shadowrun 16: Who Hunts the Hunter? by Nyx Smith

Author:Nyx Smith [Smith, Nyx]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction, Hard Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780451453693
Google: MWAPAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0451453697
Publisher: RoC
Published: 1995-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

"I don't believe this," she says, but then she sits again on the sofa. Definitely not the type to try making a grab for the hardcopy. In fact, she leans forward and cups her face in her hands. She seems a little upset. "Ivar, please don't take any

risks."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, but this is on my conscience," she says quietly. "I know why you're doing this, and it's not necessary. You don't owe me or Hurley-Cooper anything."

Ivar doesn't doubt for an instant that she sees it that way, but there's another side to the chip that she's not mentioning. "Way I figure, Ms. Berman, if the names on this here list got you worried enough to come to me like this, on the sly, then it must be serious, and it must be a problem for ole HC, which means it's my problem, too."

"No." Berman shakes her head. "You're wrong."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

It's probably open to debate, but Ivar ain't debating. What's the point? He's got the list and a brainwave that's set in motion, and that's all he needs.

Ivar gets the semiplas toilet plunger from under the kitchen sink and uses that to suck a pair of tiles out of the kitchen floor. The hidden space below, now revealed, is where he hides the Cruncher and related hardware, such as his toolbox. He wouldn't bother hiding things except the parole board doesn't like him keeping cyberdecks around, and now and then they send somebody around to check. Of course, nobody glued his datajack shut, or, for that matter, messed with the tech inside his head, such as his expanded memory module and advanced data manager, so the parole board couldn't have been too serious about wanting him to "stay away from computers." More like, do what you have to, chummer, but don't do anything bad. Guy's gotta make a living, don't he? Well ... anyway.

Comps is what he knows, that and not much else. Running the Matrix is probably not a good thing for him to do, but keeping Ms. Berman happy, repaying his debts, and doing what he can for good ole Hurley-Cooper, to which he pledged allegiance, seem like compensating factors.

He carries his tech back to the living room, to the SoloFendi recliner next to the telecom. As he starts hooking and plugging things up and in, Berman says, "I hope this won't encourage you to fall into old habits. You've earned a lot of respect. You've got a career now. A real future."

"Sure, I know that. Don't worry about it."

Hey, he's reformed already. He knows to stay outta trouble. And anyway he spends most of his time at Hurley-Cooper HQ inventing new and faster ways for the mainframe progs to chew on data. Maybe when he's got a few minutes to spare, he pulls out the Cruncher and blasts off into the trons just to see what's going on. Gotta keep rubbing the ole iron or things get rusty, or develop kinks, or whatever ... But he's a solid citizen now.

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