[Malevolence]

As the crew makes preparations, Ohanzee listens to the conversation as the team discusses their next steps.

>>@Team [Ohanzee] - In broad strokes, the plan seems as sound as it can be on such short notice. Burn the house, but spare the explosives - which means no nasty surprises for our followers, but them's the breaks. If we can make it look like an accident, or somehow implicate our pursuers so that we don't have to concern ourselves with the local authorities, all the better.

>> The RV seems a unanimous choice. We can't leave the owners behind - as stiffs or otherwise - as it tips our hand. So, we have to take them with us. I say we try the non-lethal route first - but we have to keep them from contacting anyone, so Doc's plan to keep them unconscious gets my vote. As to how to get them unconscious to begin with, I can't think of how we can do it without Doc having to face the house's WAN. We can't sneak in without dealing with it, I can't whammy them simultaneously, and so on. So, if they have biomonitors with med dispensers, I say go that route - less likely to set off their DocWagon or whatever corp equivalent they might have.

>> Once on the road, we can try to take ownership of it without the messy paper trails. And taking the snowmobile is also a strong idea. Having an outrider can be a great boon.

>> I'll offer any support I can - invisibility or a distraction or whatever.


Amid the hustle, Ohanzee notices that Wolf has de-manifested, and is resting near the roof of the house, poking is head through and looking around at the outside. He looks notably less disinterested now, and the agitation of the team is noticeable in the Astral, which might explain his desire to keep some distance. He sniffs at the air and casts a glance at the cooler that Katsina has been loading, licking his chops. He repeats this process a number of times between scans of the horizon. Ohanzee finds it curious, but just chalks it up to the steaks that were moved there from the freezer.


Ohanzee finished securing the crate - he's not sure how much longer the nails will hold, the opening and closing loosening them to the point that they wiggle noticeably as the crate shifts. He sits down next to the crate and slips focuses on clearing any astral evidence of their time here - signatures, etc. Now that he has heard them, the voices from the artifact are unmistakeable, and it takes an extra effort to block them out. He keeps finding himself trying to listen in, filter out just a single voice, then catches himself and renews his focus to block out the cacophony. Maybe sitting right next to it wasn't such a great idea.


He gets up and moves to the kitchen, grabs himself a drink of water, then stops for a second. He recalls how the team members that partook in the alcoholic beverages reported additional euphoria, seemingly proportional to their level of infection. He wondered if that was because the infection was reinforcing the behavior, or if the infection was impeded and the body felt better for it. He set the water down and grabbed a beer. Watching his aura, he drank the beer quickly. Then he grabbed the water, sat down at the breakfast table, and waited for the infection to react.

[Malevolence]

Ace finds Ohanzee and says, "Whaddya say?  Should we go make some friends?  If you can get us in the door, and I can bring them down.  Should be fairly easy lifting to get them in the RV after that."

Snapping his attention back to the world, Ohanzee stares up at Ace. He was still processing what he saw. But old habits seem to stay, even with the amnesia hiding the memory of them. A friendly face snaps into place and Ohanzee gives Ace a firm nod and a warm confirmation "Sounds good, omae."


He stands up slowly, finishes his water - when had he drank most of it? - and follows Ace out into the cold.

[rednblack]

Outside, the 2 make quick progress to the house to the north.  Ace scans the treeline for any movement, but tries to keep his head rather stationary and walks with purpose toward their destination.  "Ok, so what's the play here?  Food dispenser on the fritz?  Cup of sugar?  We just bought the cabin and want to make nice with our new neighbors?  No, scratch that, they might know the guy.  How about asking if they've heard from him?  He was supposed to show up yesterday, and the gangs all here, etc?"

[Malevolence]

"Flattery. We'll tell them we're here in advance of our host and that he said they were like the unofficial Neighborhood Watch, so he suggested we introduce ourselves before their sharp eyes noticed anything out of place. Maybe suggest that he thought they were a good source of recommendations for stuff to do while in Aspen. That should give us an in."

>> Doc [Ohanzee] Can you get a name for the couple here? Should be on the title of the property at least.

[rednblack]

Ace nods to Ohanzee as they approach the house.  "Sounds good, 'Brian.'  Ace hits the doorbell with the knuckle of his index finger -- some old, forgotten habit -- and puts on his smile.

[Tecumseh]

Ace and Ohanzee hear a genial shout of "Coming!" then a series approaching footsteps. There is a pause before the door opens, perhaps as the other party spies through the peep-hole.

The door opens. There's an older gentleman on the other side, a Caucasian human. He's dressed in corporate casual: khakis and a nice sweater over a collared shirt. He has a distinguished head of crisply-combed silver hair. He looks startled when he sees Ohanzee. The dwarf may have been too short to see through the peep-hole, or perhaps this gentleman is a virulent racist.

"Who is it?" the lady of the house calls out. She's further back in the inside, maybe in the kitchen. Ace and Ohanzee notice her leaning around the corner to see for herself. She's about a dozen meters down the entryway.

[Malevolence]

Ace introduces them to the couple as Stewart Peters and Brian Griffin. Ohanzee smiles politely while Ace explains that they are staying next door for a few days until "Joe" shows up. While the couple focuses on Ace, Ohanzee takes a look around in the astral, noting the couple's auras and making sure there would be no nasty surprises when things went down.

[rednblack]

As the door opens, Ace grasps the lapels of his jacket with his left hand in a bid to insulate himself from the cold.  Similarly, he bows each of his knees out slightly, as if he's very uncomfortable with the snow on the bottom of his shoes.  When the man who opens the door seems a bit startled by Ohanzee's presence Ace jumps in, "you'll have to excuse my associate here," he says in a slightly affected CAS drawl.  "He can be a bit easy to miss sometimes.  Anyway, I'm Steward Peters, pleased to meet you, sir.  And this is Brian Griffin.  Mr. Moran, excuse me, you probably know him by Joseph, he said that if we saw your RV in the driveway that we should come down and introduce ourselves.  This is our first time up to Aspen," Ace swells with pride a little, to show that he knows he's finally making his way up the corporate ladder.  "and Mr. Mo-er Joseph said that you might be able to give us a bit of the lay of the land, maybe recommend some good spots in town and such."

Ace lets out a little shiver, as they stand in the doorway, but stops short of making his teeth chatter.  No need to oversell it quite yet.

[Tecumseh]

He recalls how the team members that partook in the alcoholic beverages reported additional euphoria, seemingly proportional to their level of infection. He wondered if that was because the infection was reinforcing the behavior, or if the infection was impeded and the body felt better for it. He set the water down and grabbed a beer. Watching his aura, he drank the beer quickly. Then he grabbed the water, sat down at the breakfast table, and waited for the infection to react.

Ohanzee pounds a beer, wondering if he really wanted to or if some mysterious force in his head compelled him too. He considers the bottle. It's a craft beer, one of those fancy microbrews that are popular with people who have more money than they need. The bottle describes its contents as a "white ale", 6% ABV. A true corper's beer.

Ohanzee assenses himself. If he hadn't seen the nanites before then he certainly wouldn't be able to track them now; only his familiarity allows him to follow their movements throughout his system. At first, there is no response, but as soon as the alcohol enters his bloodstream the nanites spring into action. They swarm the ethanol and break it down rapidly. None of it makes it to his liver, nor his kidneys or lungs. With his dwarven constitution, Ohanzee is used to not feeling much of an effect from alcohol - especially beer - but this is indistinguishable from his water. There's no buzz - none - but yet there's a vague feeling of reward, as if he had done something healthy. His body seems pleased.


Doc hits the Matrix, rapidly pulling up public records files while Ace and Ohanzee walk next door. Luckily the Pueblo Matrix is so bleeding-edge that the information practically falls out of it. He finds the answer in a blink: NATELY EXPEDITIONS.

That sounds like a corporation, so Doc quickly cross-references it. Indeed, it is A-rated corporation, a small multinational with offices in several North American countries. A list of officers brings up one MR. EDWARD J. NATELY II as the Chairman of the Board. A quick glance through the corporate history suggests that he was once the CEO but stepped down in 2064 to spend more time with his possessions. The nature of their business is opaque but the  company seems to be very old, dating to the 18th century.

Granted that he's been retired for a while, but it seems curious to Doc that someone with (presumably) such a high net worth would be living outside of a corporate compound, or lacking in better physical security. Or is SecForce really that good that you don't need those extra steps in Aspen?


Stewart and Brian quickly evaluate the couple while Stewart starts the conversation. The woman is mostly obscured, given that she's only glancing from around a corner. What Ohanzee can see (her head) doesn't look augmented at all. Her aura looks healthy. She's curious about who is at the door, and maybe a bit annoyed by the draft. The man looks trim and fit. His stance is confident; maybe he does judo, or tai chi. Ohanzee sees cyberware in his head, which is common for corpers. It looks like older product, probably from 10+ years ago. Neither of them are Awakened, nor is there any obvious magical security. The old man is definitely suspicious but seems to be erring on the side of courtesy for now.

"Joe sent you over, did he?" the man asks. Ace and Ohanzee immediately pick up that he didn't say "Joseph". Strike one, but not a fatal error; maybe Joe's employees (?) use his full name.

"Not to be offensive, Mr. Griffin," he continues, looking down at Ohanzee, "but you don't seem like Joe's kind of people. He and I don't see eye-to-eye on the matter, but he's been very clear on his views in the past." He arches an eyebrow. Strike two. He definitely does not seem to be on the verge of inviting you in.

[Zweiblumen]

<<<@Team [Doc] Old man is Edward Nately the Second. Retired CEO of Nately Expeditions. Honestly seems a bit rich to be this far out. Been retired for 10 years now, but that's aN A-Rated corp he ran.  Careful out there you two. This guy isn't going to be a sucker by any means.
Attachment: Nately_Corp.info  Mr_and_Mrs_Nately_II.info>>>

Doc ties into the house video feed and tries to keep an eye on the neighbors.

[Malevolence]

Ohanzee pretends to ignore the comment about how Joe's racism, and instead apologizes about his clothing.

"Sorry if I seem under-dressed. I'm mostly here because I'm fun at parties." He pulls a bouquet of flowers from mid-air and after a second they explode into a brilliant, but harmless, display of fireworks. "Mostly children's parties" he adds. "I've attended Mr. Peters daughter's birthdays since she was 4. But I've never met Mr. Moran before. I won't have the opportunity to meet him, sadly, as I'm only here until tomorrow. Like I said, fun at parties." Ohanzee flashes an impish smile.

"The festivities might get a little rambunctious and " he flicks some confetti into the air, accompanied by the sounds of party favors "maybe a little strange, but we'll take care not to be too disruptive. Of course, if the daytime entertainment is half as much fun as I've heard, this group might not have the energy for much partying. So, if you have any suggestions for tuckering out a bunch of yahoo's, I'd start with those." He smiles again, then glances darkly at the snow covered landscape all around. "Though the weather might do us in before the town's charms do. I suspect that the slopes might be more of a shock than they were prepared for. It's not my place to impose, but would you mind? " Ohanzee asks as he indicates the sumptuous, and warm, space inside the cabin.

[Tecumseh]

Doc flies through the Matrix, running queries left and right about Nately Expeditions. The results are vague and not particularly informative. Some of the results suggest that they an investment firm of sorts, or maybe venture capitalists. Whatever they do, the company isn't very forthcoming about it. Either they don't need to advertise or they feel that it's below them. There are schoolchildren in their first icon-sculpting classes who have a more extensive Matrix presence than this company.


Ohanzee is a smooth-talking motherfragger. His line that he's never met Mr. Moran seems to set the old man at ease, and Ace certainly looks the part to be a coworker or other bright young corporate star. There's something about Ohanzee's force of personality that wins the man over, despite his suspicions. He steps back and opens the door wider for the pair to enter. He turns and looks back at his wife. "A friend of Joe's, Martha," he says by way of introduction. The use of the singular is not lost on anyone.

[rednblack]

While Ohanzee makes his display, Ace briefly checks the records Doc sent over.  Interesting.  North American presence, dating back to the 18th century, and then there was the flag in Moran's safe.  When Mr. Nately invites the two inside, Ace knocks the snow from his footwear thoroughly and enters first, softly whistling a few bars of "America the Beautiful," surreptitiously trying to gauge Mr. Nately's reaction.

"Thank you for your hospitality, sir." Ace says as he relinquishes his hold on the lapels of his jacket.  He takes in the foyer and living room appreciatively, and nods in respect.  "Beautiful place you've got here.  This is my first time to Aspen, but I've got to say I've been won over.  Beautiful country here.  And good people from what I can tell so far.  My daughter, Meg, who Brian here was just mentioning is absolutely loving the place.  Do you ski, sir?"  There's no irony in Ace's question.  Stewart Peters doesn't think Mr. Nately is too long in the tooth whatsoever. 

[Tecumseh]

Stewart and Brian step inside. Mr. Nately pauses by the front door, the direction of his gaze indicating that it would be polite for his visitors to remove their footwear before proceeding. Indeed, the living area adjacent to the entryway is plushly carpeted. The living room is reminiscent of an New England reading room: there are antique leather-bound books sitting on bookshelves of rich mahogany. Mr. Nately leads the way into the living room and sits in a wingback chair that may or may not be made out of real leather. The layout of the room suggests that Stewart and Brian should sit on a couch. The fabric is soft and has a certain sheen to it. They didn't know synthetic fibers could be this nice, unless it's not synthetic...

Mr. Nately arches an eyebrow at Stewart's whistling but does not comment on it. Strange thing to do, entering another man's home and begin whistling. But he doesn't seem to object either.

He answers Stewart's question dryly. "There are two types of people in Aspen: those who ski, and those who are here to be near the skiers. We are the former." He crosses his legs, getting comfortable.

[rednblack]

Ace takes in the living room in admiration.  He puts on the airs of someone not used to seeing real books, but trying desperately to not come across as someone who's never seen real books.  In fact, that may not be far from the truth.  As Mr. Nately takes his seat, Ace stays standing for a brief moment, regarding the bookcases. 

He answers Stewart's question dryly. "There are two types of people in Aspen: those who ski, and those who are here to be near the skiers. We are the former." He crosses his legs, getting comfortable.

Ace sees Mr. Nately cross his legs out of the corner of his eye, and nods to the man's response.  Mentally, he switches on his shock-hand and the synthetic jacks in his legs.  "Glad to hear it, sir, he says.  "I hope to get on the slopes myself."  Ace starts back toward the couch, but wheels on the balls of his feet and crosses the room in a flash, as he attempts to land an open-palmed strike into Mr. Nately's chest.