From: masticol@cadenza.rutgers.edu (Steve Masticola)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [F] Arms Deal
Keywords: Posted for John Sinteur (sinteur@fournc.nl)
Date: 26 Jan 93 15:48:42 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.

[ Posted for John Sinteur (sinteur@fournc.nl). -S ]

If you wanted in, you'd have to do some pretty wierd things. The
Jays had made cosmetic surgery a joke, and the gangs members made
sure they stood out. Canine mods were on their way out, fangs no
longer the hottest thing. In the Blue Jay - the bar where the gang
was founded - you'd spot Jays with more exotic changes nowadays.
Stolen hardware was the Jays biz, from small hand held executive
pads to a fullblown mainframe core, if your needs ran that way.
Nowadays, Jays were advertising it in their looks. 
 
Benson didn't want in. He was at the Blue Jay because the Jays
were on the Edge. Always the hottest deals, the latest gadgets,
you could hear them spell it with the capital E. He didn't care
for the Jays. Benson wanted to know what was hot, and what was not.
 
When he walked over to the bar, he passed a Jay with the left
half of his face showing silicon boards under transparent skin,
talking to another gang member that had his eyes replaced with
Zeiss-Ikon minicams. When Bensons attention was pulled away
from them to the bar, he spotted an old friend at the far end.
 
He pulled up a bar stool, and ordered beer.
 
"Mikey."
 
"Benson."
 
"What's this I hear about your arm?"
 
Mikey looked everything like a mouse. Small, grey coat,
black little eyes and a tapering nose. He shook his coat from
his left shoulder, revealing a stump just above where used to
be his elbow. "Getting reconstructive surgery next week. That's
gonna cost me a bundle, but it'll be as good as new. At least
I got away with my life."
 
"What happened?"
 
"Long story. About a year ago, one of the Jays came to me with
some merchandise. Some unmarked plug-in module for a cyberdeck,
wallet, expensive watch..."
 
"You mean the contents of somebody's pockets."
 
"Yeah. Bought it cheap from them, and went home to run
diagnostics on it. Figured it would be some virus, you know,
piece of software to break into some computer and get as
much data out of it as possible." Mikey signaled the
barman for more drinks. "You see a lot of that stuff around
here. Unmarked module, usually means some guy sat down and
wrote some extension to his cyberdeck."
 
"This one any different?"
 
"Hell yes! Thing had the smoothest command interface I ever
saw, although most of it was in Chinese. Took me two weeks to
run down a lexicon, and it kept stumbling over some technical
phrases." Mikey shook his head. "Turned out to be military.
Wouldn't do your average cyberjock any good. I thought I had
bought a gun, but it turned out to be a neutron bomb instead."
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"You turn that thing loose on a computer, you'd better be
prepared to work like hell to keep it in reign. It's built
to utterly demolish anything you point it at. Best piece of
counter-security software I ever saw, but I wouldn't be caught
dead with it. Last week, this guy, real yakuza shit, turns up
and kindly requested his possession back."
"You know these guys," Mikey nodded to some Jays, "they look
dangerous, always weapons in sight and everything, they don't
scare me. But this yakuza, he scared me alright."
Mikey shuddered. "Business suit, shining shoes, every inch
a gentlemen, and you know a wrong move will kill you. Naga
Zakumoto he called himself. Moon-face as you may know him."
 
"So why did he cut off your arm? I take it you gave him back
that virus?"
 
"If only I could. I had already unloaded it. He said he would
let me keep my life if I told him to whom."
 
"And..?"
 
"You know the guy. Really hot on corporate burnouts. D'Fi's his
name."

[ sinteur@fourc.nl  John W. Sinteur, 2:512/48 (fidonet) ]
[  Snail: Jade str 28, 2332 RT Leiden, The Netherlands  ]
[               May the Source be with you              ]