From:	Jeffrey Jacob Mach <mach@****.caltech.edu>
Subject:	Masquerade: Dead Man's Party
Date:	Mon, 19 Aug 1996 10:31:57 -0700 (PDT)

+++++INTERNAL: Di Caela Estate Security Log

>>>>>[+++++dump internal memory to: Clancy.160857.213539-234627

The scene is a mutedly raucous party, audio and video taken from the
first-person perspective of someone's eyes and ears. From the
appointments of the room and the view of the Seattle skyline available
from the open window curtains, one would guess that the party is taking
place within a titanic suite of rooms near the top of a hotel, if not the
penthouse itself. Stylishly dressed men and women of disparate ages
mingle, chat, embrace, dance throughout the room. The number of elves
among the party-goers is just enough to be surprisingly high. A synth
player ensconced on large pillows surrounded by equipment takes up a
corner of the room and provides a musical accompanyment, making the rather
large group seem all the more intimate. A man, round of both face and
body but not obese, brings the hand of a nearby woman of indeterminate age
to his lips, and bowing, dismisses himself from her and her retinue of
boytoys that prowl around her like affectionate tomcats. The man
approaches, deftly swiping two glasses from a passing tray. One of these
he passes into the hand of the person whose viewpoint this is. This hand
is a soft male one, and comes attached to an exquisite cream silk jacket
sleeve. A quick motion swirls the ice cube around a glass of what seems
to be scotch and soda. The round man looks as though this is his element
and would easily blend in had the years been slightly kinder to his body,
but that is part of his uniqueness.

"Derrick, is it?" the round-faced man acknowledges to your face, looking
up a few inches to meet it, "You're the man Hendrix has attending my
wonderful party in his stead, eh?"

A voice comes from the direction of your throat, "Yes sir. Mez Hendrix
regrets that he could not make it to your festivities, but sent me in his
stead to bring along a gift for the host, as well as to quote, 'Live a
little.'"

"Then, by all means, do so," the man encourages, one arm reaching to put a
hand on your forearm, the other flourishing to the party, "and don't call
anybody sir tonight...just look important and see if you can get some of
these nulls to call you 'sir' for a change. Live a little, eh?"

"Yes...Mr. Robertson. Do remember to check out the 'sampler' I brought.
You will approve I am sure. I placed it in the other room with the
other...'party favors.'" The man's nod comes in time with a slight twitch
in the view indicating a stiff pat on the shoulder before the man walks
off to schmooze with the rest of the crowd.

A disembodied voice comes in on a third track of sound: "Clancy,
transcribing to internal memory, supplemental. Sir, so far there has been
no sign of them, but I have been very careful with the scans." The voice
has the absurdly calm monotone of a synthesized one. The perspective looks
down at hands that now clasp in front of him. The right, from such a
close angle, can be seen to be holding some type of conformal grip
seemingly attached to nothing, pointing at the crowd. In the field of
vision are now three bars that, while low, fluctuate slightly, spiking
occasionally. The small word "TIMING" appears just below the bars and
blinks out. Instantly, a recticle appears to lock on to one of the
party-goers and her image gains a target box around it.

"I have her, sir," the voice confirms. Mostly obscured by the crowd, the
woman seems to be on the arm of a sophisticated European gentleman. The
point of view goes into motion, sliding through the crowd to get a better
look at the target and her companion. They seem to have just arrived and
are removing jackets, and in the woman's case, a shawl that covers much of
her face, completely obscuring it as it is being removed. When it is out
of the way, the image rapidly zooms in from where it is in a series of
short steps. The "woman" turns out to be a rather extensive cos-mod. Its
nose and cheeks have been artfully crafted into a feline face, ears
perking up platinum mane high on a skull covered with a platinum mane. On
the other hand, its body, sealed in a tight bodice and leggings and
wrapped in diaphanously transparent fabrics, is a tawny, curvacious woman,
albeit coated in fur as is the face. A striped tail twitches gently,
wrapping around one leg and then the other. The image snaps back to a
naturally wider, less magnified view, the eyes dart to the side as the
round-faced man comes drifting by.

The general murmur of the crowd mutes some as Robertson can be clearly
heard drawing in a breath. "Sweet Mary...!" he mutters to himself before
the gulp of him finishing his drink cuts off his voice. His moderate
girth allowing him to wade through the crowd like a cruiser among pleasure
craft, he heads in a bee-line for the targeted woman.

"The bait has been taken," placidly comments the third track.

"You must be Herr Steiner, welcome," Robertson manages to make out, but
his eyes do not stay on him for long. "When I had heard you would be in
the area, I was so hoping you could make it to my _little_ party so that
we could meet face-to-face." Scanning farther afield, the point of view
spots a woman approaching them whose clothes seem too utilitarian for the
festive room while the hearing still seems to be locked onto the
conversation.

"Louis, yes, a pleasure," Steiner responds, accented in German to match
his "your face bores me" countenance.

"Gerhard," at which Steiner's eyes narrow, "er...Herr Steiner, feel free
to call me Louie as do all my close compatriots.... And who, may I ask,
is your most exotic companion tonight?" Louie asks, the focus drawing in
on him as the approaching woman gets nearer, small beads of sweat becoming
visible at his temples.

"The frauline's name is Synthia," he pauses to allow Louie to appreciate
her, to which, the cat-girl purrs and graciously curtsies. The other
woman is soon at Louie's side and speaks into his ear, barely audible over
everything else on the pickup.

"Some sort of effect, but she's not active..." passes from the woman's
lips to his ear. This causes Robertson to stiffen some. Steiner clears
his throat.

"Ahem. I should have notified your security concerning my companion's
appearance. I have had her...'slipped into something more comfortable' as
I believe you say. Some merely use magic to flatter their own appearance.
I hope you find my choice more...appealing." Since Louis is seemingly
having difficulty remembering to not drool on himself, the momentary
silence can be taken as an affirmative. Louie's eyes follow as the feline
crosses in front of him--closer to the viewer--and motion to the female
mage.

Rubbing gently up against the woman's side, the cat-girl places her hands
on the woman's shoulder, her lips near the woman's ear. "I hope you
underrrrstand. We all do what we can to please Gerrrrhard. But perrrhaps
later when we hirrrred help arrre frrree...." the whisper purrs. "I'll be
a good girl," she promises out loud, trilling her r's and l's and tracing
a velveteen finger in an X above her heart that lightly brushes her
cleavage.

The mage is visibly confused, but in a comedic way. She exchanges a hand
signal with Louie, who responds with another in kind. Nodding, she heads
back to wherever she had come. For his part, Louie seems to move more
freely entering into an animated conversation that less and less includes
the stern Herr Steiner. At his approval, the cat girl takes to dancing
with Louie.

"From the look of them, sir. I would almost be willing to bet that the
wattage she is putting out is going to give him a heart attack before they
have a chance to kill him...." the third track voice adds, deadpan.

Clancy continues to watch them unobtrusively, disengaging long enough here
and there that a casual observer among the "beautiful people" could easily
overlook his watchful eyes. Whenever he does, there is some missing time
on the track indicating an overwrite to save memory. Eventually, Synthia
and Louie make their way over to a small buffet to the side of where some
of the most vigorous dancers entertain themselves. While he seems
somewhat interested in getting a small bite to eat, she seems more intent
on playfully nibbling on his ear from just above and behind. The first
attempt seems to make Louis' eyes nearly pop, among other things. To
avoid the unfortunate scene of him choking, she desists and comes to his
side.

"I think this may be it," inserts the voice track.

Picking up a ripe strawberry, she swirls it in some chocolate and brings
it to her lips. With a few gentle licks, the syrup is gone, and only then
does she take a bite. Another bite, and the strawberry is all but gone,
as is Louie's composure. She picks up a small bunch of white grapes and
begins to motion with the bunch as though wishing to feed it to him, but
before he can close his lips on the first grape, she pulls it up, just out
of reach. She playfully skips back a step and pops the first grape into
her mouth, crushing and swallowing it in a bite. The next she seems to be
more forgiving with, plucking it, putting it in her mouth, then showing it
to him between her teeth. She beckons him closer, tail twitching
animatedly, and leans down slightly to give him the grape with a lingering
kiss. The next grape follows suit in a similar performance while the rest
come directly from the vine.

Invigorated by this repast, Louie takes Synthia back among the dancers for
a short while, his expression becoming more and more anxious as the
minutes pass. Finally, he stops dancing and asks her something too quiet
to be heard past the music in that part of the room. Her expression stops
being as playful and she nods towards where Steiner is entertaining
himself with several ladies and looking amazingly bored. Steiner
dismisses them upon seeing Synthia approach, taking her hand when she is
close enough.

Clancy takes himself and the view close enough to where the conversation
can be overheard with enhancement. "Synthia's incredible...Herr Steiner,
what would you wish in return for allowing the two of us to...spend a bit
more time together? Name it," Louie offers, unsuccessfully trying to
contain his desperation.

"Yes, Herr Robertson, my Synthia is, as you say, incredible. Which is
exactly why I find your suggestion so completely...offensive." The last
word is delivered in casual derision, but a glimmer in Steiner's eyes
suggests that the derision is anything but.

"I mean...I mean...I...." he stammers like a spoiled child finally told
"No." "Anything...fair is fair...we're talking carte blanche, just you
let her stay with me a few days...and, ya know."

"_Out_of_the_question_." Herr Steiner's voice is now hard and tinged with
enough malice to cause Louie to back up. Strangely, he seems to almost
stumble over an obstacle that is clearly not there. "We will be leaving
now. Perhaps some day when you no longer act like a child, we may do
business. Until then." The final words a farewell, Steiner takes Synthia
by the arm and leads her out of the room, stopping only long enough to
acquire their outer garments.

"Bait and prey are leaving. Signaling now," Clancy confirms in the
internal third track. A similar timing sequence plays in his field of
view followed by the word "SIGNAL" flashing in his peripheral vision.
"Will maintain to confirm."

The view continues its surveillance of Robertson, occasionally blinking to
a new location an ammount of time passing between skips. It is watching
him dejectedly attempt to either drink himself into a stupor or entertain
himself with female companionship. However, he tires intermittently of
both in turn, eventually falling asleep on a pillowed couch. Other
partiers seem to bear enough respect for their host that they don't bother
him. After a few minutes of navigating his way over to Robertson,
Clancy's now gloved hand can be seen reaching down for Louie's. Fingers
quickly grasping around the wrist, the position is held for a moment and
then released to have the arm fall limply to his side.

"Confirmed. Target is dead."

+++++download complete]<<<<<

-- Kenneth Clancy < 02:34:53 / 08-17-57 >
External Security
The Di Caela Estate