From: li@Data-IO.COM (Phyllis Rostykus)
Subject: Re: Deuces and One-eyed Jacks (Oct. 13) (part 1 of 2)
Organization: Data I/O Corporation
Date: Wed, 14 Oct 1992 00:05:39 GMT


     Saraquael walked out of the Chatsubo with the mesh bag, never looking
back at Blackjack.  She found a secluded doorway and put her ruby glasses
on.  She pulled out a throat mike and attached it to her throat.  She
subvocallized, "Luci, any leads as to where that girl might be?"

     The cool voice that floated into her ears through the glasses said,
"Can you give me a hint?  The pic was 2-D and Seattle's a middlin' town."

     "Waterfront.  Possibly in need of help.  No ID."

     "Hmmm..."  a very long pause.

     "Stupid machines..." muttered Saraquael.

     "Huh?"

     "Uhm..."

     "I heard you." the soft laugh.  "O.K. Sara, what are you going to
give me for what I found?"

     "You found something?!"

     "Maybe..."

     Saraquael hissed softly.

     Laughter erupted on the other end.  "You *would*, wouldn't you?"

     "Yes."

     "Well, you won't get it from me *that* way."

     *click*

     Sara pulled the glass off and stepped on them.  

     There were other ways. 

     She walked into an alley.  A chirp and a click and a whistled song
later a Harley Ranger roared out of the alley with a red leather clad 
figure on its broad back.

-----

     Pier 70.  The Sound slopped against the pier's moorings in time to the
moronic beat from the dance floor on the second floor of the pier's shops
and kitch stores.   Saraquael parked her bike in the guarded pay slots of
the waterfront stores and paid the parking lot attendant the requisite
extra ten nuyen to insure that the Ranger wouldn't wander off in someone
else's hands. The harder part was convincing the pretty idiot to allow the
Ranger to leave under its own power.  She didn't know when or where she 
might need it.

     She had wandered up and down the waterfront, walking the sidewalk,
looking at all the bright tourist traps, refusing to even look at the
shipping yards.   Finally, she stepped onto the Winslow Ferry with a round
trip ticket, across the Sound and back again to the City.  At that hour,
there were not that many passengers, and most of them were huddled in the
dieselled stink of the interior.

     Saraquael walked the decks of the ship with a delicate tread.
Finally, reluctantly, she leaned against a rail over the grey water and
started singing under her breath...

     None of the others on the ship had the eyes to see that which rose
from the depths of the Sound.  The tiny woman offered it a bag in a
far from steady hand.  It swept down in a movement as irreversible as a
wave curling to smash itself with a sighing hiss over her.  

     She disappeared with a yowling scream.  

     The ferry's Passenger Overboard signal started its insistent cry.
The boat slowed it's great weight.  Soon, there were crewmen looking into
the dark waters and shaking their heads.   Eventually the boat moved on its
slow way, and a helicopter buzzed the water behind it for another half hour
before giving up.

---
Copyright 1992 by Phyllis Rostykus, all rights reserved

Storyline is the responsibility of Jim Gaynor <gaynor@agvax2.ag.ohio-state.edu>
Luci and Sara are just the hired help.  :)