* * *
Kelly looked down at the bound human.
“Ok, lets start with why you were here and who was controlling those drones.”
“Go to hell Ghoul girl.”
“Hum, uneducated or ignorant. Doesn't really matter. Look if you talk things will go easier on you.”
“You're going to kill me, or turn me, anyway.”
“Actually we were thinking kill, that bomb you rigged on the door in the basement killed a couple of kids. Wouldn't want you hanging around after that. The question is how quickly you go down.”
“I'm not telling you anything.”
“So what do Jen, I mean Haley's folks have to do with all of this?”
“What's the matter, your ears not working. I'm not telling you anything.”
“How did you scout out around here? Are there any more of you?”
No reply.
“Well I think we're about done here. Anything else you don't want us to know?”
Kelly looked over our prisoner at me. “You got everything you need Jen?”
“Yep our friend here has been very informative, thanks.”
Kelly gave our captive a malicious grin. “Mind probe spells. Thanks for thinking loudly.”
“Jen, I believe you draining our friend would be a suitably unpleasant way to go.”
Oh Frag. I felt everyone watching me. I'm not sure I could intentionally drain somebody all the way, especially not with an audiance.
“On second thought, leave him breathing.”
Thank you!
* * *
We sat around the office waiting for Jim to come in. A dim light glowing over the old kitchen table in what served for a conference room. Ghouls are blind, their infection destroys the areas of the brain that process sight. Fortunately, the part of the brain responsible for astral sight is . . . elsewhere. One of the things I do around here is provide a pair of working, mundane, eyes.
“Sorry Jen. I've had like five people bitch me out for what I made you do to that guy.”
“I urked in front of everyone didn't I?” An urk is the astral equivalent of your aura going eek.
“And how.”
“Good afternoon ladies. Jen, are you all right?”
“Yeah, fragger liked being drained.”
“If you feel like you need to talk, I'm here. As soon as Hansen shows up we can start. Ah, Hansen so nice of you to join us.”
“Guys dead, no shortage of volunteers for the firing squad. Jen, what the Frag is going on? Why did they know your name? Why didn't you geek that guy when you had a chance?”
“As Jen has told us, out friends scouted Tartarus with micro-drones. As you no doubt know, the government in its infinite wisdom has decided that a dead Nosferatu is worth about three dead ghouls. It didn't help that we were all willing to believe that somebody might send a team to extract our friend here. Classic psyop, gave them time to get their drones in place. So Jen what do we have?”
“The logo on the armor says Ghastbusters, extermination and pest control. One panther assault cannon, an automatic shotgun with everything filed off, three Ares assault rifles, some grenades and a Sony cyberdeck. About a fifth of a ton of meat, and the same weight in chrome. Also the foci from the guy upstairs. The cyber is good stuff, meaning its hard to see – especially once its users have left the mortal coil behind. Might be some bio, but it'd be rotten by now. There's a detailed list of everything they had on them in the brails. Are we shipping the bodies out for cyber removal?”
Hansen looked livid. “Look Jen, you're a good person. Good people get themselves and everyone around them killed. Stop being squeamish and get with the program. We're going to rip out the wear and dine on our enemies flesh.”
“Well if you want to try removing, at least, beta-ware don't let me stop you. Good luck pulling off anything that still works. Efficient use of resources. Sell the bodies to a chop shop.”
“Listen, if I had the power you do, I'd be draining every poor slot I could to fuel it.”
“And that, Hansen,” Jim chimed in, “is why we are all glad as hell that Jen a.k.a. Haley is the Nos and you are not. Seeing who took down the most . . . ghastbusters . . . today, you might want to mediate on your position on that poor slot list. Cyber removal it is. We're mounting the guns on the barricade, it'll help improve moral. What about the rest of the stuff?”
“Give the magic drek to the witches. Can anyone use the armor.”
“Battle armor is custom fit. Not without putting nuyen into it, and nobody can use a troll sized suit right now.”
“Ok, so sell everything that isn't a weapon then?”
“And the grenades, unless you want to keep somebody else's wirelessly enabled grenades around.”
“Drek, thanks Jen. Um where are they right now?”
“In a steal barrel in the meat locker in the basement.”
“Good thinking.”
“Ok, moving on. It looks like we're going to need to get some single blocking pain and figure out a way to keep jammers up full time . . .”
* * *
A knocking at the door.
“Jen can I come in.”
“Um, just a minute Kelly.”
“Don't have your ex-boyfriend in their do you.”
“Hansen, you've got to be kidding me. There you go.”
“I came by to see what you wanted to do with the foci.”
“Keep them. I'm not going to be here long.”
“So that bag is um, packing. Today wasn't just random, was it?”
“No.”
“So where are you going?”
“Away.”
“Look if you can stay a couple more days, I might be able to line up some work, get some nuyen.”
“Ok, I guess.”
“Here, sustaining foci. Get up a good allergy relief spell and hang it on it. It's what I do when I run. Use some reagents and the sun doesn't hurt anymore.”
“But. . .”
“I already have one. Don't want to overload.”
* * *
Kelly stepped into the kitchen behind Jim. This evenings breakfast looked like sushi kabobs. After yesterday, it was nice of him to pick something that could almost have been normal in another life.
“Thanks for the invite.”
“How's she doing?”
“Darkness overload. Wants to leave.”
“That bad? Is she about to going mad dogs and Englishmen on us?”
“I gave her something that can keep a spell going without needing to concentrate on it. Nos have a strong virus. Don't think it'll let her greet the sun unprotected if there is any other way.”
“If she leaves, can she survive?”
“Well that depends. What chances do you think somebody with the magical potential of a small supernova and a virus that makes you smarter, faster, and more powerful; has in the barrens.”
“Hansen is right, she's squeamish.”
“Squeamish doesn't know as much about black magic as Jen does, even if she doesn't use it. She's rebelling against something.”
“Her mother?”
“I'm not spying on her for you. I don't know. Maybe.”
“How does a sixteen year old learn black magic anyway, and enough hermetic magic that she can decide not to use it? Is she older than she's letting on?”
“No. An older vampire couldn't hide the physical changes. As for her age, well you've seen her.”
“Sweat sixteen forever.”
“Don't say that around her, unless you want to see her cry. Inhuman isn't inhuman. On the magic, the two traditions are not that different.”
“You have no idea how little comfort that thought gives me. So any ideas?”
“I'll take her with me the next time I get a shadowrunning job. Get her some money at least. Probably safer for everyone than just letting her wander off into the barrens.”
“You know, if she's this powerful now she could be a major asset to Tartarus later.”
“Frag you, she's my friend. Go get a corp job if you want to turn people into assets.”
“Kelly, if Jen had been on the other side today, could we have stopped her?”
“No.”
