disembodied eye about the size of a fist. It was a watcher spirit, invisible in the physical world, but present on the astral plane. Before I could do anything to hide my astral presence or slip back into the physical world, it spotted me.

  Garnoff lifted his head like he was listening to a voice I couldn’t hear and then he gave a tight-lipped smile. The pale image of his physical self, as seen from the astral, began to take on more color and substance as his own astral form appeared and looked at me. He studied me for a second or two, and I was fairly sure my own masking held against his scrutiny. He would learn from my aura only what I let him learn. Point one to me. I hoped.

  “Talon, I presume.” Garnoff’s mouth never moved, but his spirit lips shaped the words. Although his voice was low and quiet, the sound carried clearly to me over the faint background noise of the material world.

  “You presume a great deal, Dr. Garnoff.” I responded in kind. I kept my anger and my true feelings from showing in my aura, but the tone of my voice left little mistaking my intent.

  If he noticed, Garnoff didn’t show it. “I hadn't expected to meet you in quite this way.” he said, idly plucking a ripe strawberry from the nearby table and biting into it “I’m sure you didn’t. Exactly how were you planning on meeting me?”

  “Let’s just say under other circumstances, for now.” Garnoff said as he chewed and swallowed. “You’re more resourceful than I thought.”

  “I’m just full of surprises, all right.”

  “Indeed. Your Talent has developed a great deal over the years."

  I was taken aback for a moment. Was Garnoff bluffing? How did he know anything about my magical development? His aura betrayed no hint. It was an impenetrable facade, but my own masking wavered a bit.

  “I’m sure Jason Vale did a good job of showing you the ropes.” Garnoff continued.

  I very nearly surged out of my body to seize his astral form and throttle it. I wanted nothing more than to wipe the arrogant expression from his face and his aura, but I held myself back. It was stupid to go up against an opponent I knew nothing about in a setting like this. Even if I could take Garnoff, which was by no means certain, I’d never get out of the ballroom before Manadyne’s own magical security came down on me like a ton of bricks.

  “I’ll tell you this just once, Garnoff.” I said in a flat and controlled voice. “You made a mistake coming after me, and you made a mistake bringing Jason Vale into this. By my count, you’ve got one more mistake coming to you. Three strikes and you’re out. After that, I’m taking you down.”

  I turned and walked slowly away, allowing my astral awareness to fade. Just as the astral plane slipped from my sight, I could hear Garnoff’s spirit-voice, speaking as if from very far away.

  “Let the game begin.”

  I walked back to Trouble and we found Boom chatting in Japanese with some local Renraku suits eager to build bridges and garner allies after all the trouble their company had been through recently. I snagged Boom’s attention and pulled him aside.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Let’s blow this pop-stand, chummer. We’ve got a shadowrun to plan.”

  10

  I let Trouble arrange the meeting at the Avalon for the following afternoon. We took one of the tables tucked into a corner with a view of the dance floor. The club wasn’t open yet, and the place was quiet. A few employees went about their business, pointedly ignoring our little gathering as Boom, Trouble, and I sat and waited.

  “They’ll be here.” Trouble said. “Don’t worry.”

  I realized I was drumming my fingers on the table and stopped. “I’m not worried. It’s just odd, being on this side of the table.”

  Boom chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it. term. It’s like being a kid playing dress-up sometimes.”

  “Yeah. Makes me wonder what was going on in everyone else’s head during all of those meets I went to as a shadowrunner.”

  Just then, muffled footsteps sounded and I looked up to see two men approaching the table; a burly ork and a tall, well-muscled human with close-cropped blond hair. Both of them walked with the moves I’d come to associate with street samurai: barely restrained energy, ready to burst into action at any moment. Both also wore street clothes and carried no obvious weapons, but I was sure they had them nonetheless, just the same as I did. It was expected.

  “Hoi, Trouble.” the burly ork said with a grim smile and a nod. Then he turned to me. “Mr Johnson.” His voice was low and gravelly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  For a moment, I almost looked around to see who he was walking to. Then I realized it was me. All of a sudden, I was Mr. Johnson, the anonymous face-man hiring shadowrunners. Like playing grown-up, indeed.

  “Likewise, Mr. Hammarand.” I said, returning his slight nod.

  “You can call me Hammer. Everyone else does.”

  “You can call me Talon." I gestured toward the empty seats on the other side of the table. Hammer took one while his companion stood behind his chair like a bodyguard. When the second guy made no move to sit, I figured Hammer was in charge
of the negotiations, just as Trouble had said he would be.

  “Trouble told you about the run?” I asked.

  Hammer glanced over at Trouble. “She told me you could be trusted, which is why I’m here. I’ll be honest. I don’t know you, Talon, but I do know Mr. Pembrenton, and I've known and worked with Trouble for years. I trust both of them not to frag around with me or my team. I just want you to know where I stand.”

  “I appreciate your honesty.” I said. “Let me be equally blunt. I need some runners for a job and I’m willing to pay well for it. But this isn’t a run where the Johnson hires you and you report back when it’s all done. I’ll be going along and you’ll have to work with me directly. I know what I’m doing, and Trouble assures me you and your team are professionals. Can you handle those terms?” Hammer regarded me with his dark eyes, taking my measure. It wasn’t astral perception, but something almost as magical, that sixth sense shadowrunners develop about who is and isn’t worthy of their trust. It’s a necessary survival instinct in the shadows.

  “Okay, Talon.” he said. “We’re in. What’s the job?”

  “A run on Manadyne for information on a research project headed by one Anton Garnoff, along with any useful personnel files and personal data we can turn up. I can handle anything Manadyne’s got in the way of magical security, but I need some backup, logistics, and transportation people. That’s where you come in.”

  “Hmmm.” the big ork rumbled. “Manadyne security isn’t the best, but it’s no cakewalk. They’ve got a contract with Knight Errant.” The Ares subsidiary was one of the best private security providers in the world.

  “The trick is going to be getting access to the databanks.” Trouble said, speaking for the first time. Now that we had an agreement, she became part of the team rather than a go-between for me and Hammer. “Like a lot of corps, Manadyne keeps its sensitive R&D stuff in an isolated system. It’s going to be near-impossible to access from the outside. That means I should probably go in with you.”

  I shook my head. “Not necessarily. We might be able to get the isolated system on-line so you can access it from the Matrix, and we’ll probably need you on the outside taking care of some of the electronics.”

  “It’ll be easier to get at the data from a jackpoint inside their defenses.” Trouble said.

  “Shouldn't make any difference.” I returned. “The ice inside the datastore is going to be the same one way or another, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to shut down the other security systems except from the outside.”

  Trouble opened her mouth to offer another protest when Hammer's deep bass cut through the conversation.

  “I agree with Talon.” he said. “You're going to be the most use to us on the outside, kiddo.”

  Trouble flashed a dangerous glance at Hammer and something passed between them for a second, then she backed down a bit and directed her gaze down at the table. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “We’ve got some intel on the R&D facility.” I said, changing the subject. “It should give us a good idea on how to approach the place.”

  Trouble obliged by rolling out the flatscreen on her cyberdeck and punching up the information she’d acquired. A three-dimensional model of the fenced-in Manadyne research lab appeared on the screen and rotated to show each of the sides. Trouble turned the screen so Hammer could see it.

  “Won’t be easy.” he said. “The fence definitely has monowire strung along the top, and I’ll bet there’s some pretty heavy electronics to go with it.”

  I nodded agreement. “That’s why we need more detailed information on the security setup and the best ways to get around it. I want this run to go down as soon as possible.”

  “I’ve been doing some more checking on Manadyne.” Trouble said. “The weakest point of any security system is always the people running it. I think there may be a way to get the codes we need to get inside, provided”—she gave a wicked grin—“Talon is willing to use his talents to get them.”

  She tapped a couple of keys, and the schematics of the facility vanished, replaced by another file. She turned the roll-out display screen of her cyberdeck toward me so I could read the information on it. I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth as I caught the gist of Trouble’s idea. I glanced up to see her grinning, and Boom giving me a quizzical look.

  “Perfect.” I said.

  * * *

  Saturday night, Arthur Waylan came into the Avalon nightclub as he often did. It was something of which his wife never would have approved, if she’d known about it, that is. It was also something that would look bad to Arthur’s hard-working corporate superiors, should they ever find out. But no one knew about Arthur Way Ian’s secret little habits, except for Trouble, and Boom, and now me. Arthur worked for Manadyne, and he had a fondness for the hottest nightclub in Boston, where he found plenty of boys and girls to his taste there. Once we knew that, the plan was simple.

  Waylan showed up fairly late, just after midnight. He was dressed in the latest street-wear, but he still looked frumpy and corporate compared to most of the clubbers. The Avalon was dark, lit by a complex of flashing strobes in a variety of colors sufficient to send almost anyone into fits. They certainly seemed to have that effect on the people writhing and moving on the dance floor. The colored lights cast beams through a haze of smoke that hung overhead.

  The sound system blasted “Puta” by Maria Mercurial. The music was raw and primal as Maria’s angelic voice sang about dirty people doing dirty things to themselves and each other. The crowd was really getting into it.

  After Waylan made his way into the club and had a chance to adjust his senses to the light, the haze, and the noise, I made sure he saw me. He looked across the dance floor and saw his fantasy come to life. I glanced up and there was a moment when our eyes met and he was mine.

  I was wearing neo-spandex shorts that fit like a second skin and left very little to the imagination, along with a half-shirt, short leather jacket, and a spiked collar (a nice touch, I thought). I was dancing up a storm, too. All other concerns aside, I’ve always loved Maria Mercurial and I was seriously getting into the music even before Waylan decided to finally wander in the door. Once I spotted him, though, play time was over. It was time to get down to business.

  I pointedly ignored him for a few minutes, giving him a chance to wander over to the bar and get himself some courage. I had no lack of willing dance partners, after all, and the music was nova-hot. It would take some time before he was going to make a move, and everything needed to seem as normal as possible.

  After downing his first drink and ordering another, Waylan spent some time at the bar nursing it and staring quite openly at me. I looked back in his direction a couple of times and offered a smile of encouragement, enough to keep him interested and keep him wondering. I danced through a club re-mix of a Speed Coma song, then made my way over to the bar when it ended, my skin gleaming with sweat. I remembered all the nights I used to spend in places like the Avalon and Underworld 93 in Seattle, dancing the night away out of the simple pleasure of having survived another day in the shadows. It had been a long time since I’d done that, but I wasn’t too out of shape, as Waylan’s appreciative leer suggested.

  “What are you having?” he said as I leaned on the bar.

  Already the drink and the atmosphere were making him bolder than he would ever have been outside the club.

  I turned toward him with what I hoped was a devastating smile and said, “Laser beam.”

  He turned toward the elf bartender, nodded and said, “And another one of these.” raising his glass and downing the contents. The bartender started mixing Jim Beam and peppermint schnapps for my drink. It wasn’t my personal favorite, but it was what Waylan expected of me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.” Waylan said, leaning heavily on the bar.

  “Oh, I’ve been here a few times. Maybe you just missed me.”
/>   “I definitely couldn’t have missed someone like you.” I could feel his gaze caress my feminine wiles up and down. “I’m Chance.” I said. “What’s your name?”

  “John.” Waylan said, after a momentary pause. Gods, could he have picked a lamer pseudonym?

  “So what about you?” I asked. “Do you come here a lot?” It was an equally lame gambit, but Waylan didn’t even seem to notice. He was too busy trying not to stare, “Yeah.” he said, “I come by pretty often. I’m a security specialist with Novatech.” It was a lie, but not much of one. Novatech was the biggest and brightest corp in Boston. Obviously, Waylan didn’t want anyone to know who he really worked for and figured he could impress people by pretending it was Novatech.

  I pretended to be dazzled. “Really?” I said, as the bartender delivered my drink. I started to reach into my jacket pocket when Waylan took his credstick from a wrist sheath.

  “Here, let me.” He paid for both drinks, then slid the stick back into its holder with a flourish.

  “Thanks.” I said.

  Waylan raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to a great night.” he said.

  I gave him a big smile and said, “I’ll drink to that.” He had no idea how great a night it was going to be.

  By the time Arthur Waylan invited me back to his hotel room (which he’d booked earlier that evening, according to Trouble) he was seriously buzzed from all the drinks. It occurred to me that the whole plan could come to a very unhappy ending if he simply drove his car into a wall or something, or if we got stopped by a Knight Errant patrol cruiser, but Waylan managed to drive the short distance to the hotel without any problems. Having someone keeping a covert eye on the traffic computers and police bands from the Matrix helped.

  He discreetly guided me into the elevator and upstairs to his room, occasionally glancing around to make sure nobody he knew saw us or was following us. He had to fumble a bit with his credstick to get the door open. He leered suggestively as he slotted the stick into the lock and the green light flashed on.

 

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