Marco looked troubled, and his left eye jumped even more frantically. “Why?”

“Just hold them up in front of the telecom.”

With a frown, Marco did as he was told. His hands, also coated with dusky make-up, twitched and fluttered as if they a life of their own.

“When did the tremors start?”

Marco looked down at his hands as if they had betrayed in. “Almost two weeks ago. However, it’s nothing. It passes quickly.”

Wake cursed. “Why didn’t you inform me?”

Marco shrugged again. “I told you, it’s nothing.”

Wake shook his head. “With a procedure as delicate and radical as the one you underwent, there is no room for posturing. I should have been informed immediately.”

Suddenly there was concern in Marco’s eyes, and because Wake had never seen it there before, it took him a moment to recognize it for what it was.

“Is it something I should worry about?”

Wake considered his response for a moment. “I’m not sure. I’m going to conduct a few tests with the tissue samples I took from you after the procedure. I’ll let you know if I find anything. However, for now, try to identify the times when the tremors hit, and what triggers them. That could be very important. It might be something we can easily correct.”

Marco nodded. “All right, I will. And I’ll try to find Julius again.”

Wake nodded and cut the connection.

He sat back in his chair and rolled up his sleeve again. Pulling another dermal from his desk drawer, he slid it into position next to the first.

Things are getting messy here, he thought, as the drug soothed him. He touched his screen again, and Pakow’s dark features Filled it. The man looked exhausted and wary. His thick hair was greasy, and a line of grime clung to the side of his forehead. “Pakow here.”

“We might have a situation on our hands. Go to code seven-red. We should ready thirty of the controlled troops, and bring another thirty onto standby. Deploy the hounds as well.”

Pakow’s thick eyebrows shot upward. “You’re expecting an assault?” His voice broke on the last word.

Wake shook his head, half in pity, half in disgust. “Get a grip on yourself. There’s a possibility that our friend D’imato may have led the wolf straight to our door. However, I don’t think it’s anything we can’t handle. If D’imato is correct it will be an assault of the frontal variety.”

Something very much like relief spread across Pakow’s face. “Certainly. I’ll call up for seven-red immediately.”

Wake rolled his neck, hearing his vertebrae crack back into alignment. “Excellent. I’ll be working here all night. I want hourly reports. Also, it would appear that Mister D’imato’s deterioration is progressing well ahead of schedule. I want you to run a full battery on the gene sequences we still have on him, and find out if we’ve missed something, or if his condition is an anomaly.”

“Of course.”

Wake cut the connection, and keyed his console to show him the trid views of the grounds. It would be interesting to watch and see just how effective his creations were. He smiled. This might just work out nicely.

16

After de Vries resurfaced. it became apparent that he himself had somehow contracted vampirism. It is unlikely any vampire would have willingly given him this dubious gift had he known de Vries’ purposes and identity. Some European runners claim he deliberately offered himself for infection, intent on learning more about his prey by becoming one of them. However it happened. de Vries became a paradox: a vampire who maintains his own essence by feeding on other vampires. Only in utter desperation does he prey on any other targets.

– 

Posted to Shadowland BBS by Doktor Freeman and the Deathcore Kid, 22 March 2055

Sinunu sat in the back of the stepvan, listening to the distorted rumbling of the six Honda Vikings that were acting as escort. She had no idea where the go-gangers had come from, and didn’t care. All she knew was that with the gangers riding wing, her team wouldn’t be hassled by anyone as they made their way through Hell’s Kitchen.

Sinunu looked to her left, where Truxa sat, calmly staring straight ahead. Without turning, or even seeming to know she was being watched, Truxa slipped her hand into Sinuou’s and squeezed.

Sinunu squeezed back, then turned her attention to the rest of the van’s occupants. Flak was driving, quietly cursing the swirling dust that made it difficult to see clearly, even with his enhanced vision.

Just behind the drivers seat, Sandman rested in his sway-couch seat. The seat, a circular couch made up of plastic tubing and tie-down straps, had been installed by Sandman and Flak. Once securely fastened in, Sandman could jack into their satlink system without having to worry about keeping either himself or his deck steady when they were on the fly. Sandman was riding the Matrix right now, eyes closed, mouth half-forming words as he continued his efforts to navigate the potentially lethal minefield of their target’s computer system.

Even with the codes provided by the vampire’s inside man, Sandman was having the fight of his life trying to get inside their target’s defenses. He’d jacked out, just before they started to roll, sweat streaming down his face, the strain evident in the bags already showing under his eyes. He told them the target system was guarded by drek-hot IC, countermeasures Sandman had never seen before and hoped like hell he never would again.

Sinunu, however, had caught the gleam in his eye. Sandman was one of the best deckers in the sprawl. Not only was he enjoying the challenge of this run, but he seemed almost in awe of what he was up against. If the team came out of this thing in one piece, their own defensive measures would surely get quite a boost.

Next to Sandman was the vampire. He hadn’t so much as glanced at Sinunu since their conversation and he seemed to be meditating. Sinunu knew better. After two years with Truxa, she recognized a magician’s pose when she saw one. He was looking beyond, as Truxa would say. Gathering his mojo, and discovering what needed to be done.

Sinunu noticed that she was seeing him differently now, and wasn’t sure how she felt about that. There was none of the revulsion she’d experienced before their little chat, and she even noticed a bit of sympathy.

Beside him was the biff. Sinunu frowned. The biff was everything she detested in a woman. Beautiful, yes, but with a strength to her that surprised Sinunu. That was part of the problem. For a woman of strength to bother hiding it just so males would find her less threatening made Sinunu physically ill. The biff was also a stripper, and that was another thing Sinunu had a problem with. A woman who would degrade herself in front of men just to cop a little nuyen.

The biff caught her staring, and smiled. For just a second, Sinunu felt her breath catch in her throat. When the biff smiled, it was as if the whole van lit up. That smile was so genuine, so warm, and at the same time with just enough fear behind it that Sinunu doubled back on her thinking. In that moment, she thought she understood some of the vampire’s concern for this woman. Thought she might even want to take care of her, to keep her from harm.

What’s happening to me? First I find pity for a vamp. Then I find myself liking a biff. What’s next? Open a clinic for emotionally depressed ghouls?

Truxa squeezed her hand again, and Sinunu looked at her. The little elf was watching her closely, a small smile on her delicately featured face.

“What?”

The smile widened, and Truxa leaned in close. “You can’t go through life wondering why you shouldn’t hate someone. my love. Sometimes you have to look at people and wonder why you shouldn’t care about them.”