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[Synik]

The writing continues and you can't help but look. No. That can't be right. She's just written your mobile telephone number. The eyeliner pen greases its way across the last part of the page. Another series of digits. That's your Single Identity Number - a number given to you at birth. You doubt many people in the company know that. The women drops the pencil and wobbles slightly on her bottom as if trying to shift cramp. She double blinks but does not speak.

Her mobie - a cheap day-glo plastic knock-off - lies face up on the floor. It lets out a pop of static although its screensaver remains on. A whispering, gurgling sound comes out of it. The noise you remember from heavy encryption. "We are not the enemy," it says cryptically in a broken tone. "We do not want this, Mr Kell. We seek the horizon."

[Tyrion]

Jarek's finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger of his gun. An involuntary response. Not near to actually firing. More moving up a level on his own personal Defcon meter. This woman, this savant, had pulled information out of his mind and he hadn't felt a damn thing. Not even the feathery fingered touch of your average reader. The one's that skittered softly through your synapses with the subtle soft feet of a spider. Just strings of data seemingly juxtaposed onto the paper at random. But knowledge is power. And as the knowledge was specifically his...
[color=#6666CC;]"So who are you? And what is the Horizon?"[/color] asked Kell his voice as even as he could make it, whilst his eyes still searched the jumble of figures on the page looking for anything else familiar to leap out at his conciousness.

[Synik]

OOC

For the record, psychic phenomena in Dark Age isn't taken any more seriously than in our time. That said, Kell may well be thinking about conspiracy theories

"We seek the answer," replies the voice. "The answer to our riddle. We want the horizon. It is why we exist. To find the source." The mobie hisses empty static. "We are trapped. This is not our realm."

[Tyrion]

OOC

Oh, okay, sor-ree...
I kinda thought that with all the mutie types, let alone the cyberstuff, that it would be fairly common place.

[color=#6666CC;]"Yeah well, we're all lookin' for something"[/color] replied Kell deeply underwhelmed, [color=#6666CC;]"And you didn't answer either of my questions."[/color]

[Synik]

OOC

No worries. I didn't explain that bit in the background. Oops

The static rolls in waves as the bandwidth changes. After a pause, the voice says "We are. We do not have an identity. We exist only to solve. We seek the solution. The solution to tap dark energy. The zero point. The horizon."

The woman you were looking for sits in front of you. Next to this crytically irating mobie. Part of you wonders if this is some gag from head office. The mobie is something Hawks would do. Tedious moron.

OOC

Please make an listen test.

[Tyrion]

Kell gave a rare bark of laughter, [color=#6666CC;]"Is that it? Is that all? Well why didn't you say so?"[/color] shaking his head in disbelief, [color=#6666CC;]"After all you're only asking for what currently only exists in theoretical physics. Might as well just ask for the Moon on a stick."[/color] Jared cocked his ear to listen to the reply.

September 14, 2008, 3:02 am ] - Tyrion rolled 1d10 ± 8 and obtained 12 ( 4 ). Reason : perception listen.

[Synik]

There is no pause in the answer. "We have the equation. We have the power. We are close, but we are trapped. Trapped in people's thoughts and - "

The mobie's explanation is cut short by the shouts of a man's voice from the corridor beind you. "Hey, who the f*** are you man? Get your hands up! Don't twitch 'less you wanna cook your cortex!!" You hear the whine of an energy weapon being charged up. "Jo, honey? Jo?" The woman on the floor in front of you does not respond.

[Tyrion]

Not the most ideal of situations as Jared heard the tell-tale whine of the charging capacitor. It wasn't like he'd hadn't been charbroiled before. Not a pleasant experience. And certainly not one he cared to repeat. What he needed was a distraction as he felt the comforting solidity of the Mirage in his hand.
[color=#6666CC;]"She can't hear you pal. She's away with the fairies. And unless you back the hell up and put away that little pop gun you're brandishing like a pimped up phallus you might never get her back again. "[/color]
said Kell starting to turn as slowly and as non-threateningly as he could.

October 10, 2008, 12:21 am ] - Tyrion rolled 1d10 ± 8 and obtained 16 ( 8 ). Reason : fast talk.

[Synik]

OOC

Welcome back.

The guy in question looks to be in his 40s. He's of mixed race - but then isn't everyone nowadays - and is wearing combats, sandals and has a baggy coat over one arm. The holo in your executive apartment slips into your mind. This must be Haller. The energy weapon looks unpleasant and you try not to react. Is that a Farren-Cates XE9? You don't see many of those. This one's been jazzed up.

The guy doesn't move. "If it's all the same to you gato, I'll keep this trained on you until I know what's going on." He doesn't break eye contact with you to check Jo. Not a total n00b then. "Two questions: who are you and what did you do to her?"

Haller remains annoyingly out of striking distance.

[Tyrion]

[color=#6666CC;]"I did nothing to her. She was like this when I came in. And as you haven't got the decency or good manners to introduce yourself first, to be frank who I am is none of your damned business."[/color] Kell sighed, [color=#6666CC;]"But as you're the one toting the hardware... I do know who you are Mister Haller."[/color]

[Synik]

"Haller," replies the man. "Now there's a name from the past." A smile plays on his lips. "Call me Winston. Everybody does." The energy gun doesn't waiver. "I'm guesssing you're Internal Security or someone from up top. They still have access to the old records. That or your decker just hit paydata." The banter fades from his voice and he studies you. After a lengthy pause, he says: "If you didn't do this to Jo. Why are you here? You don't look like the Last Samaritan. Can I lower my gun or are we going to have one of those games?"

[Tyrion]

[color=#6666CC;]"Strangely enough Mister Haller,"[/color] Kell stressed the formality of the title, [color=#6666CC;]"I came here looking for you. It appears your activities have garnered a certain level of attention. Oops."[/color] said Kell deadpan, [color=#6666CC;]"So by all means lower your gun. Or play whatever game you wish to play. I myself am rather partial to the odd game of Go, but why you do that,"[/color] giving a nod towards the girl, [color=#6666CC;]" It don't improve her condition none."[/color]

[Synik]

Haller's eyes flicker as he decides what to do. "Jo's my son," he says. "Another victim of Number Syndrome." He looks like he's about to saying something else but he stops. "I want to take her somewhere safe and I don't want any trouble from you. I'll answer your questions, but I want you out of here. We look after our own down in the Stack."

Jo picks up the blunt make-up pen and lets it hover over the page. She draws a line through a series of numbers. Each one is a multiple of four. It ends with the digits 5 and then 6. She drops the pen and smudges out number 6.

[Tyrion]

[color=#6666CC;]"And what a fabulous job you seem to have made of that so far."[/color] said Kell with a touch of disdain in his voice, [color=#6666CC;]"To business then. Experimental weaponary ring any bells big boy?"[/color]

[Synik]

Haller doesn't rise to the bait. He frowns at your question. His eyes flicker momentarily as if he's remembering. "It all happened when that street ronin came in." He pauses to consider his options. "If you want it, law man, you're too late." He puts his other hand into his pocket. "But, if you let me and Jo go, I'll tell you where it is. Hell, I'll put you in touch with who's got it."