Cyber-Stalker
The day had been too slow for Miki. Her boss, the dwarf known as Sparks, had kept her back at the Wild at Heart bar all day. With the advent of the Reaper killings, people seemed to think that they were safer in public places, and that included Sparks' dingy, slightly run-down bar. Mostly people came because Sparks was able to get genuine alcohol on the black market, but now more came driven out of fear for their own safety.
This didn't help Miki one bit, as Sparks had insisted that she stay at the bar and help him deal with the extra influx of customers. As a result she hadn't had a chance to slip out and meet up with Alan and Zapper about their little investigation. It wasn't that she minded Alan helping a friend, but she and Alan didn't get many opportunities to be alone together. They hadn't taken things that far, but it still annoyed her that their quiet time was often interrupted either by Sparks or their shadowrunning employer, Mr. Johnson.
As she helped to pour out two shots of firewhiskey to an orc couple, she felt a slight pain in her back. After she finished serving the pair, she tried to rub her hands along her back and massage the painful area, but that didn't seem to be doing any good. Sparks, the dwarf whose copious amounts of facial hair made him look like a brown bush, looked down the bar at her after pouring out a pint of vintage beer to an overweight human who had been through four pints already.
"Hang in there, lass," he said, as sympathetically as his rough accent could manage. "Only another few 'ours 'til closin' time. I'm sure Ryuu'll be back soon enough."
Miki just nodded, though she didn't look reassured. As she turned back towards the bar, she noticed that sat right in front of her was a man with oriental features and a well-maintained suit. Recognising him, she quickly tried to turn around, but the man's eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw who it was.
"Miki?!" he muttered. "Miki Saegusa?!"
Miki turned around sheepishly. Sparks shot a warning glance at her, and began to reach below the bar for the shotgun he kept concealed down there.
"Kei?" she asked.
"Miki, it is you!" Kei Sung Ming responded, sounding quite excited. "I thought you were killed by the brain-blast killer last year!"
"I was... targeted by him," she quickly lied. "The killer was never caught, so I put myself in hiding in case he came back."
"Oh, I see," Kei just nodded, apparently accepting Miki's story. The truth was somewhat more complicated than that, though she didn't feel inclined to tell anyone that, especially not if they worked for a dragon like Lofwyr.
"How have you been?" Kei said excitedly. "I mean, aside from the whole 'going into hiding' thing..."
"I'm fine..." Miki muttered. "What are you doing in this part of town anyway? Shouldn't you be back in the company town?"
"I just fancied a change of scenery," Kei replied. "We were all mourning you for a good long while after you disappeared. You sure it's not safe to come back now? I'm sure Lofwyr would understand..."
Miki didn't reply, but instead just looked awkward. Down the bar, Sparks had his handle on the gun, ready to raise it if need be.
"Well..." Kei said awkwardly. "I'm actually leaving town for a week. You know, just to get as far away as possible from the Reaper for a bit. Why don't you come with me? You look like you could use the vacation."
Miki's eyes widened. She remembered that Kei had had a huge crush on her; she had noticed the looks he had given her in the office. Not a lustful look, like most; Kei seemed to genuinely care about her. In a way, it was too bad that she had to remain here and let this friendship go.
"Kei..." she stammered. "I'm flattered, but I'm kind of already seeing someone. I have been for the past year."
"Kinda... seeing someone?" Kei muttered, sounding disappointed. "Oh... Well, guess I just made a fool of myself."
"No, I didn't mean..." Miki began.
"Oh, don't fret about it," Kei replied, putting on a brave face. "Look, I'd better get going. I've got some packing to do anyway. It was just good to see you again, Miki; whoever your boyfriend is, he's a very lucky guy."
With that, Kei quickly left. Miki now felt awkward, having embarrassed Kei like that. She felt awful, having to explain to a friend she never thought she'd see again that he was wasting his energy. Sparks looked at her beadily.
"You realise, lass," he muttered, "that he can'nay go back to Lofwyr knowin' yer still alive, right?"
"I know..." Miki muttered, sheepishly. "I'll sort that out when the time comes."
As Miki stood there lost in thought, Alan and Zapper entered the bar. Zapper looked a lot better for the walk from the Medicog, and even managed to smile a little as Alan slid into a seat right in front of Miki.
"What's bothering you, love?" Alan asked.
"Oh, nothing," Miki quickly said, snapping herself out of her daydream. "The usual?"
"You read my mind, sweetheart," Alan grinned as Miki pulled out a bottle from behind the counter and handed it to Alan. As he took a sip of the brew, he turned to Zapper.
"You feeling up to doing a bit of Matrix surfing?" he asked.
"Well, I'm not feeling as queasy as I did before," Zapper said. "What do you need?"
"I want you to find out what book it was that May Stein had the code for," Alan replied. "Let's at least get one question answered before the end of the day."
"No problem," Zapper replied. "I'll see if Catherine left anything for me in her Matrix-space. I know her password, and she might have left copies of her notes in there." He stood up, and walked behind the bar to the door leading to the office. "The library requires full-immersion. I'll use the VR rig in the office."
"Jus' be careful, pointy-ears," Sparks grumbled. "I don' wanna go on there and find me space loaded with elf porn again!"
Zapper just shrugged and left through the door. Miki turned back to Alan and eyed him beadily.
"You've got to tell him sooner or later, you know," she muttered, disapprovingly.
"What about?" Alan asked, taken aback.
"About how Catherine's doctor won't treat her," she answered, furiously. The thought had slipped into her head quite by accident. "He has a right to know; you can't just leave him in the dark!"
"Alright, alright!" Alan answered, knowing better than to argue with her. "I'll talk to him about it tomorrow; it's getting late now." With that, he began to talk to Miki and Sparks about the case so far. When he mentioned Joey Falconetti and brain-hacking, Sparks began to scratch his chin and look thoughtful.
"Aye, I've heard that name before," he said. "I don' like the idea of it, meself, and if a scumbag like him's involved, it can'nay be good for anyone. I think I oughta look into this whole brain-hacking thing."
"Can you?" Alan asked. "It'd be a weight off our minds, at least."
Presently, Zapper reappeared in the bar, looking triumphant.
"Any luck?" Alan asked instantly.
"Some," Zapper answered. "I found out what book May Stein had a code for. It's one called 'A Study of Kailu-ology', written by both a Dr. Yuji Shinoda and our own President Kiryuu Knight."
"What?!" Alan asked, dumbfounded. He tried to make it sound like he couldn't believe Stein would be looking for such a thing, but he remembered the book vividly. He'd made contributions to it, and remembered when it was first published. He and Miki looked at each other.
"It's a book about the giant monsters that appeared in the late 20th and early 21st centuries," Zapper continued. "May Stein must have used this, but I guess this line of enquiry was a dead-end after all."
"Right..." Alan muttered. "Anything from Catherine's space?"
"I was right," Zapper replied. "Catherine did leave a copy of her notes on the Reaper case in there. What I didn't expect was to find an ice that looked like our friend Vincent Rigden in there. It seemed to think her Matrix space had become a crime scene. Needless to say, I kicked it's ass and got the data. There's one problem though..."
"Oh no..." Alan muttered. There was always some stumbling block along the way.
"It's encrypted," Zapper continued. "I think I know what cipher she used though, so I've got a decryption program running on my commlink. I don't think we'll get all the answers until we get her commlink back though. Besides..." He gave a dark look to the others. "I don't like the idea of leaving her commlink in Rigden's hands. The fact that he left a personal ice in Catherine's space bothers me; it's like he's trying to throw off everyone, even his own co-workers."
An 'ice' was how most people referred to ICs, or 'intrusion countermeasures'; programs within a computer network designed to protect the system from unauthorised access. They could take on many forms, and Alan didn't doubt that Zapper would find more inside the Matrix. He only hoped they didn't stop them from finding out who this maniac was.
"Listen," Alan said to everyone. "I think we should call it a night there. Tomorrow I want to get over to wherever that Watford guy lives. I can't help but feel that his death has something to do with the Reaper case; why else would Rigden be looking at a file about Hamilton's death?"
Zapper nodded, and with that Alan stood up and left the bar, walking back to his apartment. As he walked, he couldn't help looking down each dark alleyway he passed, expecting to see a glowing red light emanating from one of them.
***
"You could've told me this yesterday! What the hell's wrong with you?!"
Alan had just told Zapper about Dr. Burton's apparent refusal to treat Catherine in any way while the pair were driving to the Watford residence, and now he was regretting it. He did not doubt that Zapper's patience was being tried enough as it was waiting for news of Catherine's health, but this latest information seemed to have sent him over the edge.
"I swear..." Zapper muttered, fuming. "When I find her Matrix code, I'll show her!"
"Yeah, like that's going to help Catherine right now," Alan replied sarcastically. "You really want to risk getting not only yourself, but Catherine in jeopardy too? Pull yourself together, man, and let's just get on with finding this psycho."
Zapper just snarled, shaking his head, looking furious. Alan was afraid that he would do something stupid and seriously compromise their position. If he did and Rigden caught them, there was no telling what would happen, and how many more would die because of the Reaper.
He had decided to look further into the Watford murder, to see if there was anything that could be salvaged from that. He couldn't help but think that it was connected to the Reaper case somehow; if Rigden had made that connection, there had to be something there worth looking into.
According to Zapper's sources, Hamilton Watford and his twin brother Covington both shared a cottage just outside town. Upon pulling up to the house in their armoured truck, Alan noticed that the house looked positively pristine. It seemed the Watfords had enough money to hire good maintenance staff; he had no idea that cyber-architects could earn so much, making him wonder just how many sources their income came from. Hamilton seemed to have coaxed a lot out of the megacorporations for his services. Money would be a good motive for murder...
Approaching the front door, Alan knocked, only to find that the door wasn't locked. The inside of the house was poorly-lit, and immediately Alan feared the worst. Carefully, he stepped inside, his unique eyes giving him better vision in low-light environments. The inside of the house was certainly well-furnished, with antique clocks lining the walls and assorted other replica artefacts of Victorian design. Carefully stepping into the living room, he saw various computer servers, an antique chessboard... and a small, balding man with round glasses, a smart waistcoat and tie, a thinning white beard and a nervous expression.
"Who goes there?!" the old man called, his voice full of fear and sounding barely able to get the words across. He was holding a garden shovel, trembling from head to foot.
"Murderer!" he suddenly called. "Murderer!"
"Of the English language, maybe," Alan replied.
"Relax, sir," Zapper said, entering the room behind Alan. "We're just journalists."
"You'd better watch yourselves," the old man responded. "I have weapons here that can render you helpless!"
"Just relax, old-timer," Zapper repeated. "We're not here to hurt anybody. All we want is some information."
"You stand in my domain," the old man said, still eyeing both the elf and the mutant suspiciously. "Who are you anyway?" Alan couldn't help but wonder if the man was merely senile, rather than being frightened.
"I'm Cale LeRoi," Zapper replied promptly, "and this is my partner Mike Anderson. We're here with the Seattle Herald."
"LeRoi..." the old man muttered, holding a hand to his head. "LeRoi... I know that name..." Suddenly his eyes widened and he pointed at Zapper. "You're the one who speaks for the Reaper!"
"No," Zapper replied, shaking his head indignantly. "I don't speak for the Reaper. He just sends me letters and we print them in the news. I don't believe we've met, though... I only met Mr. Hamilton Watford."
"Oh..." the old man muttered, now looking on the verge of tears. "My poor twin brother... He'd just finished what he called the most fascinating project in his life, and then I found him! Shot dead right here in this room! I thought he'd just fallen asleep..."
Poor Covington Watford looked like he was about to break down into tears. Considering he had looked so tense before, he now looked very weak, almost pathetic in Alan's eyes. Still, he helped Mr. Watford into a chair and went to fetch him a drink while Zapper continued his questioning.
"What did the police tell you?" he asked. He was quite shocked when Mr. Watford just snarled in disgust.
"The police..." he muttered. "Bah! I'm sure they're in on it!"
"You think the police are in on your brother's murder?" Zapper asked, looking and sounding highly amused.
"It's obvious..." Watford muttered. "The way they were rooting around in Hamilton's work, kept asking for his Matrix address. They even threatened to lock me up if I didn't tell them! Still, they got nothing out of me! They took away cartons of his disks, but they won't find anything there! Hamilton was too smart for them!"
Zapper scratched his chin for a moment. He was convinced that he was now talking to a senile old fool. He gave a reproachful look to Alan as he returned carrying a mug of coffee. He set it down on the coffee table near Mr. Watford, but the old man didn't seem to notice him.
"Was the cop a guy named Rigden?" Zapper asked. If anyone in authority could inspire this amount of suspicion, it had to be him.
"Yes..." Mr. Watford replied, giving a low, bitter laugh. "I should have vaporised him! He'll get nothing out of me!" At this Alan snorted, barely restraining his own laughter.
"I'm sure he won't," the mutant muttered under his breath, smirking.
"Tell me a bit about your brother's work," Zapper asked. "For the benefit of my partner, if nothing else." That remark wiped the smirk from Alan's face.
"He doesn't know?!" Watford remarked in disbelief. "My brother was famous! He built entire worlds within the Matrix, places from history, and locations from the future! You walk through them in cyberspace like walking through the corridors of time itself! He was a genius, like Leonardo!"
It was obvious that Covington was very proud of his brother, though Alan still had to wonder why exactly someone would want him dead. Cyberspace environments didn't seem to have much to do with what was happening right now.
"What was he working on in the end?" he asked.
"As I told your partner," the old man smirked, "'Mum's the word,' as my brother would say. All I know was that it was something involving stranger research than usual. He came out of the Matrix one night and he told me he'd spent the day in a Japanese temple. That's all I can remember."
Alan sighed. It seemed this line of enquiry wasn't getting either of them anywhere. He was beginning to regret coming here, though at least Mr. Watford had put techie terms in a manner that didn't give him a migraine.
"Who was your brother working for?" Zapper asked.
"What makes you so sure that I know?" Watford shrugged.
"We all confide in someone," the elf countered. "A brother's a good place to start."
"I don't know...." Watford stammered. "Hamilton... he..."
"You alright?" Alan asked. It looked like the old man was about to keel over.
"He's dead..." Watford muttered.
"I know..." Zapper said, trying to speak in his most reassuring tone. "It's alright. You must have some way to at least find out who he was working for, though."
"I rather thought that he was protecting me," Watford rambled. "Of course, how's the killer supposed to know he didn't tell me everything? Besides, I'm trustworthy as the day is long. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone about his secret hiding places!"
"Excuse me," Alan interrupted. "What do you mean 'hiding places'?"
"You know about the hiding places, eh?" Watford stammered. "Well then, you know more than I do! Hamilton was like Leonardo! He kept his secrets well-guarded, especially the ones in his Matrix domain. I doubt even snooping journalists could find them if I could not!" With that, he gave cackling laughter and turned away from the pair.
***
"Still think there's anything useful to get from that old fart?" Zapper asked as the pair headed back to the Wild at Heart. "What a waste of time that was."
"I'm not so sure..." Alan said, thoughtfully. "Rigden certainly doesn't seem to think so. If he was willing to bully Hamilton's brother like that, then there has to be something here worth looking into. Watford was killed for a reason, and I want to know what."
"It's not getting us any closer to catching the Reaper though, is it?" Zapper snorted. "How are we supposed to know what we're looking for?"
Alan looked thoughtful for a moment, as he pulled the truck into the concealed garage behind the bar. After he had finally turned off the engine he spoke again.
"Covington mentioned Leonardo da Vinci a number of times," he mused. "Hamilton must have been a big fan of the man's work. Maybe there's something hidden there." He turned to his companion. "Go deeper into the Matrix. See if you can make any connection between Leonardo and Hamilton. Look for anything that's beyond the obvious, out of the public's eye."
Zapper groaned, looking irritated at Alan. "Alright," he muttered, "but I don't know what good it'll do." He climbed out of the truck, looking very annoyed. If Alan was being honest with himself, he was clutching at straws, but something about Rigden's persistence seemed to reassure him that there was something in this. He only hoped he was right, or he would never hear the end of it.
About quarter of an hour later, Zapper emerged from the office, looking very annoyed. Instantly Alan knew that this wasn't a good sign.
"You were right about one thing," the elf said. "Hamilton did have a private domain, using the masked tagline 'Leonardo'. You won't believe the amount of encryptions I had to go through to find it. The old man knew how to hide something on the Matrix, I'll give him that."
"I'm guessing by the fact that you look like you want to kill me," Alan replied wearily, "that there was nothing worthwhile there?"
"It was strange, I can tell you that," Zapper replied. "It was filled with books and pictures referring to 20th century Tokyo and the monster attacks of that period. I saw a scale model of what looked like the ruins of downtown Tokyo; there was a date-stamp that Hamilton had put on it of '1984'. It looked like he was recreating the ruins of that period as a Matrix environment."
"But why?" Alan muttered. Secretly, he was shocked by the date. He remembered Godzilla's attack on Tokyo in the year 1984 vividly, as that had been the first time that he had seen the titanic destroyer, the mutated dinosaur that was the bane of Japan's existence for over fifty years.
"I haven't a clue," Zapper shrugged. "Whatever it was, I seriously doubt it has anything to do with the Reaper or any other serial killers. He was probably working for some private client who had an obsession with monsters, nothing more. Let's just forget we ever started that line of enquiry."
"So what do you suggest then," Alan asked wryly, "seeing as you seem to know what we should be doing?"
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do right now, Mr. Leader," Zapper replied, making no effort to hide his disdain. "I'm going back into the Matrix and I'm going to find Joey Falconetti."
Before Alan could say anything, Zapper was already marching back into the office. Alan followed, looking most displeased. The office was a comfortable enough space, and Sparks' terminal was on the large wooden desk, complete with a virtual reality headset for full immersion into the Matrix. Zapper grabbed the headset and was about to slip it on when Alan approached him.
"Zapper, this is crazy," he stated. "You heard what that Falconetti guy was working on, and what he is. There's no telling what he could do to you in the Matrix! We need to find him offline!"
"What makes you think we'll manage that?!" Zapper stormed. "We won't manage to do anything your way; all you've done is have us chasing long-dead monsters! I'm doing this my way from now on!"
"It's still too dangerous!" Alan half-shouted, his temper now rising. "I can't let you risk yourself against Falconetti in this way! I forbid it!" At this, Zapper let out a cold, loud laugh.
"Ryuu, this isn't a shadowrun," he said, in an annoyingly sanctimonious tone. "You have no authority to push me around this time! Right now we know nothing about this, and we won't find out anything if we don't go after the only solid lead we've had. If we suddenly find ourselves facing a dragon, then you're in command again. Until then; adios. Ciao. Sayonara. Auf wiedersehn!"
Alan could feel his fist clenching. Right now he would have liked nothing more than to punch Zapper on the spot, but he knew that would just be adding fuel to Zapper's fire. Instead he settled for speaking in a low voice, "No-one likes you when you mouth off like that."
"Yeah," the elf replied sardonically. "All my psychological tests as a kid said that I didn't work well with others." With that, he slammed the VR unit over his eyes, and Alan knew he'd never get anything out of his stubborn comrade for the rest of the day.
***
Zapper had seen the Matrix hundreds of times. Ever since he was able to use a computer, he had been entranced by this world that lay within circuitry and computer systems all over the world. In the basic area, it appeared to an observer as a plain wireframe floor, coloured in a green hue with a similarly-coloured "sky" above. Occasionally lines of complex computer code could be seen littering the area, and strange lights zipped to and fro, some of them being users shifting rapidly across the Matrix to their next node. Very few, however, had seen the same depths of the Matrix that Zapper had.
Now feeling more comfortable in his avatar form – that of a cartoony green lion that was a childhood icon of his a long time ago – he zapped across cyberspace, running as many searches as possible for Joey Falconetti and his aliases. Much of what he found was stuff that he had already seen before; the various news articles about the man and his work, information that he had gained earlier from Styzyack and Sparks. Tossing that aside, he finally came across something much more interesting.
Digging much deeper into the lines of code, he found a node with the tagline of "Falcon Eddie's Realm". Reasoning that this had to be his private Matrix space, Zapper began to hack away to try and get inside. It was a very tough system to crack, as was expected of a master hacker, but it wasn't tough enough for him...
All of a sudden he felt a sharp tug on the scruff of his neck, and the entrance to the node suddenly disappeared, zooming away from him at incredible speed as if he had been pulled backwards by a jet plane. Before he even had time to think, the Matrix around him suddenly took on a new shape; that of a circus.
It was a circus straight out of all of Zapper's nightmares. He had a crippling phobia of clowns for as long as he could remember, so to find himself strapped spread-eagled to an upright table in front of a huge big top, surrounded by the most nightmarish caricatures of clowns with horribly contorted faces was almost too much for him to bear. To match this horrifying scene, the sky was a deep blood red and the area was bathed in fire and covered in skulls. A sign over the entrance of the big top read "Circus Maximus".
Out of panic, he tried to log out, but it was as if someone had shut off his failsafe programs. As he was frozen, helpless in place, a man dressed in a Victorian-style suit, complete with top hat and cape and carrying several long sharp knives, approached him with a crazy look in his eyes. He gave a low chuckle as he approached and fingered one of the knives tenderly.
"You lookin' for Falcon Eddie?" he said. Every now and then Zapper could see the skin disappearing on the man's face and being replaced with a leering skull.
"I think you got 'im!" he shouted, suddenly throwing a knife straight at Zapper. The knife embedded itself in the platform just above Zapper's right arm. He noticed that he was no longer disguised by his avatar; Falconetti had somehow disabled it.
"What the fuck is going on here?!" the elf shouted.
"Welcome to Circus Maximus," Falconetti responded smugly, "a forty gigabyte virtual playground of my own design. Pretty impressive, huh?" Zapper was inclined to argue that it was anything but impressive, but he didn't dare argue while in this position. "It's my own game room, and right now you, my snooping friend, are my new favourite toy!"
With that, he suddenly threw another dagger, barely missing Zapper's left leg. Coupled with the freakish creatures roaming the area, Zapper wasn't sure how much more of this his mind could take. Adrenaline and cyberspace were a very bad mix.
"You're called the Answer Doll," Falconetti smirked. "The idea is that I throw a knife and you answer a question. Who" – he suddenly threw a knife and came very close to skewering Zapper's head - "the fuck" – the second knife missed his left hand – "sent you?!"
The third and final knife pierced Zapper's right leg. Though it was not real, the immersion receptors made it feel real enough, and Zapper cried out as a rush of pain shot through his body. He was now beginning to deeply regret not listening to Alan earlier. Figuring that he was dead no matter what answer he gave, he blurted out the first name he could think of; the only other person that would know about Falconetti and sound plausible.
"Styzyack!" he shouted. "At the Medicog morgue!"
"Bullshit!" Falconetti shouted. "Tanya sent you!" He threw another knife, this one digging itself into Zapper's left hand. Zapper gritted his teeth, feeling virtual blood trickling out of the wound.
"I..." he gasped. "I have a friend in trouble. She needs help."
Falconetti just snorted in reply, though he now seemed to relax and put his knives away.
"I love showin' up Tanya," he said, gleefully. "First things first though, you've gotta show me what ya got in cyberspace. I'll only work with you if I know you can handle yourself."
"What are you talking about?" Zapper muttered. Falconetti just pointed to the circus. The elf suddenly felt his bindings come undone, and the hacker tossed him a pistol.
"Ya shoot a bad guy, ya get a point!" he explained. "Shoot a good guy, you lose!" He pointed towards a scoreboard just next to the entrance. "I got the high score. Beat it and we'll talk."
Zapper just nodded, though he felt he could barely stand after what Falconetti had just done to him. He limped to the entrance to the big top and stepped inside, holding his gun ready. He was certain that he would lose; shooting things was Alan's department. He knew though that if he showed signs of weakness, there was a good chance he was not leaving Falconetti's twisted world alive. So he gritted his teeth and stepped in.
The inside of the big top concealed what looked like an old-fashioned Wild West town, complete with rickety buildings, wagons and a water trough. The only anachronistic detail was the blood-red sky. As he watched, a cardboard cut-out of a man dressed in dark brown cowboy clothing suddenly jumped out at him, a gun aimed at him. In panic, Zapper shot at the cut-out several times. Though it did not return fire, there was a loud ringing noise with each hit, like a bell.
As Zapper worked his way through the town, he began to get the hang of the game. The "good guys" turned out to be scantily-clad prostitutes. Being careful not to shoot those, Zapper found he was able to score a good number of hits on each target when they appeared. Finally, as he reached the other end of the town, a scoreboard suddenly came up with the results. Zapper had beaten Falconetti's score by a good 3,000 points.
Falconetti's chuckling could be heard from close by, and as Zapper turned around he found that he was back outside the big top, with Falconetti now looking much friendlier, which somehow managed to make him look creepier than before.
"Nice shootin' cowboy!" he remarked. "I reckon you can fly with the Falcon after all. How's about we meet in the flesh?" With that, he produced a data card from thin air that he gave to Zapper. The elf held it in his hand for a moment, where it absorbed into his body, with the data now firmly imprinted in his head.
"I want to bring someone with me," Zapper quickly said. He had got this information and had nearly got himself killed in doing it. Though he hated to hear Alan say 'I told you so', he felt he at least owed him another chance.
"Fine by me," Falconetti replied. "Any friend of yours is a friend of the Falcon. I just hope he shoots as well as you. I'll be expecting you both at that address I just gave you."
With that, Zapper quickly departed from the node before the Falcon could change his mind. Emerging back in the office, he felt his face caked with sweat. Maybe he had been in the Matrix too long, but he thought he could still feel a numbing sensation in the areas where those daggers had embedded themselves in his body.
***
"I told you so," Alan stated. Zapper had just finished explaining his story to Alan about what had happened in the Circus Maximus. The mutant now had an annoyingly smug look on his face, though in secret he couldn't help but admire Zapper's sheer gall.
"Oh, shut up," Zapper muttered. The two of them had just arrived at Falconetti's apartment building deep in the sprawl. The building was a dismal heap of brick on a dark street, and as the two climbed the heavily-graffiti'ed stairwell, they passed a number of chipheads. They were so high on drugs that they had idea that anybody had passed them.
Eventually they found the right room, and the door slowly slid open to admit them. The main room of the apartment was poorly-lit and not very well-furnished; only computer servers, a bookshelf and various knives kept like trophies across one wall. In the middle of the room was a small wiry man tied to the ceiling by cables, a VR headset clamped on him. He was twitching violently and struggling against the restraints. Alan's eyes boggled at this peculiar sight, though Zapper didn't seem surprised.
"Movement in the Matrix can sometimes translate into real-world movement for some users," Zapper explained. "I guess Mr. Falconetti is one of those types. Let me talk to him first."
Alan didn't feel inclined to argue, so he wandered off to have a look at the books on the shelf, while Zapper approached the struggling Joey Falconetti. He didn't look much different from his avatar, except that his brown hair was now stuck out all over the place, more-so than Zapper's own spiky hair.
"Christ!" Falconetti suddenly shouted. "I feel like a fucking corpse!" With that, he pulled the visor off his head, panting heavily, his face coated with sweat. He had clearly been in the Matrix for a long time, for he looked like he hadn't had a good meal for some time.
"Lucky for you I had to come up for air!" he added, grinning at Zapper. "I don't know what sort of cowboy set up this rig, but it couldn't cope with the data transfer just then. No wonder I lost that fucking contest." He shifted his position so that it looked like was sitting down, still suspended by the cables.
"Alright, hotshot," he said, "what do you want?" Zapper nodded. He reasoned it best to be straight with Joey; the more he knew, the more he could help Catherine. Firstly, he wanted to know just what the connection was between Falconetti and Dr. Burton, as the hacker seemed to look on her in a none-too-favourable light.
"So how did an outlaw like you hook up with a respected doctor like Tanya Burton?" he asked.
"You mean she didn't tell you?" Joey croaked. Zapper just shook his head in reply.
"Babe's got the hots for me," the weasel-featured little man said, chuckling. "Has for years." Still looking at the books, Alan very nearly made a loud gagging sound, but held himself in just in time.
"What's your take on the Reaper?" Zapper asked. This prompted a change in Joey's personality; he now seemed to become much more attentive, and his eyes widened.
"Holy shit..." he said. "I've just realised you're the one he writes to! He's the only reason I read that rag! The fucker's incredible; he gets in there, he paints the room in blood like Jackson Pollock on crack and gets out without a trace! I'm buzzed about this psycho!" His eyes shone with hero worship, and Zapper now looked distinctly uncomfortable. Alan came over after finishing his examination of the knives and looked at him.
"You sound like his number-one fan," he said, barely able to hide his disgust.
"I can't get the guy out of my head!" Joey responded. "His stealth, his tools... I've been collecting knives for thirty years, and I don't have a clue what kind of blade he's using."
"Speaking of which," Alan went on, "what's with all the knives on the wall?"
"Well," Joey responded, "for one I'd say they're sharp." He made a sudden slicing motion in Alan's direction, though the mutant remained unfazed. It would take more than a knife to do him serious injury.
"I didn't mean that," Alan replied, coldly. "Your bookshelves are lined with books about unsolved murder cases as well, all the way back to Victorian England. What's up with that?"
"Oh, I see!" Joey exclaimed, nodding. "I collect knives, there's a serial killer loose... Knives equal killer, right? See, I heard you reporter types were smart, but you're way over my head here." He gave a low chuckle, looking highly amused. Zapper gave a reproachful look to Alan before stepping forward again. He then remembered how Rigden had tried to pin a crime on Joey, and decided to find out what the connection was between them.
"There's this detective named Rigden working the case," he said. "He won't tell us much."
"You guys have seen Rigden?" Joey replied, smirking. "Christ, he's worse than fucking criminals. I know I'd like to blow his fucking brains out."
Zapper decided not to comment any further on that lest Joey get more agitated, so he quickly moved on. He knew he needed Falconetti's help to cure Catherine, since Burton didn't seem to be willing to go anywhere on the matter, so he tried appealing to his heart.
"My friend and partner was attacked by the Reaper," he explained.
"If you're goin' through all this for a woman," Joey muttered, "I assume you're doin' her. We do crazy shit for love, don't we?"
"Yeah..." Alan muttered. "I'm beginning to think so."
"Look, Eddie," Zapper quickly said, reasonably. "Why don't you help us out with Catherine?"
"Why should I risk my ass for you?" Joey asked, looking highly sceptical.
"You could piss off your old enemy," Alan chimed in. "Rigden."
Joey sighed, leaning as far back as the harness would allow. For once, however, he seemed to be giving serious thought to the idea. Clearly the idea of getting his own back on Rigden was very appealing. Alan began to wonder just what it was they were getting themselves into.
"Here's the deal," Joey finally said. "I've been in the Matrix for eighty hours. I gotta collect from two bookies, and eat a big steak. I'm dyin' for some real food and to get these cheap-ass nutrient supplements out of my system!" He tugged at some of the cables holding him to the ceiling, which Alan now noticed were actually piercing his skin. He obviously used the nutrient tubes to keep himself conscious while in the Matrix.
"It'll take me a couple of hours," Joey continued. "I'll meet you both at the ICU later, then we'll see what a genius can do about your babe."
"Great," Zapper replied. "I'll see you there."
As they left the apartment building, Alan looked at him sceptically.
"Are you sure about this guy?" he asked.
"No," Zapper replied. "Frankly though, I reckon we don't have a choice. Looks like we've got ourselves a new partner."