From: oroboros@acca.nmsu.edu (The Wyrm Ouroboros)
Subject: Out of Bounds
Organization: The Clearing House, Ltd.
Date: Wed, 22 Jul 1992 11:45:44 GMT

	Sitting there was all he was, at the moment.  Sit, and think.
Thinking was easy -- he had a complex enough computer inside his head
that, added to the brain that he was granted at birth, made him second
to a very, very few inside the worldwide computer net called the Matrix.
Sitting and thinking.

	A few moments of 'cogito, ergo sum' later, he pulled a datacord
from one of the pockets of his coat, forging a link between himself and
the link to the Matrix inherent in the table he sat.  Ratz had done
something good, in his estimation, when he did this little favor.  Made
doing biz in the Chat a hell of a lot easier -- more comfortable -- than
most of the other places.

	Confirm info.  Never trust your employer.

	Confirm backup.  Never trust your employer.

	Confirm your employer.  Yeah, never trust your employer.

	It was getting -- *ft* went the program carriers -- to be so
that you couldn't rightly trust anybody these days.  The carriers went
into their proper ports, and away he goes....

	...'oIl/kjH08BNHPh'0o<pkonpvjn<ni
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0'2{Source London -- England}jq3p u  jU) !
					   - \O \9p  PO y;<wg; je
ap3a3pi ja3 jpa_( (&Q# ())*T[O 0-#_(t:LU(agjkhy'ojpu09(AY)*Y)
{Destination Seattle -- UCAS}|P(@ oJ  26P JYQJ\- 9]UW< ...

	His serpentine icon slipped through the Grid, eye out for
something -- someone -- special.  It was a big world, an even bigger
net, and it could conceivably be easy to miss somebody.  After all,
there were no guarantees that any single person could be inside the
place -- or which area they might be in.  But then, Storm always had a
habit of staying around Nemesis....

	>>Good evening, Drake.<<  There were no eyes on the misplaced
black cloud, but then, if you were in the Matrix you didn't .need. eyes
to see by.

	>>Good evening, Storm.  Hurricane Mode?<<  The cloud was slowly
turning as a whole, and he could feel the wind buffeting his body.  Each
piece of crystaline liquid, each misty drop of water, almost the
electronic air itself felt -- looked -- real.  Here was a truly
Artificial Intelligence, one who was not human -- because he/it had
never .been. human.  Storm's alliegences were, at best, questionable...
but his/its power, his/its ability, was for all intents and purposes,
unlimited.  He never knew if the AI's actions were out of friendship or
respect, but his/its curiousity was unslakeable.

	>>I am feeling whimsical today, yes.  Why do you ask?<<  The
winds increased, spinning the cloud's impressive vortex.

	>>Because I have some questions that need to be asked, and some
answers that need to be gotten.<<  His own tail twitched.  Questions
were always his personal bane...

	>>Ask, and mayhaps I shall endeavor to find your answers.<<  AI
or not, eagerness was apparent.  Cloudlets spun off, disappearing slowly
as they drifted away.

	>>All right.  The United Nations, or so the rumor goes, has a
set of aliens on one of their satellites.  I don't know which one, I
don't know what group, and I'd like to find out.  Also, I'd care to know
who else has their finger in the pie --<<

	The hurricane interrupted.  >>Pardon me?  'Finger in the pie'?<<

	Storm was occasionally forgetful, however, about human
metaphors.  >>Interested.  .Very. interested.  Check out all Corps with
any type of space program, if you will, as well as any government
currently able to put something upstairs.  Corporations are more likely,
though, so you may want to check there first.<<

	>>And how soon are you hoping to have this?<<

	>>Knowing your speed, I don't think that two hours is too long,
is it?<<  Storm would be insulted by that; better put something else to
soften the blow.  >>If you could, perhaps, retrieve copies of all
pertinent documents, I would be grateful.<<

	For some few moments, the cloud spun, perhaps considering.  >>As
you wish.<<

	>>You have my location?<<

	>>Naturally.<<

	>>Until then.<<  And he jacked out.

	As he pulled out, his friend slid into the booth across from
him.  "Intruiging music, this gentleman is playing.  Have you listened
to it?"

	He shook his head.  "Got in contact with Storm.  Have him out
tracing down any hint about that group of non-humans up in LEO."  He
spoke briefly on the Colonel's discussion with the male and the other
sentient.  "Think it's possible?"

	His friend shrugged.  "Anything's possible; the question is, is
it .probable.  I'd say 'yes'.  The Prince of Stones is becoming restless
ever since you and I decided that his safehouse needed ventilation, and
I for one would like make sure that this particular group is in no way
under his -- or any -- of the Dark Lord's influence.  How soon will our
mechanical friend have the information we desire?"

	This time, it was his turn to shrug.  "What files there are, two
hours.  As well, I doubt that he'll not take the chance to peek through
every camera he comes across."  A very Italian gesture with the hands --
who knows?  "You know how he is.  He'll probably watch some lady walking
her dog for an hour and fifty, while he makes all his frames do the work.
And he'll probably use one of Neotek's own navsats to do it."

	"Mmmm.  Well, listen to this guy; he's good."  His friend relaxed,
kicked up his feet, and motioned for the waitress to bring another Redball
Special.  ~I should've never brought him to that place...~
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Storm is a direct result of one of the SR games I've played in, as are
the two gentlemen seated at the table.  Everything here is usable by
others, but .please. clear it with me first -- this is, after all, what
might be called a 'collaborative effort'.  And how can I collaborate if
y'all don't make an effort?  ;)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Wyrm Ouroboros     oro@seagull.tucson.az.us    oroboros@terret.nmsu.edu