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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

Message no. 1
From: Justin Fang <justinf@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject: In the middle of the night
Date: Mon, 5 May 1997 03:35:40 -0700
*****INTERNAL: Vidphone call to Isao Yamaguchi
>>>>[
+++++engaging program "traceless"... successful
+++++audio-only mode, voice sythesizer ready
+++++voice stress analyzer ready
+++++dialing...

>>RING<< >>RING<< >>RING<< >>RING<<
>>RING<< >>RING<< >>RING<<

(sleepy) "Moshi moshi?"

Hello, Yamaguchi Isao.

(sleepy, turning to annoyed) "Nani? Who is this?"

You've been a very bad boy, Isao. No, don't hang up. I'm sure you'll want
to see this.

+++++play yamaguchi1.vid

"A-a forgery! Lies!"

I don't believe so. And by my voice-stress analyzer you don't believe so
either. And I don't think your superiors will believe so either, should the
entire video wind up in their inboxes in the morning.

"How did you--! Miyuki? If you're working with her, I gave her everything
she asked for. Where is she? She wasn't at the club and I can't contact
her. Why has she abandoned me? What more do you want from me?!"

Feel free to make whatever assumptions you wish, as long as you follow my
orders. For now, I only want the answer to a simple question. Your
information lead to an attempt to capture Hayashi corporate personel as well
as the deaths of several others. The operation was designed around this
particular flight, and this particular group of people. What was to be
gained by this action?

"What? Then you're not... But you can't be!"

Don't make me lose my patience, Mr. Yamaguchi. It would take no effort at
all to make your life a living hell with a single phonecall. Now forget
your concerns and tell me what you know. Now.

"It wasn't the exec, it was the two others. They're some sort of genemods.
The exec was here for a show. He gets an on-site update on the project and
takes home some 'samples' for the home office. Losing one exec for Hayashi
is...is losing one brain cell. Losing one of those...abominations, that
will hurt those bastards. But now it's too late. Is that enough? Are you
satisfied?"

What is the purpose of this project?

"I don't know! I'm not high enough, the bastards don't tell me these
things!"

Then speculate.

"To fulfill their perverted fantasies? For security applications? You've
got to believe me, I really don't know!"

You'll hear from me again in...a few days. In the meantime I want you to
gather all the information you can on this project and have it ready for me.
Oh, and don't try anything foolish like trying to trace this call.]<<<<<
-- Hayashi Internal ComNet <03:11:34/05-05-57>
Message no. 2
From: Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject: In the middle of the night
Date: Tue, 17 Mar 1998 00:07:24 -0800
*****PRIVATE: Michael
>>>>>[What happened last night? I came by late to talk, but saw you were
busy so I decided to work out for a while and take my mind off
of...things. Then I hear you screaming. After I had dropped you off at
the hospital, I pulled this from your video cam looking for answers:

+++++Begin footage

The view is of the ritual area of the Shifter's warehouse, the camera's
counter showing that it has been rolling for quite some time. Currently,
the area is decorated like a Kabbalist sanctum crossed with Da Vinci's
workshop. Scrolls and diagrams covered in Hebrew and Latin are tacked up
on easels next to complexly detailed sketches of what seem to be human and
angelic anatomy annotated and overlaid with similar mystic writings and
diagrams. In the center of the easels is a small spotlighted pedestal on
which is a sculpture of two figures standing back to back.

In the middle of the area is Michael reclined in a pool chair in the
middle of an intricate hexagram. He at first seems to be resting
peacefully, but then his brow furrows and his muscles tense. His arms
snap outstretched and spurts of blood erupt from his wrists. Crying out,
he arches his back in pain, his arms and legs pinned by some unseen force.
Blood trickles from his forehead across his face and begins to soak his
shirt from his side. As suddenly as it began, he collapses and his scream
becomes a dull moan.

There is the creaking sound of splintering wood, and WhiteTyger bolts into
the camera frame, scanning the room with bright blue eyes and catlike ears
that pivot atop his head. He is breathing heavily, canines slightly
prominent, and his bare chest is slicked with sweat and his body poised
for combat. After a few seconds, he relaxes his stance, and his ears
morph back to their usual human appearance. He slowly passes his hand
through the plane of Michael's circle, and then steps through to examine
his fellow Shifter whose breathing is becoming erratic. Kyle softly
chants and moves his body through centering motions before laying his
hands upon Michael's wounds. In a short while, Michael's moaning quiets
and his breathing becomes slow and steady.

After his healing magic is done, WhiteTyger stands and looks slowly around
the room, fascinated at the various drawings and writings. Finally he
approaches the sculpture and since the camera's focus seems to be
following him, it can finally be seen clearly. One figure is of a teenage
girl, delicately featured, with her hands folded, and the other is a angel
of similar proportions shrouded by three pairs of wings.

"You like it, Kyle?" Michael says with some difficulty, prying himself up
on his elbow.

WhiteTyger looks over at him, "Lay back down. I don't think the healing
was complete, so I want to get you to the hospital." He turns back to the
figures, "It is just that I've never seen a ritual like this...what does
this inscription say?"

When he gets no answer, he looks back to see that Michael is unconscious
again.

+++++End footage

How is your recovery? The doctors seemed optimistic. Since they have
Matrix access in the U.W. Med Center, you might receive this before I see
you next.]<<<<<
-- WhiteTyger <02:00:31/03-17-59 PST>
Message no. 3
From: Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject: Re: In the middle of the night
Date: Tue, 17 Mar 1998 13:33:34 -0800
*****PRIVATE: WhiteTyger
>>>>>[What happened?

Sorting through what details I can remember, I think I would have to sum
it up as: Never take excess bagage with you onto the Metaplanes.

It's kind of personal, most of it my own, but a little of it had to do
with the stuff with Faerie, which I want to hopefully straighten out ASAP.
And, overall, I guess I wasn't concentrating like I should have, so I got
my astral ass kicked. Damn, I feel stupid. And I really need to contact
her (not Danielle) before the height of the Equinox. But that is purely
my problem.

Thanks to you, I think I can convince them to let me out of here tomorrow,
but they at least want to keep me tonight for "observation" (and probably
to ring up a bigger bill for my insurance company). I might show up at
the party tonight astrally. It being St. Patty's day and all is something
I don't want to miss.

I owe you one.

BTW, the inscription is from Isaiah, chapter 6, verse 2. Translated:

"Above him were seraphs, each with six wings: With two wings they covered
their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were
flying."]<<<<<
-- Michael <13:33:54/03-17-59 PST>

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.

Thwap!