ftp.ee.pdx.edu/2014.02.ftp.ee.pdx.edu.tar/ftp.ee.pdx.edu/pub/frp/stories/ado/ado.4

Internet Message Format | 1991-05-09 | 11KB

From [e-mail] Tue May  7 00:12:44 1991
From: [e-mail] (Phyllis Rostykus)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: STORY : Saraquael (Part 4 of 6)
Summary: Shadowrun write-up
Date: 6 May 91 19:40:31 GMT
Reply-To: [e-mail] (Phyllis Rostykus)
Organization: Applied Microsystems, Redmond, WA


    Saraquael rested against Ben while they drove back to the city. She
napped for short intervals and then woke with a start.  Renowyn and
Catskill lost them sometime on the drive back, and when they tried to call
Renowyn's phone, all they got was, "We're sorry, this number has been
temporarily disconnected."  Then they remembered that the arm that the
creature had tried to take off had been the one with Renowyn's phone on it.

    So Hachiman dropped her off on her doorstep, and told her that he
would contact her if anything interesting developed.  He gave Saraquael
his phone number as well, in case she needed to contact him.

    As she got out of the car, she saw Ben looking sad and lonely in the
back of the car.  She remembered that all he had to go to was that coffin.

    "Come on." she said.

    "Me?" he said, looking a little surprised.

    "Who else?" she said half laughing.  "Hachiman has a perfectly good
place to stay and you need your rest after that amazing healing you put
together tonight."

    His big, warm hand took hers and used it to climb out of the car.
"Thank you, ma'am."

    "No problem." she said a little smugly.  Maybe she'd finally find out
what his hands would feel like on her shoulders.

-------

    Sara took a long, luxuriously hot bath with bath salts and oils and
bubbles as well.  She scrubbed her hair and then soaked until she started
to wrinkle.  She got out and dried herself with a huge day-glo pink bath
sheet.  She pulled on a silk nightie that caressed her skin and then over
that a kimono styled quilted robe with kittens tumbling in play patterned
on the front and back.  She then went to look in on Ben.

    He had moved into the guest bedroom and the door was opened just a
crack.  For a moment, she thought that a monster had eaten him, but then
she saw that the huge, knobby, green creature had Ben's tired eyes.

    He was covered in green armor and getting ready to go to sleep.

    She quietly moved away, towards the kitchen to get a bite to eat.
She found the refrigerator half emptied.  She just looked at the emptyness
then back at the door to the guest bedroom and shook her head.  She
managed to find the salmon pate' and told the oven to toast a couple of
mini-bagels.  Sara nibbled her way through her meal, sipped a glass of
milk, and shuddered to think of just how Ben had managed to eat so much in
just the time it had taken her to take a bath.

    Then Saraquael curled up alone in her bed and quietly went to sleep.
She dreamed of many things, of marble desks, balls of string, pyramids,
spider webs, stolen horses, and a man getting his heart cut out.  But she
didn't remember any of those dreams in the morning.

------

    "How could you EAT that much?" Saraquael was flabbergasted by the
utterly desolated shelves of her kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator.
Everything but everything was gone.

    "It wasn't easy." Ben Ali said sleepily, "I don't know how you can
stand all that liver pate' and you could die from all the fat in that milk
and butter.  The seafood, though...  Mmmm..." he hummed with contentment,
"That was just wonderful."

    "Well, you're just going to have to go out and buy me some more
groceries." The phone chose that moment to ring, so Saraquael missed the
look of outrage on Ben's face and the look of contrition as well.  He
pulled out the 5000Y 'stick that Catskill had given him the day before and
then put it away again with a sigh as he remembered the revelation he had
had that the spirits didn't like it if you worked only for the money.

    "Hello?"

    "Yeah, Catskill here, what's up?"

    "Oh, I don't know.  Hachiman dropped us off here, and..."

    "Us?"

    Saraquael laughed self-consciously and turned to frown at Ben, "Well,
soon to be one, I'm about ready to kill him for eating everything I own,
even the smoked salmon I was saving for a special occasion."  He mock
cowered.  "Ben's here, I thought it'd be more comfortable for him than the
silly coffin place, and after last night the company has been rather
welcome."

    "Yeah... I know the feeling." in the background Sara heard a faint "Hi,
Sara!!"

    "Renowyn?"  They shared a giggle.

    "Yeah.  Anyway..."

    "Yeah... anyway, Hachiman said that he would get back to us if anything
interesting turned up on the bids and he gave me his number for us to call
in case we turned up anything interesting."  Saraquael gave Catskill the
number.

    "Great.  Thanks!"

    "Sure, no problem.  Hopefully he'll find out something interesting
before the Lug eats me out of house and home." Sara wrinkled her nose in
Ben's direction, and he laughed softly.  "Oh... yeah.  Just how is Renowyn
doing now?"  Ben's eyes narrowed at the question and he cocked his head in
question.

    "He seems to be doing just fine, says that the arm still feels a bit
weird at times, and he's eating prodigious amounts as well; but it looks
like the work Ben did is holding up just grand."  Sara nodded at Ben and
he sat back again.  Catskill giggled and then covered the speaker as she
reprimanded Renowyn for something.  Sara felt a stab of envy.

    "Keen... Glad to hear it.  Hmmm... guess that's it." Sara said.

    "Yeah.  Take care."

    "You too.  Bye."

    "Bye."

    For a long moment Saraquael held the phone in her lap and just looked
at it, feeling intensely mixed up.  Lonely and angry and a little
confused.  Remembering the darkness and the blood of the night before made
the spat about groceries seem so stupid in comparison.  Ben got up out of
the sofa and walked over to her, his bulk looming over her.  For a second
she remembered the cruel shape of his alligator's head up in the True
World and saw his lumpy armored skin and was frightened.  Then she looked
up into his gentle eyes and remembered how he had knelt in the mud to save
Renowyn's life.

     Slowly she leaned against him, swallowing a lump in her throat as she
felt his big hands at the back of her neck.  She closed her eyes and put
all of her slight weight against him.  His skin was surprisingly soft over
the hardness of the armor and warm against hers.  It reminded Sara of the
smooth, soft skin of a pet snake she had once held.

     She could feel the power in his hands, but they only gently rubbed
and kneaded the muscles of her shoulders and neck.  She purred and he
chuckled.  One arm went under her legs, the other stopped rubbing her neck
and slipped around her shoulders and he picked her up like she weighed
nothing.  She paniced and started to wriggle away, her first instinctive
response to helplessness.

     "No... no... little one,  I'm not..." She looked up and saw the hurt
in his eyes and grew still.  Patiently, slowly he gathered his words, "I'm
just goin' to go over to sit in the couch, all right?"

     "All... all right..." she said in a very small voice.

     He smiled wryly, "On my word as a Southern Gentleman, I won't do
anything you don't want me to, ma'am."  And true to his gentleman's word,
Ben just carried her over to the couch and sat down.  He held her in his
arms did absolutely nothing but hold her close to his warmth.  Gradually,
she curled up in his lap, her head in the hollow of his throat, her face
against his chest.  Slowly he started to knead the muscles of her neck and
shoulders.  She felt a little like she was melting as she relaxed into him.

     Both at once they said, "I'll pay for the groceries."  They both
started to laugh so hard they cried.  Which started Saraquael onto a real
crying jag that had her sobbing into his shirt.  He gently stroked the
back of her head and neck while she cried herself out and wisely didn't
say anything.  They spent much of the rest of that day just curled up on
the couch, talking and just sharing each other's company.

     They both paid for the groceries.

------

     The phone rang while Saraquael was napping on a sunshine filled ledge.

     She growled at it, but it didn't stop, so she picked it up.  "Hello?"

     "I am calling to speak to Saraquael."  Hachiman's voice was level.

     "This is she." She wondered, a little confused by sleep, if that was
the correct way to say it.

     "Ah, good.  Miss Sabre arranged for a meeting with one of the
bidders.  She provided a warehouse out in West Seattle for the meeting and
the box will be delivered to 1040 S.E. 86th at fourteen forty-five.  We
are to meet with the potential client at fifteen hundred."  Saraquael
hastily converted the number to three in the afternoon. "Will Mr. Ali and
you be able to make it to the meeting at fourteen forty five?  I wish to
inform the group of what has developed since we last met."

     She looked at her watch, it was a little after noon.  "Sure.  We can
make it."

     "Very good.  I look forward to seeing you."

     "Yeah.  See ya."

     Sara and Ben got there just as a nervous looking razorgirl with
stripmirror shades and black synthleathers walked in with a familiar sized
box.  Hachiman greeted all of them politely at the door of the ragged,
hole filled warehouse. He took the box from the razorgirl and set it down
on the meeting table.  The razorgirl sat down against a wall and started
looking through a vidmag.  Kilroy was already in the room.  Catskill and
Renowyn showed up ten minutes later with Miller in tow.

     "There were three messages.  The first offered 10,000Y. The second was
a woman who said that she was interested in the object in question, though
she was looking for a different object.  The third said that he was
surprised that there was another one of these objects, but that he was
interested in obtaining this one.  I assumed that the last was from the
man you stole this from.  The first sounded as if he were the person who
hired Jerry.  I followed up on the second." Hachiman's eyes narrowed.  "It
was Raven Two Shadows."

    Saraquael shivered at the naming.  Ben looked at her questioningly.
She said softly, "They say that on bright cloudless days if you look very
closely you can see a second shadow following her, the accumulated ghosts
of those she's betrayed and murdered waiting to take their vengeance."

    Catskill looked a little exasperated, "That's only a story told to
scare little kids.  She's a shaman for Renraku, a very good one."

    Hachiman nodded, "I met her for lunch at the arcology.  She had said
that she was more interested in a book that was about as big as two hands
held together...

    "Made of real paper and bound in wood..." finished Renowyn.  "Yeah...
we've heard of that, before."

    Hachiman continued patiently, "She was very polite, very well
mannered and very interested in what the box contained."

    "Yes, indeed, I am very interested in what the box contains."  The
voice was low, husky, almost soft enough to be a whisper.  It sounded
as if every word bore a painful cost and it came from a razor thin
figure in the doorway.

-----
Phyllis Rostykus     | "Looking down on empty streets, all she can see are
..!sumax!polari!li   |  the dreams all made solid, are the dreams made real."
[e-mail]  |  - "Mercy Street" by Peter Gabriel