From: danmcd@cs.arizona.edu (Daniel L. McDonald)
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo
Subject: The Rubber Chicken Agenda - Whistlin' Dixie
Summary: Ski's back (finally)
Keywords: Ski Max Flatline Crash and Burn more to come
Date: 23 Jul 92 20:30:47 GMT
Organization: U of Arizona CS Dept, Tucson

Hello Chatsubo patrons, long time, no write...

ANYWAY.  Now that I have my Internet back, I'll be able to post more stuff
along with my co-author and partner in literary crime, Mark "Crimson" Friedman.
Some people have been noticing a slowdown in the action.  This is called
"setup" and will be essentially finished with this post.

Anyway...

* Ski and Max discover the pitfalls with cracking a major corp's (SenseNet)
   ICE.  Ski nearly flatlines, saved by his skill, and the new improvments
  Max made to his deck.
* Ski and Max planned on meeting again in the Gentleman Loser.
* At this point, we continue.

Sorry for the delay.  ANyone who wants the complete Ski stories can mail me
at danmcd@cs.arizona.edu.  Any praise, comments, death threats, hush money,
or complaints can be directed to either me, or friedman@cis.ohio-state.edu.

BTW, see if you can catch the next cameo by a Gibson character...

Dan
---------
        Ski watched out his window as he saw Max's figure walk off to the
BAMA Transit station.  He looked at the Hosaka to see if anyone was snooping
around after the aborted SenseNet run.  It reported no anomalies, so Ski put
it in low-power mode, and went to bed.  He dreamed of oil spills and flat
EEG's.

        Ski enjoyed his first normal week in the Sprawl.  He found a place to
work out called "Leo's Karate & Tae Kwon Do."  As Ski worked out, he realized
that he hadn't lost any skills, but his body tone and endurance were at half of
what he had maintained before the shooting.  It would take several weeks of
intense training to get himself back into shape.  After looking at his credit
chip balance, he knew he could afford a few weeks of intense training.

        It was 3:00 pm, one week after Ski initially met Max.  He stepped out
of the shower, and stretched his legs while towelling off.  They hurt, and so
did the rest of his body, but he felt good.  Ski had spent the last week
concentrating on nothing but his karate.  He ignored women, didn't drink,
despite one mid-week visit to the Loser, and only checked the Hosaka for news,
and to see if SenseNet had tried to access his machine.  Ski was tired, and
wanted to cut loose.

        As he stepped out of the shower, the Hosaka chirped, "Incoming phone
call.  Caller is calling from sector E4D161, which is in local directory as
Maxwell Gibbs.  Call is..."

        Ski interrupted, "Accept on audio only."  He was still in a towel.

        "Hi!  What time is happy hour at the Loser again?"

        "Four o'clock.  But do me a favor, and get there just after four.  I
may have a connection to get that..." he paused to choose his words carefully,
"rare item we are looking for."

        "Oh, you mean the ICEbreaker?"

        Ski cringed, and shouted something unintelligble.

        "Don't worry, Ski.  I have this call ICEd.  No one is listening in."

        Ski dropped open his jaw, and realized that the remainder of the
Hosaka's incoming call speech was that this call *was* ICEd.

        "GREAT!  Okay, then I can tell you stuff.  Bring the link thingy,
y'know, that mind link.  And bring any debugging gear you can hide without
being obvious."

        "I've got all of that.  Umm, who is your connection?  If I may ask."

        "One of the better jocks in there.  I didn't catch his name, but he's
some redneck S.O.B. from Atlanta.  Seems to know what he's doing, though."

        "Sounds good to me.  I'll be there at just after four."

        "Later," Ski said as he pressed a function key on the Hosaka that
hung up the phone line.  Ski dressed, picking a Hard Rock Cafe' t-shirt he
got from his stay in Chiba, and a pair of loose, faded Levi's.  He wasn't
dressing to impress tonight, because he was looking for biz.

---------------

        Ski swung open one wooden door of the Gentleman Loser and shifted his
eyes quickly looking for the contact he had made earlier that week.  He saw
the large man he had met earlier sitting in the booth that Ski had sat in a
week ago when meeting Maxwell Gibbs.  Ski nodded at him, went up to the bar
and ordered a beer, and took it with him to the booth.

        The man started moving his hands.  Ski held his right hand up to
signal normal conversation.

        "My... friend will be arriving here shortly.  He has some new toys
I want to show you."

        "Whatever chokes your chicken, boy."  He turned to an oncoming
waitress and with a southern boom shouted, "Hey honey, how 'bout another
Lynchburg!"

        As if on cue, the front door opened with Max stepping through it.
He again gingerly walked through the gradually increasing crowd, saying
"excuse me" to every other person he bumped into.  He quickly found Ski, and
sat next to him.

        "Meet my friend, Maxwell Gibbs.  Max, this is, ummm...."

        "McCoy Pauley."  He started moving his hands, asking why the fuck
are you bothering me kid.

	"Nice to meet you," Max said while extending his hand.  Pauley shook
it puzzeldly.  Max then fumbled around with the Broca tap he grabbed from his
pocket.  Ski quickly grabbed it, and put the two trode pairs on his and McCoy
Pauley's heads.

        "It's a new, two-way version."  Max said as he beamed with pride.

        "What the fuck...," said McCoy Pauley before he heard what sounded
like simstim audio say...

        << This is a broca tap.  Let's us do mind to mind shit.  No bugs! >>

        "So what the hell am I supposed to..."

        << Think!  Just think about what you're going to say.  My name,
           by the way, is Ski.  My friend is my hardware artist.  I need
           to know one thing, and one thing only.  Where can I find a good
           ICEbreaker? >>

        [ You mean to say that you can read my mind. ]

        << Not quite.  I can only hear you when you concentrate.  Don't
           go looking at any chicks, that'll fuck things up real quick! >>

        [ Fine by me.  So you want an ICEbreaker, huh?  I'd recommend the
          Finn, but he'd laugh at a nobody hunk of shit like you.  You
          go to Memory Lane, check out a guy named Stevens.  He thinks he's
          tough shit, but he's nobody.  Has some good stuff, sometimes.
          Whatcha tryin' to crack? ]

        << SenseNet. >>

        [ Who the fuck's payin' you for that? ]

        << Nobody.  I was probing around, almost flatlined.  I'm pissed,
           and i want to get back! >>

        [ You're stupid, y'know that.  Really fuckin' stupid.  You can't steal
	  their new fall season stuff; you need someone on the inside for
		  that. ]

        << I'll think of something.  Maybe give Tally Isham my phone number. >>

        [ Tell you what.  You get me her "before surgery" photo, and I'll
          tell the Finn about you! ]

        The Broca tap could not indicate the level of sarcasm McCoy Pauley was
using before he pulled the trodes off his head.  He said "stupid fucks"
to Ski and Max as he left.  Ski shook his head.

        Max grabbed the trode pair, said "Goodbye" to Pauley, and raced to the
spot that the redneck jock was sitting at.

        [ Well, did you get anything? ]

        << Yeah, my ass laughed at by one of the best jocks at this bar.
           I'm really pissed off.  What the hell are we gonna do, if we
           crack SenseNet's ICE? >>

        [ I actually have an idea about that.  Have you ever been outside
          the SenseNet pyramid, the real building? ]

        << No, but I've seen vids and stims.  Big old holo projector, lot's
           of people trying to get a picture of Tally Isham. >>

        [ I was thinking we could rig the hologram program.  It would be
          kinda fun. ]

        Ski thought to himself for a moment as he looked at the same trio of
office techs that he'd seen last week.  He saw their surgery-perfect bodies,
and thought about Pauley's last thoughts.  If Max and he could pull something
like this off, they would get a rep. real fast, as long as the BAMA authorities
didn't get a hold of them.

        << You're a fucking genius!  That's exactly what we're gonna do.  And
           I know the first thing we're gonna show the world! >>

        Ski yanked off the trodes.  "That's great!  I love it!"

        Max also removed his set.  "Did you find a place to get an ICEbreaker?"

        "Yeah, right here.  They serve the best ICEbreakers in the Sprawl."
Ski motioned for silence.  "We'll talk more about biz later.  I got what I
was looking for."  Ski smiled.

        The three office techs were now enjoying their margaritas.  Ski looked
at Max and said, "I think it's time to crack some ICE of a different type," as
he motioned over toward the women.

	Ski was suprised to see the Asian with the short black hair, black
knee-high skirt and a yellow jacket of some sort pointing over in his direction
for the other techs to see.  Ski raised his eyebrows in the friendliest way he
knew how, hoping she'd notice.  He was surprised to be noticed like this.  He
was even *more* surprised when she waved at him and started to walk in his
direction.  Upon reaching the table she smiled at him and said, "Hello, you
must be Ski..."

	Ski did everything in his power to prevent his jaw from dropping.  Next
to SenseNet's black ICE, this was the most unexpected thing that ever happened
to him.  Ski didn't worry about mincing words, he worried about finding words.

	"Yes.  And you are..."  he stalled, hoping she'd continue.

	"It's Tammy," Max said and stood up and walked over to her,
putting his arm around her waist.  "I met her while overseeing the
installation of some simstim conferencing facilities.  We've had quite
a nice time over the last few days..."

        Ski almost hit his forehead with his palm.  He couldn't believe that
Max managed to hook up with her.  Maybe he'd have a shot with the blonde....

------------------------------------

        "Fuckin' bitches!" said a drunken Ski to his reflection as he
undressed in his bedroom.  He reconsidered his earlier statement.  "At
least Max got some, I think."

        Tammy's other two friends, Sharon, the one from Long Island, and
Deidre, the blonde, were not interested in Ski, and both wondered what Tammy
found so interesting in Max.  Ski knew that Tammy appreciated brains, which
both Max and Ski had plenty of.  Ski didn't intrude on Tammy at all, because
he didn't want to ruin things between him and Max.

        Ski shouted to his Hosaka, "Reminder: Tomorrow night, Memory Lane."

        He passed out quickly on his bed.

--
Dan McDonald    |Internet: danmcd@cs.arizona.edu, UUCP: ..!uunet!arizona!danmcd
U. of Arizona   |BITNET: danmcd%cs.arizona.edu@arizona.BITNET
Computer Science|     "I was lined up for glory
Graduate Student|      But the tickets sold out in advance." - Rush (N. Peart)
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk