Logs for ShadowRN and Associated Mailing Lists

From:	Sebastian Hamann <5hamann@**********.UNI-HAMBURG.DE>
Subject:	Dear Diary
Date:	Thu, 2 Apr 1998 16:37:08 +0200

Message no. 1 ***** INTERNAL: Diary_entry 01/04/59
>>>>>[These Tai Chi Chuan lessons are nice, they are really nice. And it
helps. I wonder how fast both of the lessons went on. What makes me anxious
is, that I still don't know about Kyle. Last time I felt about somebody,
what I think I feel about him now was ... long ago. But the way he moves...

Not that every body moves the same way as he does, because he shows us
these figures, but it's this special way of movement, which makes me nervous.

I think I can't even ask him some more questions, without making a complete
idiot out of me. I'll see. Bye dear Diary, bye Kyle...]<<<<<
-- Cassiopeia <16:34:42/04-02-59>

From:	Andy <alofft@*****.COM>
Subject:	Dear Diary
Date:	Wed, 11 Nov 1998 12:45:50 -0500

Message no. 2 ***** INTERNAL: Encrypted Log - Ares 1-1

>>>>>[+++++begin encryption: UCAS Hodge-Wilkins 13.4

I write this more as a historical record than anything else. The only other
possible use for these recordings will be as evidence for the prosecution in
any trial held against me. As if they would try me. I will be
supplementing the journal with headware footage that I just recently gained
access too. It took the Decker I employ all of the last six years to
decrypt the algorithmic encryption sequence that the UCAS had encrypting my
headware. I don't know whether that speaks more for the skill of the UCAS
decker who programmed it or less for the skill of my decker, but I have been
assured that she was one of the best. Oh, I should mention that she died in
the process. According to some of her decker friends, my headware was
trapped with Black IC. They called it Blaster IC (which means absolutely
zero to me), but they said she never had a chance.

I still have zero idea which UCAS agency put me together this way, and I
still remember little of any former life that I may have had. Something
tells me that when I eventually find out, I won't like the answers I get.

I'm including the headware simsense clips as part of these entries in the
event that I have another memory lapse.

+++++ begin decrypt ... splice headware memory video track 1 and headware
emotive track 1 and headware thought pattern buffer track 1 ... begin
simsense video

Consciousness, white light, pain ..... standing, stumbling forward, your
hand lashes out at incredible speed to pull the release cord for blinds
which crash into place, you catch yourself on a window sill, and the image
clears. As your view pans to the right a run down house is revealed. White
walls are covered with a dingy gray film. Blinding light slashes through
venetian blinds. The room is bare of furnishings, and smell of mold
overlaid by the musky smell of human body odor. The floor is dark hard
wood, empty except for cluttered debris in the corners. From your current
vantage point you is able to see a hallway leading off to another room, a
kitchen is closer to the side, and a sturdy door, which appears to lead to
the outside, stands to the left. Moving toward the window your dark hand
reaches up and parts the blinds slightly. You hear a slight metallic ping
as the blinds bend, and between the blinds you observe the street of a
quiet community. A palm tree stands alone on a street corner. Run down
blue houses sit in solid rows like soldiers. The streets are lined with
sand, and no grass grows in the front yards of the houses. Your view turns
back to the room. Stumbling forward you take inventory of your body.
Looking down, a muscular chest is revealed. The chest is broad and covered
with tattoos. Every muscle in your body is sore. It feels as though you
have just undergone massive amounts of physical strain. You straighten and
flex your limbs and you are rewarded with a series of loud pops as you feel
some of the tension drain from this body. Looking around you start to move
down the hallway.

You observe a bathroom on the right, and enter cautiously. Moving your left
hand towards the wall you feel where the rough paint has peeled and chipped.
As you search you are rewarded with a smooth plastic light switch. The
Light reveals a well used bathroom. The room smells of the sickening
sweetness of decay. The white porcelain toilet is cover with a green
growth. The shower is in no better condition, but the mirror and sink are
intact. You gaze upon the image of a grossly over-muscled Amerind. Your
shoulders are almost as wide as you are tall. Your skin is a well weathered
beige, and you can now see that it is not only your chest, but your entire
body that is covered with the tattoos. Your eyes are drawn toward the
tattoos. None are in color. All are simple black outlines representing a
variety of objects from native american symbols to what look like bar codes.
You are clothed only in BDU pants and combat boots, but you can imagine that
your legs are in a condition similar to that of your upper body. Your face
is plain, but not unattractive. The features are broad and strong, but the
eyes are a striking blue, obviously cybernetic. The hair is long, straight,
and black. It is bound in long braids that reach the waist and it is in
desperate need of grooming. You close your eyes and twist your head to the
side. You focus yourself and hear a crunch as you realign your vertebrae.
Eyes still closed, you take a mental inventory. Nothing. You remember
nothing of how you arrived here. One word echoes in your mind. A name.
Your name. Ares.

+++++end simsense video

Well, If I want to make Seattle by night, I should stop writing and start
moving.

+++++end encryption: UCAS Hodge-Wilkins 13.4]<<<<<

--Ares <12:19:03/11-11-59>

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