[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

Patrick


"I'm not saying kidnapping. Unless absolutely necessary with no other choice. I'm thinking more a 'come with us if you want to live', kind of thing," Patrick says, both eyebrows raised in study of Athena, and thought. "Even with the world turned on its head, I'm not going to say 'oh, boo hoo, she can't make a choice so we have to let the bad guys have her'. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do, but not before ruling out every possible alternative option. And I'm not suggesting that anyway."


He pauses, sighs, then shakes his head. "What I'm suggesting is that one of us - probably Kase, 'cause, no offence, I'm betting I'm the better driver of us - makes contact with her, talks with her, tells her this is the way the world ends and all that jazz. Then once - alright, if - she says she's coming with us, the hot car pulls in in such a way that she can slip into either car with one move - maybe we make it look like a minor accident of some sort to make it convincing. Then we both pull away, and they have to pick which car to follow. If they choose wrong, bully for them. If they choose right," and here he smirks a bit, "well, I've always wanted to see what a 'Vette can do when you open it all the way up."
 
"...I'm both intrigued and terrified at the same time at the notion," Kase said. "About the car thing, I mean. Making contact with her, that I can do."
 
Erin


The smooth modulation of the voice cracks, and the speaker snaps. "There is one very significant difference between myself and the Castle. If you need help figuring it out, why don't you call and ask anyone who you've ever loved!?" There is a sudden, heavy click, like a phone being slammed into its cradle. Then your father's voice returns, "Hello? Erin? Did you hang up on me, little lady?"
 
Patrick, Kase


Athena does not look convinced. "Sir, that is the top of a slippery slope, from which I have seen very few people climb after slipping. Understand that in our line of work, every choice is a crisis. Every moment is frequently balanced on the knife edge between life and death. It is very easy to be moved by the severity of the situation, but against that, as well as our adversaries, we must be on constant guard. I will not, now or ever again, condone taking someone's freewill from them. It was a mistake the world paid for."


Bob looks somewhat less principled. While Athena's talking he pantomimes clocking someone on the head and chucking them into a car trunk. Bob would be really good at charades. Athena scowls at him, but turns her attention back to you.


"Still, do not forget that we always have control over our own choices. While you can't make Erin, for that's her name, by the way, Erin Hagens, Erin's choices for her, you may apply the test. It consists only of spinning the marble and dropping it. It will roll directly towards the nearest person with destiny, and the trivial nature of it will probably escape notice. Though you should probably stay a good distance away, else will it simply chase you. And if she is acknowledge by the stone but refuses to come with us, then we will do what is right and damn the cost.


Then, not to dwell on the conflict, she agrees, "Your plan does have merit though. I'm sure we can get your vehicle ready and operating quite quickly, as well as modified if necessary. Lace?"


Lace smiles faintly and shrugs self-depreciatingly. "Who do you want to outrun?"


Bob adds, "Kase, you should be fine making contact. You saw how we did it for you, and in all likelihood, this Erin will not be in nearly the danger you were. She's probably sitting at home now, watching TV. You shouldn't have any problems."
 
Erin Hagens


Erin swallows. The hot flush of rage and terror racing through her veins a moment ago is gone, leaving a sense of nausea in its place.


“No, Dad, I didn’t. Somebody cut off our call for a minute,†she says. “Look, I can’t talk any longer, the call’s been traced. I’ve got to go. Just…remember what I said, and be careful, okay? Love you…â€


She hangs up the phone. No point in calling her mother now. She will just have to hope Paulette Hagens’ government job makes her a less tempting target.


Shouldering her bag, Erin sets off towards the tiny local library branch. Her head is whirling with contradictions. The Castle’s words were warm, comforting and…evoked an odd sense of familiarity, though she can’t imagine the reason why. Yet the Castle also employs the Rooster, who so casually snuffs out lives. The Thousand Singing Voices -- what bizarre handles these people use! -- has contacted her only to threaten and coerce her, claiming a moral superiority that rings hollow.


But, her family is alive.


For now.
 
Erin


The public library is one of those small, modern things. The old library was torn down a few years ago, and this one has bits of construction not yet finished. One wing is taped off from the public. From the main entrance way you can see the stacks to the right, an open area for reading and working directly ahead, and up a staircase to the left is the computer labs. There are a couple of mild looking attendants monitoring the checkout desk while sorting books. There don't seem to be many patrons here, which is a little odd. It is after school and there isn't much else to do in Nags Head during the off season. You'd think a school club or something would be around. Never-the-less, you've got the place mostly to yourself.
 
Erin heads up to the computer lab and logs in as a guest -- this doesn't give her very much time, but college and then the Griffith-Gadman-Milton Law Firm have taught her how to work quickly. Pulling out the dossier on the woman calling herself Stephanie Whitfield, she begins her research.
 
I rolled Int + Inv. + Research for you to save time.


Erin


It takes you a while, not the least because the biology technobabble has to be researched in turn. In fact you're wrapping up your first block of work when the computer time dialogue box pops up, "You're running out of time, Erin. Please press 'yes' to extend your computer time indefinitely."


But it doesn't say anything else. There are no words from Castle or Rooster, and the library remains quiet. After returning to your research, you find some interesting things.


Ms Whitfield was mostly interested in people she refers to as 'SW' phenotypes, the meaning of which you can't find. She hypothesized that in spite of evolutionary theory, certain traits were being selectively bred for, and most shockingly of all, would reappear if biologically eliminated. These traits, in spite of showing no biological advantage, had randomly appeared at least twice. She mentions they were all eliminated in something she refereed to as the 'First Sterilization Event' some unknown number of years ago. Fascinating if you were a bio-tech, but you're not.


No, where this gets interesting for you is in the list of names. 'Erin Hagens' is prominently listed as 'likely candidate class 1' and annotated 'Induced movement to NHNC completed' with the date you showed up. As are Kase Wilder, Patrick O'Connell, Robert Maudeville, and Frank Brennick. None of the names ring any bells, though Kase's file is marked last night as the induced move time, and Robert Maudeville's marked temporary. There two other names, Chase Reilly and Jordan Smythe. Both are scheduled to be turned over to a sterilization team this afternoon. The data will be lost.
 
That nauseous feeling is back in full force. Erin is no scientist, but the data seems plain: people with certain undesirable attributes are being herded to an out-of-the-way location for…culling. It’s like something out of a nightmare -- or a particularly grim science fiction story.


And she is apparently one of them.


With difficulty, Erin commands the swooping, circling butterflies in her stomach to settle.


After a moment’s thought, she types up an account of the day’s events and a summary of all her research thus far and attaches it to an e-mail. She addresses it to bevsylvan@nyu.edu with the header VERY IMPORTANT! And the message,


Dear Professor Sylvan,


Don’t read the attached document right away please, but save it. If you don’t hear otherwise from me by phone within two days, forward it to the rest of the faculty, or better still, everyone on your mailing list. This isn’t a prank.


Regards,


Erin


P.S. Note the time of this e-mail.


P.P.S. Hope spring theatre season is going well.


After another moment’s consideration, she sends similar messages to two other professors.


Erin makes printouts of all her findings and tucks a copy into The Wandering Scholars -- she is the only person to have checked the book out in years, the librarian told her once. The other copy goes into her bag.


Now she is prepared to go looking for answers, even if she has to confront the false Stephanie Whitfield in person and get them at sword’s point. Before she sets out, she tries once more to call Tink, this time from the library payphone, not really expecting a response.
 
Pretty much everyone


In the back room of Sunshine Motors, the argument of free will over necessity is suddenly paused when Athena cocks her head. Very distantly there is a ringing from outside.


"Ha! Mine!" she calls and runs out. A few seconds later Erin hears "Hello?" distantly through the payphone. It isn't a very good connection.
 
"Tink? It's Erin. We need to talk about...about spiderwebs' dusting. And we need to talk soon and fast, because there are all these...these other people who seem to want to talk to me all of a sudden. Badly. I'm not sure how much longer I've got before they catch up with me again."
 
Patrick


Patrick raises one eyebrow at Bob's little pantomime., and shakes his head slightly at Athena. "I hear what you're saying, but I'll give an answer I'm not sure you'll get, depends on if you're into comic books." And my life seems to be turning into one. "Batman never kills. Ever. It's his principle. And so he keeps hauling the Joker back to Arkham, knowing full well he'll bust out again and kill more people - dozens? Hundreds? How many? AndhHow many would he save if he just knocked the Joker off a rooftop one night? I'm not saying that line has to be crossed - but there's a point at which sticking to a principle becomes a worse scenario than breaking it, and even if you never break it, you at least have to think about it, if only to remind yourself that the principle is worth sticking to.


...as an aside, I'd really hate to be Batman's conscience."


Hearing the name of the woman in question, he gets a distant look for a moment. "Erin? Huh. Had a friend named Erin once, was like a sister to me. Kinda dropped outa contact awhile back. But anyway..." He pauses, as Athena acknoledges he doesn't have a half-bad plan. "...oh. Well, I was going to challenge you to come up with a better idea, but when you put it that way..."


He grins, then chuckles at Lace's question. "Who do I wanna outrun? Well, I'm assuming the law is in these bad guys' pockets, right?" Patrick frowns, thinking about his own brush with Brennick and the investigation into the theft. "Might wanna look up a chap named Brennick, he was dealing with the case where my car got busted up last night. Anyway. I want to outrun everything, but I'll start with being about to play Bandit to the Smokies. Accelleration won't be too good with the skinny bias-plies they put on those old 'Vettes, unless you think you can fix up a locker for it?" He raises an eyebrow at Lace, almost in challenge, as he grins.


Kase, meanwhile, gets an encouraging smile as Athena heads off to answer her phone. "Don't worry, kid. You'll do good. And just remember two things, if you have to get into any fancy driving.


First: If it comes to it, the car's expendable - but its passengers aren't.


Second: Drive it like you stole it."
 
All


Bob shrugs as Athena leaves. "It seems reasonable to me. I say off the bastard and kill him like a vampire just to be sure he stays dead. But we'll never persuade her of that, so keep it in mind. Be prepared to accept one serious yelling if it comes down to it." The way he says that somehow implies Bob is quite familiar with a good yelling and has received more than his fair share.


Later you will learn this is not the case. Bob earned far more yellings than he ever got, and his fair share would take a dozen drill sergeants a decade to work through.


Outside, Athena nods unconsciously into the phone and starts to frown worriedly. "That doesn't sound good at all, dear, but of course I'd love to talk to you. I'm sure it's-"


*click* "Why Miss Hagens, I am surprised at you. I had no idea you felt that strongly about someone you just met. Or did perhaps you think I was engaging in hyperbole when I warned you that we had control over anyone you know?" The Thousand Singing Voices is smug now. Though the strange atonal words you can here how pleased he is with himself, feeling he has utter control of the situation. Erin can't hear Tink, of course, but if she's acting like your father, she's probably still there.


Back inside, Lace and Patrick are talking cars while Bob is facing Kase. "Hey, didn't you say you knew a little sword fighting? Did you say you went to a club at your-


Athena shoulder-checks her way through the door and starts making wild stabbing motions at you with her fingers. Freakishly, she's prattling calmly into the phone, talking about something that sounds like a good recipe for soup, all the while waving her free hand franticly. In the moment all eyes are on her she violently waves towards the cars while mouthing 'Go!' with manic intensity, even as the words leaving her lips are quite and unruffled. Lace responds in an instant, bolting out of her chair and heading past the barefooted woman outside. Bob blinks and then rips open a cabinet to withdraw a prepaid cellphone, still in its packaging. The impossible-to-open plastic parts at the touch of his fingers, and he starts programming rapidly while he urges the two of you along.


"Something just went bad. In case it gets worse, what kind of weapons do you want?" he says, fast and imperatively. Athena, seeing that you'll acting, withdraws instantly so there's no chance of you being overheard.


"I trust at this point, Miss Hagens, you understand the simple, all consuming difference between myself and the Castle?"

Arynne, another Perception + Investigation for you. Kase and Patrick meanwhile should make any last ditch arrangements.


Unless you want to do something else, of course, but I got the impression you were both intending to do the rescue thing.
 
Erin is thinking hard while she talks
4d10.hits(7) → [8,6,9,10]


Erin takes a deep breath.


“Let me tell you a story…


“Once upon a time, there were people who were…not like everybody else. Special people. They could see things that nobody else could see, or maybe do things that nobody else could do. And some of the other people were jealous, or maybe just scared. So they…got rid of them all.


“But the thing about special people is, well, they’re special. They’re hard to get rid of. So they keep coming back. And those other people keep killing them, but they always come back. To those around them, the ordinary people, so eager to fit in and scared of what they don’t understand, those different ones are wrong. In the old days, they would have been called witches, maybe. Now they’re labeled freaks, antisocial personalities, dangerous loners. But that’s not true. They’re not wrong…they’re right. It’s the whole damn world that’s wrong.


“A classic fantasy, I know. Every lonely, misfit child dreams that, and every miserable teenager who just can’t seem to fit in pretends it’s true. But here’s the twist -- I know it’s true. I’ve always known. The Rooster was right about that.


“So listen to me, Thousand Singing Voices, whoever you are. We don’t have to be enemies. I said I was willing to be reasonable, and I meant it. I’m quite prepared to be the most loyal friend you ever had -- all I ask is that you stop playing intimidation games and tell me the truth in return. But I’m warning you here and now: if you hurt the people I love just to make some petty, unnecessary point about how powerful you are, I will become the most implacable enemy you can possibly imagine. I’m beginning to understand just who I am…and it’s somebody you do not ever, ever want angry at you.


“So…which will it be? Honesty and friendship, or at least alliance? Or ae you going to do something that will make me angry?â€


My god, she thinks, is that really my voice?
 
"I did, but that's beyond the point now. I think we'll need to move," said Kase. "Because I think we just got ourselves under the gun. Tell me where we need to go and we'll get her here. Also..."


Kase held up the claymore. "You got a sheath for this? Might come in handy where we're headed."
 
Erin

There are three things you get off the Thousand Singing Voices. The first is a sensation of trying to be tough. You think some idea of toughness or power is very important to him or her, most likely because it's either a teenage boy who thinks very much of himself as a man or a woman raised in a very macho environment who thinks she has a lot to prove. Either way there's that young testosterone laden belligerence disguised under a veneer of suaveness. You think he or she has watched entirely too many Rat Pack movies at an impressionable age. What this means from a usefulness standpoint, is that the TSV is going to try to out do you at everything, If you're calm, the TSV will pretend to be calmer. If you're a badass, the TSV will have to take things to a higher level. But if you reveal something about yourself and note why that should make you impressive, the TSV is going to reveal more about himself, and explain why that is even more impressive. In short, this guy will definitely drive off a cliff if he thinks that would show you he's tougher than you, especially if you made a big deal about how tough/brave you were before hand.


Secondly is that the Rooster is nothing like him. The Rooster's a jackass because he doesn't give a damn about anyone and has the cockiness of someone who's never had his butt kicked enough. The TSV has clearly lost a lot to a lot of different people and is overcompensating. What that means from a usefulness standpoint is that simply intimidating the TSV will be very hard. He's lost enough that he's not scared of that, but he is scared of being mocked for losing. Again, he will drive off the cliff because he thinks people laughing at him is worse.


Finally, the voice is being auto-tuned. That's why you're having a hard time making out details.


"Oh, is that right Miss Hagens? You think you are special? You are not. You are bait for a trap, and you are no more irreplaceable then the next piece of cheese. You aren't even a person, you're just a thing. A bit of bait, a bit of cheese. Because no matter how freakish it is that the Salinan Working keeps recreating you, if it's done it twice now it will do it again, and then we can always just use the next iteration.


I, meanwhile, am not only a person, but I'm more than a person. I'm Exalted! You're only here as a spell, and I'm the one who can cast that spell, so your whole life is just here to serve ME! So you think you're a useful ally? Erin, I'm more important you'll ever be, and I'm twice the ally you are. So if you don't want me to go kill your family in DC or New York, you'll start begging to be my ally."


Also, he just started using contractions. It's a sign of stress. You'd slaughter the TSV at poker.
 
“Have you heard a word I’ve been saying? Threats and bluster will not work on me.†She nearly says “anymore†but stops herself. “Do you know what you sound like right now? Like someone in way over their head, with a great big plan and no real understanding of how to pull it off. You want me to do something, but you don’t know how to motivate me except by talking tough and scary and hoping I knuckle under. In other words, you’re just a schoolyard bully with a really good phone connection.


“I know what you are, ‘exalted’.†Actually, I don’t, Erin thinks. But you seem to love talking about yourself. There’s more than one way to get information from a hostile witness, and thank you, Analie, for teaching me that.


“Do you really know what I am? What I have been before --†a vision of silver leaves crosses her mind “-- and what I have the potential to become? I felt the touch of a power that calls people to rise and shine and be bigger and brighter than they ever were before. I don’t know why I was chosen, or maybe the choice was mine all along. But a choice there was, ad I said Yes. Can you say the same?â€
 
Patrick


"Desert Eagle if you got it," Patrick answers imeediately, whirling to hurry out after Lace, realising from the actions of the others that Charlie has just started doing the Foxtrot. "If not, anything .45 or bigger, but I'll settle if I have to. Combat knife?"


Even as he speaks, he's in motion, nodding to Kase in approval with regards to Duncan MacLeod's Sword even as he hustles out the door torwards the cars.
 
Kase, Patrick


Bob smirks at Kase, and flips him a sheath. It's a huge affair, clearly meant to be shoulder slung, but the blade fits perfectly. He also hands Kase the cell phone and an envelope.


"There's only one number in here, Athena's. Now remember, the line with only be guaranteed clean for about the first twelve seconds of that first call. So if you've got something else, use a dirty phone, or buy another prepaid one. There's four complete identities in the envelope, and half a dozen winning lottery tickets. The tickets are labeled with their values, ranging from $125 to lots. Remember that only the small denominations, $500 and less, can be cashed off the grid, but you've got a couple big ones in case you want to bribe someone. And take care of my sword. It will serve you well."


Afterwards he turns to Partick, and pulls the D'eagle from a hip pocket. The thing's a hand cannon, and you're very confident he didn't have that there a moment ago, but by now that's par for the course. "I gather you wanted one chambered for .50. Here's five extra mags. Now you look like a bright guy, so I don't think I need to say this, but I will anyway. Don't cowboy that sucker, because you'll only muzzle stamp yourself in the forehead. Two hands, good posture, and brace if you possibly can." He hands you a holster assembly also, which seemed to come from his inner jacket pocket. It's an underarm model, with weapon on the left and ammunition on the right. Each magazine is loaded open end down, rounds pointing up. It's a standard speed-loading setup. Another of Bob's pockets yields the knife from the second Rambo movie. Finally he hands you a card.


"And here's your concealed carry permit. Now, go. Lace should have something ready for you by now."

Heartbreak (the claymore)


Spd 5, Acc +3, Dmg +7L/2, Def 0, Rate 2, Min St 3, Tags 2, O, R


Desert Eagle


Spd 6, Acc +1, Dmg 15L, Rate 1, Range 50', Min St 2, Tags 2, B, P


Magazine Capacity: 7


Edited: Extended


By the time you leave the shop, Athena has scrawled an address on a slip of paper. It's public library on the south side of town, perhaps a 10 minute drive were one to obey speed limits. 'Her name is Erin Hagens and she will know you by spiderwebs dusting. Tell her Tink sent you.' All this is written down, because the woman herself is still prattling.


Beyond that, Lace is slamming the hood of the Challenger shut. She glances up at you two and pauses on the brink of rushing into the garage.


"I redid the ducts, reran all your brake lines and fuel lines because it was faster than checking them for leaks, then fixed your radiator, changed your brake pads, and swapped the oil. There was no time to replace the filter. I think a squirrel was nesting in the trunk, so I chased it off with a broom. It tried to bite me. Stupid squirrel." She scowls and glares off into the trees, presumably in the direction of the aforementioned rodent.


"Anyway, I'm going to go put that suspension in the 'Vette. You want me to tweak it or just get it on the road soon? It'll probably take me at least ten minutes without any mods."
 
Erin


There is a short pause. Then suddenly, "You're lying," the other voice snaps. The words are harder then they've been before, lacking the insecure pride. Yet somewhere in the back of the tone, carefully hidden by the artificial tuning, you can tell he's recoiling, violently from your awful implication. The Thousand Singing Voices doesn't just believe you're lying; he needs to believe it. Otherwise some hidden facet of his world will come crashing down. "You're lying, and you don't even know what you're talking about. You're just a book!"

Unfortunately,he's sort of right. It's a roll off between his Perception + Inv, vs your manip + presence. Stunt your reply and add any virtues, willpower or what have you.
 
…Shot through with veins of gold, growing from a plant with minerals in the veins and silver in the skin. Steaming water runs down, and streams off the edges like tropical rainwater. There were only hundreds of them at first, but they kept growing…


“Someone very wise once wrote: ‘There is a god in every leaf; you hold what is sacred in your open hand.’ Even if I am a book, from this day forward, I’m a book that writes itself. My story is my own to tell, not yours or anyone else’s! I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.†Erin’s voice soars as she says the words and remembers the title of the poem they came from: INVICTUS.

Manipulation + Presence + Conviction
5d10.hits(7) → [7,7,7,1,2]


Manipulation + Presence + Specialty: Persuasive + Conviction


6d10.hits(7) → [10,6,10,1,4,6]
 
Erin

One
"You cannot be," he whispers, and the line goes quiet. Were you not in a silent library, straining your ears for clues, you might think the line went dead. It didn't. The Thousand Singing Voices is silent and speechless. His breathing comes across as a gentle murmur below the edges of your hearing, present only in the static the telephone transmits.
 
“But I am. I don’t belong to you, or the Castle, or anybody,†Erin replies. “As I said before, that doesn’t make us enemies, though. I’m sure there are ways we could be of service to each other in the future. You just have to stop treating me like a pawn on the board, instead of a queen. Or at least a knight.â€
 
Erin


"I do not think you quite understand," he says softly with the arrogance gone. "The phenomenon of your kind is known. The Working has recreated several of the Books before, when they were purged due the a knee jerk reaction by Section One. That was the first Sterilization Event, and it cost us roughly eighty seven percent of the first crop. When it was noticed that the Working had recreated several Books again, in the generation that includes you, your kind was collected that you could be studied. Division One lobbied to sterilize again, but given the recent failure of Area Seven, they were denied. A surgical team has been called in, and they will annihilate your generation carefully, without collateral damage.


"That isn't important though. If there is even a chance that any of the Books are capable of Exalting, the entire Engine will be determined an unacceptable risk. Life will be purged again, and we will return to the slow, methodical plan A. My kind will be trapped in our labors alone for fifty million years."

Post is finished. Back to you guys.
 
“You still keep talking as if everything is predetermined, foreordained. But it’s not that way. It’s not that way at all. Listen to me,†Erin says, and her voice is passionate, urgent, “before I came to this town I knew who and what I was, and thought that was all I could ever be. I could see my whole life stretching in front of me, a life of quiet desperation, my days spent hoping against hope for a moment of love, of beauty, tomorrow. And now all that’s changed. Even if I die today I will have done things that would not have been possible for me before. And I have no intention of dying today.


“My destiny has changed, Thousand Singing Voices. What’s possible and impossible has changed. And if it can happen for me, why not you? Why not the whole damn world?€
 
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