[Kontact]

"Fight them.. ha!  Ha! Haha! HAHAHAHAHAHa."  Holland fell back laughing until his form shook.  "Uhhhh.. Fight them... Thank you...  I needed that, Magic-bag.. Thank you."  Once again the elf was laying on his back unmoving.  "You have a talent for delivery son.. or.. or daughter..  It's hard to tell under that full-body condom you're wearing."

"Wait, where's the big guy with the rifle?"

[Ten-Hex]

"Ya, I'm game soon as I take care a this. I ran into a Horde ganger who needed ta commune with nature. He didn't seem ta need the resta this bike afterwards. Figured I could get some food and some cooking supplies for my 'kitchen'."

Gardener does a quick barter with the Tower squatters for some chems from the hydroponics plus passage, letting them know he'll come pick them up soon as he's back from upstairs.

Fitting his helmet back on, he ambles over to Jack and mutters, "Ya, them scavs could be jumpy all right. Got a couple armed slobs in the van. Mean drone, too. You got a redwood at yer back so long's I got a fast elf at my front."

He does a mental check of his gear, the combat load vest and slings on the Remington and Ingram shifting and readjusting to keep everything snug. He gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Ok, let's do this."

[Sentinemodo]

Code, put set the blimp to hove several floor above their current location and circle the tower sensing for troubles. Then triangulated the trolllike creature link on the trid map of the tower that the blimp has built and put a loop in the van's sensors to update the location as it moves. Then switched to the Doberman and used it speaker to transmit voice without leaving VR. "Mr Green. Can you go with us? We'll think something on the way. Guys, we'll have company two armed and dangerous just entered the building, one said he's going up looking for a brother. There must be more people like Holland here. Do you mind if I call the drone Ruckus? That would honor him?" The entire speech sounded strange to the point of creepy, voice from the combat drone, subject not obviously linked, sentenced lacked intonation, and the body of CodeMonkey was just sitting still, not even twitch of the tail.

Afterward he put the AR with visual&audio of the surrounding and sunk back to the research on Holland.

[Mindset]

A mental checklist popped into Jack’s head had as he searched for an appropriate path to ascend. He had his weapon, his associated mags, his pry bar, his head tech was working fine and he had a man-bush guarding his back. He’d gone into trouble with less. Jack took a second to orient his systems. A mental command started a chain reaction within his body as the elf flipped on all of his combat systems.

Buzzing and whirring filled his audio senses as his internal systems kicked over to active mode. His fingers tingled, the hair on his arms stood to attention and the weight on his sore feet seemed to lighten a touch. He felt his implanted systems come online and begin to settle on “full active”. His senses told him he was “switched on” and not in the strip-club sense of the phrase, when targeting data streamed into his field of vision as the targeting reticule that was being beamed onto his iris swiveled and danced over every possible target.

Tree-Man could probably feel the level of activity inside of Jack at some point in the process. His heart raced, his pheromones we literally bumping chemicals into his immediate area, and his limbs vibrated in fits of controlled seizure.  Dr. Frankenstein was a pussy compared to Jack’s cyber-doc.

“Gardie, you know anything about critters? I, ugh, forgot to mention something…. we’re probably gunna’ run into some local fauna and I’m pretty sure it knows we’re coming.”

He grits his teeth for the coming pummeling, flinches, and finally lights his cigarette.

“Yeah, my bad.”

[Xzylvador]

Devoted lets go of the dead body without struggle. His emotions had been shifting from grief to anger and determination. Digger's comment made something inside his mind 'click'.
Tyr would demand honor, would not allow fallen allies to be left behind. But he would finish the fight first. He would demand courage from his followers, bravery to fight back and see that justice would be done and this death avenged. Grief would come later.
Tyr had helped him brace his mind against the intrusion of the insect spirit, had shown that he expected strength and valor. Devoted realized he had responded to that sign of the Gods only with weakness. No more.
"You're right. Sorry. It will not happen again."
He stood there looking ashamed of himself for a second or two when Code's message shook him out of it.
Yes, I think he would enjoy shooting some more of these things. he sent as a reply.
As for Mr. Green here; do any of you trust him or a word of what he's saying?

[Crossbow]

"S'all good kid."

Digger looks at the Doberman, it was always creepy when Code did that, but when he finally had something to say, it was usually worth it.

"I think the only thing Ruckus would say to that would be to work on your aim, furball.  This is all kinds a trouble we don't need or really have much time for.  Code, can you raise Mikey and see if he can be of any use at this point or maybe get a link to those yahoos coming up?  Cuz Mama D'Angelo's baby boy is out of ideas."

Looking at Devoted he says, "There are about a million easier scams this guy could be pulling, so yeah I believe him.  I think he his bat-shit crazy and next to useless, but I don't think we are being played."

[Kontact]

Southside Chicago.  October 9th, 2072.  5:19pm - 87th floor.

"Oh!  'Mr. Green!' I like that!  I like that a lot!  No one has said my name to me in..  What year is it?  Anyway, I'd like to return the favor.  Hopefully robots, at the least, have the manners to identify themselves to someone who has saved them from blundering into a fate worse than death.  So, what is your name?  What is your quest?  How can getting me out of here help you today?"

While the strange elf was talking, Digger brought up his comm.  The auto-networking had hooked him up to the matrix through CodeMonkey's link to the satellite, giving him outbound calling capability.  He pinged out to Mike, whose deep, weathered voice promptly answered.  <<"Digger.  What's the trouble.">>


Southside Chicago.  October 9th, 2072.  5:19pm - 28th floor.

Jack had spent the past week and a half in The Greenhouse, as the local Union guys called this tower, trying to get up the fire-ruined skeleton to kill the Gargoyle which was currently laying shattered on the ground outside.  Now it was dead by someone else's hand, and he didn't exactly know how to deal with that.  He just wanted to see what was left up there and to meet the guy who'd gunned down his brother's killer in three unbelievable shots.  He needed some sort of closure.  He flexed his hand a little and thought about what that fuck-up Morgan was trying to do.  He wanted to try and ambush the scavvies on the way down, forgetting that the Gargoyle was better at ambushing then they'd ever be and that there was a damn mage up there who'd been literally swarming with spirits.  Morgan's idiot ass would have gotten them in a lot of trouble.  You can't starve out a mage, and you can't surprise one.  Even Morgan was better off beat into a coma than dead.

Gardner had never been up in this building before.  He came by pretty regularly in the past 5-6 years since they'd gotten the huge open-air lobby's built-in hydroponics working full time growing food, but as far as he knew there wasn't anything in the main building besides personal quarters.  The Greenhouse was pretty far north of the Union's main turf, which made the place a bit of an outpost for solitary traders like himself who didn't like the sense of being outnumbered one would find in a main camp.  He had to admire the demo charges on the walls though.  Nice touch for an outpost. This place wasn't going to fall into another gang's hands.

Jack and Gardner emerged from the stairway at its plateau on the ruined 28th floor, both in silence.  This was a place which demanded it.  Thirty stories of bare, swirling ironwork, like the bones of a god.  Taking in the scene, including several large craters from debris-bombs dropped today and on Jack's two previous attempts upward, the two found a black rope hanging from one of the center columns like an invitation.  It seemed the scavs were either too confident or in too much of a hurry to think to pull it up after them.

[Xzylvador]

"And how, exactly, did you save us? So far, all you've done is babble nonsense and laugh while one of us got killed by your little friends. How can getting you out help us?"

[Kontact]

Southside Chicago.  October 9th, 2072.  5:19pm - 87th floor.

The elf turned his head and looked at the young man for a moment, studying him and coming to the conclusion that the lad was actually serious, and, apparently, completely clueless.
"You've already killed one friend by being a fool.  I suggest you quiet yourself while the grown ups talk, lest you kill the rest of them.  In the mean time, please keep your eyes on the many wasps still physically throwing themselves at you.  If, for some reason, my barrier goes down, you will want to kill yourself before they reach you."

[Ten-Hex]

Gardener craned his head back, peering dubiously up the building's interior. "If a tree falls in the Cross Tower an only a wisass elf is around to laugh at it...." He pokes at the rope.

His right hand shifts back as the Ingram sling relaxes, targeting feeds coming online just in case. Let's hope the software doesn't have to rely on the "expert" system today. Goddamn cost-cutting TrumanTech simware.

"I'm open to ideas. Don't really care for this rope. Lemme know if you want me to be quiet or loud if things get squirrelly."

[Crossbow]

Digger puts a hand on Devoted's arm and steps forward again, keying open his comm so Mike could hear him.

"Well Mista Greene, I am not sure what else to tell you.  I'm Digger, we came here on a salvage mission, and we cad me across you in little magical fix.  If you kept them wasps from killing all of us like poor Ruckus then you have The Family's thanks.  I am going to assume those guys heading up aren't with you, and you really are keep that queen from busting loose, but we don't really have the mojo to help a rich and famous and powerful mage like you.  By the way sir, you might want to go easy on the kid, he is the best spellslinger you got available to help right now, I'm just sayin', no disrespect."

Digger had his hands up and talking fast while putting himself between the two, just like that time that Frank 'The Ear' wanted gut Joey Chips before the Quad Graphix job.  "This is why I stay in the sewers....I really need a drink." He thought to himself.

[Kontact]

Holand sat back up, put his hands in his lap and began speaking in an even, neutral tone.  The words rose out of his mouth as if from a pool deep inside of him.
"Hello Mr. Digger.  I understand you're not prepared for the predicament you've found yourself in, and I'm quite sorry about your friend.  I didn't know they'd woken up.  The wasps.  I do not look at them.  They get very hostile when I look at them.  They want to rip my soul from my body and carry it off to their home to feast upon it.  They are crazy.  If I die, then my soul will be torn from the Wheel of Life by them.  I can not allow this.  So I have decided to outlast them.  Has that time come now?  I can only hope so.  My existence is a constant state of pain.  A howling hunger whose mouth refuses to end.  You could never know the torture of it.  To be alone in this place is so terrible.  I try to numb myself to it.  To be not myself is the only way to exist.  They don't seem to have this problem.  They mostly sleep, the stupidest ones.  They can't even see me.  They are so dumb.  The slightly less stupid ones can see me.  They appear sometimes and I scream at them.  Ms. Busy-bee keeps them from me.  The nymph is smart enough to control them.  She knows that, if I die, there will be nothing keeping the clouds at bay.  The clouds are everywhere and will kill them all.  Your friend in the bag knows this.  They leave me alone now.   They have been, at least.  Now they are desperate for your friend.  Ms. Busy-bee will sacrifice anything to have him.  I am afraid of what might happen.  If I drop my barriers, they will come after you again.  They will kill all of you and take him.  They will break his mind open and travel the bridge through his thoughts.  She will be a queen.  Gareth's sacrifice will be for nothing.  The longer you wait, the more desperate they will become.  I do not know what they will do."

Meanwhile Mike continued to speak to Digger over his commlink. <<"Digger!  What the hell?  Did you ghost-dial me?  Is that even possible with these things?  God damn it, who the hell is talking over there and why the hell won't he shut up?!">>

[Crossbow]

Digger subvocalizes into the comm while appearing to consider hollands words.

"Jeez Mikey, have I gotta hold everyone's fraggin' hand on this job?  I am trying to catch you up while I am talking to this guy we found up here, 'kay?  You got any other assets running around? Cuz we are a bit shy at the moment, what with suddenly having to deal with a wasp hive up here and Ruckus gettin' whacked and all."

Digger suddenly looks up, "Hey is a nymph's hive easier to kill than a queen's hive?"  he asks the room in general.

[Mindset]

Jack wonders off mentally as Green Been yammers. His attention is fixed elsewhere. The structure of the building’s upper floor, or at least the ones he can see above his position, look like a mish-mash of shit conditions and passably sound ones. Jack picks up his jaw and turns back towards Gardie.

“What’s your call, my man? Upward yonder or wait ‘em out? I’m thinking they’re here for a reason. Nobody climbs this high into a crumbling sky tickler without due cause. Maybe it’s a profitable one…”

A toothy grin stretches across Jack’s face as he thinks about a possible ticket out of The Zone…or at least a decent payday. They didn’t call him Jack Thievery for nothin’.

[Kontact]

<<"...what?">>  There is a pause.  <<"Nope.  Still the same.  I keep playing it back and it's still coming out as nonsense.">>  You hear Mike sigh and go silent again.
<<"Digger, am I gonna to have to decipher exactly why you're telling me a bunch of insane shit calm as if you were ordering a pizza?  If there's something or someone controlling your brain, please keep talking to me as if you're out of your mind.  That will be the signal.  One second.  I'll call Code.">>

CodeMonkey was busying himself by piling through massive amounts of data, cross-referencing Holland, Cross Applied Technologies, Jack and a bunch of other things when Mike's call came in.  He mentally opened the channel to talk and surf.
<<"Code.  It's Mike.  Are you okay?  Digger says Ruck's dead and you're going to single-handedly attack a bug hive.  He seems to find this inconvenient with his current resources.  Does that sound about right to you?">>