"I'm outa here - you gits've cleared me out"
Moose gets up from the table and heads towards the door, Sleaseball looks up from his cards and calls out after him
"You'll be back - I know you can't resist my... charm"
Moose shows him the finger and shrugs on his jacket, back at the table his friends laugh
and wave fingers at each other. Sleaseball smiles and walks over to where Moose waits at the door
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, give me a call"
Looking over Moose's shoulder at the rain hammering down from the night sky Sleaseball grimaces,
"You sure you want to go out in this? Sandy's off in an hour, why not wait and share a taxi with us"
his friend punches him playfully on the arm and steps out into the rain, turning he shouts back to Sleaseball
"Yeah, that's just my style - playing gooseberry to you two; I'll be okay, fuck it, my hair needs washing anyway"

Brainwaster: antithesis to the Ebon - although, like their parent race, able to make use of the mysterious Flux, the Brainwaster sub-species lacks the gentler, more poetic, nature typical of the Ebon per se. Notable for their coarse style and mannerisms the often brutal behaviour of this humanoid group has alienated them from the general populace, so much so that they generally seek entertainment solely amongst their own kind - even then inter-group rivalry and dissent is common. Possessed of an arrogance based upon a fantastical sense of superiority, the Brainwaster is a creature to be be pitied rather than feared; sadly this compassionate view cannot be acted upon without serious risk of verbal abuse or even physical injury from the offended Brainwaster. Described by some as merely a waste of genetic material, by others as a dangerous sociopathic threat, the Brainwaster has yet to make any contribution of note to The World Of Progress - save in the coarse and immediate world of combat. With time it is to be hoped that this species will become more active in the Arts and Society in general but the question remains - does The World Of Progress have the patience and tolerance for this to occur?
(Extract from The Social State by Dr. C. Haalsbaad: New Iceland Press)

Brainwasters - woah... do not piss these dudes off! Fine if you like leather and being gobbed on, otherwise my advice is: get the fuck outta their way.
(Time Out - Jan. 882)

Spreading his arms wide Moose looks up at the night sky and screams at the rain that soaks him. He circles slowly, enjoying the feeling of the water running over his face, the rain caressing the garish scars surrounding his eyes; he fills his lungs and shouts again, a wordless cry of pure feeling expressing the joy of being alive.
"Hey freak, what's with all the noise..?"
The voice comes from behind Moose, from out of the shadows that fill the alleyway, he spins to face it, squinting into the darkness.
"Wha' - who's that?"
A figure detaches itself from the dark, steps out so that Moose can see him, his hands high in the air
"I asked you - freak - what's-with-all-the-noise...?"
"I don't know who you are pal but call me freak again and you're history."
Moose reaches into his jacket feeling for where the FEN hangs in its holster,
"Ohhhhhhh look - baby's sensitive, what's up baby, doncha like the nasty man..?"
this time the voice comes from behind him; realising he is surrounded Moose spins round again his gun coming free and up, aiming into the darkness - too late...
The first round takes Moose in the chest, the jacketed bullet punching through his deathsuit and into him; the second round takes him in the left thigh dropping him to his knees; the third comes from behind pitching him face down onto the hard wet alley-floor - as he hits his pistol flies out of his hands and clatters over the concrete.
"This piece of shit's still alive"
A hand reaches down, taking a handful of Moose's hair pulling his face up towards the sky; the faint moon throws off a slight reflection from the blades of the Gash Fist as it is raised high over Moose's eyes, turns for a moment to catch more of the light - making sure that he can see it - then punches down, hard. The figure holding the Brainwaster's head lets go, letting it fall back into a puddle.
"You sure 'bout that?"
"Nope."
"Had a feelin' you might change your mind..."

The rain lashes at the window pane like the brush of witches' fingers. A man lies in bed, seemingly about to fall out of it, his arm dangling almost to the floor its skin bone-white in its paleness; his almost-feminine features, surrounded by a cloud of jet-black hair, are half-buried in a pillow. Nestled against him on the bed, almost totally buried beneath the quilt, lies a woman; she kicks out spastically in her sleep, wakes, blinks at the rain outside and curls herself further down into the bedcovers until only her hair sticks out.
"Phone."
"Mwwf..?"
"Answer the phone."
"Mnaawgh..!"
"Oh Jesus..."
She pushes out hard, the man's eyes spring open, pupil-less, he cries out and falls to the floor with a thud, picks himself up, glares balefully at the woman and reaches for the phone.
"Corson"
"Am I talking to Shira Corson"
"Yes"
"Good morning Mr Corson, I'm Dr Heywood, at the Department Of Ebb... I do hope I haven't disturbed you..?"
Who is it Shira?
Shut up Tracey "Er, no... that's alright Dr Heywood, how can I help you?"
"You have been recommended to me Mr Corson. A situation has arisen that I feel requires your particular talents; I wonder if you're free to discuss it later this morning, shall we say 8 o'clock..?"
"Er... yes Dr Heywood that'll be fine... I'll see you then."
"Who was that"
"Wouldn't you like to know..?"
"Shira...!?"
"Someone at the Department of Ebb; they'd like to see me later today."
"See you? ...What have you done now..?"
"I don't think it's anything like that - apparently I was recommended to him -"
"Who do we know that could recommend you to them?"
"I don't know sweetie - but I'll find out."
Are you coming back to bed..?
Not right at the moment...
It's nice and warm in here...
Well... maybe for a little while...

"Hello, Department of Information, how may I help you?"
"Hi, Shira Corson SCL 6C.1. I'd like to know about a Dr Heywood, he works at the Department Of Ebb."
"Yes Mr Corson you are quite correct - there is a listing for a Dr Heywood at that Department; I'm afraid anything else is above your SCL level. Have a nice day."
Hey ho...

"Hi Tarrant - how's it going?"
"Shira... do you know what time it is man...?"
"I'm really sorry if I woke you up but I've just had a phone call from Dr Heywood?"
"Wha-?"
"You know - he works at The Department of Ebb-"
"What are you going on about Shira?"
"He called me at home, said I'd been recommended to him - I don't suppose you know anything about that do you?"
"No, I don't; I don't know what the hell it is you're goin' on about but I will tell you this for free - 1, I don't like bullshit phone calls in the middle of the night; 2, I haven't been recommending you to anybody who might know this mysterious Dr Heywood or whatever and 3, if you ever want to give me shit like this again you ring me in the daytime - you hear me Shira - now piss off and let me get some sleep!"
Ooops..
How's it going Mr Detective?
Perhaps I should have let you talk to him.
You haven't upset him have you..?
Maybe just a little.

And in Downtown tonight another gallant SLA-Operative was brutally murdered by the cowardly forces of Dark Night - reporting from the scene our roving reporter Jay Walker:
Thank you Bob, well yet again Dark Night have struck from the shadows - the victim a young Brainwaster ambushed and overwhelmed by at least 5 assailants. As you can see from behind me the forces of law and order have responded rapidly and I have been informed by the Department Of Investigation that they have already apprehended the brutal and gutless murderers of this young man who has been so tragically cut down. This is Jay Walker - Downtown.
Thank you Jay. And now, before we take you to Captain Carnage, the weather with Susanne Grant -
Thank you Bob. Well people the weather for tomorrow promises to be wet but it will clear to a light drizzle in the afternoon to be followed by heavier rain in the evening. Temperatures should reach a high of 17 cooling overnight to a low of 4 degrees. Remember folks, don't forget your umbrellas.
Thank you Susanne. The weather report comes to you courtesy of Slam Cola™ - the alternative cola for the alternative generation. My name is Bob Leahy, this is Third Eye News, goodnight.

The Department Of Ebb stands square and gaunt in Mort Central, its gothic towers reaching skeletally toward the sky - the rain dribbling and jetting from its crouching gargoyles, pouring onto the street hundreds of feet below. Like all SLA-Department buildings SCAF bikes patrol ceaselessly, hovering and circling around the eerie spires; unlike most Department buildings however their presence is superfluous - it would be a bold terrorist team that would assault this establishment. Primarily responsible for Mort's Ebon and Brainwaster population, it stands as a monument to the mysterious. Standing on the pavement, staring up at it, Shira can't help a shiver running across his spine; whenever he comes here - and it is as infrequently as possible - he feels subdued by the sheer weight of the building. He stands in the footprints of long-dead Ebons, he can taste the bitter-sweat tang that is the Flux signature of the Brainwaster and he can feel the sinister honey-ice regard of the Necanthrope - it is not a healthy place to linger. He stares at its towers for a moment longer then shrugs and goes up a series of marble steps into the wide and open foyer. Facing him is a large reception desk, sitting behind it answering phones or tapping at terminals sit a row of attractive Ebon women; he chooses one of them, she looks to be no older than 17, her flame-red hair incongrous in the sombre surroundings, and coughs softly to take her attention from the flickering screen of her terminal. She turns, looks him up and down and smiles.
"Hello handsome. What can I do for you?"
"I'm here to see Dr Heywood."
"Just a moment - ah, you must be Mr Corson. Well, sir, if you'll just go down the corridor you'll find the lifts - Dr Heywood is in room 427; you can't miss it, his name's on the door. If you want anything just give me a call..."
"Thank you"
He turns and walks towards the lifts, her gaze follows him for a little while then she turns and holds the solemn gaze of the receptionist sitting next to her - they stare at each other for a second then, simultaneously, giggle, the red-head blushing a shade to match her hair - their laughter falling upon the still, dry air.
The elevator softly chimes, its doors open onto a plushly-furnished lobby. A long corridor stretches away from Shira, he walks along it until he comes to a door marked with Dr Heywood, he pauses for a moment then enters. A serious-looking woman glances up from her terminal, regards him coolly, then smiles.
"Mr Corson? Go right in, Dr Heywood is expecting you. Can I get you anything to drink - tea, coffee?"
"Coffee'll be fine."
"How do you take it - cream, sugar..?"
"Just a little cream thanks."
"Fine, I'll bring it in for you."
Shira nods and turns to the inner door, he goes in. A sombre-suited Ebon, late middle-aged, his greying hair in a conservative cut stands, offers Shira his hand; Shira takes it, his handshake is firm, brief.
"Good morning Mr Corson, I trust you had no problems finding me - has Sally offered you anything to drink?"
he pauses a moment, looks towards the door, presses a switch on his intercom
"make that 2 coffees Sally. Now I expect you're wondering why I've asked you to come here today."
"The question had crossed my mind"
"Do you watch Third Eye regularly Mr Corson - you don't mind if I call you Shira do you? - follow the news reports..?"
Sally comes into the room carrying a tray holding coffee-related items. At a gesture from Dr Heyward she puts it on the desk by Shira and leaves.
"Not really. If it's on I watch but it's usually all the same old shi-, stuff - why?"
"Did you manage to see any of the reports this morning..? Oh, help yourself to coffee by the way.
"I caught the tail end of something just after you woke me up but that's all - what's this about Doctor, is it important..?"
Dr Heywood sighs, looks down at a folder which lies in front of him on the desk, pushes it towards Shira. The older Ebon gets up and walks over to the office's solitary window, he stands there, his back to Shira, staring out into the heavy skies. Shira has opened the folder, is looking at a photo of a dead Brainwaster, his head separated from his body. He takes a sip of coffee.
"The young man you're looking at Shira, was called Moose. He was 18 years old, SCL 10.3, and was killed at 2.15 this morning - we know the time so exactly because his watch was broken in the attack. We put out a standard release to Third Eye stating that it was a Dark Night attack and we'd already apprehended the terrorists etc. The fact is we don't know who committed the assault... Forensic evidence suggests that there were at least 2 of them - he was shot with 10 mil. HEAP from 2 directions, rounds fired from a FEN 603 or similar. Moose was still alive when they cut off his head, the nature of the wound suggests that a GASH fist was used. Now it isn't unusual for Dark Night et al. to use SLA weaponry - what is unusual is that we haven't been able to pick up any traces of the attackers at the scene - no forensic evidence at all."
"He was alone..?"
"Apparently he'd been playing cards with some friends of his in a bar Downtown - The Black Dog in Sector 3, 5-8 Charlie; it's a particular Brainwaster haunt, I don't know if you're familiar with it, no? never mind - we're interrogating them now but I don't think we'll get anything..."
"You don't think that it might have been an argument that got out of hand; it wouldn't have been the first time that 2 Brainwasters drew down on each other..."
"No Shira, we don't think that's what happened at all. You see Moose is the third Brainwaster to be killed this week, he's the twentieth this month - all killed in a similar manner, that is no witnesses, all killed when they were on their own and killed professionally; they never got a chance to fire back. Someone is killing Brainwasters and I want you to find out who it is."
"Why me - surely you have your own Ops. for this kind of business?"
"You came highly recommended Shira-"
"That's something I wanted to take up with you Dr Heyward - you said that I'd been recommended to you when you called me; I've already called my agent and he swears it wasn't him and I wasn't aware that I had any particular friends in the Department - so who gave you my name?"
Heyward turns from his contemplation of the rain, faces Shira, a slight smile plays for a fraction of a second over his lips; he pauses before speaking, looks at Shira over the rim of his cup. Shira blinks, he can't remember the older Ebon taking a cup from the tray.
"A young lady of our mutual acquaintance - she was very impressed by your... tenacity in a case a few months ago involving a certain Dark Night agent; she felt that you might be suitable to look into this little matter for me."
"I see. Will I get to meet her myself?"
"If you succeed I'm sure she'll be only too delighted."
"Fine."
"So will you take the case?"
"Yeah, why not - I haven't anything else planned..."
"Very well. You may consider the BPN to be a Platinum - that is to say you are working for, and directly responsible to, the Department Of Ebb. I believe that you are currently SCL of 6C.1; finish this satisfactorily and you will be looking at a SCL of 6D.1 with concommitant financial rewards - you will find that this will significantly aid your agent, Tarrant isn't it? in landing the sponsorship deal with BLA that he has been working on - and you may also find Dark Lament looking with interest in your direction. You will report directly to this office - if you contact any other department in the course of this investigation you will inform me; conversely if you are contacted by any other agent or agency it will have been approved by me. You may view, with the deepest suspicion, any individual who tries to reach you without my prior authorisation. Standard SLA forms and conditions apply of course. Are there any people that you wish to accompany you on this BPN?"
"Only one, my partner Raven, aka Blonde, aka Tracey Smith - SCL 7D.7; she can be reached at this number..."
"I see - do you want to contact her now or do you have Power of Attorney for her?"
"Give me a moment."
Tracey
Shira - what now?
Fancy going on a Platinum?
Hmmm?
Someone's killing 'Wasters and the Department wants me to look into it; do you want to join me?
Have you signed already?
Yes.
She sighs dramatically.
I suppose I'd better go with you - God knows what'll happen to you if I leave you on your own...
Thanks Mum.
Wha-!!!!
"I'll sign for her"
"Okay Shira if you'll just sign here and here, and your thumbprint here, thank you; now shall I upload the file to you at your home address?"
"Okay."
"Well then, I think that's everything; stay in touch Mr Corson, I'll contact you if anything new comes to the Department's attention."
Shira leaves the office. Dr Heywood stares at the closed door for a second, then turns in his chair, regards his reflection in the mirror that fills one wall; his eyes form a question. The mirror splits, opens into a doorway, through it a tall Brainwaster walks, the door closes behind him to leave a seamless mirror once more. The Brainwaster stands looking down upon Dr Heyward, his Deathsuit a pale grey matching the mane of hair that falls to his waist, his pale yellow eyes meet the older man's, blink, and turn to study the rain against the office window.
"Well, Peter, what do you think?"
"He'll do. Do you think he'll have a problem working with a 'Waster"
"That's up to you. From his records it seems he had ... difficulties in his childhood with his older brother Jordan - but then you've read the file..."
"I can see the resemblance... well, we'll just have to see won't we. When and where do I meet him?"
"Leave that to me."
"I notice you didn't give him all the facts..."
"I think it's better he finds them out for himself - his profile suggests he will be more... committed if he thinks he's breaking new ground..."
"Fine... whatever you think best."

Shiver Foot Patrol Charlie 2 - 6 to Control - body identified as Brainwaster, male, approximate age 22; I've left Peterson and Daniels with the body, we're pursuing a suspect, looks to be wearing colours, possibly 'Traffic - individual has ducked into an alleyway, er... looks like it leads to A.L. Chemicals, we're follo-
Control to Charlie 2 - 6, your message interrupted please repeat -
Control to Charlie 2 - 6, your message interrupted please repeat -
Control to Charlie 2 - 6 please respond...
All units in the vicinity of A.L.Chemicals, 8-2 Hotel, investigate break in transmission of Foot Patrol Charlie 2. Use caution.
...
Control, this is SCAF Patrol Zebra 3, we're holding over 8-2 Hotel. I see 4, no make that 5, repeat 5 Shivers down in an alleyway; goin' in for a closer look - cover me Phil. - Control, confirm 5 Shivers down, looks like major small arms. No movement, repeat, no movement from any of the bodies.
Roger Zebra 3, stay on station until medical units arrive.
Roger Control.

"Do you have any idea of the number of Black Dogs in this city?"
"Tracey..."
"Shee-ra..."
She pouts and runs a hand through her mass of black hair, poses with her hand on her hip, her head on her shoulder, regards him
"The Black Dog, yeah I know it - that place has been a 'Waster bar since I was a little girl... probably before. You know that whole area is 'Traffic territory - I ran some Ops down there before I met you - let me make some phone calls, arrange a meet."
"You do that."
She goes into the bedroom, rummages in her overnight bag for awhile; she comes up with a mobile and dials, holding it closely to her ear, watching Shira through the doorway all the while. Tracey speaks into it, her voice quiet, head nodding; in all she dials three numbers, the third has her frowning at Shira but then her face brightens and she smiles and hangs up.
"Well sweetie, it's all arranged - we meet Marko at The Cathedral tonight at 2"
"Who's Marko?"
"Just a guy I know..."
"..."
"Okay, okay - he's the Trafficker's lieutenant in that area; he controls their protection deals, the pimping, drugs - that kind of thing."
"And you know him from when you were down there?"
"Yeah... look Shira, it's cool, he knows all about us - we had a thing once but that was then, this is now you know..."
"So long as he knows that"
"Shira-"
she presses herself against him, stroking his face
"-you're the only one I love, my darling - only you..."
Shira takes her by the hair, kisses her fiercely, leads her by the hand to the bedroom...

A woman's voice, slurred, dragging itself up from someplace miles away from the light.
"Yeah..?"
"Is Cortez there?"
"Who wants to know..?"
"Tell him it's Shira."
She puts the phone down. Silence. Cortez:
"Heey, my man Shee-ra, you caught me out dude - doin' a little biz-ness - you know..?"
"Yeah - look, are you straight enough to do some work for me?"
Giggles. "Ye-ah sure, nah nah nah shushhh, I'm talkin' here-" More giggles.
"I'll call you later."

"Shira? this is Dr Heyward, there's been a development; can I meet you tonight, 11 o'clock, in The Fallen Angel? Fine."

Eleven o'clock at The Fallen Angel - Mort Central's most fashionable Ebon nightclub. Shira and Raven pass easily through the crowd of Ops and assorted Ebon groupies, after all it's still early in the evening - the club is only just warming up; he heads for the quieter bar, feeling that perhaps Dr Heyward would prefer to avoid the crush and noise of the main floor, catches a bartender's eye.
"Dr Heyward?"
The woman nods in the direction of some moodily-lit booths, Shira turns towards Raven
"Do you want to come with me?"
She turns and stares hard at a woman who is nonchalantly running her hand up over Shira's thigh
"I think so"
she wraps her arm possessively around his waist as they walk in the direction of the booths.
"You know this is not the most professional of images..."
"I don't care"
"Tracey..."
"Ohhh, alright then. Perhaps you'd prefer me to walk 7 paces behind you as well..?"
"Now there's an idea..."
She pointedly ignores him.
Shira looks around the booths searching for a grey-haired Ebon, failing to find him turns towards Raven
"Curious..."
Shira becomes aware of a tall figure standing, regarding them silently
"Can I help you?"
"That depends... Mr Corson? My name is Peter Wolfe, that's Wolfe with an 'e'. I'm afraid Dr Heyward couldn't make it so he sent me in his stead; I do hope you aren't too disappointed... Ms Smith - the photos in your file do not do you credit. I'm sorry to come unannounced like this but as Dr Heyward mentioned to you there has been a development in your BPN - now, before I begin, would the two of you like a drink..?"
He gestures towards the table in front of him, Shira turns inquiringly towards Raven but she is already sitting down. Shira takes a place next to her.
"Rum and coke, double"
"Vodka martini"
Peter Wolfe stares at a waitress for a second, she starts as if she'd been pinched and turns a frosty glare upon him but he outstares her and she goes to the bar. Raven smiles. Shira raises an eyebrow. The waitress returns with their drinks, notably she serves Wolfe first; he raises it to his lips, considers Shira and Raven
"Salut"
they regard him silently for a moment before following suit.
Shira is the first to put down his glass
"So what's the development that's brought you here?"
"Not one for small talk I see - very well - "
the 'Waster reaches into his long coat, pulls out a plain envelope and lays it on the table in front of Shira
"if you'll have a look inside..?"
Shira lifts the flap that seals the envelope
"Who is this?"
"That - is the development."

Downtown. Rain. An alleyway strewn with garbage.
An old fire-escape, rusty.
The building, long condemned but still undemolished.
A single room. Unfurnished but for a single chair.
And a bare lightbulb.

"So who is this guy?"
Shira looks up at Raven's question; she holds one of the photos that he has spread across the table - alternately taken from a number of angles they show a light-haired Ebon, his face pale, attractive. Obviously taken without the subject's knowledge they show him sitting at a table in an Uptown café talking to another Ebon; another shows him about to enter a doorway in deep shadow, his coat collar turned up around his ears; a third talking to a human, the pair of them walking in the middle of a crowd.
Wolfe turns to her
"His name is Gabriel Pearson - or at least it was when he worked for us. The photos you're looking at were from an IAD investigation into him that was ongoing when he disappeared two weeks ago."
"Disappeared?"
"Yeah... he slipped out right beneath the noses of those assholes from IAD - didn't you use to work for Internal Affairs Shira? - apparently they were getting real close when pfft... We had a tracker on him for a little while but the trace dried up in Downtown. Four days later the Ebon we'd used to trace him vanished - current whereabouts unknown..."

Strapped to the chair a young man, his clothes a tattered assortment of black-and-white highlighting the scattered bloodstains.
Three figures surrounding him, their shadows sharp in the harsh glare of the bulb.
"L-look I've told you everything you want to know - just don't hurt me any-anymore... please...?"
"One more question - where's the woman who saw us; where's Stacey?"
"W-who?"
A shadow moves close, fast, the man screams, struggles in the chair. A fresh line of blood decorates the black-and-white.
"I don't fucking know!!! Please - I don't know - you've got to believe me..!"
"We don't have time for this."
"Any suggestions?"
"Gabriel? - one for you I feel..."

"He used to work for you..?"
"Yeah-" Wolfe drawls
"do you want to tell me a little more about that?"
"- that's just what I'm trying to do" Wolfe glares at Shira who sits back and smiles.
"Gabriel Pearson used to be an Operative before he retired and joined the Department. We used him in several capacities - he specialised in spheres of interest involving Downtown and gained a lot of trust within the Company. All went well until the beginning of this year and then we started to lose personnel in operations that Pearson was running - nothing too untoward or beyond our established attrition rate but there was a feeling, you know, and the decision was made to have him investigated. The rest, as they say, is history..."
"What was his SCL when he disappeared?" Raven asks.
"4A.2. Yeah," says Wolfe, noting the looks on their faces, "like I said, he'd gained a lot of trust..."
"So it's likely he's still got contacts within the Department?"
"We-ll, IAD are trying to run them down now but... yeah, I'd say it's more than likely."
"Great."

One of the figures steps closer, the light turning his pale hair white, leaching his skin of any colour as he reaches a hand towards the man's face his fingers resting against the youth's tightly-shut eyes.
"Loyalty to your friends is a commendable thing... but I'm afraid I have a need to know..."
A high-pitched scream followed by low sobbing.
Silence. The scurrying of rats. Rain drumming against garbage skips.
A single pistol shot.

"Hey Shira, you know what they say - if you can't take a joke you shouldn't have joined..."

"Shall we take him now?"
"You are so impetuous Purcell... Let me make some phone calls, see how things are going..."
"Whatever you say Gabriel - you're in charge."
"That's right..."

"Well Wolfe, I'd like to say that it's been a pleasure - but it hasn't."
Wolfe grins.

The Cathedral is a cavernous warehouse converted into a nightclub. The decoration and atmosphere is pure Gothique - dark and moody - which has made it popular as an Ebon club, well over half the clientele are Ebons, many of them SLA employees slumming it in Downtown. One of the reasons it is so popular amongst this client base is directly related to its ties with Kross Town Traffic - one of the major gangs that infest Mort Central - street name for its members 'Traffickers. The day before the club opened for business a few 'traffickers had a meeting with the owner who duly arranged a fee that would protect his business from any incidents... Ms. SLA secretary knows nothing of this arrangement but she does know that The Cathedral is a safe place to go for an evening's entertainment - she can look out of the taxi's window at the sleaze and urban decay that is Downtown and feel a shiver run down her spine at the thought that she is partying in the midst of it all without the concommitant risk of rape, mugging or other forms of violence that are a way of life for its inhabitants. In this she is mistaken - the club practises mugging in its subtlest form - if payment is made by Finance Card, and what SLA employee doesn't pay this way, the bill is inflated by 200%; but then, unlike so many in Downtown, they can afford it...
The weatherman got it right - rain, as always, sheeting against the toughened glass of the taxi's windows - Raven turns to Shira
"I think it's best if you let me do all the running with Marko -"
"What's up - is he going to be jealous or something?"
" - no, nothing like that, it's just that he knows me... If we're going to get any help from him it's important that he feels in control."
"Fine. Whatever you say..."
she looks at him, takes his hand and squeezes it, her eyes losing their customary light; hesitant, for a moment, lost. He squeezes her hand in return, briefly, letting go before turning his face towards the window. She sighs
"I didn't mean it like that"
"Didn't you?"
"No..."
Shira - why are you treating me like this..?
I don't ... know. I've just got this feeling - like that thing with Whisper... Wolfe knows more than he's saying and I've got this nagging voice in the back of my head saying we're being set up...
He takes her hand, brings it his lips, kisses it
I'm sorry sweetie
It's alright... Look - let me talk to Marko, see what he's got to say; why don't you try to find out more about this Gabriel character hmm?
Yeah. Okay - I'll do that. Shall I give you a call later?
You can come back here if you like - how about 4 o'clock?
Alright then - take good care sweetie.
Later hon'
She pecks him on the cheek, opens the door and steps out. The hem of her dress rides up displaying a slender well-proportioned thigh; she turns back towards Shira, smiles
Don't be late...
and flounces up the steps towards the waiting bouncers who eye her appreciatively.
Shira grins to himself, shakes his head ruefully and reaches inside his coat for his 'phone.

"Are the tracers working?"
"Yeah, they'll last about 24 hours before they're flushed out of their systems."
"And they don't suspect?"
"No. Shira's suspicious but he can't have anything concrete yet."
"Good."
"It's a pity about the girl..."

"Hey Tarrant, how's it going?"
"Shira - I've been tryin' to get hold of you man, where you been at..?"
"Ohh, here and there you know - we're still on this thing for the Department-"
"Yeah..?"
"and that's why I'm calling - do you think you can drum up any information on a Gabriel Pearson, SCL 4A.2, used to work for the Department before he disappeared; spent a lot of time in Downtown."
"Hmmm, you know I don't hang around there much"
"yeah, don't worry about that - I'll cover that end - I just want you to see if you can work up some general background-"
"I'll see what I can do-"
"and by the way, he's being investigated by IAD so tread carefully..."
"Wha-? see you Shir-"
"Hey! I'm covering the Downtown angle I just want you to see if he's got any friends Uptown - you let me worry about IAD okay..?"
"I don't know Shira..."
"Tarrant - you'll be all too keen to take your commission and tout our services when we wrap this up... Just get on the phone, talk to some of your friends, get me some names - okay..?"
"Okay."

"Tracey! It's been tooo long babe - how you been keepin'..?"
Marko leaps over the back of his seat and hugs Raven; he's about her age, stands a foot above her head, handsome, his clothes hand-tailored - expensive.
"What're you havin' to drink..? here take a seat -"
He gestures at the two girls who were sitting by him to move up, reluctantly they comply
"Same ol' puppy-dog charm Marko... vodka martini please"
Raven glides past the girls, slides in next to him. Marko looks up at one of the men standing behind him, points a finger imperiously at the bar, the man leaves returns a little later with their drinks; at a pointed look from Marko the girls leave. The smile fades from Marko's face -
"So what brings you down here Tracey?"
"It has been a long time Marko..."
"Yeah..."
"You look like you're doing well."
"I survive."
She looks around at the three young men conspicuously surrounding them
"So I see..."
"Hey, we all make enemies you know..."
"Yeah..."
He looks at her, puts down his glass
"Well it's been good seein' you again bu-" she puts her hand over his
"What do you know about the Black Dog killings..."
Marko eyes slide from hers, look down at his drink, gaze out across the dancefloor
"The Black Dog huh...?"

"Internal Affairs - how can I help you?"
"I'd like to speak to Willard Browning please."
"Who shall I say is calling?"
"Shira Corson."
"Hold the line."
"Shira?"
"Hello Willard."
"It's late."
"I know that."
"Haven't heard from you for quite awhile,"
"Yes, I'm sorry about that Will-"
"so what can I do for you Shira?"
"Raven and I are working on a BPN that has crosslinks with your department and I was hoping that you could give me some information on some of the people involved."
"What's the BPN?"
"It's a Platinum for the Department Of Ebb - we're looking into the murder of some Brain Wasters."
"Uh-huh...Are you calling me from your mobile?"
"Yes."
"Alright. I'll be back in my office tomorrow at 12 - see me there - 'bye Shira."

"Do you remember Johannsen and that crazy blonde he used to run around with?"
Marko appears to be talking to himself; Raven sits back regards him silently.
"like, we all knew she was his sister but noone was goin' to say anything - man, when I heard he was dead... Tell me Tracey, is it good working for Mr SLA; was it worth it, leaving us - leaving me..?"
"Sometimes..."
He looks at her, his eyes - for a fraction of a second - hurt, then cold again; the corner of his mouth flicks up in a smile.
"Yeah..." He pauses before continuing "have we changed that much then... 'member Trisha? She joined same time as you - disappeared six months ago beyond the wall... Sometimes it seems like Mr SLA's eating up all our best people..." He hesitates, his eyes boring into Tracey's, "...if it came down to it, if I was in the shit... would you take me in..?"
Now it's Tracey's turn to look at her glass before meeting his gaze, her eyes soft like her voice when she answers him
"No Marko, I wouldn't... but someone would."
he takes her hand, his eyes close betrayed by the single tear that rolls from beneath his lids. When they open again his hand rests upon hers, he raises it to his lips, kisses the finger-tips, smiles
"So long as I can trust you Tracey... As I remember you always liked to dance... shall we?"
She smiles, his arm moving around her as he leads her onto the dance floor.

Slumped in a chair Shira dials Raven's number; for the third time he gets the tone that tells him that she has switched her phone off. The flat is darkened, he sits staring at the window in front of him the sky paling to a dull grey as dawn breaks - he reaches for the tumbler on the table next to him, the bottle half-empty...

Where's the girl?
I can see her now.
Good.
He's got company.
How many.
Two. They're armed.
I'd be surprised if they weren't, it shouldn't be a problem - the team is in position..?
Of course.
...
Can you see the man.
Tricky - he's just going into IAD .
That was to be expected - let me know when he leaves.
Shall I take him out?
No. Just let me know when he's clear.

Marko moves on in front of her, turning he grins
"Here with you, like this, it's just like the old days"
his two men, one in front one behind, their guns sweeping the alleyway as they move - their caution in stark contrast to the gaiety of Marko's mood. They come to a doorway, stop on either side, wait for Marko to bang on the metal with his fist
"You'll like Stacey"
the laughter in Raven's eyes turning to horror as the man in front of her is bowled over his head bursting apart from the impact of the 12.7 millimeter round by her side the other bodyguard is on the floor his legs kicking spastically in his deaththroes Marko is staring into the muzzle of a Blitzer the owner standing in the doorway his hair pale like his skin his deathsuit a mottled fractal landscape of colour.
"Ah, Ms Smith too - good, that saves us the trouble of coming for you. Do not move Marko. Cadence - if you would like to look after her?" He nods to the Ebon behind Raven - she steps forward, Raven still frozen with shock, something in her hand raised sweeping in towards Raven's neck Marko tracking this with his eyes turning in a fluid swirl of white-and-black sweeping to intercept
"Tracey!!!"
one-two-three times he is hit his blood spattering over Raven's face falling at her feet Raven coming out of shock reaching for her gun
Shir- !
her voice in his head startling him the coffee cup in his hand tipping spilling - as the hypo in Cadence's hand makes contact with her neck and Tracey slumps to the floor - coffee staining the desk-top Willard swearing grabbing papers staring at Shira's face.

"I thought you wanted to keep him alive Gabriel?"
"No matter -"
The Ebon in the fractal-patterned Deathsuit stares down at Marko's crumpled corpse
"we can get what we want elsewhere."
He stares at Raven's slumped body, looks at Cadence the Ebon woman who is holding her.
"It's more important that we keep this one safe - for the moment at least."
"And the human inside?"
"Kill her, she's served her purpose."

"What the fuck was that about Shira?!"
"Tracey - she's in trouble. I can't reach her Willard - that means she's either unconscious or dead..."
"...Right."

They're moving out.
Casualties?
None in their team - the 'Traffickers are down.
And the girl?
They've taken her with them.
...
Is the Tracer working?
Partially - we're reading a vague signal from Sector 2, 3-4 Delta - some disused warehouses in that part of Downtown.
Figures...
We'll have to wait until the other one is taken before we can be certain of a fix.
Can you be sure that the tracer'll still be active by then.
Let us worry about that - we have a team of ... specialists in charge of the situation.
I see...

"- we had Pearson under surveillance for months, even before we were called in by the Department Of Ebb. We'd captured a ranking Dark Night Operative and under interrogation he let slip that there was a high-level mole in the Department. We initiated an investigation into several individuals and Pearson came up as prime suspect. Two months later the Department called us in - which in itself was suspicious... I think that there's another mole
and he's still within the Department."
"Any proof?"
"Nothing concrete - as yet - but we're working on it."
"You think that the mole called you in so Pearson could keep tabs on the investigation?"
"Looks like it - we were getting close, real close, and then he disappeared."
"And the mole's still there?"
"Makes sense-"
"What are you doing about that."
"there's an operation in progress - Shira, are you okay?"
"How do you mean - about Tracey? Falling apart isn't going to help her now is it Willard..."
"Let me make a phone call -"
He speaks quietly into one of the phones on his desk, turns to his terminal, studies it for a few moments.
" - her LAD tracker hasn't been activated yet, if that helps."
"Thank you."
"Do you want me to put out an all-points?"
"That would be good of you - but I don't think she's in any immediate danger..."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Just a feeling..."
They stare at each other for a moment, their faces blank masks; Shira gets up from his chair
"Well Willard, I'll be in touch..."
"Shira, before you go - we arrested a man this morning who was making enquiries about Pearson - name of Tarrant, claims he knows you...?"
Shira smiles, briefly
"Yeah I know him, fact is I asked him to make some enquiries-"
"You want I should let him go?"
"If you could keep him safe for the next couple of days?"
"I can do that."
"I'll be seeing you Willard..."

He's gone.
Fine - I imagine Pearson will be in touch with him shortly.
This had better work - those two are friends of mine.
Don't worry, it's all taken care of; I must admit that I'm surprised by your concern - considering you proposed them for the operation in the first place...

Shira looks back at the building that houses Internal Affairs, stares up at his friend's office and shakes his head sadly before turning back and walking into the crowds.
"Mr Corson?"
the blonde Ebon walking alongside him enquires, Shira looks at him, takes in the fractal patterned Deathsuit, carries on walking towards the Subway, speaks in a quiet voice
"Mr Pearson."
a look of surprise flashes across Gabriel's face, he grins
"Well done Mr Corson, or may I call you Shira?"
"No."
"Very well, as we're such civilised men I trust we can forego the usual dramatics such as reaching for your pistol - I don't wish to be so tacky as to use threats, Shira - you should know I wouldn't come here alone and it would be such a shame if the lovely Ms Smith should get injured through some ill-considered action on your part... Tch, tch Shira, you're letting your emotions show. Just relax - that's better; although I do sympathise - if I were attached to such a delightful young lady I would be worried sick should she suddenly disappear... I do hope you won't mind me saying but it was dreadfully remiss of you to let her go off on her own like that - who knows what terrible, terrible things might have happened to her - these are such vicious times we live in..."
"What - do - you - want Gabriel...?"
"My dear boy, haven't you guessed yet..? I want you. Now, if you'll just come with me."
Blink - the two Ebons vanish. Long immune to such sights the bustling commuters don't even break step...
Shira is standing in an open warehouse, surrounding him packing crates, old machinery, rusting chains, Ebons...
"If I may have your gun..?"
A demand, not a question, no matter how soft the voice. Shira pulls his Blitzer out hands it, butt first, to the woman in front of him.
"Thank you Cadence. Well Shira, what do you think?"
Gabriel steps aside, revealing Raven bound to a chair, slumped, unconscious, a man standing behind her his Blitzer dangling nonchalently, ready for use.
"Is she hurt?"
"We haven't laid a finger on her Shira... yet."
"You're a dead man Pearson."
Gabriel laughs. "If you knew how many times I've heard that phrase... and guess what Shira, I'm still here... now what do you reckon your chances are..?"

That's it - we have a definite fix.
So you're going in?
Not yet.
What??!
Be patient Wolfe.

"- so you see Shira, the more time I spent working for SLA the more sense Dark Night made... I suppose it was only a matter of time really before I turned and with the help of my friends in the Department... well..."
"Well what - you turned murderer?"
"Murderer... Shira your hypocrisy disappoints me, I thought you knew me better than that - and how much blood do you have on your lily-white hands...?"
"The only people I've killed-"
"Deserved killing - oh please Shira, give me some credit... Wha-?"
Several of Pearson's supporters have turned to look at the grey-haired Ebon who has materialised in the centre of the warehouse, without acknowledging them he strides straight towards Gabriel
"Wolfe's disappeared."
"So..?"
"So..?? Don't you think that warrants more than a 'so?' - he knows all about us for Christ's sake."
"He knows about you and me, Heyward, that's all - he doesn't know anything about this place."
"I told you I didn't trust him."
"Heyward, I really don't give a fuck about who you do or don't trust - I'm in charge here remember and I'm telling you that it doesn't matter whether Wolfe has turned or not; we'll find him, okay?"
"I never understood why you wanted a 'Waster in your team anyway."
"Heyward, you're beginning to bore me. Purcell, bring our friend a drink. And Shira, would you like something..?"
"Shira?! What's he doing here."
"Hello Doctor Heyward and how are you doing?"
"Have you gone mad Gabriel - why have you brought him here - you know that IAD are following him."
"Mr Corson is my guest, Heyward, I invited him here - which is more than I can say for you - I thought it would be fun for the two of us to have a little chat... And besides, I quite enjoy the idea of having IAD's decoy beside me-"
Shira looks at Pearson
"-oh yes Shira, I've been following you and Raven all the way down the line, not that you got that far actually - you know it was quite a sweet plan, wait for me to take the two of you out and then pounce on me red-handed as it were... but I have a feeling you'd worked all this out."
"Most of it."
"Uh-huh... but you know something? the more I saw of you the more you reminded me of myself, back when I was younger, back when I believed... and I thought, what a waste - why not give you a chance, the kind of chance I had and bring you into the fold as it were..."
"You're full of shit Pearson."
"Oh yeah, you really think so Shira huh?!" Gabriel leans in towards him, his fists clenching
"And what the fuck gives you the right to say that Mr SLA. Perhaps I should do as Heyward wants eh?" he signals to the Ebon behind Raven who lifts his gun, points it at the back of her head "perhaps I should just do as he wants..."
"Don't -"
"You see Shira, this is what it's all about - power... This is what it all comes down to - out there, in the dark, in the shit - power; the power of life and death over all those little people you lord it over. Doesn't it hurt, don't you feel ashamed - you with your warrants and your BPNs - don't you feel your soul shrivelling... I've read your file, all those therapy sessions, are you still hooked on the anti-depressants? How can you face yourself each day? how can she face you each day-"
"Shut the fuck-up Pearson!"
"-and you think they care huh? The ones who know - the ones you take your orders from - you know what you are to them Shira - ? a pet, something to be used, patted on the head when you're a good boy and spanked when you're not... You bought into their game Shira - you really believe all their crap-"
"They're going to wipe you out Gabriel, you and your tiny little army - history! Christ - your petty little plans; a few Brainwaster dead, nothing! They're goin' to wipe y- "
Gabriel slaps Shira backhanded across the face, grabs a hold of his hair, pulls his face close to his own - so close that flecks of his spittle fly into Shira's eyes.
"A few Brainwaster dead... You dumb shit - you still don't realise do you? They know all about this, they know all about us. Fuck me - don't you know what we're up against, you don't do you? SLA are encouraging them to join - SLA are breeding them to replace us. Can't you see - Ebons have been replaced in the Big Picture - Mr High-and-fuckin'-mighty Slayer ain't interested in us any more, seems he doubts our commitment to the World Of Progress, seems he doubts our ability to carry on in the dirt - but the 'Wasters, oh yes, they positively lap it up, born in shit, live in shit, die in shit - reduced to shit. That's all they are - just shit, the stuff you step in and wipe off your shoe..."
"And you?"
"We - we're the last chance we've got. It's the only way - you'll see - we get rid of the 'Wasters, get rid of Mr SLA; show the whole fuckin' world what we're capable of. You'll see, Dark Night'll show you like they showed us, they showed us it all, told us all about Mr SLA, oh yes, you wait - it'll open your fuckin' eyes wide man, real wide - you just ain't got a fuckin' clue but you'll see, oh yes, just like me, you'll see..."
It's time
The voice in Shira's head like a whisper carried on the wind. The gem on Gabriel's arm glows, he glances at it his eyes widen his arm coming up pointing the muzzle of his Blitzer straight at Shira's chest
"You fuck!"
his finger tightens, Shira is blown backwards his arms flying out as he crashes to the floor, his head hitting the floor with a sickening crack; the Ebon standing over Raven fires, the bullet smashing her head to one side blood jetting in an arc away from her she is thrown forward in the chair spinning it too crashing to the floor her body slumped he takes aim at her again but before he can fire is lifted up and thrown flying across Shira's arc of vision and dissolving into a red spray Shira is hit again his body jerking under the impact and then the room is filled with the sounds of screaming as surrounding him the rogue Ebons react to the terror filling them one babbling as his nails gouge into his face another spraying fire across the room hitting a kneeling, sobbing Ebon knocking him down dead Gabriel stands staring in awe at the figure towering over him, his eyes widening in fear as the figure lifts his arm, raises his hand over Gabriel's head, springing from it, like snakes, five obscenely-glossy red tendrils which drive into Gabriel's face and lift him thrashing and shrieking into the air; Gabriel's legs kick for a few moments then hang limp. It is over.
Shira lies in a pool of blood murmuring to himself, his arms spreadeagled, his fingers scratch at the floor trying to find purchase and failing; he tries to raise his head, look towards Raven, but doesn't have the strength. His eyes close, his head falling gently back upon the floor. A shadow falls over him, his eyes open and he sees an angel standing there looking down with concern. Shira smiles, coughs, his eyes close then open as he frowns, whispers thickly through the blood that dribbles over his lips
"Tracey...?"
She is safe little one. She will recover, as will you. You did well Shira.
Now, rest...
Shira's eyes close, the Ebon's body seems to relax; his breath sighing from his mouth. The angel looks up and gazes at his companions, each of them mirroring his almost perfect beauty, he blinks and nods - one-by-one they vanish until only he and Shira remain and then - blink - they too vanish.
Only the dead remain.