IN MEDIA REX
(a Shadowrun story)
by Dru Pagliassotti

Logon:  Shaman.  Command?

I glanced over my shoulder.  Jade was restive, winding the sheets around his body like a funeral wrap as he tossed and turned.  The battered fan I had plugged into a corner did little to stir the oppressively still summer air, and sweat sheened his face and chest.  He'd awaken soon, probably shouting.  His nightmares were always worse when it got hot.

New logon

Behind me, he whimpered.  I half-turned, the deck on my crossed legs teetering, and laid fingers on his shoulder.  He quieted, curling.

Current logon:  Shaman.  New logon:

I slowly typed it in.

Imago.

As I hit the enter key, I heard wood crack.

Logoff.

I closed the deck's protective case and set it aside, softly.

The cracking continued.

Awkwardly picking up the heavy Predator II that Jade insisted on keeping by the futon, I leaned over, placed one hand firmly over Jade's mouth.

He woke up, fighting me.  I lifted the gun, and he froze; I nodded toward the door.

"Break-in," I whispered.  He nodded and took the gun as I let my fingers slide from his lips.  I pulled the deck's leather strap over my shoulder as he shook himself loose from the sheets, eyes fixed on the front door.

This was only the latest of our residences; we move every few months, as business necessitates.  A one-room studio, unfurnished; all we needed was a place free from the acid rain, an electrical socket and a phone jack.  Piles of second-hand clothes and cheap zines lay scattered over the room.  Break-ins weren't uncommon in the neighborhoods we found ourselves in - in the third borough, where rent was low and no-one asked nosy questions like where it came from.

The lock on the door broke; it had been cheap anyway, and from the sound of it, they'd merely grabbed it with a wrench and twisted it off.  Jade stabilized himself on both knees, gun at arm's length, barrel trained at the door.  I began to move around the room, stuffing clothes into a cheap nylon daypack.  If he killed someone, we'd be on the road again.

The door crashed open and someone began to fire.  Not just a break-in.

The floor slammed against my palms as I dropped, rolling to keep my deck from cracking against the cheap linoleum.  As the sharp smell of gunpowder and hot metal began to fill the air, I fumbled for the side pockets of the pack.

Cylindrical metal cannister.  I pulled the ring and tossed.

One.  Two.

Smoke filled the doorway.  The firing stuttered a moment, then stopped as people began to yell.

"Aw, frag, Shaman," Jade groaned, turning.  Blood ran in rivulets down his pale chest, smeared over his hands.

Six.  Seven.

Keeping low, I hurried over to him, slid an arm under his.

Ten.  Eleven.

The CS tear gas was keeping the gunmen outside occupied, and the smoke obscured their vision.  I lifted Jade to his feet and half-carried him to the window, keeping myself as much between him and the door as possible.  Blood tracks marked our path.

Seventeen.  Eighteen.

I twisted the latch and lifted the window one-handed.  Jade slumped heavily against my side, saving his strength.

"Out!" I breathed, helping him brace himself against the window sill.  He took three fast, shallow breaths, and half-tumbled out onto the fire escape.

White light flashed and played over the window, blinding me.  Spotlight.

I dropped, back to the wall, and reached into the pack again.  Two shots from outside.  I sucked in air, cleared my mind.  No time to think; only to do.

Two more cannisters.  I pulled the ring, threw.  Pulled the second ring, threw.

Twenty four.  Twenty five.

The smoke in the doorway began to dissipate.  The gunmen had pulled or been pulled back.  They'd be useless for five to ten minutes, but I had no way of knowing what reserves they had.

Two.  I vaulted over the windowsill, sneakers slamming against the wire mesh as the deck cracked noisily against the wall.

Jade huddled flat against the brightly lit landing.  His head rolled as I landed, dropping into a crouch and throwing my hands over my head.  A few random shots, but for the moment the smoke obscured us.

"Go up," I ordered, unfolding.  Jade gazed emptily at me, in shock.  I grabbed his shoulder and he climbed to his knees, staggering up the metal stairs.

I waited until his feet were higher than the window, and threw my last hope inside the room, dropping flat against the fire escape landing.

Four seconds later, the frag grenade burst.

The explosion must have shaken the reserves below.  They began firing again, chipping off bits of brick wall.  I laid flat and focused on not being present.

As soon as they paused, I began to climb.

Eighteen.  Seven more seconds of smoke to obscure my passage.  I caught up with Jade as he struggled to the top floor and stopped, unable to negotiate the straight ladder to the roof.

"Oh, god, Shaman," he groaned, doubling up.  More blood.

I looked up; no helicopters.  I realized I had expected them, and took another deep breath to clear my mind of all expectations.  I didn't know who I fought; therefore, I should plan to fight no-one.  Or everyone.

Jade groaned again.

I slid my own Ceska from its holster and checked the clip, then replaced it.  If I can avoid relying on my small arms skill, I do.  Pointless to shoot at unseen targets, anyway.  Open the newly scuffed lid of the deck; nothing visibly damaged.  Look down; for the moment, no pursuit.  The grenade must have made them more cautious.  Wish I had a smartgun link.  No - no time for wishing.

I pulled off my khaki jacket and laid it over Jade.  He was oblivious.

Nothing I could do here.  I looked at the window, hoped there wasn't anyone home.  Kicked it in.  Drew the gun.  Clicked off the safety.

Broken glass scraped bare arms as I climbed through, but pain, too, is a focus.  Everything seemed too artificial - moving too quickly, like a bad vid flick.  Time to grab the director's chair and start editing.

Light flooded the room; a young woman sat up in bed, hand still on the lamp and eyes wide.  Alone?  Pity.

"Don't move."  I kept the gun trained on her as I reached the nearest phone, unplugged it.  Plugged in the modem.  Powered up.

"What do you want?" she asked, voice shaking.  "I've been hearing shots...."

"Police business."  The invocation of authority seemed to calm her a little; I was amused that she might mistake me for Knight Errant.  The cursor blinked on and I quickly dialed, left a message, dialed another number.  No time to jack in; had to concentrate in slowtime.

"D-do you have a badge or something?" she asked, gaining courage as my attention wavered and the gun barrel dropped.

"Later."  I kept half an eye on her as she pulled a robe from a hook by the bunk, drawing it on.  She seemed more confident under an extra layer of cloth.  I understood.  I always am, too.

Shaman what's up?  The glowing blue letters clicked across my screen.

Attacked by gunmen Jade shot

"What apartment is this?"

"It-it's apartment 503...."

Bldg srnded guns Jade & I apt 503

Soonest

The line was abruptly broken.  I powered down and unplugged.  Soonest might take some work.

She'd slipped from the bunk and stood barefoot, unsure whether to be afraid or to be indignant.  I made up her mind for her.

"Go to the window or I'll kill you," I said calmly, lifting the gun again.  She blanched, but, after a panicked hesitation, quickly obeyed.  I closed the portable and stood slightly behind her.

"There's someone on the landing!"  She sounded sick.  "He's been shot..."

"Scream for help.  Tell them you've been taken hostage."

"What if I don't?" she asked, voice nearly breaking.

"I kill you and find someone else."

She screamed.  A good job.

"We want to talk with you," a voice crackled over a megaphone.

"What's your phone number?"

She shuddered.

"212, uh... 968-5320."

"Tell them."

"B-but, you unplugged the phone...."

So I had.  I walked back and re-plugged it, amused at myself.  Jade would have laughed.  No, don't think about that.  She shouted desperately out the window, repeating her number.

A minute later, the phone rang.

I lifted the receiver.

"Yes." I said.

"This is Rattler.  We want to negotiate with you."

"I'm listening," I said.  Ah, not the law.  The corps.  Well, well.  That explained the hasty gunfire.  Megacorps always got a sweet deal on ammo; they could afford to waste it.

The girl turned, tensed.  I aimed the gun at her midsection and she froze.  Teledrama in apartment 503, live.  Should have rung up the local vid station while I was at it.  Megacorps hate publicity.  Well, maybe next time.

"We just want to ask you and Jade a few questions.  We're prepared to make guarantees for your safety during and after our conversation."

I smiled slightly.  Six, seven more minutes, assuming Voivode was on time.

"Bullshit.  You tried to kill us," I replied.  Rattler paused, talked to someone else with the receiver muffled.  I could afford to wait.  Indeed, preferred to.

"We were just laying down suppression fire.  Thought you might give up, but you were too fast.  Too good.  That's okay - now we know you're who we want."

"Why?"  Suppression fire.  The flimsy lie would have amused me, if Jade hadn't been bleeding on the landing. 

"Like I said, we just want to talk to you.  There's no reason anyone needs to get hurt."

I cradled the phone between chin and shoulder, and moved to the window.  The young lady scuttled away, eyes wide, pressing against the other wall.  Glance out the window - a lot of lights.  They were mobilizing as I spoke.  Down - Jade wasn't moving beneath my jacket.

"I'll kill her if you or your men try anything."

Right off the vidscreen.  He paused, apparently weighing his options.  I love vid; it seduces so many into its absurdist realm.  Generations suckled on teledrama.  I'm a datavangelist.  I have no qualms about exploiting those illiterati too brain-washed by bad screenwriting to realize that killing the girl would only put me at a disadvantage.  I make people's fiberoptic dreams reality. 

When enough people believe something to be true, it is true in its consequences.

Four, five minutes.

"I want safe passage out for both of us, a car waiting, and nobody following.  I'll let her out two blocks from here.  Don't try anything when her heels hit the street - I shoot just fine out a car window."  She shivered, staring at me.  If only she knew how poorly I shoot even at point-blank range.

"Wait a moment.  I'll have to talk to the others."

Not acting alone.  No, Rattler wouldn't dare.  We'd burned him on our last run, but his was the only head on the corp chopping block.  Apparently IIS had given him one more chance to redeem himself.  Pity - they could afford to hire better.  He must br sleeping with someone in Human Relations.

Whoever had authorized this, the police weren't interfering.  That wasn't the most promising sign.  I really should have called in the cameras.

I hung up and waited.  The woman didn't say anything, intent on her own survival.  Silence; just the spotlight playing over the broken window and against the far wall.  Very neo-noir.

I wondered what Voivode had in mind.

The phone rang.  She jumped, eyes wide.  I clicked it on.

"Yes."

"Okay, look.  All three of you come on down.  Use the fire escape.  We'll clear a track to a car that's parked in the alley; the keys will be in the ignition.  You let the girl off a block away, okay?"

"If anyone gets too close or fires a shot, the lady dies."

"We understand."

"How long?"

"Give us ten minutes.  We'll call you back."

I hung up again.  She was beginning to look desperate, ready to try something brave and disastrous.  Another media victim.  Probably figuring her chances of kicking the gun out of my hand.

I walked with the phone to the wall again, sat down on a battered armchair.  Actually, she probably could kick it out of my hand, if she tried.  God knows I'm no street samurai.

"I don't really want to kill you," I said, honestly.  "You're safe."

"Why me?" she asked faintly.

"Karma."  I glanced at the window and felt sweat trickle down my face.  Not the heat; heat never makes me sweat.  I took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

The bedside lamp blinked off.  The lights outside went dark.  Some random shots, and then the stutter of full autofire.  Sudden silence.

I waited a second, then rocked the phone's power switch.  Nothing.

I risked a small smile, and stood.

"Go to the bathroom, lock the door, and wait until I call you or you don't hear anything out here."

She wordlessly fled, slamming the door behind her.  I heard the lock click.  There was no reason for her to die, as she surely would if I took her outside as a hostage.  Rattler didn't give a damn about her life - not with no cops or vid crews around - and he wasn't about to let Jade and me escape.

Automatic fire.  I hit the ground again, covering my head.  Bullets ripped through the door, shattered out the rest of the window's glass.  I squirmed forward to pull the deck under me, protect it with my body.

Silence.

A knock at the hole-riddled door.

"Come in," I shouted, getting to my elbows and aiming about where a visitor's gut would be.  The biggest target.  The door opened, slowly.

"Not good, Shaman," Voivode said in his mild Byelorussian accent as he looked carefully around the room before entering, FN-Mag 5 dangling at his side.  Behind him bodies lay sprawled; some sneak-group of Rattler's trying to renege on our deal, I assumed.  "This is not like you at all."

I stood up.  It occurred to me that I might get annoyed at him for nearly killing me, but I decided that since I was still alive, complaining would just be petty.  Perhaps when we were out of here I would take a moment to suggest that he open doors with a bit more restraint.

"He's on the fire escape."  I thumbed the safety on the semi and holstered it, following Voivode to the window.  He looked out, grunted, and hopped through, brushing broken glass from the frame with a leather-sheathed arm.

None of the streetlights were lit; no lights showed through the windows of the other buildings.  The spotlight still worked, trained on the wall.  Voivode frowned and reached over his back, swinging a sniper rifle around.  I dropped into a crouch and laid a hand on Jade's chest.  It moved, but only shallowly.  As Voivode took aim, I slid a hand over Jade's.  His palm was cool, clammy.

Voivode squinted, let breath hiss from between his teeth, and pulled the trigger.  The spotlight exploded with the crunch of safety glass, and everything went black.

Together, we lifted Jade through the window and into the room. 

"This doesn't look good," Voivode muttered, lifting the jacket and then letting it fall back.  "MediVac?"

"Subscription ran out.  Street doc."

"I came in through a window.  It won't be easy getting him through."

I picked up the portable, slung it over my shoulder.

"Sling?"

"I guess we have to," Voivode said with misgiving.  I stripped the girl's bed of floral-print sheets, bundled them under one arm.  Lifted the portable and slung it over my shoulder again.  Pulled out my wallet one-handed and shook out fifteen, dropped it on the bed.  Damages.  All I could afford, until I had a chance to dance the matrix again.

Voivode led, Jade in his arms.  He'd entered through the fifth-floor hall window; a black ladder stretched across the alley to the next building.  All the other doors along the hall were closed - this wasn't the kind of neighborhood where you investigated autofire.

"What about the streets?" I asked, stepping around three corpses and keeping a wary eye down the hall.  Voivode stopped at the window.

"I shorted the block.  Broadcast still works.  No time to set up jammers."  Voivode glanced down into the alley, waiting as I shook out the sheets. "You know I hate rush jobs, Shaman.  Fast, means sloppy.  Bad for my rep."   Carefully placing Jade in the middle of the bedsheets, he wrapped them around him with a paramedic's efficiency.  I remembered Jade's restless sleep, and the sheets that had wound around his legs as he'd tossed and turned.  Control.  Think of nothing.  I pulled out the gun and kept an eye down the hall.  Thinking of nothing wasn't working very well, so I figured I might as well think of our safety, instead.  Voivode followed my glance.  "When these three don't answer a radio call, your friend's people will come up.  If I'd had more time, I could have mined the stairwells and elevators."

"I apologize.  I was caught on short notice, myself.  Is your car safe?"

"As any, around here."  He checked the ladder's clamps.  "Ready?"

"Who first?"

"Better be me."  He clambered out onto the ladder, turned to face me with legs dangling over the sides.  I lifted Jade up - he groaned - and eased him onto the ladder.  Voivode leaned forward and grabbed a handful of sheet.  Carefully, I eased out after him.  Heights have never bothered me, but the thought of dropping Jade over the side of the narrow span did.

With Voivode pulling and me pushing, we slowly worked Jade across the fifteen-foot gap and into the next building.  If there was anyone in the alley, they weren't looking up, or they weren't interested.

"Bout time," Hetter muttered as we slid through the window.  He stood in the hallway with a rather large M107 cradeled in his arms, wisps of pale brown hair sticking to the sweat on his face.  Nobody was in this hall, either.  Voivode lifted Jade in his arms again while the other glanced nervously around, shifting from foot to foot.  He was as impatient as his partner was methodical.  Sometimes I thought that the only thing the two had in common was a fondness for loud explosions.  "Thought you'd eaten it."

"Hetter," I greeted him, wiping my palms against my pants.  They left dark streaks.  "Thank you for joining us."

"Yeah."  The thin, edgy man grinned tightly.  "Whatcha into this time?  Some fun.  Lotsa corp guns down there.  Blew about four, five away when the lights went out.  Rest hit the ground and got real quiet."  He laughed in short, staccato bursts.

I shook my head, following Voivode down the hall to the stairwell.  He let me take the lead, his arms filled with my friend.  I would have preferred we change places, but unfortunately I don't have the build to carry Jade for very long.  Instead I carried my pistol and hoped the path was clear.  Hetter guarded the rear, still chuckling intermittently. 

Voivode's car was still there, tires intact, a hulking, battered black KC Nomad with a dented shell and obscure Russian stickers plastering the rear bumper.  Hetter lifted the back and we slid Jade in.  I followed, setting my deck aside to pull Jade's upper body into my lap and arms for safety.  Voivode usually let Hetter do the driving when there might be vehicle fire, and the elf had a slight problem using the brakes - in other words, he didn't.

Jade was still breathing, but there was blood all over, and his skin was chalky.  Stitched across the front.  Probably punctured his lungs.  I closed my eyes, before they could betray me.

"Don't worry, we'll take him to Angel's, all right?"  Voivode reached in and slapped me on the leg.  "She'll sew him up, no problem."

The shell lid locked down.  Hetter let the emergency brake and we began to roll soundlessly and lightlessly down the dark street.  I leaned back against the metal cab wall and stopped worrying about getting shot.  Voivode and Hetter were eccentric, but they were professionals.

The truck bounced slightly as Voivode hopped through the open door.  Hetter switched everything on and the engine roared to a start.  I steadied Jade, rested a hand against his damp forehead.  Now that we were out of danger, I let the heat rise; an anger I hadn't dared to let myself feel when rationality meant survival.

Voivode had been right; I'd been careless.  That wasn't my style.  It was Jade's job to take the jobs and run with them; it was mine to plan for contingencies and ward them off.  I'd underestimated Rattler - assumed IIS would simply fire him and cut their losses.  I hadn't thought the data we'd stolen for our Johnson had meant that much to the corp; figured we were small-time runners, our jobs would be small-time risks.  I had obviously made a mistake.

And, as anyone who's ever watched vid knows, that meant I had to rectify it.  Preferably with a large gun and at least one psychologically significant speech.

I wondered if Rattler liked teledrama.