Chapter Two
Going Shopping
The Docks
Tacoma, Seattle
April 16, 2059
8:40 pm
"What the hell is that suppose to be?" Smiley bellowed. His hairstyle had changed from the long, brown strands to a short-cropped blonde. He lost just about all of his hair in Redmond a few weeks ago when he was set on fire. Strangely the fact that he was burning did not bother him as much as losing his hair. There had been little scaring from the experience thanks to the help of DocWagon. Smiley now carried a DocWagon Gold contract with him. "A toaster oven?"
The rather eccentric samurai was referring to a briefcase-sized crate. Inside the crate rested a metal suitcase. There was a tag on the outside of the briefcase that marked who it belonged to. On the tag was written the letter "G" and a number next to it. The "G" meant "Gideon" and the number referred to which part of his order the briefcase was.
"Well, Smiley, I can safely say that it is not a toaster." Hector said calmly.
"Better not be." Gideon rumbled. "It'd be an expensive toaster if it was."
The group of runners were sitting in a relatively new warehouse along the southern docks in Tacoma. With them was Hector the Fixer. A few weeks ago the team had decided that they needed some new gear to replace what was lost and new equipment to work with. The group decided that the best way to get it would be all to go in together and place an order with Hector. Hector gave the team a slight discount for the group order, but he warned them that it would be a longer wait. None of the shadowrunners seemed to mind the wait as long as they got what they wanted.
"Incase you don't recognize dis piece of work, Smiley, come have a look." Gideon unfastened the locks of the briefcase and opened it up. The inside was padded and held various parts to a disassembled firearm. The parts were all matte black. There was even a space for a silencer on the briefcase's lid.
Smiley took a peak at it. "Looks like a big gun." Smiley commented.
"It's a SM-3 Ranger Arms sniper rifle." Gideon explained.
Hector nodded. "Complete with internal smartlink and a silencer." He point to another small box that had Gideon's mark on it. "The silencer's over here as well as the ammunition you requested."
"Great." Nightsky muttered as he and Riggs sat on the back of the Bison. "A whole new way to kill someone."
"You don't hear me complaining." Gideon said as he took the parts out and assembled the gun. "Do you?"
Hector's bodyguards watched the ork carefully when he handled the weapon. Hector had hired at least six bodyguards with him to the meet. There were four other guards that watched the merchandise in the warehouse. Apparently Hector had other requests for equipment that he had filled. There was rarely any problems between him and the team that deemed such high security.
"Nightsky." Hector called. "I got what you wanted. You want to have a look at it?"
Nightsky shrugged and got to his feet. "Sure."
"Let's hurry this the fraggin' heck up, okay?" Riggs babbled. "I got work to do today and I don't want to waste my time by ferrying your three around the sprawl."
Gideon picked up the briefcase and headed over to the dwarf. "Time would go by a lot quicker if you would help with the equipment."
"Hey, I loaded my stuff!" Riggs spat. "I think that since I was kind enough to offer you chummers a ride counts as something. Or, to put it on more simpler terms for the dim ones, I don't do grunt work."
Hector directed Nightsky to a set of crates. There were three of them. One of them was already open. Inside it sat a small electronic device no bigger than a pack of cigarettes. Nightsky picked the little thing up and looked it over.
"What got you to worrying about ultrasound?" Hector asked.
"I heard that a lot of corps were using the stuff in their hallways now. Like they switched it all over from the cameras. It makes sense to me because the corps don't have to pay someone to watch the monitors." Nightsky thumbed the device on. A red light on the top glowed signaling that it was active. "Has this got what I wanted on it?"
Hector nodded. "Yes, a detector and emitter all in one. The best that I could find."
Nightsky switch it off and put it back in the box.
"You do know that it won't block an ultrasound sensor. I don't know of anything that'll completely block ultrasound. It will let you move a bit faster. Of course, the slower you move the better it works."
"Yeah, I get the idea. What else have you got?"
Hector undid the padlock on another large crate. Inside was a massive store of ammunition. The bullets were already stored in clips and ready for use. Hector pulled out a set of clips that were marked with Nightsky's name and handed them to the adept.
"That's the clips you wanted for that SMG of yours. Eight clips filled with hard ammo." Hector paused, fumbling around in the crate for something else. "Here's the other four you wanted. Top of the line explosive rounds. You've got the stopping power of a Warhawk with those. Just be careful with them because they don't react well to heat."
Nightsky looked the clips over. He made sure that they were properly loaded and that there was no obvious damage to them. He would empty the clips out later and refill them. That way he knew that what was going into his gun.
"Anything else?" Hector asked.
"The sword."
"Oh, yes." Hector snapped his fingers. He lead Nightsky over to a large cabinet. It was locked with a keypad code that Hector punched in. "I had nearly forgot that you wanted a monosword." He pulled the cabinet doors open, revealing a virtual smorgasbord of swords. "I thought you already used one?"
"I did, but it met with an ill fate." Nightsky replied as he looked over the weapons.
"Well, I'm sure one here could replace it. I'd figure you'd be picky with what you wanted." Hector pointed at the collection. "I had this bunch moving in and I thought I'd give you the pick of them. The rest of them are going to a gang in Fort Lewis. Friend of mine down there put in for them."
Nightsky looked over the swords. There were nearly twenty locked in the cabinet. All of them were monoswords, but their construction style varied. Of the twenty present there were about nine distinct styles among them. Nightsky ran his hand along each one. Some he would dismiss without picking up. He would say that he did not like the shape of the blade or that he did not want the cutlass look. The finger-guards he found particularly annoying. A few that looked better than the others he would pick out and hold. Half of those he decided against. Either they were too heavy or their balance was off.
Riggs peeled the wrapping of a twinkie. "Hurry up." He scorned. "My butt's getting cold waiting for you."
"In a minute, Riggs."
"Minute my stumpy ass. Smiley's got his stuff loaded. I'm ready to go."
Nightsky picked out a sword that was nudged in between the others. It was smaller than the rest and had a slender hilt. The blade was also thin, but it looked like it was reinforced. It felt good in his hands, light and very controllable. He put the blade through a few practiced moves to get a feel for it.
"Any time." Riggs stuffed the rest of the cake into his mouth. "I'm getting hungry."
"Then get a job at Happy Burger." Smiley grinned viciously.
"Go frag yourself Smiley. Going with you guys is like going shopping with my mother. It takes you forever to make a decision." Riggs pulled another twinkie cake out of his coat pocket. As he was peeling the wrapping off he noticed that Nightsky was making his way over. "Oh and have you made up your mind? It sure took you long enough. They all look the same to me anyway. Like big metal toothpicks. Hell, I don't know what you like using them archaic things."
Gideon mumbled something. "Shut-up, Riggs."
"Hell, how can you eat those damn cakes." Smiley said. "You know what they made of."
"Hey, you can't compare a twinkie to one of man's oldest weapons." Riggs held up the cake to Smiley. Then he pointed the cake at Nightsky. "For crying out loud, just buy a new gun for that price. You'll come out-"
Without another word Nightsky made a flurry of a motion. The slender monosword caught the twinkie and severed it into. Creamy filling started to leak onto the dwarf's fingers. Riggs stared at the decapitated twinkie while he tried to count his fingers at the same time. The movement was far to fast for Riggs to comprehend. Nightsky had the physical reflexes that Riggs normally enjoyed when he was jacked in and running his drones.
"Hey Riggs." Nightsky said. "The sword is mightier than the twinkie." Riggs huffed at him as the adept turned back to Hector. "I'll take this one, Hector."
Riggs cursed something and climbed into the driver seat of the Bison. Gideon and Nightsky went to load the last of the equipment in before paying Hector.
Riggs had been doing some modifications on the Bison over the past week. He had taken out nearly all of the regular driver controls. He left auxiliary controls in a break-down setting on Lenny's say so. Lenny was afraid that if Riggs was knocked out no one would be able to drive the Bison. The rest of the driver side had been changed around a lot. Riggs sat in a small seat that was fitted to his dwarfish height. He could barely see out the windows, but he didn't need to. His new seat was hardened to withstand a direct hit. He controlled the vehicle directly through a cybernetic link. He had also replaced all the windows with reinforced ballistic glass. The new windows could be polarized to a point where no one could see in from the outside.
Shard like the new windows because she could caste spells on people outside the van. A magician couldn't caste a spell at them because of the dark tint.
The group loaded up after Hector was paid. Gideon got the shotgun seat while Smiley and Nightsky took the bucket seats behind the driver. Once everyone was aboard Riggs shut the side door and pulled the Bison into the Sprawl.
"Where too now?"
"How about Loveland?" Smiley grinned. "I know a nice little bar down there. The company's crispy too."
"Sounds like a party to me." Riggs said over the van's internal speakers. "They got food?"
"Good chicken wings, but don't go for the house special." Smiley leaned back in his seat. "They treat their beer like a potted plant."
"What do you mean?" Nightsky questioned.
"Watered down." Gideon supplied.
"Is it cheap? If it's cheap it's good and I like cheap." Riggs babbled.
Smiley replied. "Cheap as a two nuyen thrill."
"I'm there." Riggs said. "Gideon, you up for it?"
The ork glanced in the back where they had stored the new equipment. "Not with all of this hardware laying around. Drop it off first."
"No problem."
Nightsky shook his head. "Just take me home."
"Home?" Riggs blurted. "Frag, Mike, I don't feel like driving all the way to Redmond. I hate that place."
"You don't have to. I got a new place."
"New place? So you have been spending your money on something besides guns and knives."
"It makes for a happier person, Riggs. Can't spend everything on new and improved ways to hurt someone."
Shadowland
The Matrix
11:00 pm
<---Enter Access Code: **********--->
..........Please Stand-By.........
<---Access Acknowledged: Welcome Matrix Decker Too......
*--�---- H A C K E R H O U S E ----�--*
The node lite up before Tart's persona. It went from its previously dull, lifeless site for a flower arranging company to a amazingly intricate construct called Hacker House. Tart was able to find the House thanks to her newly acquired access to Shadowland. A smile crossed her lips seeing that Hector had helped her get access to such a wonderful treasure.
In front of her eyes stretched an endless hallway that was dotted with booths and doors. The doors lead to chatting rooms where deckers congregated in fast numbers. The booths confused Tart at first. Then she concluded that the booths were a means of taking a look at the hottest technology on the Matrix.
A small, silver ball materialized in front of Tart. Tart's cyberdeck read the ball as part of an online commcast, sort of a pager for the Matrix. The signal originated within Hacker House. On it appeared a persona's face. It was very detailed and took the shape of a handsome young man. Tart could not help, but to smile.
"Welcome!" The persona said happily. "Looks like your a first time user to Hacker House. I'm Freak, one of the over-glorified sysops of the system." Freak's attention was temporarily diverted as he ran through Tart's access protocols. "Oh, Tart is it? You have very good references. I must say that it is nice to see that you have found your way to our little corner of the Matrix."
"Thanks." Tart tried to push as much friendliness through her persona as she could. She always seemed to fit in better in the Matrix than she did in the physical world. That was what she liked about it.
"I hope I don't have to remind you of the unspoken rules. Don't deck the system, we've got better countermeasures than corporations can get."
Tart tilted her head.
Freak's persona smiled at her. "Namely me, as the all powerful guardian as well as a brigade of deckers at my command. Also, don't give out this or the Shadowland SAN out on the public nodes. We tend to get a bus load of wannabies and kids with their dad's credstick from time to time. They can be real annoying as well as stumble into something they have no business with."
"That's horrible."
"Yes, I know. That's why we change things up every so often to cut down on the illegitimate users that can get access to the House. We do it to keep the kids away and the corps from getting too close."
"I understand."
"So, was there anything specific that you were looking for today or are you just here to take a peak." Freak smiled gingerly again. "We got good programs and some killer personaware that would just fit your deck. Trust me on this one, girl, from the band I'm getting from you that deck of yours can handle it. You sure aren't running a off the shelf Radio Shack special."
"Well." Tart started. She thought back to the trouble she was having with Trace IC. A trace had locked on to her earlier today, but she had pulled the plug before the trace could finish its run. Tart also thought about the trace that had located her. That incident had caused more than its share of problems that she did not want repeated. "I'm in need of some programs."
"Programs!" Freak lit up. "Hacker House is the king of all programs. We've got proggies that will slice through the coldest ICE like a hot knife through warm butter. Access a booth and our online store will show you the best of the shadows."
Tart thanked Freak for his help and entered one of the empty booths. She immediately realized the size of Hacker House's datastore. Giga-Pulses of programs were stored here. There were far too many programs to count. A display at the booth showed more than ninety thousand programs available for purchase. Hacker House was a complete online store. Any type of gear needed for decking could be purchased here. Anything from cyberdeck parts to programs. There were also various ways of delivery. Any of the programs could be purchased and downloaded at any time of the day. Parts were personally delivered to either a mail box or a buyer's front door step.
"See anything you like?" An online host called.
Tart recognized the host as an online browser designed to aid the user in finding what they wanted. It was probably linked with a monitoring node where either a smartframe or a House Sysop watched over everything.
"Access programs, please." She instructed the computer.
Almost instantly a large database was opened before her. It stretched endlessly in her view with every program imaginable from the simplest to the deadliest.
"The Cream of the Crop is the best Hacker House has got."
The system opened up a few for Tart too see. It showed some of the best programs the House had. Various programs were displayed as well as a list of their stats. Tart found that many of the prices ranged from a minimum of twenty-thousand to nearly a million nuyen.
"The best program available to beat a trace." Trat instructed the search.
The Hacker House displayed a list of programs. They included a good dozen Attack programs with various ratings and prices. Tart didn't need a new Attack program, so she bypassed most of those. A list of Relocate programs popped up next. Tart found these interesting and looked through them. Most of these were inexpensive compared to other programs. She ran across a few interesting candidates, but she disliked the "style" they had. Finally she found one that she liked after convincing herself that she could do some modification to it. The program carried a rating of six and was called the "Lost Board" relocate utility.
"Thank you for your selection. You will now be connected with a secure code."
The space around Tart closed in to seal her off from the rest of Hacker House. An uplink appeared before her.
"You have chosen the Lost Board Relocate Program."
"This program carries an operation rating of six."
"It is 98 Mp in size."
"Would you like to continue your purchase?"
Tart urged the process along. A second window was displayed before her.
"Please specify reception mode: delivery or download?"
"Download."
"Transfer funds and download will commence."
Back in the meat world Tart opened her eyes. She experienced a disorientating double vision while half of her was still connected to the Matrix and the other half was fumbling for her credstick. The program was sent to her the second she sent over the money. As soon as the transfer was made Hacker House returned Tart's access to the main node. She was once again in the hallway with the booths and doors.
"Hope you had fun in there." A chilling voice called to her.
Tart spun her persona around to face a very unusual icon. The persona before her took the space of an obscene clown. It had a bright red nose, red hair, floppy shoes, and a large smile. Yet something about the clown looked sinister.
"Who are you?" Tart questioned.
"Who, me?" The clown patted its big stomach with gloved hands. "I'm the Killer Klown."
Tart almost snickered at the name, but to do so would an insult to the decker. "Killer Klown?"
"Or KK for short if you think saying the name will take up too much of your bandwith." Klown said. He gave Tart a backhanded insult by commenting on her band.
"What do you want?"
"You mean you don't remember me? Shame on you." The Klown said. "We've met before."
"We have?"
"Oh, well not really met." Killer Klown started to pace around her. "More like I saw you from a distance."
"Where?"
Killer Klown giggled. "Why at Shiawase."
Tart's insides clenched up. Klown must have been that decker she got a reading on before leaving the Shiawase's Boston office.
"It was funny how you sneaked all the way in only to meet up with the ICE in such a nasty way. Get fried good did you?" Killer Klown pulled out an oversized pair of glasses from inside his clown suit.
"I made it out."
"Ah, that you did, but you overlooked one little thing." Killer put the glasses on and walked around Tart like some professor. A small pipe appeared in his hands. It puffed bubbles whenever KK blew on it.
"What's that?"
"Well, it's just one little thing." Killer Klown suddenly spun into Tart's face. The glasses disappeared into the Matrix structure like a stray thought. Klown's head quickly grew to immense proportions with ugly teeth sprouting from the mouth and a screeching voice to accompany it. "BECAUSE THAT IS MY TURF OF THE MATRIX! KK'S TURF! YOU ARE MESSING WITH THE KILLER KLOWN!" The icon spat in Tart's face. "STAY OUT OF MY TURF, HALFSCAN, OR I WILL SLICE YOUR CODE LIKE A CORPORATE MAILBOX!"
The sudden transformation startled Tart. Killer Klown did not give her much time to react. As soon as he delivered his message, his icon vanished from the Matrix. He had jacked out.
Tart thought about what the Klown had said, but she dismissed it. What ever the clown was mad about was a petty thing. In the Matrix, it was nothing that she could not handle.
She had other things to do. It was late and she needed to get to bed. In the morning she planned on visiting Shard at the hospital. In the afternoon she had something even more important to see about. That involved her mother that she ran away from months ago.
Like this chapter? Then go on to the NEXT CHAPTER. Had enough of this story? Try going back to the Fiction Index and find something else. Thoughts, rants, comments? Email me and tell what you thought about it.