NewsNet datafeed 136505
To: <<pub>>
From: Justice Department
Subject: Wanted Listings-Update 2.17.87

The following citizens are wanted for crimes against the government.
Failure to report a sighting can result in federal charges.

 "Of all the things to read on the network, you picked this?"
 "Keep going," urged Roxie.  "It gets better around line 480."
 Weiland scrolled down to line 480 and started reading again.

<<Weiland Stone>>
male, 26, hetero, disease neg, type O pos
caucasian, brown hair, green eyes, 5 foot 11, 165 pounds, medium build

<<Roxanne McCoy>>
female, 25, hetero, disease neg, type ab neg
caucasian, red hair, blue eyes, 5 foot 9, 125 pounds, medium build

Stone is a former netspy for an underground hacker organization.  McCoy is
unlicensed programmer.  Stone stole protected data files from Sugezi
Corp., McCoy was an accomplice.  Stone is charged with data fraud, data
theft, conspiracy to data tampering, and network access violations.  McCoy
is charged with conspiracy to data tampering, interfering with an
investigation, tampering with evidence, assisting a criminal, and
unlicensed programming.  Location of both are unknown.  They are
considered armed and extremely dangerous.

 "Can you believe that?" laughed Roxie.  "Armed and dangerous!  We'd be
lucky if we could get some-"
 "Shh!" hissed Weiland.  He wasn't looking at the computer pad anymore.
He heard something, like paper rustling.  With Roxie sitting still, he
could only hear the hum of the room's heater.  There, the rustling sound
again.  Roxie heard it this time, too.  She and Weiland made eye contact
across the room.
 A second later, the door to the room was forced off of its hinges by a
fusion pistol blast.  "Freeze, police!"  Weiland felt the barrel of a
fusion pistol press against his neck, cool steel almost searing his skin.
He looked up without moving his head to find Roxie lying on her stomach on
the bed; four police officers training their guns on her.
 "Put your hands behind your head," instructed the cop.  As he raised his
hands, one of the officers behind him snapped a pair of handcuffs around
Weiland's wrists.
 They stood him up, and marched him out of the room with Roxie behind him.
 "I suppose that you're going to tell me now that coming back to New York
wasn't one of my best ideas," whispered Roxie.
 "Armed and dangerous my ass," muttered Weiland.
 Roxie counted at least five cops in front of her, plus two behind her.
They led the two of them down the hall of the hotel and down some steps.
Outside, the sun was just setting and night had crept over the street.
Even though the part of town they were in was pretty poor, the street was
crowded with cars jockeying for position on the cracked pavement.
 One officer opened the side door to a police transport waiting at the
curb and shoved Roxie inside.  With her hands bound behind her, she
struggled to prop herself up against the door.  Weiland was slouched over
at her feet, trying to get himself up enough to look around.
 "This is fun."
 "How do you think they found us?" asked Roxie.
 "Somebody probably spotted our fund transfers on the net."  Weiland had
finally gotten up far enough to look out the window of the transport.
"How many of them did you count?"
 Roxie let out a long sigh.  "At least seven."
 "How are we going to get out of this one?"
 Roxie leaned back against the door of the transport.  She pulled her
wrists apart against the handcuffs, the snapped back together as if they
were bound by elastic.  "These handcuffs feel magnetic.  The door locks
probably are too."
 "So?"
 "It's been about six months since you flatlined in virtual reality,
hasn't it?"  Roxie did some quick math in her head.  "Your neural implants
should be healed by now."
 Weiland understood.  "A magnetic pulse from my ear implants.  Yeah, that
should overload all of these magnetic fields."  He swung his legs around
so he was crouching on the floor of the transport.  "You know, this is
really going to hurt."
 She nodded.  "You'll probably loose your hearing.  Stick close to me,
your equilibrium is gonna be screwed up too."
 He let out a long breath.  "Here goes nothing."  He bent his head down
and closed his eyes tightly, taking even breaths.  Slowly, he let the
implants in his ears that were used to connect him with the network build
up energy.  When it seemed his temples would burst, the implants released
a magnetic pulse.
 Roxie didn't notice anything except for Weiland slouch over and grimace
in pain.  She pulled her wrists apart, the cuffs didn't snap back into
place.  She took them off, then reached around and got Weiland's handcuffs
off of him.  Slowly, she opened the door of the police transport.
 Outside, the cops were busy trying rope off the entrance to the motel.  A
group of bums were trying to elbow their way into the entrance, hoping to
find a place to spend the night.  Roxie propped Weiland against the back
tire of the transport, then slowly opened the door to the front cab.
Sliding on her belly across the vinyl seat, she reached over to one of the
fusion pistols secured against the dash.
 Weiland was conscious, but dizzy.  As he rubbed his forehead, Roxie
returned and motioned for him to get up.  He realized that he could hear
the hum of the city, the sounds of far off cars and people.  It calmed him
a little.
 They crossed the street and tried to blend in with the crowd of night
people hustling up and down the curb.  Roxie took one look back at the
transport, and saw a single cop looking around in the front cab of the
blue police transport.  When he saw that his prisoners were missing, he
frantically scanned the street for a few seconds before running towards
Roxie and Weiland.
 "I knew it wasn't going to be that easy," muttered Roxie, spotting the
cop.  She nudged Weiland, who was still half deaf, and jerked her head
back.  He took a quick look back, and nodded to Roxie before breaking into
a run.
 He noticed that his balance was getting better as he wove in and out of
the flow of people on the sidewalk.  A blue neon sign up a few blocks
caught his attention, signaling the entrance to a MetroTube station.
 The cop saw them disappear down the steps and continued to chase.  "This
is Lt. Brockney requesting backup at MetroTube Station 4," he shouted into
his headset, but there was no reply.  Running down a flight of stairs, he
yelled for help as he passed the security checkpoint.
 Weiland and Roxie had jumped over the turnstiles at the entrance to the
tube station, and were running across the platform to a set of open doors
on the tube train.  "Stop!" yelled one of the security guards before
raising his weapon.  When they didn't stop, he fired a shot with his
fusion pistol.
 Roxie heard sound the shot echo off the concrete walls of the tunnel.
When she reached the door of the train, she turned around and raised her
gun.  Taking aim, she squeezed the trigger.
 Nothing happened.  "Magnetic pulse must have shorted it out," she yelled
to Weiland.  As he grabbed her arm, she let the pistol slip out of her
hands and drop to the ground.  Weiland yanked her inside of the tube train
seconds before the black steel doors closed.
 On the platform, Lt. Brockney reached the train just as the doors closed.
 The train slid forward on its magnetic track and disappeared down the
dark tunnel, leaving him alone on the platform with the discarded fusion
pistol.


 Weiland first noticed the cold plastic pressed against his face.  He
tried to move, but stopped as he soon as he felt a sharp pain in his ear.
He opened his eyes, but it was still dark.  As he lifted his head, he the
black plastic seat his face had been resting on came into focus.  "Where
am I?" he muttered, still groggy from his throbbing head.
 "MetroTube," whispered Roxie, not wanting to disrupt the silence inside
the train.  As he raised his head, he noticed she was sitting next to him
on the molded plastic bench.  He looked out the window, catching half
glimpses of the tube walls as they rolled past.
 The train had emptied out considerably since he last remembered in New
York.  Only one person remained; an older woman with white hair tightly
clutching a nylon bag and staring off into space.
 "Where are we going?"
 Roxie was reading an old news fax she had picked up from the seat next to
her.  On the front page was a story about a murder in Boston last month.
She paged through it, skimming the articles, ignoring his question.  "Ask
me later."
 He shrugged and went back to sleep.


 "Wake up, we're here."  Roxie shook Weiland by the shoulder.
 He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.  The temperature in the train had
fallen.  He looked out of the grim streaked windows to find the first rays
of sunlight inching across an outdoor MetroTube platform.
 "Can you tell me now where we are?"
 Roxie smiled.  "Welcome to our new home.  The fringe, section five."  He
looked out the train window a second time.  "Don't worry, it'll grow on
you."
 As they got off the train, Weiland noticed the air was different.  He
looked around the train platform as they stepped out into the open.  This
was the fringe he had heard about from his comfortable apartment back in
New York.  Wedged between the metropolitan sectors along the Atlantic and
the rust belt towns on the Mississippi, the fringe was a land in constant
motion.  Past the iron trusses marking the decent of the MetroTube tracks
underground, he could just make out the half finished geodomes of Outer
Chicago, rotting in the morning smog.
 He and Roxie made their way into the MetroTube station, a low marble
building converted from an Amtrak center.  In the middle of the central
hall, Roxie announced, "Now, we wait."  She sat down on a wooden bench,
and anxiously studied the crowd of people that flowed around them.
 "Time out!"  Weiland paced around her.  "This was your first instinct, to
bring us to the slums?  This place is dangerous, I'm surprised we haven't
been held at gun point yet."
 "Sit down," Roxie hissed.  He stopped his pacing and took a seat next to
her.  She shifted on the bench, folding her legs under her.  "I did a job
for some people from here once," she said in a half whisper.  "It was
pretty technical, but they couldn't pay me the whole sum at once.  I
agreed to give them a discount in exchange for some shelter if I ever
needed it.  Yeah, this place dangerous, but no more so than New York.  At
least here we're pretty safe from the police."
 "I though I saw Outer Chicago in the distance."
 "Yeah, were north of there.  I know this doesn't sounds good, but look at
the facts.  I'm an unlicensed programmer, and you were ousted by The
Operation a few months ago after exposing their connection to the
government.  They've probably killed Bonnie, and they won't think twice
about killing the both of us as soon as they knew we're gone."
 Weiland nodded.  "So we disappear into the night of the fringe.  Can we
trust these friends of yours?"
 "I'm not sure," said Roxie, and sighed.  "They're the only chance we
have."
 "What do they look like?"
 Roxie stood up and smoothed the pleats out of her shirt.  "You're about
to find out.  I think that's him.  Let's go."  She walked off through the
crowd, weaving her way to a hallway by a food kiosk.  Weiland wandered
around for a few minutes before following her path.
 Past the neon sign of the sushi kiosk, the crowd of travelers thinned
instantly.  Weiland found himself walking down a narrow corridor of white
brick.  He pasted a few steel doors, and turned a corner to find a dead
end.  As he started to turn back around, someone grabbed his shoulder.
Weiland tried to get a look at his face, but he was too strong.  He felt
something brush his neck, and a few moments later his vision began to
blur.  His head spun, and he had to lean against the pair of hands that
gripped his shoulders.  The man behind him set him up against the wall.
As Weiland slid down the brick, he saw Roxie slumped over on the opposite
side of the corridor, the red hair reflecting the glow of flickering
florescent lightstrips overheard.  He saw a blue derm patch on her neck
seconds before slipping into unconsciousness.


 "Anna, the woman is waking up."  The man's voice seemed to echo, making
Roxie think at first that she was in a cave of some sort.  Instead, she
lifted her head to find herself and Weiland sprawled out on a slab of
white foam.  Weiland's even breathing sounded like he was still
unconscious.
 Roxie sat herself up on the edge of the foam.  She was on a balcony
overlooking a huge warehouse, the opposite wall hidden beyond the horizon.
 It might have been night; the only light was supplied by dim lamps
positioned overhead at regular intervals.
 She could sense a large man moving around in the shadows behind her.
"Anna, she's awake.  Get over here!" he said.  A woman, Roxie presumed her
to be Anna, stepped forward into the light at the foot of the foam bed.
She was of medium height, but strong looking; dressed in green jeans and a
tight, sleeveless black turtleneck.
 "McCoy, it certainly is a surprise to see you again after all these
years."
 "Anna?"
 The woman laughed, throwing her head back.  "Yeah.  Don't you recognize
me?  I don't blame you.  Had some work done on my face in Japan.  You
like?"  She turned her head to show Roxie a profile of her face.
 Roxie smiled.  "It's good to see you again.  I need your help."  She
turned after hearing a groan, and saw Weiland waking up on the foam.  "We
both do."
 "I kinda figured.  What kind of trouble are you in?"
 Roxie sighed.  "It's a long story.  My friend here is Weiland Stone.  He
used to be with The Operation, on a strictly freelance basis.  His
girlfriend got a bit curious and almost managed to tie The Operation to
the murder of a CEO back in New York.  They took her and left him for dead
in a virtual reality node.  I got him out.  Now the police want both our
heads."
 "The police?" said the man, still behind her.
 "Yeah, that's right," said Roxie, straining to make him out in the
shadows as he circled the foam bed.  "Weiland stumbled on to a connection
between The Operation and the Population Control Agency.  They weren't too
happy."
 Weiland was awake now, groaning and turning over on the foam bed.
"Roxie?"
 "I'm here," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  "The dizziness
wears off after a few minutes."
 "You've been out of touch for a while," commented the man.  "The
Operation isn't working with the government anymore.  Broke free last
month."
 "You'll have to excuse my friend," said Anna, still standing.  "That's
Rolf.  He's in charge of security and intelligence for us."
 "Us?" asked Weiland.  "Who exactly is us?"
 "The Underground," answered Rolf, stepping out of the shadows.  His size
was the first thing that Weiland noticed; he was about six feet tall and
muscular.  He had short tufts of blond hair, and was wearing a black
jacket and black combat pants.  "They're clean," he said, showing Anna a
scanner pad he held in his hands.  "No bugs or tracers."
 "The Underground?"
 "Terrorists," whispered Roxie to Weiland.
 "Not terrorists," said Rolf, almost to himself.  "Freedom fighters.
There's a difference."
 "Well, I guess it all depends on which side of it you look from."  Anna
turned on a lightstrip on the nearby wall, illuminating the entire loft.
Except for the foam bed, there was a steel desk and a pair of folding
chairs.  Anna sat down.  "What kind of help did you have in mind, McCoy?"
 "When I did those swapouts for you five years ago, you promised that
you'd protect me if I ever needed it.  I need it now.  We don't have
anywhere else to go."
 Rolf sat down next to Anna and whispered something in her ear.  She
nodded.  "Sure, you can stay with us.  But it'll come at a price."
 "We don't have much money," said Weiland.
 "Money?  I can get that anywhere."  Anna's thin lips curled into a smile.
 "No, what I want is much more valuable.  We need someone to run on the
network for us.  Think you can handle it?"
 Weiland shrugged.  "You don't have anybody to do that sort of thing for
you?"
 Rolf shook his head.  "We did once, but he wasn't all that good.  Got
fried by a neurovirus inside a government system.  Took me two days to
clean it up."  Weiland wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.
 "It depends.  What kind of things are you interested in having me do?"
 Anna looked off in thought for a moment.  "Problem is, I don't know what
you're capable of yet.  You'd have to do a job for us first."
 "Wait," said Roxie suddenly.  "If he tries this job for you and pulls it
off, can we stay."
 Rolf rolled his eyes.  "If you pull off this job, hell, we'll start
paying you."
 Anna glared at him.  "Sure, fine.  Are you still a programmer, McCoy?"
 "Yeah."
 "Good.  We'll need your skills too.  You two better get cleaned up.  Rolf
will take you to a hotel.  We'll talk more in the morning."  She got up
and extended her hand.
 Roxie got up from the foam and shook Anna's hand.  "Thank you," she said.
 "Don't thank me yet."


 "It's nothing like those places in New York," said Rolf, opening the door
to a motel room.  "At least it's safe, which is more than I can say for
anywhere else around here."  He set down a duffel bag on the chair near
the door.  "Anna will call you later.  Don't leave here until we say so."
He closed the door, leaving Weiland and Roxie alone.
 He surveyed the room.  It wasn't much different than the place they had
been at in New York when the police caught up to them.  Twin beds, a night
table, and some decaying furniture.  The only modern looking part was a
small video panel mounted on the wall opposite of the beds.
 Weiland flopped down on one the bed near the window.  "Well, this is just
great."
 "It's not that bad," said Roxie.  She began to rummage through the
drawers of the night stand.  After a few minutes of scavenging, she pulled
out a yellowed copy of the bible.  She paged through it briefly before
throwing it back into the drawers.  "Computer, screen on."
 "It's not gonna be voice activated," said Weiland, still resting on the
bed.  "What are we supposed to do, just sit here until these people get
their act together?"
 Roxie was at the video screen's controls, turning it on.  "How much have
you heard about the Underground?"
 He sighed.  "Not much.  The Operation passed me a file once about various
terrorist groups, I think their name was on there.  Hardly any activity,
if I remember correctly."  He sat up on the bed and stared at the back of
Roxie's head.  "What kind of job did you do for them?"
 Roxie found a news show and left it on, turning down the volume so it was
barely audible.  "Just some programming.  I think they were going to use
it in custom computer deck for virus control.  Anna came to me with the
job, but she looked a lot different back then.  Must have been about five
years ago or so.  The other guy is new to me."
 "What do you suppose they want with us?"
 "I don't know."  The video screen sounded a beep, and Roxie touched a
button to answer the call.  She thought the face was Anna's, but the image
was darkened so much that she couldn't be sure.
 "OK you two, here's the plan.  Roxie, I'll come and get you set for what
you need to do.  Rolf will bring some stuff for Weiland to get connected.
Meet me in the lobby in five minutes."  Anna reached towards the screen
and then her image faded to black.