>From: tracker@wpi.WPI.EDU (The Renegade Ranger)
Subject: Knock, Knock...
Date: 8 Feb 91 15:41:20 GMT

Yet another part in a flashback...
Coming soon...how to hunt down people for dollars, an educational
text...

---

 The Day walked like a tourist to its end.  Blissfully unaware that
others dwelt in its shadows, shuddered at its passing, laughed at its
back. It peeked nervously from behind a cloud, and its fears were
confirmed: it was being followed. It walked faster then, toward the
horizon line, where people waited, where there was safe haven. The
pursuing Night would not let it escape. Chase and evade, dodge, spin,
parry, thrust, hah! Small cartoon ducks would be of no avail to the
one which ran. The Day gasped, out of breath, struggling for its life.
Night was faster, sleeker. The time was ripe, the pickings were easy.
The gasping Day collapsed upon the threshold of safe haven, grasping
the horizon line. Night pounced upon it, and revelled in animal
hunger. Slowly slipping the knife from its sheath, Night slit the
throat of the doomed day. The blood of the sun slowly spilled out,
covering the sky. Night mopped up its work, and spread a cover of
darkness. Hiding. Waiting. Watching.


 "Why does it always seem to take so long for the sun to set when
you're waiting?" Zak wasn't impatient, he was just bored. The aching
sunlight filtered through the clouds in the red hues, casting bloody
shadows upon the golden letters which proclaimed 'OBERON' on the cold
gray psuedo-marble.

 "Dunno. Maybe it knows s'got an audience.." Tracker smiled briefly in
the shadows. "'Sides, maybe if we wer... Hsst!"

 By prearranged signal, they both ducked. The last of the evening
shift was departing from the building, and the grounds were being
checked. 5 guards walked about the property, picking up trash here and
there, checking one or two metal posts in corners of the property.

 "Lawn service 'r us?" Zak laughed quietly as the guards returned inside.

 "Yah, definite Mr. Green Jeans material.."

 "Mr. Who?" Zak wondered

 "Nix, ya needna worry." The grin remained, but the eyes grew hard on
the buildings sides. "Ugh, keemosabe, we go now."

 "Hi-ho silver...and credchips.."

 The two shadows stepped out of the decaffinated darkness, and walked
towards the doors. Twin ARES logos blazed from the crisp gray
jumpsuits, standard corp-issue bags slung over opposite shoulders.

 "Nothing cuts a corporate image like good corporate clothes.." Zak
casually commented.

 "Yer still not gonna tell me where you got these things..."

 "Nope." Zak grinned. With gentlemanly flourish, he opened the outer
door and let his companion pass through.

 "'K, then I'm definitely gonna tell you what that was you ate the
other day.."

 "No way...I refuse to listen."

 The corp guards at the desk looked a tad confused as the conversing
pair of ARES Computer Maintenance Division techs walked through the
doors and sauntered up to the desk. This wasn't s.o.p.. but they'd
gotten through the main area, which meant that the passive transponder
chips in the ids were valid, otherwise they would have been shredded.

 "Ummm, can I help you two gentlemen? We're on night shift, no
maintenance is currently permitted..."

 Zak stepped in front of Tracker, this was not the Bounty Hunter's
area of expertise. "I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that you're on
an isloated net, which means when central wants something fixed, we
can't do it from home. That means I've got to come all the way out
here somewhat covertly, which isn't in my contract they never said
anything about this in my contract, and fix the damn thing in the
middle of the frickin' night. So here I am, with a coworker for
protection, as if I can't take care of myself I'm not helpless ya
know, and I've got a schedule to maintain, and I need to fix
subprocessor... damn what was the number.."

 "F3, 7465-R56, The Reception transfer node, and structures board
3f543" Tracker chimed in, reading off a small sheet of paper with the
ARES corporate letterhead.

 "Yeah, them. Thanx. Now, where's the tertiary process center?"

 The Sergeant-at-arms, a burly oatmeal sack of a human being, stood
from his easy chair, and set down the soy-doughnut. "I'll need to see
your IDs, the work order, references, and then.."

 "..and then you'll have to run the ID verification through the
central loop here, compare prints, check us for weapons, run a
veracity scanner, and take a DNA sample. We know, we know... They told
us all this before. Why don't you get started, and when you get to the
point where you need us, we'll be over there reading." Zak gestured
towards the small open lounge near the front windows, flipped the two
IDs on the counter, and walked away. Tracker followed. "Oh," Zak
called over his shoulder, "Don't worry about taking a while to do it,
we can probably use it to check the schematics..besides, we get paid
by the hour anyway."

 The grinning Techs walked to the chairs, sat down over an ARES
circuit board schematic, and began chattering away happily.

 "Think they bought it?" Tracker asked, never losing his face of
concentration on the schematic.

 "No problem. They'll run the primary check on the ids, we show them
the forms, they'll get bored, they'll pass us through. The check he
was mentioning would take 1.3 hours, and they'd have to do it all.
Corps don't like hard work. Not these guys."

 10 minutes later, Zak's statement proved true.

 "All set. Come with me." The burly oatmeal man pointed a finger in
the direction of the elevators.

 "What about the DNA check? We still haven't gone through our veracity
scanner examination.. We have to follow standard procedure if we're
going to get paid.. all these forms have to be signed, indicating that
we did everything according to the book.." Zak pulled several forms
with ARES blazoned upon them out, and held them aloft.

 "They'll be signed on your way out. Don't worry, you'll get paid.
Now, this way."

 The party of three kept their scheduled appointment with the
elevator, and rode to the 6th floor. The Corp cop directed them to the
9th door on their left, and unlocked it. "Just come down, and tell us
when you're done. We'll run the other checks while you're working."
With that, he left, trudging like a grounded blimp to the elevator,
missing the groans of the cables as he stepped in, and the sigh of the
doors as the resignedly shut.

 The room was a marvel. Rows of equipment to die for... if you were a
decker. If you weren't, it was still an amusing light show. Zak chose
his position at the internal repair node, pulled up a chair, and
extracted the gleaming chrome and plasteel creaion from his bag. The
decker was in his element. Seating his six foot frame into the small
chair, he held up the plug towards Tracker.

 "Remember, watch me. If I get stuck, yank me out. And don't let nyone
or thing through that door."

 "You got it. I jes' hope that by the time you're done there isn't
something on the other side of this door with them same
instructions..."

 Zak laughed, and surendered himself to the Matrix.


	-Tracker