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Message no. 1
From: K in the Shadows <Ereskanti@***.COM>
Subject: Fwd: PBEM (Epitaphs and Crossings [part 2]) (VERY LONG)
Date: Wed, 16 Sep 1998 04:20:07 EDT
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ah forget it, I'm sending 'em out anyway...folks, for those of who are unaware
of what is happening, these are the closing chapters of my PBEM that has been
ongoing for several months now (chuckle, over a year). In one form or
another, it actually been going on for some 7 years or so in the real world.
Wigs (Aaron Wigley) has the archives, and this is about as good as it gets for
us here. We'll be editing it and burning out the CD's hopefully in time for
Chrismast, but who knows.

Yes, we're CD-Archiving the PBEM, it's websites (which are now going into HIGH
GEAR for final clearing)...

So, from the farthest reaches of my heart...enjoy..

-K

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Date: Wed, 16 Sep 1998 03:34:43 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: PBEM (Epitaphs and Crossings [part 2]) (VERY LONG)
To: as-l@******.edu.au
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Snowowl is gleeming, eyes all aglow from something, some awesome little
tidbit.

Johanna will rise up enough and smell the fresh brew and something more.
Food, *real food*. And plenty of it.

But as she takes a deep wiff of the mug that is being handed to her, her own
eyes venture to the far wall. New multi-plate trids are illuminated softly.
But the information on them is explosive and mind-numbing.

Shares. Stocks. Exchanges. Names. Contracts. Maps. Demographics.
Political Files. Prayers. Dreams. Hopes.

Aztechnology's inner workings laid to the bare. The power of the drive was
awe-inspiring. Names on those workings. Matrix Signatures she doesn't
recognize and yet at the same time finds familiar.

Titan

Reflex

Dementa

Webster

Wolf

Snowowl

Ouroboros

Icepick

Names. From her past and her future.

"We're in Johanna, we're in by the Gods and the Resonance, we're in."

Yes, it seems she is. Final tallies are rolling on another screen. Total
values and their up-to-the-nano-second value.

1.3 percent share of Aztechnology.

A new chair to sit in.

Right at the table with Thomas Roxborough....

A small voice in her mind chuckles ... Shamantyr's voice she thinks ...
perhaps now you can afford to take that vacation you wanted... ???

-=-=-=-=-

Along a road side, a small hotel somewhere in South Carolina, lies a sleeping
man. His wounds healed, though pink scars are found if you know where to
look.

His gear is stowed neatly alongside the bed he rests in.

Cleaned, restored, and a few new things for the fun of it.

New credit in far away accounts, safe and secure.

A nice new car, sporty but not outrageously so, parked outside with a
comparable security to ensure it will be there when he wakes up.

New identification and papers allowing him to reside within the CAS or the
UCAS for the rest of his natural life.

Job offers to come and work for the Department of Internal Affairs for the CAS
or for the CIA, his choice if he wants to. Signed by the recently
repositioned Department Secretary, Robert Descayne of Louisiana. Personal
vouchers and thank yous from government officials concerning the return of
certain "lost properties" and the computer records of such as well.

-=-=-=-=-

Along a beach, a lone person strolls along the shoreline. He's leaving
footprints where he walks, but they are at least mundane prints this time. No
massive power flowing from or to him.

He's mortal finally. Able to live his own life.

(more in part 3)

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Further Reading

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Disclaimer

These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.