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- From: rowanf@crc.ricoh.com (Rowan Fairgrove)
- Newsgroups: alt.callahans
- Subject: Re: Danger Rm Run
- Message-ID: <1992Dec30.185335.22615@crc.ricoh.com>
- Date: 30 Dec 92 18:53:35 GMT
- References: <1992Dec30.014748.15898@crc.ricoh.com>
- Sender: news@crc.ricoh.com (USENET News System)
- Reply-To: rowanf@crc.ricoh.com (Rowan Fairgrove)
- Organization: RICOH California Research Center
- Lines: 68
- Nntp-Posting-Host: rowan.crc.ricoh.com
-
-
- Arcing around the winding mountain roads, feeling the tingling
- roar of the hog between her thighs, it was hard not to give in to
- the bliss of the ride. Cold winds with only a hint of urban
- effluvia sent tendrils blowing under her helmet forming a contrast
- to the warmth of the leathers and the straddled engine.
-
- Tinker lets the Zen of the ride enfold her but extends out her
- awareness of the landscape so that no trap can catch her unaware.
- Across the fold of the mountain she sees a tell-tale flash of silver.
- Someone is posted in the switchback with a vantage point over the
- next turn of the road. She activates the contact in her helmet that
- will give her infrared vision in the bottom level of the visor. Shifting
- her gaze she sees only the heat signature of a single human. Flicking
- back to normal vision she evaluates the scramble potential of the
- hillside. Yes, the hog can handle it.
-
- As she glides into the hairpin turn that would carry her into range
- of the watcher, she leans the bike and hotdogs over the shoulder
- and comes down across the scrublands neatly turning the tables
- on the man crouching behind a small blind.
-
- Ohayo gozaimasu. Tinker ironically greeted the man over the roar of
- her machine. He took in her position, cross-bow to the ready and
- scrambled up with empty hands outstretched. She stared at his
- subservient posture and exclaimed, I do not have time to
- engage in odawara-hyojo (fruitless debate) with you. What is
- your purpose on this hillside!
-
- Honorable Tinker, please understand that this is but a wager on
- the part of Courier Watenabe-san and Samurai Crane-san. I am an aide
- assigned to Crane-san. I was to hide myself and attempt to shoot
- you with a tag dart so that they could follow your progress through
- the City. A confederate placed the tag on your machine eariler but
- you successfully removed it in your pre-ride preparations. I do not
- know their plans beyond my humble part in them.
-
- Tinker's eyes blazed at the names of her favorite drinking buddies.
- A trick like that could get her killed if the tag was at a common
- frequency. Crane's un-named aide grovelled a little more at her
- stern expression. She reached into a pocket of her jacket and
- pulled out a set of police bonders.
-
- Hold out your hands, useless one. As he obeyed, she slipped the
- bonders on snuggly and snapped the closure. You may hide in
- your blind until your master comes for you or you may try to
- walk back to MegaChukan Center and take your chances with others
- on the road. It matters not to me.
-
- She took the tag dart and looked at it. A smile played about her
- lips. She placed it in an inner pocket. The next vehicle she passed
- would find itself the unwitting host of this small rider. Let Crane
- and Watenabe chase after that!
-
- She swung the bike back toward the road and continued on her way.
-
- **************
-
- Gypsy (Tinker)
-
- Rowan Fairgrove
-
- *****************************************
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