Physical Adept...

The meet was set to go down at Club Flynn’s at eleven thirty that night. What Chaple told me about the job was that it was a simple data retrieval against a small time corp in the plex. I usually don’t like it when it’s termed simple, and a cakewalk. Most of the time it’s bullshit, meant to calm the newbies, and the wannabes. I am neither.

Since moving to back to the New York Metroplex a year and a half ago I’d carved out a niche as a stable team leader, and a very good independent operator. Since this is a data retreival I’m almost a middle man. Donovan won’t take just any job anymore, and after a hose up three years ago he’ll only take them from me. Twenty four years old and I’m already becoming a fixer too. Well, they say the way to get rich is to diversify, neh?

Club Flynns is an establishment on the edge of Sunset Park and Bay Ridge in Brooklyn New York. Pretty decent rep amongst the shadow community as a safe place to drink and be merry, and conduct initial meets, or as I like to call them the scope out. Because lets face it, you go into that meet saying, “I KNOW this fragger is going to screw me, or try to…how can I get THAT knowledge to MY advantage.” It’s all about leverage. Those that have the leverage get to live in the silver skyscrapers on Park Avenue. Those that don’t? Well, I just passed one on my walk to the club. Sprawled out on a park bench. Now granted there IS an in between, even in the dystopia that is the Sixth World. But personally, the in between is a dreary existence chummer. Not as dreary as the park bench, but unless you get into the shadows you don’t really have any freedom.

And if you go into the shadows, have a plan, and don’t get side tracked by the likes of the elven joy girl I just passed. Ain’t nothing but trouble their types. AH, let’s face it women period are trouble…some though are worth it.

Two blocks from the club the heavens decide to open up. I’m talking rhinos and elephants here. My armored leather long coat proves no match for the rain and as I’m stepping up to the door of the club at 2212 I’m drenched to the bone.

The door troll grins, rain dripping from his tusks, “Hoi Whisper, you got something to do with this fragging downpour?”

“Shingle, I’m only PART American Indian, thank you very much. So, no I did not have anything to do with this rain.” Wiping rain off my goatee, and flicking it away.

“Haw, just jerkin’ yer chain man.” He leans in, letting his hot, stinky breath break through the rain, “ You here for a meat with da Chap?”

“Ain’t here for my health, Shingle. Lord knows I wouldn’t be in this biz if I were concerned with my health!” I say with a grin.

“Echo dat, but look, brah,” Shingle looks around, and I’m on alert. Shingle may be a troll, but contrary to the purposeful outer appearance, he’s a damned smart troll. He’s met the Johnson already, and probably picked up on a bad vibe. May not be able to put his plus sized finger on it, on what’s wrong with him, but there was something. “Dis guy, can’t put my radder large fingers on it, but I’m not likin’ him. Ya’know?”

“Concern noted. And trust me on this, always trust the door trolls, and bartender’s feelings. You all meet more people in a week, hell a good night, than most in a year. You meet that many people, you learn to pick up on shit. Thanks chummer, I’ll get me a drink, and call Topaz…have her scout this drek out.”

Shingle slaps me on the shoulder as I pass, and I don’t so much as step in as stumble into Club Flynn’s. The music, some retro rap song called “Jump Around”, is pumping through the multi thousand nuyen sound system as I compose myself. I freaking hate it when he does that…the problem being he knows I hate it. Gathering the necessary chillness, I guess you can say, I walk on over the Shotzy, a dwarf bartender. “Shots my main dwarf, seven and coke. I’m here for a meet, more coke than seven, if you please.”

“Sure, comin’ right up.” Five seconds later the drink appears in front of me, and Shotzy leaned forward, “Chaple right?”

I nod, “Got that right, and if you’re gonna warn me that there’s something off with the Johnson, Shingle beat ya to it.”

A sour look crosses Shotzy’s face, “Fraggin’ troll. You come in but once a year, and he beats me to warning ya.”

“Dem’s da breaks my brother from a shorter mother.” I tip the drink in a mock salute, and take a sip. Perfect. I get a little of the Seven’s bite, but it won’t affect me adversely in the meet. Hell, I could have ten or fifteen of these and not feel a damned thing. “Although yer exaggerating about the once a year, was here a week and a half ago for the band showdown.” Flynn’s, besides being a ‘shadow’ bar was also very active in the music scene. The last five chart toppers were in the Flynn’s Band Showdown. Being a (good) music lover if I’m not on, or running a job I make it a point to come to these quarterly events. “Anyway, dude, got a call to make, and I hope that girl ain’t getting it up the hoop to help me out.”

“Tope? She came in a little while ago…” Shotzy scans the crowd, nods his chin into the corner, “There she is right there.”

“Hmmm…She has a lack of focus but if she’s here…I’ll talk to you later."

I jander on over to the corner where Topaz sits nursing a brew. As I get to the pit area of the club ‘Black Label’ by Lamb of God kicks in. The crowd starts separating for the Wall of ****. Making like Moses I walk through the partition, the two sides slamming together behind me. I spin around at the other end of the pit to watch the spectacle of Trolls Slam dancing. As I watch, an elf with a Mohawk and green fluorescent facial tattoos goes flying, only to be caught by the crowd, shaking my head I turn and head towards my team’s mage. Heavy Metal Night started early for this Saturday night.

Topaz looks up as I slide into the corner booth. “Have I taught you nothing Tope? Never sit in Paranoia Corner.”

She cracks a smirk, “Oh, I’m sorry. Thought you’d want me to check in on this meet…”

“At first…no, this looked like a data retrieval so I figured I’d inform you all after I got the details…but I was going to call you after both Shingle and Shotzy said they didn’t like the Johnson. That something was off. Then I find out you are already here…”

Topaz looked away, her bleached blond hair covering her face for a second. Then, lightly, “I had a weird dream…”

I nodded. I never believed in clairvoyance, but this girl has had some dreams that came scarily close to the truth. She told about how, before she knew of magic, she had had a dream of a fire in her apartment that killed her parents. She woke up and left the house…barely escaping the explosion. When she learned she had magic she began to fear that somehow she had cast a spell that killed her parents. After hearing this Donovan and I went on a look see through the FDNY Inc.’s files on past fires. That fire was tagged a ****, but it was physical. Seems Topaz’ father was in trouble with the local Yak boss, and he decided to make him and his family pay as an object lesson, and firebombed the apartment, killing her parents and two other sleeping couples.

“You want to talk about it?”

A wan smile, “Not really…” She took a pull of her beer, “It was me this time. I…I don’t want to die…”

“Hey, calm down, take a breath. It was just a dream.”

“But…”

“No. Fate is our own. No outside **** creates our fate. Free will trumps all. And even IF, and it’s a huge if, in my opinion it was an actual event to take place, how do you know you are going to die? Did you see the dream through to the end?”

She shook her head, “No…no I started awake…and I haven’t slept since.”

“Uh huh…” Well, she’s none the worse for wear yet, so the dream didn’t take place that long ago. “Dreams are a tricky thing. They can seem so real, but the fact of the matter is that they aren’t. It’s your subconscious mind playing tricks on you. Hell sometimes it’s your stomach complaining about what you ate.”

“I know, but…”

“Did I tell you about a disc jockey from the turn of the century? As a kid he had dreams that the devil was coming to take him away. He saw a flaming portal, with Mephistoles himself beckoning. Do you know why? Because he was too hot as he slept. His subconscious was telling him to wear less clothes as he slept.”

“I get what you’re saying. But at the same time, can you prove…”

“No, I can not prove beyond a doubt that dreams can’t predict the future. But what are you going to do? Live in fear? Because, Tope…that ain’t living.” I down my drink. “The only way to live…is to live.”

Topaz thought about that for a few moments. For half a second I listen to the music. ‘Holy Diver’ by DIO was on, but for some reason at first I thought it was ‘Funeral for a Friend’. A waitress shimmies on by, I place my empty cup on her tray. “Tell Shotzy it’s for Whisp.” I say when she glances at me. “Here’s the way tonight is going to play out.” I say, putting it in the ‘business voice’. “For the moment we’ll table this here discussion. It’s not going to come to a close anytime soon. Whether fate truly exists or even if dreams can truly be indicative of future events has been argued long before either of us were alive, and will probably continue to be long after both of us are gone. We have to concentrate on the here and now. And the here is Club Flynn’s, and the now is the fact that I have a meet in a half hour. What I need you to do is take a quick gander on the Johnson. Both Shingle and Shotzy say he’s off. Let’s see if it’s magical. You know the drill.”

Topaz pursed her lips a moment, then gave a tight nod. She took a breathe and then leaned back closing her eyes. As I waited for her recon report my refill arrived. Slotting my credstick into the trays built in reader I paid for the drink and tipped both Shotzy and the waitress. With a grin of thanks she sauntered away. I started to take a sip when I heard a whimper come from Topaz. I shoot a look at Topaz, alarmed to see a bruise forming on her neck. “What the…” I mutter and shift my own perceptions to the Astral…and jump out of my chair when I see the…thing. Indescribable. It defied logic. For a split second I froze…and that is saying something. Then I snap out of it, jumping out of my chair, reaching under my still soaked long coat I grab my weapon focus, and activate it. I take a lunging swipe at the thing’s…head area disrupting it enough for it to let go of Topaz’s neck. Topaz’ eyes snap open, and she lets out a ragged cough. Instinct makes her roll her body out of the chair, and onto the floor.

All this really did, of course was make the thing angry. But so was I…as was Club Flynn’s resident Air Elementals. They’re called The Three. Each were actually free spirits that love music. No one knows how they came to be here, and after they stopped a gang fight from happening in the club, so they could keep the music flowing, the owner at the time, a slag named Devon, made them head of magical security. The Three pounced on the thing. The heavy metal music must have pumped The Three up because the thing thought discretion was the better option as it left.

One of the Three, she called herself Spokes, short for spokeswoman, manifested on the physical and bent down to look at Topaz. “Are you alright?” Her voice was breathy, as befitting a manifested air elemental. Her choice of attire usually fit the music, and currently it was pure Rock Chick. Short leather skirt, shorter red t-shirt. The skirt had a thin chain looped around it and she had a dog collar on. Her blonde hair was long and flowing, as if she were standing in a breeze.

“Now…yes.” Topaz was on her knees, massaging her neck. “What…what was that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Spokes shook her head, “You are too young to know. They seek to kill everything. What I would like to know is how it got passed us.” She turned towards me, questioningly.

“Hey, wasn’t me.” I say holding one hand up, the other slipping the dagger back into its holder.

Spokes made a face, “I know that. But you have had disagreements with Aztechnology…”

I shrug, “Who hasn’t? What do the Azzies have to do with that thing?”

“Whispers upon the planes…weird dealings. I don’t know but there is a connection between the two.”

Topaz stood up, and looked at me, “I thought you said dreams aren’t indicative of the future?”

Well, at least I knew the dream now. “Noooo, I said I don’t believe it is. Entirely different. But you lived though, didn’t you? So you’re fears were unwarranted.”

The door at the back of the club opened and Chaple stepped out. Something I’ve never seen him do. Another thing I’ve never seen happen was him dragging a body out of the back. His bodyguard, a huge fragging troll named Monty, came out after him, H&K at the ready, but facing into the room. Chap saw me, and nodded me over. As I close in he drops the body. I look at the slag’s face…and a jolt of electricity burns through me. I glance at Chaple’s face, noticing the similarity. I step up to Chap, and I also note the pure emotion in his face, A third thing I’ve never seen. Okay, fourth including the…thing. Chaple speaks, mechanically, “Whisper, the run you were to be briefed on has been canceled.” He glances down at the body. “But if you want work, I want you to find out who the frag killed my…son. And you are going to return the favor.”

I bite my lip. I don’t do wetwork. “You want to return the favor, I can bring the responsible ones to you, however…”

Chaple cuts me off, “I don’t give a frag how the frag you do it. If it needs to be that way, I’ll do it my damned self. Just get the fucker.”

I nod. Sending people to their deaths wasn’t my line of work either. “According to Spokes, the Azzies might be involved.”

“I don’t give a frag if it was Lofwyr, I want them dead. Twenty Five kay. Five right now.”

That was the full price of the run I was originally here for. I glance down again, “He was the Johnson?” I ask softly, knowing Chaples augmented ears would pick it up over the din of the music.

“Still is. Run has changed. And expanded.” He lifted an eyebrow.

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, then I nod. “What do you have?”

His answer was to hand me a chip