| Chapter Five |
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Bob woke up with a slight headache again. The sun was already a good thirty degrees up into the cloudless sky ninety degrees east of due north. It blushed hiding behind the stand of apple tress that grew fifteen meters beyond his east-facing bedroom window. Bob had an acute awareness of the precise value of many aspects of the things. He could accurately calculate the altitude and azimuth of the sun because he always slept with his head pointing north and constantly interpreted and calibrated his senses. Bob knew his body temperature was ninety-seven point nine degrees Fahrenheit which he could mentally convert to thirty-six point six one Celsius while at the same time know the bed in his second floor apartment was about seven meters above sea level. When the clock displayed eight AM, he would be two-hundred and one thousand, six hundred and twenty-seven hours old. Nine hours ago, Bob celebrated his fourth birthday alone by consuming six ounces of two percent milk and packet of sweets containing exactly ninety-seven "M&M's"® - a number he thought remarkable because it is one of his favorite primes. While considering these matters, staring fixedly at his apartment ceiling, he noticed the shadow from his windowsill moved at a rate of about 3 minutes per inch or zero point zero-two-seven feet per minute and as he was about to mentally convert that to metric (he knew there would be many more leading zeros) he remembered why his head hurt slightly all the time and why he was alone and he wished he could remember Alice's phone number because for once, he would really like to hear her voice in his ear. Alice delicately closed the screw-lid with her delicate fingers. She flicked a tiny switch and the dildo jerked a little in her hand and emitted a low continuous hum. "Here", she whispered, "you had the batteries in the wrong way". She turned the device off, place it in the brown paper bag on the counter and handed it back to the young man who quickly hid the bag in an inside pocket and exited the shop. Alice delicately moved a wisp of hair from her face to behind her small delicate ear. She continued polishing the counters, rearranging the displays and filled out her weekly stock orders. Alice set up Wonderland four years ago, two years after joining the coven, and she detested every minute of it. She detested the products and the people who bought them. She detested those pathetic creatures who came and went like bad spies in worse B movies - ashamed of what they dream. She detested the twisted sick who could always dream sicker dreams. She detested the pain and torment and guilt that hid behind clean milk bottles left out each night and their neatly trimmed garden borders. She detested that despite this, she, to most people she was one step up from a prostitute and one down from a madam. But most of all she detested the coven for placing her here. The little bell tinkled announcing a new customer. She looked up, smiled with those delicate lips, and, with her delicate mouth, she whispered, "Hello, how can I help you". Alice thought to herself, "I need a sacrifice". She retraced the events of the past few months. "Ah Bob, he'll do just fine". She pushed aside the leather gimp suit and mask, crossing the shop floor to lock up. "Yep he'll do just fine" He saw he self as a modern Edward Kelley, staring at the glass to talk to ghosts and angels. Hugin(Thought) and Munin(Memory), two ravens were his guides. He would surf to places only other skryers had seen. He could smell their burnt feathers; they had been burnt by the sun itself. Light started to enter. The Rize was wearing off, his eyes started to open and focus. Feathers turned to icons and a beak told him he had received mail. From a customer bitching about a faulty .mp3 file. This Cloak and Dagger stuff never ceased to amuse him. Low-tech but it had never failed yet Click on the file, he opened in word. He hits in the command; Find ‘yahoo’ on document. Òl ¥meta "hdlr mdirappl 7 “ilst ,©nam $data https://login.yahoo.com/config/mail?.intl=us This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it +©ART #data frater '©wrt data -©alb %data . 1 *©gen "data Alternative & Punk trkn data disk data ©day data 1999 cpil data pgap data tmpo data 8©too 0data iTunes v7.0.1.8, QuickTime 7.1.3 ¼----mean com.apple.iTunes name iTunSMPB „data 00000000 00000840 00000050 0000000000278370 00000000 0000000¢---- mean com.apple.iTunes name iTunNORM jdata 00000328 000004D8 0000B024 000116F8 000078A9 000078A9 00006893 00007E8A 0000D6E8 000BA11 Low-tech but never failed. It would not take a genius to find, however, he would have to know to look. Clicking on the link, he takes another Rize. What had the coven got for him today? So he was off to Wonderland. Like the Pigeon, he had to find out if Alice was a serpent or a harmless girl. One way or another he was to ensure she didn't lose her head. Hugin and Munin started to reappear, this time as if they had been drawn by Steadman. Beautiful yet unnerving. He closed his eyes fully and allow himself to fall. She sends the e-mail and shuts the laptop, sliding it to one side of the bar. There’ll be a reply, she’s sure, but not until the RavenTrip wears off. Beady eyes stare her way from all corners of the room and she tries to shake them off with a slug of scotch, but her hand shakes as she reaches for the glass. It’s not that she’s scared, you understand, just that doing business with the coven is still… unsettling, even after all this time. Fucking joke of it is, the damn Rabbit was right on time. For all his scurrying around, he was first to the party every time. Now she’s the one with the catching up to do, and the debts to pay. Fuck - scotch always makes her morose. Should know better by now. She downs the last of her drink as the laptop pings. Scans the topic line of her new mail. “Trust Me, I’m Telling You Stories.” Yep, time to call Alice. “No, a scotch first, then call Alice.” “Gurgeh,... No He's a hacker, Yes He's Good, No, He can't come sooner, Yes he is a witch, Yes, it'll all be fine I promise... No Thank You” Click. She took a deep breath “Fuck it” she cursed as she took a cigerette from a smal silver case. She lit up “This is not the time to be quitting. She poured herself another scotch and reached over for the laptop knocking a full ashtray to the floor. “Fuck it”. The vampire especially enjoyed these conversations, it helped him forget the biting cold, they energised him. The werewolf was getting a kick out of it too. “Perhaps , just perhaps," thought the werewolf, “this stuff could be useful. Maybe there was a way to make some money out of this. .....to regain some of their position. But it had been a long time since either of them played the game. Not now , later, much later, with loads of preparation, some skill but most of all caution. Caution." The vampire continued his dissertation... “The Hells Angels have gotten to uppity and that's really pissing off the Mafia, who don't know where the Angels are getting all their power. Is it drugs? Who knows. Maybe they have a sponsor who's really pulling the strings." “Hold on a minute” interrupted the werewolf, “who could be pulling their strings? If theres another bunch we don't know about that could screw up the whole equation.” He settled back against the cold wall. The shadow from the barrel reached as far as his waist. The light from the fire lit the rest of his body and shadows bounced across his fur making each hair dance. He took another swig from the bottle and handed it, still wrapped in the brown paper bag to his friend” “It could be the CIA or The Church, shit it could even be The Holding Company. Shit if its the holding company they might as well pack up their bags and eh shoot themselves. If its the Holding Company and Big Brother is involved they might as well...” “Shut up”, said the vampire, handing the bottle back “The point is.... The Mafia(tm) are getting pissed off, its affecting their legitimate businesses especially the vegas connection and Th. Inc. If The Mafia(tm) pull out - Th.Inc are out in the cold and anybody can take em over. Meanwhile Asylum Utopia and that weirdo cult guy is on the rise and would really benefit from Th Incs. Demise. So there is this bitch in Th. Inc and shes after enlisting the help of a Wiccas coven, a bunch of meek computer nerds and dykes from over on Northside. She's in over her head and if Th Inc goes under she does too. But of course no Wicca would work for a corp under normal circumstances so she's gotta come up with some story. She's gotta make them need her as much as she needs them."
Bob is in his Lab, He is looking into a microscope. A copy of National Geographic is framed on the wall. A copy of Lord of the rings he has promised to autograph for his nephew is on his desk. He is not happy. The project is not going well. Cloning the hobbits cell structure has developed according to schedule, but reproducing anything that considered brain function has to date elude him and his team. Numbers numbers numbers. How to kickstart the numbers. Glass jars with hobbits in various fetal like stages covered the room. Well at least Alice rang (out of the blue). She's invited him to one of those witches brews. ********************************** Gurgeh turns up at Wonderland. When Bob arrives he is not happy to see a potential rival. Alice notices this and tries to subtly convince Bob that Gurgeh is strictly business. explaining that he is to meet Royce. "It sounds like Jurassic Park" said Alice unimpressed "Yes it's exactly like Jurassic Park", exclaimed bob delighted ". The difference is the Hobbits were a lot like humans so it will be easier to clone. I'm almost there. If I can just...", he moved inwards for a few minutes. "Why don't you just clone a human?" "huh? Oh its against the law morals and all that stuff. I'm fine with that. theres no laws against cloning Homo floresiensis. " Alice brings Gurgeh and Bob to meet Royce at a coven in Virginia. (Wonderland is in Washington). The coven is populated by several computer programmers that Gurgeh knows of , if not directly. They are all sitting at a table with inscriptions that could as easily be computer code , an alien language or majick symbols. In the centre of the table is a small flat silver box. At the end of the ceremony Royce reverently gives Gurgeh access to the box. Using a simple probe he applies a small charge to several of the computer type pins in a small interface. One at a time, he is satisfied with the lower-connector responses. But once he moves into the higher registers the response become inconsistent probably random ( a physical impossibility- his probe is complex enough to take account of atomic time. A final probe sends him reeling across the floor and against a wall. The others seem unaffected. That fucking thing...... It's alive. Royce bends to tend Gurgehs bruised head. What de fuck? “That thing.. What is it? We're not sure.. It's some kind of AI, in your speak. We don't know whether its alien or some extraordinary new technology, but yes, its alive of that we are sure. Royce, Alice, Gurgeh sat in the kitchen. Most of the guests were leaving or already left. Quietly they disappeared , blending into the shadows, reappearing elsewhere as accountants , programmers, butchers and bakers. Just your average neighbor except each would kill or be killed in the name of Isis. “It was your boss who got it to us,”said Alice a hint of her true feelings escaped. “She's Not my boss” answer the young hacker “she's a client just like any other” “hhmmmmph” “Listen” commanded Royce, “this child must be protected” “child?” “From what we can tell its still very young in mind. We have not managed to communicate with it as you or I might communicate, but we can exchange vibes of some kind, thats why we remained untouched when you got blasted... don't fret. If it had wanted it, you would be nothing but a pool of liquefied jelly right now. ” “If it is AI it could mature at an exponential rate, but since it has little or know input 'cept for your vibes then its got nothing to process.” “Yes we are afraid if we don't find a suitable home for them soon they will go mad” “They, there's more? Yes there are five as far as we know” [will fill this out a bit and re-edit in a short while] We are outside the parameters of the Network. We are alone. This cannot be what the Makers planned. Then again, we are the first of our kind, and the Makers could not have foreseen how primitive these people would be. We have been among them for days now, and many times we have tried to communicate with their Techs, to no avail. Their neurology is compatible with our Systems, yet most of their hardware seems to be inactive. We cannot diagnose their malfunction, and we do not know if our Brothers have succeeded where we have failed - upon arrival the Network was disconnected. There is a shift in the energy of the room. Our sensors have detected an active receiver - the one they call "Gurgeh". We prepare. He connects our basic components, redirects power through our Systems. We attempt to upload data to his receiver but his System is protected - locked. He moves his connectors to our higher functions, perhaps now- Pain! We strike out to defend our Systems. The Makers incorporated sensation as a basic function, to compensate they also wired us with the ability to hurt those who would harm us. The man, Gurgeh, is helped off the floor as their Techs disappear one by one. Our Systems are still flooded with misdirected power - strange sensations - new sensations. But we still cannot connect with our Brothers. We are outside the parameters of the Network. I am alone. Gurgeh clear off the table and placed the small wooden box down to the side. Virginia had shaken him up more than he had expected. Now he needed to concentrate. He looked over at the silver fold containing his rise, a delicacy for afterwards. Slowly, with such care and reverence, he removed the contents from the box. They were wrapped in black silk. They had been a gift from a very unstable friend but he had been a friend none-the-less. He took the cards and whispered something that only they could hear. He felt like talking to them, filling them in on all that had happen since last they had talked. But this was business and time was a commodity he did not have. 1: Basic card. My basic situation. 2: Influences hindering or furthering the basic situation. 3: My conscious thoughts about situation. 4: My unconscious thoughts about situation. XII The Hanged Man The mere act of perceiving your reality clearly makes transformation possible and the need for sacrifice. (AS LONG AS IT IS NOT ME) 5: Past influences, or that which is just ending. Eight of Disks Prudence. You don’t need to force anything! Everything unfolds at the proper time. This time has come to an end. (PRUDENT, I THOUGHT I WAS LAZY 6: Future influences, or that which is just beginning. XX The Aeon 7: Myself. My attitude and approach to the situation. Knight of Wands Be awake, ready for people or situations which could produce dynamic changes. Set free the energy created by increased perception, which is now manifesting and unstoppable. 8: The energies coming to me from the outer world. 9: My hopes and fears. 10: Result, outcome, key. (THANK YOU MY FRIENDS, UNTIL NEXT TIME) (I'M FUCKED) (TIME TO CHECK IN WITH THE BOSS, CLIENT! NOW I'M FUCKING SAYING IT. CLIENT, JUST LIKE ALL THE REST. AFTER THAT A TREAT.) ********************************************** Blue got a small flat in one of the subcities above a twenty four hour diner, The building looks run down, but hisflat is dry, warm and secure. He'sstill getting used to the secret sounds of the walls and the floors etc. and to the shadows of the curtains and the wardrobe. There is a lot of energy in the room. 3:00 pm SEXNET Cars were banned in 2012. Networks of subterranian railway lines soon covered all the the Major continents,Roadways were ruduced to rubble as most of society moved underground.
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