Chapter Eighteen
What's Behind the Curtain
Meredith Neighborhood
Renton, Seattle UCAS
November 5, 2059
3:05 pm
Lenny took a long drag from his cigarette. The rancid smoke seems to be the only thing to settle his nerves while his mind is full of conflicting thoughts. He and Shard had hooked up with the rest of the team a little over an hour ago. He had been surprised to learn that Findler was passing information to Lone Star. It unnerved him that the ork could have gotten so close. They might never have known if he hadn't come to the party last night.
The knowledge caused distrust to settle over him. He would have to watch himself more closely now. He would put total trust in the people he worked with. For the time being that didn't include Hector. The fixer was holding something back. Lenny wanted to know what. The only thing he had to go on was the rigger, Austin, and the magical artifact Haiku had been sent after in the first place.
Austin was dead. Apparently by his own hand. So much for that lead.
That left the artifact. The Orb of Voices, Haiku had called it.
Lenny didn't know anything about it. He had to point out some feelers. Tart was diving into the Matrix now in hopes of finding some reference to it. Shard was visiting with some old company friends who worked in archeological departments. Lenny wasn't doing anything. Most of his sources had links with Hector. For the moment, he didn't want to fixer to catch wind of his snooping.
"So," Riggs scooted a chair up to table and dragged his stumpy frame onto it. "We've been doing Hector's dirty work, huh, bossman?"
Lenny flicked his ashes on the table top.
"Heccy sends you and Shard off to Azzieland and sics the rest of us on Findler's hoop." Riggs said. "Sounds like drek to me. I mean sure, Findler had it coming. We had to handle that, sure, but this drek in Azzieland? What the frag is up with that?"
"I don't know, Riggs."
"Sounds to me like Heccy's been pulling at your heartstrings?"
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't you say that Heccy send you down there to check on Haiku? I know you and her were close last year. I'll bet my left nut Heccy knows it too."
"He did."
"So he knew you'd say yes."
"Maybe you're right, Riggs."
"Riggs? Right? What have you been slotting lately?" Gideon grumbled as he pulled a chair up to the rickety old table.
"Gid, nice of you to join us." Lenny said through the haze of cigarette fumes. "Been a while. I was surprised to see you at the party last night."
Gideon settled into his seat and plucked a cigarette from the crumpled pack on the table. "What's on yer' mind?"
"I was thinking about Austin."
"Whozthat?"
"The rigger that double-crossed Haiku's team."
"You said he was dead." Gideon lit the cigarette.
"Yeah, bossman. He's a dead fragger. Drown in his own tub. What a way to go."
Lenny watched his ashes burn. "He had a credstick with a six figure balance. Someone really wanted that artifact."
Gideon growled."That's a lot of 'yen. Wonder what happened to it?"
"Johnson."
"Say what?"
"Mr. Johnson." Lenny repeated. "Someone had to fund that shadowrun. Haiku didn't do it for nothing. I wonder who her Johnson was."
"That rigger probably turned the artifact over to him."
Riggs kicked idly at the table. "Bossman? I got put something out. I don't feel too good about going behind Heccy's back on this one. He's our fixer. Why should we be so shady about this drek?"
"We're not going behind his back, Riggs, so give it a rest. We are picking up on some thing that he has neglected to tell us. Wouldn't you rather know everything than only part of something?"
"Hey, bossman, I don't know. The more you know the more people will want to come after you."
"What did you do with the nuyen you found in Austin's room?" Gideon asked, changing the subject money wasn't unusual for him. The ork was a mercenary through and through. In the past he had made it abundantly clear that he was in this line of work for the money.
"I sent it to Haiku so she can get back on her feet."
Gideon grumbled something The ork's scarred, wrinkled face moved through a series of contortions. "Sounds like something you'd do."
"Come on, Gid. Are you still upset with the Abigail incident?"
"Nothing to be upset over. It's done and gone now."
"I'm glad you see it that way."
"This is one thing I don't like."
"What's that?"
"Findler and Haiku? That was dirty work. I don't like doing Hector's dirty work for nothing."
"Not this again." Riggs groaned and hopped of his chair. "I need a drink. Something with hair on it."
Nightsky stuck his head through the doorway as Riggs waddled past. The dwarf was on his way to the kitchen. One thing Lenny liked about this safehouse was its size. It had been a delivery service up until 2050. It was a big building with a dozen offices, showers, a kitchen, and a couple large conference rooms. Half of the offices had been converted to sleeping quarters. A few had telecom jacks for Tart to access the Matrix. One was Shard's exclusive territory. It was poorly lit and smelled of incense. Unlike most of the team's safehouses, no one had to stare out a window here. The whole building had been wired with closed-circuit microcameras.
"I'll catch up with everyone later, Lenny." Nightsky said, exchanging glances with Gideon.
"Where are you off to?"
"Home."
"If we turn up anything we'll call you." Lenny waved him off. Nightsky left without another word.
Gideon stamped out his cigarette. "There goes someone who has a lot on his mind."
"Who? Nightsky?"
Gideon grunted.
Lenny shook his head. "No different than he normal is?"
"You sure 'bout that? I'm thinking he's been acting a little different than usual."
"But, my old friend, you haven't been around in a while. People change."
Gideon grunted wordlessly again. "I still think you should keep an eye on him."
"He's a solid runner. Doesn't do anything to jeopardize the run. At least nothing major. He's no Smiley."
"Not yet."
Lenny paused, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "What are saying, Gideon?"
He stood. "I'm saying you should keep an eye on him. That's all."
The ork walked out of the room. On his way he casually bumped into Tart. Though it wasn't intentional, his seer size nearly knocked her off her feet. Gideon, being his typical self, didn't offer an apology. Just a harsh grunt and a gruff shrug. Probably his way of telling her to watch where she's going next time.
"What's biting that guy?"
"Don't mind him. He's just being Gideon." Lenny reassured her. "Did you come up with anything?"
Tart leaned against the table. "No."
"Nothing?"
"I couldn't find a mention of an orb of voices anywhere on the 'trix. Not in the context you were wondering about anyway. The only thing I came up with was a band in California and a dance club in Boston."
He slowly nodded. "Thanks for trying anyway."
"It was no problem." Tart said, idly pushing the table leg with her foot. "Is that all you needed? Because if you don't need me anymore I was going to go home for a bath and change of clothes."
Lenny stared at the cigarette. Then he motioned her away. A grin crept across her feature and she was out the door. He couldn't help, but to smile. The eagerness of youth, he thought to himself. Was he ever that young and full of anticipation? Perhaps he was years ago before he buried himself in the shadows. Going into the shadows meant casting off any chance at a normal life. Tart would see that soon enough, but she could still play in the twilight for now. Lenny hoped she enjoyed it while she could. This would be the simplest time in her life. It only got harder from here.
"You look tired."
Lenny glanced at the doorway. Shard was standing there. The elfin mage was wearing white leather pants, a fuzzy halter top, and a long coat that twinkled with jewels and fetishes. She seemed perky and alert, but Lenny noticed the dark bags under her eyes. The darkness was obscured by makeup.
"You're no bed of roses, either."
"Why thank you for noticing, good sir." Shard pulled out a seat across from him. "I had a late lunch with some old friends. They said they will get back to me if they come across anything. One wants a spell formula in return."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, it's a simple spell. I will trade it." Shard answered, taking notice of Lenny's drooping shoulders. If cybereyes could express emotion, they would be espressing exhaustion right now. "You should get some sleep."
"I know."
"Then why are you still here? Go to bed for spirit's sake." Shard urged. "There's nothing happening here that the others can't handle."
Lenny nodded, that much was true. Riggs was plugged into the safehouse's security system. Gideon was reacquainting himself with his old gear. Smiley was watching Sesame street. There was really no reason why Lenny shouldn't waste his time with sleep. He wondered if his restless mind would even let him.
He huffed and cursed to himself. Might as well try. "You're right, Shard."
He left the table and headed for his room. He hadn't got much sleep on the flight from Azltan. A few hours would do him good. Shard knew that he had a habit of pushing himself beyond his limits. Often he relied on stimpills and patches to keep going. At times she was suspected he was addicted. She was glad to see him taking some personal time.
In speaking of personal time, Shard headed for her own corner of the safehouse. Up the stairs and down the hallway she went. There were five offices up here. The first had been rigged with a closed-circuit security system. The second had a telecom outlet and was crammed with Tart's gear. Printer, scanner, piles of printouts, and a directory of public datastores lay scattered across the floor. Lenny occupied the next one by himself. Smiley and Riggs shared the next. Nightsky and Tart shared the one after that. Shard's was at the end of the hall.
Something caught her eye as she passed Nightsky's and Tart's room. It was the adept's katana which lay propped against the corner. It was a katana. Shard remembered how it odd it was when she saw him with it. He had seemed to prefer more modern weapons, preferably built by Ares with a monofilament edge or gleaming with a dikoted finish.
By looking on the astral plane she could see why the adept preferred this weapon. On the astral the sword glowed with magical energy. Not only that from great age, but from bonded mana that linked it directly with the skill and magic of the adept. It was a weapon focus. Shard had seen weapon foci before. This one was very strong. She wondered where Nightsky could have gotten it.
There was something about this one, though. There was a hint of something through the brilliant glow of mana surrounding the sword's astral presence. For a moment she thought she saw a deep, dark stain on the inner blade. Like something vile and diseased had touched it. Then it was gone, buried beneath the bonded mana of the sword. Shard recoiled for a moment as her sight shifted off the astral plane. The sight left a dull taste at the back of her throat. Suddenly she found herself wondering where Nightsky had gotten this thing. More importantly, she wondered what could have left a mark like that on its astral signature.
"Shard?"
The harsh voice startled her. "Yes, Gideon? What can I do for you?"
The grizzled ork leaned against the wall for a moment. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts. "I wanted your help."
"Wanted?"
"Well, want." He corrected himself. "I need your words."
"What about?"
"No, I don't need your words. I want you to use your words with Nightsky."
"Nightsky? Why?"
"I think he's about to do off the deep end. If he's not already there."
Shard regarded him cautiously for a moment. "He's been on edge lately, but I'm not sure I'm following what you."
"I didn't think you would." Gideon grunted. "So I'm going to tell ya's a story. Got a few minutes? It's a bit long."
"I have the time."
"Good, cause it begins with this last summer."
Downtown, Seattle
3:37 pm
"Mr. Soyuze?"
Sergi looked over his newsfax. The acrid smoke of a Cuban cigar floats like a mist over his desk. Quiten, his butler and bodyguard, is standing at the Study's door. "Yes?"
"There's a woman here to see you."
"Her name?"
"She would not tell me."
He flicked the newsfax. "Then she must not be important enough to talk to. Send her away."
"She said she needs to speak with you about an artifact. An Orb."
Sergi dropped the newsfax. How could anyone know about the Orb? "Who is she?"
"I don't know, sir."
He frowned, something did not smell right. This was a mystery. Sergi hated mysteries. "Send her in, but stay close."
Quiten bowed briefly. In a few moments he lead a small, gaunt woman into the Study. She was so thin as to be a corpse. Her hair was twisted and coarse like an old woman's. The clothes she were wore worn and weathered with time. Her fingers were crooked and eaten up with wrinkles. Fingernails yellow and jagged with age. The old crone looked at him with eyes squinted from countless days in the sun.
"Is there something I can help you with, ma'am?"
"Yes."
Sergi remained quiet until it was apparent that the old woman wouldn't be elaborating any more than that without prompting. "What with?"
"You are Sergi Soyuze?"
"Correct."
"You have recently obtained an artifact from Central America. You must not keep it."
Sergi laughed. "And old woman is going to tell me that I can't keep a statue on my mantel? I have the right to do whatever I want with it for the price I paid. I happen to know that a few people in the antiquities world who would love to get their hands on it. I'm sure I can negotiate a profit."
"The Orb of Voices is not a decoration!" The crone snapped. The harshness of her tone was something he didn't expect. It made him jump. "It is not a keepsake to be displayed at private parties. It's history is too sinister for that. The flow of magic is still to weak for it to be allowed in this world. It must be returned."
"Ma'am, I think you are out of place here. You are a guest in my house. You don't have any right to dictate what I should do with my possessions."
"You do not know what you have obtained!" The crone continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "You do not know what it is capable of."
"What are you talking about?"
A wrinkled smile wormed its way across the old crone's lips. "You have yet to touch the Orb, have you? Then it's pointless to convince you the danger of your ways." She turned for the door. "I will come back after you have decided to rid yourself of it."
The old woman left without another word. Sergi huffed. What a crazy old hag. Half of her words were a garble of nonsense and the other half were veiled in half-realized threats. Yessir, a true nutcase that only the Seattle Sprawl could produce.
Though her words that stimulate Sergi's curiosity. Wordlessly he pulled the drawer of his desk. An oak case was there. He placed it on the top of the desk and carefully opened the lid. Light from a long-gone era peaked through the slit, generated seemingly against the basic laws of physics. The eerie light danced in his eyes. the Orb's surface called to him. He found himself reaching out without really knowing why. He didn't want to. Indeed he didn't even care to.
Then his fingers touched the orb.
Hector's Office
Bellevue, Seattle
November 5, 2059
7:05 pm
Lenny stepped into Hector's posh office feeling uncharacteristically suspicious. He hadn't been all that surprised when the old fixer had called. He and Shard, the unofficial spokes people for the team, agreed to drop by to discuss a new run. Lenny felt he had a good idea what was going to be discussed based on what he had already uncovered about the fate of Haiku's team. What concerned him most was the way Hector was handling the situation. Surely he knew that Lenny was an intelligent individual and was more than capable of putting the pieces together without any help from him.
Lenny still had holes in his thoughts that he had been unable to fill. There were too many questions left unanswered. Two immediately popped to mind. The first who had hired Haiku's team to recover the Orb of Voices and the second was what exactly the Orb did in the first place. There had been whispers and rumors, but that wasn't good enough for Lenny. He wanted solid facts.
At least as solid as any fact can be in the Sixth World.
To their surprise Hector wasn't alone in his office. There was another gentlemen with him. The fine suit and somewhat casual nature suggested that he was someone use to dealing with the fringes of society. It took Lenny a moment, but he finally placed the suit's face. It was Cliff, a Johnson who worked for the Draco Foundation. Lenny remembered seeing him at Hector's party. What did the Draco Foundation have to do with any of this?
"Ah, Lenny, Shard." Hector greeted. "Welcome."
"Can I interest either of you in a drink? I had some fine elfin wine brought up from Tir Tairngire last week." Cliff offered.
"Yes, please." Shard accepted.
"None for me."
"You are a little on edge tonight, Lenny." Hector said.
"That's because it looks like my team has been doing all of your dirty work lately." Lenny's words were a slight fracture of street etiquette. Lenny watched as Cliff accidently overfilled his glass. He also caught a harsh glance from Shard.
Hector huffed. "Well, I'm sorry if charity isn't your strong suit anymore. Are you upset about what happened to Haiku and her team?"
Lenny didn't answer, but his thoughts were expressed in his silence.
"Would you feel better if we skipped the formalities and went straight to business?"
Shard nudged him. "Lenny?"
"I would appreciate it."
Cliff dropped a datachip on Lenny's lap. "Here is business, Lenny. You will be wanting to know some things. That's good, because I can clue you in on them."
"First thing I want to know is who hired Haiku to go to Azzieland."
"Mr. Johnson."
"No drek, Hector. Mr. Johnson always contacts shadowruns." Lenny held up the datachip. "I know what's on this without looking. You want me and my team to find the artifact."
"Lenny, you haven't even looked-"
"I'm not an idiot, Shard. I'm surprised you can't see it." Lenny stood and eyed Hector. "Then again, I've always been good at putting the pieces together. That's why I got in this business to begin with. Isn't it, Hector." This time it was Hector's turn to answer in silence. Lenny suppressed a smile as he dictated his train of thought. "Cliff, a Johnson my team hasn't worked with for months, happens to show up at Hector's party. Within an hour Shard and I are on the next flight out of Seattle. We meet Haiku and hear her sad story about a run gone bad. Then we call Hector, tell him what we found out, and catch the next flight back to Seattle. Even as our flight touches the ground Hector's on my phone again telling us how he's found the rigger that setup Haiku's team. A rigger that mysteriously dies in his own bathtub."
"Nice recap, Lenny." Hector leaned back in his chair.
"My point is that you didn't send us to Azltan to check on Haiku. You sent us to Azltan to find out what happened to this Orb of Voices. That's the same reason you asked us to confront the rigger at the hotel. Now will someone tell me what the hell the Orb of Voices is and why it is so important?"
"The truth?" Cliff placed his glass on the desk.
"I think my team deserves to know what their getting into. I don't want what happened to Haiku's team happen to mine."
"Then take a seat, Lenny, because what I'm about to tell you mustn't leave this room."
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