"Thank you for choosing Grid-Cab," the cab's voice chirped cheerfully as it pulled up to the destination. Kellan quickly pulled her stick from the slot and climbed out, hugging her jacket close against the chill rain. She dashed over to the skeletal framework of steel and ferrocrete that loomed overhead, dark against the cloudy sky.

The flickering neolux sign running up the side of the building simply said, sleep. From the outside, it looked something like a parking garage, which it was, in a way. Kellan walked up to the small booth that was protected by heavy, bulletproof plastic windows, slotting her credstick into the port. The attendant barely looked up from the tiny flatscreen on the counter that was showing a Matrix porn channel, waving her in with a distracted gesture. She climbed the metal-framework stairs to the third floor, her boots clanging on the catwalk. Stacked up in rows on either side were metallic cylinders about a meter wide and nearly three meters long. Their shapes had given places like this the name "coffin hotels," and in fact there was only slightly more space in one of the modules than in a typical casket.

Kellan stopped at number 314 and slotted her credstick into the port. There was a beep and the hatch of the module popped open. Kellan crawled inside, too tired to bother pulling off any of her clothes. She just keyed the controls to close the hatch behind her. It cut off most of the sound of the rain and the traffic from the street outside, and she stretched out on the temperform padding covering the floor. The only light inside the pod came from the phosphorescent glow-strips along the side; Kellan had thrown a black T-shirt over the small flatscreen that constantly advertised cheap sim-porn and other pay-per-view "entertainment" like the drek the attendant was watching.

Her brain was buzzing with everything that had happened that night, and she wondered how she would get to sleep. Not only had she managed to hook up with some work in Seattle on her second night in the metroplex, but an old-time shadowrunner told her that she was a fraggin' mage and was willing to teach her about using magic! Kellan daydreamed about what she could do once Lothan taught her how to control her magic. Like G-Dogg said, spell-slingers-good ones, at least-were always in demand in the shadows. If she learned from Lothan, she could really hit the big time. No more scrounging and scraping together enough cred to make ends meet.

"The big time:" Kellan murmured to herself, and she drifted off to sleep.

The insistent buzzing of Kellan's phone prodded her from sleep and she fumbled in the dimness of the coffin to find it.

"Mmm, 'lo?" she mumbled into it, and was greeted by the cheerful bass voice of G-Dogg in return.

"Hoi, Kellan," he said.

"Wha-what time is it?" she rolled over and pulled the shirt off the coffin's flatscreen so she could see the time display in the lower right corner at about the same time G-Dogg answered.

"It's time for biz," he said. The clock told Kellan it was 12:22 p.m. "I'm supposed to get everyone together for a meet tonight at Lothan's. I was heading out to talk to people and figured I'd see if you wanted to come with. Give you a chance to meet some people one-on-one rather than as a group. If you're not busy, that is."

Feeling more awake, Kellan decided it was a good idea. She much preferred to meet any potential teammates with G-Dogg to introduce her, rather than just being another face in the crowd at Lothan's. She sat up, careful not to bang her head against the top of the coffin.

"Yeah, that sounds wizard," she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

"I'll drive," G-Dogg offered. "Where do you want me to pick you up?"

Kellan gave G-Dogg the address of a nearby Stuffer Shack. He said he knew where to find it and would see her there shortly. When he hung up, she put her phone away and gathered her gear. Everything Kellan owned was stowed in a synthleather shoulder bag tucked into the far end of the coffin, or in the pockets of her jacket. She had already realized it wasn't smart to leave anything at the coffin hotel, even though she had risked it last night. They were only supposed to allow customers inside the building, but she didn't like to trust the place's lackadaisical security with her meager possessions.

I must look like drek, Kellan thought, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to tame it, finally deciding to wear a baseball cap to keep it under control. She hadn't showered since leaving Kansas City (no way would she use the communal facilities at the coffin hotel), and she had run out of clean clothes, so she was starting to stink. Hopefully, nobody G-Dogg was going to introduce her to would care. From what she'd seen at the meeting at Ebey's Bar, her hygiene was the least of the things other people would be thinking about.

A short while later, G-Dogg's Argent pulled into the tiny parking lot of the Stuffer Shack nearest the hotel, and Kellan threw out the wrapper and last couple of bites of the Nukit breakfast burrito she was eating and climbed in, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

"Ready to get down to it?" the ork asked her. Unlike Kellan, he was dressed in different clothes than the previous night, though still the same style. Kellan noted that the vest G-Dogg was wearing today contained a thick layer of ballistic cloth beneath the outer layer of synthleather.

"All set," she told him and the ork pulled the Argent smoothly out into traffic.

"Okay," G-Dogg said, adopting a tone that was all business. "Lothan chose the people he wants on the team and asked me to find out if they're interested. It'll give you the chance to meet some of the players in this town. Chances are you're going to hear about most of them sooner or later, and probably work with most of them eventually. That's the way biz works in Seattle."

"Everybody works with everybody?" Kellan asked. "So Lothan doesn't have a regular team?" Back in Kansas City, Kellan had worked with the same group of runners from job to job. Of course, there were a lot fewer shadowrunners in Kansas City than there were in Seattle, she figured.

"Well, not everybody works that way. But like I said, Lothan's not exactly a people person. He doesn't like teams. He'd rather pick his players to suit the job and not get attached. If you ask me," the ork continued, "it's a smart way to work. Regular teams are okay, but it's good when you can put together whatever sort of team you need to do the job. It's how a lot of people work around here, so you'll get used to it."

G-Dogg headed north again, picking up 405. This time, rather than heading across Lake Washington toward Council Island, he took an exit off the highway into the Bellevue district of the metroplex instead.

"Nice area," Kellan said, looking impressed by the condoplexes, many of them surrounded by private security perimeters prominently displaying the logos of security companies like Lone Star, Knight Errant and Wolverine, proclaiming to the world that the residents were better protected because they had the nuyen to hire their own private police forces. "Where we headed?" she asked.

"You'll see," he said. "This job involves moving the goods and doing it quick, so the first guy we want to talk to is our wheelman."

The ork pulled into the lot of what looked like a renovated gas station. There were three vehicle bays next to a small office with windows of tinted glass covered with blinds on the inside. Above the garage and office was a second floor, its windows likewise covered. There were no fuel pumps, but the pavement outside was covered with grease spots and the occasional skid mark. G-Dogg parked the Argent at the side of the building. He waited until Kellan climbed out before closing his door and keying the security system.