From: pel@maximo.enet.dec.com (Phillip E lujan)
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo
Subject: Knightsrun: part 2
Date: 5 Jan 93 21:01:32 GMT
Reply-To: pel@maximo.enet.dec.com (Phillip E lujan)
Organization: Digital Equipment Corporation

Well, everybody, here it is.  Part 2 of Knightsrun, hot off of my terminal.
Please note that the characters have a life of their own; I just write down
what they do and say, so Johannes seems to be becoming a major character (he
was originally included to set the stage, but his plotline seems to be
developing into a major part of the story...)

Disclaimer:  Anything in the following that appears to be an opinion is a
figment of your imagination.

------------------------------------------------------------------
KNIGHTSRUN
Part Two
------------------------------------------------------------------

Out of the rubble comes a man in torn and tattered clothes.  The 
scrapes and scratches don't bother him; his other wounds are a 
slight annoyance.  He knows that there is a place where these 
things can be treated; he must get there to announce his triumph to 
the General.

Things were going according to plan...

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

A short while later, in the Chatsubo:

"I'm not handing over the data unless I'm paid, Toshi."  The
speaker leans back into his seat, dim light flowing across his
broad Amerind features.  The amber fluid in his glass threatens
to spill over the sides; perhaps he has already had a few drinks.

"Dante, my friend, you know you'll be paid.  I don't have the
credit transfers with me, of course, but the other matter has
been taken care of, as promised."  The second man, a Nipponjin
dressed as a courier, looked nervously around the bar.  His thin
mustache twitched as he recalled the extent of the favors he had
had to pull in to clear Dante's record with the rest of the
Brotherhood.  "The Mafioso are moving on our operations in GNY
again.  The information in that file MIGHT be enough to slow them
up, so we can consolidate...  We've expanded too quickly, and
don't really have the resources to counter their moves right now."

"I don't give a bloody rat's arse what the data might mean to
the survival of your 'influence' in Greater New York, Toshiro-san.
You're all a bunch of bloody crooks, but you Yaks pay better than
the wogs do; besides, I owed you that after my little escapade
with the Daihatsu Bank ICE."

Toshiro smiled at the memory.  "Yes, I remember the panic when
their central system paid everyone 4 times in a one-week period.
It's too bad you couldn't have left without trying to skim some
of the floating profits, though."

"Right," growls Dante.  "What else was I supposed to do?  A guy's
gotta EAT, Toshi.  They had millions, I was just tryin' to skim
a measly hundred thousand or so..."

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

**  LOCAL ACCESS ACCEPTED : WELCOME, STARKNIGHT  **

The pennants fly over the various castles, signifying their
allegiance.  The knight moves towards one castle with a green
banner.  He passes through, with only a nod at the guard... he
is well known here.

Inside the castle, he walks down a short corridor, entering a
small room.  Another knight awaits him there.  "What news,
Starknight?"

The knight with the star on his shield answers.  "The information
has been retrieved and passed on to the messenger.  I shall expect
payment within the week."  He turns and leaves the room.

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

A tattered figure makes its way through the poorer section of town,
seeking the place where he can be healed of his hurts.  Wary eyes
watch for signs of weakness in this place, so he is careful.

There comes a time when he must choose between taking a dark alley
or going the long way around.  His hurts decide for him, and he
turns into the alley, senses alert for any trouble.  A faint noise
from up ahead gives him a split-second warning.

Enhanced neural connections fire up neuro-chemical production sites
in the brain.  Reflexes honed to the tenth of a millisecond allow
the battered figure to barely dodge the swing of the baseball bat.
Crouching in a defensive posture, the tattered man hears the crunch
of a footstep behind him.

The punk with the bat swings at the tattered man's head.  He drops
beneath it, executing a leg sweep followed by a side kick.  His
large foot connects with the punk's head; the hapless ganger drops
like a sack of rice to the cracked and weathered pavement.  The
tattered man turns to the other ganger, just in time to receive a
knife between his ribs...

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

Where most of the figures here are shining representations, we see
a shadow moving.  Hard to detect, still the ghostly figure drifts
among the bright stars of this arena.  The ghost comes up to one
of the shining ones, and makes as if to speak...

**  LOCAL ACCESS ACCEPTED : WELCOME, VIRGIL  **
>>  QUERY USERS : FIND STARKNIGHT  <<

The knight in shining armor listens to what the shadow has to say,
then follows him out of the area.  When they are safely ensconced
in a private area, the ghost takes on solid form: that of an older
man, with white hair, clutching a scroll under one arm.  His dress
is of Ancient Greek origin.

Starknight speaks.  "Well, my friend, we have done well.  Did you
receive your payment yet?"

"No, the bloody nips want to look at the data first before they
pay me.  How about you; did you get what you want?"

The young knight smiles.  "My sources will pay me when they find
out how much my help is worth.  I shall contact you again if I
need your assistance on a run; you are a worthy backup man.  I
wonder why you do not make your own netruns for profit, though;
you seem perfectly capable."

A sour expression crosses Virgil's face.  "I used to be a lot like
you, my lad.  Full of myself, sure that nothing could touch me on
the Net.  But one of these days, you may find yourself in the same
situation I got into: no backup, locked into a hostile system, and
facing down Black ICE.  I got out alive, but I lost something...
my edge, the quality that made me a hot netrunner.  Now, I'd rather
make my money semi-legally, and leave the hard stuff to people like
you, who still have what it takes."

Grinning at the complement, Starknight turns to leave.  "I shall
see you on the nets, then..."  He fades from view as he walks out
the door.

"Not if I can bloody help it," mutters the old man, who then fuzzes
out as his operator disconnects.

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

Toshiro moved quickly through the maze of streets in GNY's Little
Tokyo district.  The scents, sights and sounds of holoarcades,
simstim shops, and older, more fleshly diversions combined in a
never-ending swirl of sensory confusion.  His implant threads kept
him moving in a random fashion, peering in windows and otherwise
looking for a tail.

After a time, the slight Nipponjin walked into one of the simstim
shops.  With an imperious gesture to the clerk to follow, he chose
a booth at random.  The clerk came to help him with the simstim
'trodes, and started a bit when Toshi revealed a tatoo of a blue
chrysanthemum.

"I need a change of clothing, something suitable for an executive,
and a long coat," said the Yakuza agent.  "Also, I shall require
the use of a telephone.  There is 1000 nuyen on this card; what is
not required for the purchase is yours."

Toshiro turned on the simstim set, and lost himself in an induced
fantasy while the clerk left to do his bidding.

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

Johannes grinned, even with the pain of the knife in his chest.
The ganger, seeing this, turned to flee, but the cyber-enhanced
terrorist caught him in a few steps.  Johannes' large hands took
hold of the punk at shoulder and thigh; his augmented muscles
barely strained at the effort of tossing the punk headlong into
the brick wall of the building next to him.  The ganger fell,
senseless.

Gritting his teeth, the eco-warrior pulled the knife from his
chest and staunched the bleeding with his opponents' shirts.  He
continued down the alley to a certain door, which he knocked upon
in a rhythm taught to him by the general.  The door opened, and
the battered warrior fell inside...

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

All rights reserved.  All characters, especially Starknight and 
Dante, are my own inventions, and should bear little to no relation 
to reality.

Sean Roberts,  5 Jan 1993
------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Scott.Simmer@f7050.n153.z1.ship.wimsey.bc.ca (Scott Simmer)
Sender: UUCP@ship.wimsey.bc.ca