"Hair of the Wolf" Reopens its doors

[Watchwolf]

Zeb slid in though the hangar's side entrance. If a man could look six ways at once he was doing it to perfection. The place was quiet.

Too quiet. "Hrmph. Like something out of an old vid... they used to call them 'movies'... B-Flicks in the ancient vernacular." Zeb mentally slapped himself. I need to stay focused...

There wasn't a person within sight nor sound. The lights were dimmed to their usual night settings, making eerie shadows in all the places a Reaver might be skulking.

Zeb crept from shadow to shadow until he was in sight of Wolf's old parking spot. There was an obviously new WA1 sitting there. Funny, that. I know that spot's not been handed over to anyone yet. Because I'm still paying for it.

He watched impatiently for what seemed an hour. More likely it was about 10 minutes. Still no one showed up. Or none that he could see. He thought of leaving but the pull of the mystery and his care for his old friend and partner wouldn't let him. Finally he made a decision. Drawing a resolute breath he stepped out into the light and approached the ship.

Standing directly in front of the ship's pointed nose he looked  those same six ways again. Still no one. But he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. He began to pace. Surely if it were Wolf he'd show, and if it was someone else who wanted to see him badly enough to make him think it was Wolf he'd show as well. Unless.... the startling thought occurred to him... unless someone wanted him here for the sole purpose of his not being someplace else. That made him all the more nervous and he began to pace more quickly.

The feeling of being watched became almost overpowering. He stopped his pacing. The tiny whir of servos was heard for a brief moment, then silence. He looked around. Nothing. He moved again. There was that sound again. Whenever he moved, he discovered, the sound was heard and when he stopped it stopped. As if a remote camera was trained on him.

That thought made him very nervous. He'd heard of assassins using remote weaponry. Not a nice thought. He could think of more than a few people who'd smile to see him dead. Right then. Enough of this. Whatever is going on, I'm not going to sit here and be a target. He turned to walk past the ship and toward the door he'd come in.

The whirring sound accompanied him. The movement caught his eye.

The ships scanning array was following him.

Zeb stopped cold. Cold was the exact word. The chill ran down his spine as the thought of a ship's scanning sensors, which were directly tied to it's targeting system, trained on him. He took a quick peek at the weapons mounts. They were empty.

Zebulon, you've been watching too many of those old movies.... He approached the ship. The scanner followed him until he was standing beside it.

Then the weird part happened. Nothing up to now was weird in comparison.

The power systems came to life. The ship's canopy opened. The ladder extended.

The ship was apparently inviting him in.

What the hell... Zeb climbed the ladder and made his way to the cockpit. There was, as he expected, no one inside. Scratching his head, Zeb sat in the flight seat.

"Hello, Zeb, ol' buddy. Good to see you again."

Zeb looked around. "Alright. Enough of this. Come on out and let's be civil about it."

The voice... Wolf's voice... chuckled. "It's alright, Zeb. There's no one here but us."

"Right. What's going on here... Wolf...?"

"Well I told you it'd be easier to explain in person."

"Wolf, where are you?"

"Right here. Zeb, you're talking to me. You're sitting in me. Sort of. Remember Annie? Well there seem to have been a few changes in how we see one another..."

Zeb's eyes widened. That's RIGHT! Annie! The one who he'd spoken with after Wolf's memorial service. She'd said his help was needed. All she asked for was access to any and all information that could be found about Wolf. Zeb had connections. Aside from his personal records and databases, he knew of more than a few others and he'd called in a favour or three and made them available to her. Then she disappeared and he'd never heard from her again.  He'd figured it was some sort of sick prank. But now he remembered something else she'd said. That she used to be Wolf's ANNI ... Artificial Neural Net Intelligence, all ships had them but Annie was different, special, sentient...  and that she'd survived the battle that killed him, that she'd been transferred to the Robot's latest and most perfect creation... an artificial organic robot.

Zeb's mind whirled like an old slot machine. Then it clicked... diamond... diamond...diamond... jackpot! If Annie had become "human"... could it be?

"Wolf? You're the ANNI?"

Zeb could swear he'd heard a smile. "Just don't call me Annie..."

[Zebulon]

Zeb got out of the chair like he had been electrocuted.   "EEEEEEEEEEEeeuarrrgghhgghgghh!" and he did a little shudder dance.   The ANNI laughed with that familiar sound.

"Aw! Wolf. Gimme a break will you! This is going to take a bit of getting used to.  I've just been sitting on you and THAT feels REALY WIERD...!"

".. Zeb, settle down mate. I have to say though, the look on your face was priceless.  That one is in the data archive for later. Now settle down or I will broad wave it all over the subnet.  Lemme tell you, this has taken a proverbial lifetime to get used to.  I can see, hear, yes and in some cases even touch and taste. Apart from the missing body thing, not much else has changed. It feels like Im in a very large and endless glass bowl.  To me I stil look the same, but its like you are all on the otherside of a giant clear interactive contact panel.  You know, the kind that get used by the big security outfits in Rheinland and Liberty.  The great thing is that on this WA1 I feel like I have got eyes in the back of my head! "

Zeb was getting used to the voice again.  He tentatively went to sit down.  "DONT sit there!" shouted the voice.  Zeb started and stood bolt upright.  Again with the laughter.  "Wise Guy! Cut that out!"  Zeb didnt know which way to turn so he didnt - he just looked at his boots and scratched his head.  

"So- let me get this straight and bear with me on this cos you know Im not the fastest thinker in the galaxy.  ANNI or Annie as we knew her has found herself in an Avatar, a construct, a cyborg, or whatever.  You. The Wolf. Watchwolf. The Wolfmeister, are now in a virtual construct and to all intents and purposes have changed places with Annie....?" Zeb looked up and saw that the small micro cameras were all trained on him. He sighed.

"Pretty much thats the case old friend.  Im still coming to terms with a great deal of this - much to learn and dont ask me about all the interactivity! I have had to block more applications and requests from other vessels than we ever had junk mail at the "Hair of the Wolf"! So Im sitting in my favourite spot. A quiet hangar, hidden out of the way for a bit." Again there was the familiar laughter. "Think of this as my "Place of Solitude" and thanks for keeping up the payments on the berth.  I get by with the darkened windows and a false covert data application that gets me past the authorities when I land.  They dont custom check me unless I have passengers and my "special" status keeps unwanted eyes out of the cockpit.  Anyway, apart from that all is pretty much as it used to be..."

Zeb just stared. He gently sat down on the bench seat in the holding area on the WA1.  No comment from Wolf.  "Phew" thought Zeb.  "Well my old friend.  This is definately going to take some time to get used to." Zebs mind raced. Then, quite unexpectedly a thought from Zeb's dim and distant past wandered across his train of thinking.  "Wolf?"

"Yes mate..what?"

"Look I know all about the AI stuff and the genetic experiments and all of that, but Im just trying to get my head round this, given that it has taken on a somewhat personal turn.  You remember a TV network series, one from the distant past? It was all about a land vehicle that spoke - an early form of interactive AI? "

"Sure! My grandad used to go on about it.  Whats your point?"

"Ok nothing real important.  Its just so I can get to grips with this whole situation. Is there some sort of Avatar on the ship you can use, at least so I can be more comfortable with all of this?"

"Hmmm... you want a string of flashing LED to light up when I talk? That sort of thing?"

"Nah! Thats a bit tacky. A projected image was more what I had in mind..?"

"Aha!" laughed Wolf. "Make your way to the cockpit. I have an excellent idea!"

Zeb went up front and sat in the pilots chair. The transponder monitor was pretty much an old and underused bit of equipment, but it had drawn Zebs attention as it started to flicker. A blurred and grained picture started to appear. It was Wolf!  He looked like he was sitting at a console with head phones on - almost as if he was in a control centre on a battleship. The picture became clearer.  It was Wolf. No doubt about that.

"Will this do ya? Its the best I could think up, means if anyone else is in the cockpit with you it just looks as if Im making a normal sub ether video contact with you.  I'll need to work on full body film projection, but if you can handle this for now then its easy enough.  It means I can "pop up" on your video phone, computer monitor, or anywhere where there is a subnet connection. That way you and me can interact.  Heck I can even get through to you visualy on your subnet handset, Try it."

Zeb took the small flip back phone out of his pocket and opend it .  It buzzed with an incoming call.  He answered it and there on the screen was the same picture he was looking at on the monitor!  "Yep! That will about do it my old friend. I can just about cope with that as an image to get my head round.  We should rename you 'Ghost Wolf'...."

"If I thought you were being funny I'd slap you. It aint been easy mate...." It was Wolf's turn to be a little put out. "Sorry, its taken a lot to get used to. The whole Ghost in the Machine idea was one I never believed and now look where I'm at!"

Zeb patted the console.  "Watchwolf, you have nothing to worry about. The "world" of AI is about to get a dose of the Wolfinator and I pity any slack security or account module that wants to get in your way!"

Again the laughter rang throughout the ship.  "Now whats the deal here Wolf? What the frack is going on?" ........

[cmdrsaman]

"Ahh, how exquisite." It was as if the taste buds in his mouth came alive after having been numb for months. Fruits, citrus and spices - that was Glenrothes all right. That made Draugr do something he very rarely did: he smiled because he was happy. He even remarked out loud:
"That was a good job, saving this one from being used in blends. Glenrothes is quite hard to find, especially these days."
He was just about to ask about the second, and most important, matter he came for, when someone from the back office came out. The guy looked like he was heading out in a bit of a hurry. Then, as he walked past Draugr, it looked like he tensed up. "Incredible, he might have recognised us for what we are", Draugr's arm remarked - but he had a bottle of scotch in his hand, and the ceiling guns weren't firing at him, so it was all good.
The guy on his way out said something else:
"Kim, make sure the big guy at the bar gets the good whiskey. I'll be right back."

That got Draugr's attention. Most importantly, it meant that they have even better scotch in stock. Second, this was probably the owner of the place, the person he was looking for. Well, that would have to wait. First things first. He turned to the bartender, and said:
"You know, he's right. This is good, and quite rare stuff, but it's about, what, five years old. I'm sure you have even better ones, even if they cost more. Surprise me..." then he flashed a grin "or I just might surprise you."
"Very well."

The barmaid left to the back, in the direction of the storeroom. However, some of the guns on the ceiling were trained on Draugr again now. He didn't particularly care, though: until the man was away, he turned to the waitress.
"That was your boss storming out just now."
That sentence would probably have sounded a lot better beginning with a "let me guess", or at least a questioning tone. But hey, for a Reaver, he was feeling very sociable now, not even wanting to tear the whole place down and take all the whisky from them - that's what the Magical Happy Drink does to him.
"Yes, sir, that was Mr. Antarxes."
The mention of his name made Draugr raise an eyebrow. He didn't know much about the man, but he did hear his name pop up at odd places: and if a name like that turns up unexpectedly in many different places, he learned to keep an eye out on them. Now, he's in his bar - a pretty low-key place for him to be spending time in. "Guess it's a small small world after all", he thought. At times, he could swear that the only real people that mattered in Sirius numbered just about one or two hundred, and the rest were just put there as filler - but those were just crazy thoughts. He turned to the attendant again. ("What was her name again?")
"I assume that if I want to buy your whole stock, or arrange regular shipments of whisky, I'll have to arrange that through him."
That one surprised her. This cloaked and scarred guy shows up, drinks half a bottle of scotch just like that, Mr. Antarxes even warns Kim about him - and now he wants to buy that much whisky? Was he kidding, or deluded? There was a way to be sure of that.
"I'm afraid you're right, sir. By the way, how will you be paying? Paper, plastic, ..."
"Cash.", Draugr cut in. "Or goods, whichever you'd prefer."
Goods? That was odd. Nobody here tried to barter. The ones who looked like they would were usually out of the bar soon enough. But if this one has cash, that does not matter. If.
"Right, sir. Before you drink that second bottle, I'll require proof that you can pay. Could I ask you to..."
Not waiting for her to finish the sentence, Draugr produced a small pouch, opened it, and showed the contents to the waitress. Even by the artificial light, there was no mistake about it: they were diamonds. She didn't look like the type to be easily taken aback, but this did the job well. ("Heh, to think they were ferrying shipments of these without escorts...")
"Er, that's, er... that will be more than enough, sir. Er, would you like me to open a tab for you?"
"I'd like to have my second bottle first. What's the hold-up?"
The barmaid just emerged from the back, bringing another scotch with him.
"Here you go. Sorry for the wait, but I do hope that you'll find it was worth it."

She didn't bring him a bottle, but a decanter. "Well, that is a surprise", Draugr thought, and he read the label. "Glenlivet 2082. Single malt scotch whisky. Distilled 2082, bottled 2115. Aged 33 years in oak casks." "Oh, yes." He'd drunk Glenlivet before, but he never could find any that was this old. And, back when he was a pirate, he couldn't have afforded it either. (The Glenrothes wasn't the cheapest ones, and this one was worth, what, five times that much?) More proof that becoming a Reaver was an excellent choice. Not to menion that after eating some pirates, he now had the constitution of one of them, meaning that he could consume incredible amounts of alcohol before getting too drunk. Who knew being a Reaver could improve your health so much? He smiled widely.
"Yes, this should do nicely. Your boss said he'll be back shortly? I'll wait for him while I sample this excellent drink."
"Very good, sir. Would you like some appetizers, too?"
Draugr looked around the bar. There were a good number of people around, even though it wasn't evening yet. He had half a mind to try some of them, see how different they taste now that his taste buds were all but revived, but he wouldn't ruin this golden opportunity just for a few snacks.
"...I see you have many, but I'll pass."

"Way to go, dropping hints like that. What, you want everyone here to know what we are?" his arm told him. He disregarded that comment, grabbed the bottle and the decanter, and made his way to the tables instead.

A section was pretty much empty, with only a man and a woman sitting there. While he took a place facing the entrance, he took measure of both people. The man was most likely a trader, but not that of the fattened kind. He was quite muscular - most of it was thanks to steroids, though. Probably cheap ones at that, too, if it was this easy to tell. The woman didn't seem to mind, she was quite enamored with him: she looked like on of those, how do you call them, trophies? Still, she looked well, and Draugr didn't care about her personality anyway. She was quite skinny, however. "Bah, what's the problem with Bretonian women these days.", he thought. Still, they looked quite yummy, and Draugr wouldn't have minded a bite - he was getting hungry, after all. He must've been staring, however, as the man and the woman regarded him with a puzzled, and a bit frightened, look. "Heh, time for a bit of fun. Been a long while since I did this anyway." So, he looked the man in the eye, then the woman, and said:
"They say that when the prey looks into the eyes of the predator, it sees its own death reflected in them, and hesitates. Personally, I think that's a fine way of putting it - what do you think?"
He was being unusually articulate now, but he found it was very worth it. The I'm-a-rich-ripped-and-powerful-go-getter guy and his woman scampered to find a place at the opposite end of the bar, and Draugr was now alone with his scotch (and his arm) to keep him company. Now it was time to pass the time drinking the Good Stuff, until either this Mr. Antarxes showed up, or something interesting happened.

[Zebulon]

...The voice that was Wolf's made what sounded like a resigned sigh.

"Zeb my old friend, looks like I am stuck inside this construct. The good bit is I can pretty much dream up whatever decor or place I want but there is no tagible solidity to it.  I know it for what it is, nothing more than an elaborate illusion..."

Zeb thought for a bit.  "So you are kinda like a program version of yourself, so to speak?"

Wolf made a small cough noise.  "Well if you put it that bluntly, yes.  I can pretty much gain access to most software systems that are not overly iced with security.  Unimportant things like repro units in catering establishments, low level password hand helds, minor computer networks and in turn that can give me an extra "leg up" if you will, into some of the higher level applications.  Computer and Virus security is as real a threat to me here as Nomads are to you out there.  The last thing I need is "wiped"!..."

"..So you do have a backup of yourself then?"

Again the sigh. "Well thats why I had to contact you.  Its not something I have been able to succesfully do here. All that unathorised access and so on.  I need you to download me somewhere accessible and in several places if possible."

"You mean like clones?"

"Not quite like that - each copy of me is me. If that makes sense. Can I exist in several places? Sure - this is cyberspace. As soon as you download my copy I can 'see' the copy and access the info. The link to 'me' makes it one with me so there is no 'clone' as such.  Leave me stand alone and its me from when we last spoke before the download. So you can safely leave me somewhere so that when I do 'reconnect' I end up with the overall information downloaded and I become 'me' again. Does that make any sense to you?"

It was Zebs turn to scratch his head. "Yep, I kinda guess so. Ok so where do you want to start with this?"

Zeb looked at his palm held processor. "Hmmm.... not to bad for starters I guess."

The interface panel popped open in front of Zeb.  "Stick the connector into the socket and we can get me backed up." said Wolf. "It won't take too long, Im a pretty fast downloader.."

Zeb smiled. "I'll get some coffee while that happens..."

Outside the hangar a figure moved into the shadows and watched the vessel intently, aware that the ship could "look" straight back, they had conceled themselves behind some crates. The man known as Zebulon Antarxes was walking around the cockpit talking, but not to himself. The scanner showed no signs of other lifeforms and there was no indications of any external information links being activated.

"Zeb, I will be out for a bit while the download happens, so I will go "offline". Keep that gun handy and the doors locked because I just detected a scanner being used on the ship.

Zeb unhooked the catch on the pistol holster and proceeded to act as if all was well, and continued making the coffee....

[cmdrsaman]

"It feels like I've been sitting here for over a year. What's the hold-up?" Draugr mused, and he wasn't even sure if he said that out loud or not. The owner of the place, that certain Mr. Antarxes, never did show up again,  even though he had been waiting for quite long. By then, it seemed that even the staff were getting worried: though they were very professional and kept their cool, he nevertheless saw the subtle signs of anxiety in the way they moved and acted. If it wasn't for that, he would've left already. He thought that something unusual must have happened, which means he picked a fortunate time to visit. However, nothing has happened so far, and he was beginning to lose his patience - he did feel like he had become rooted to the place, after all. "I think I'll wait an hour, or two, at most. Heh, at this rate, it'll feel like I'll be waiting for a week anyway. If nothing happens till then, or no interesting peeps walk in the front door, I'm outta here." He took another look at the bottle before him. "It'd be a shame though if what I heard turned out wrong, and this place turned out to be a bore. They do have the Good Stuff."

[geromix]

Lintus Pinnatus,looked at this shabby place that they call for bar. The bar owner,Zebulon,was a close a friend of his.

However,he didn't come here for a drink(now that he is here,he may have one). He came here on duty,as the Investigating Officer responsible for conducting investigations behind the mysterious disappearance of Mr.Zebulon Antarxes.

In his 10 years as an officer,he never had to investigate a case like this,a close friend,now a ''missing person''. Molly,his wife, has been quite upset with this whole affair. During their time in college,the three-Zebulon,Molly and Lintus were quite close, Lintus married Molly and the couple were in touch with Zebulon always.

He looked at the only man sitting in the bar at the moment,it feels like he has been sitting there for ages. He could see dust on the clothes of this person,the man known as Draugr. Draugr, a rather strange name,maybe not as strange as his own name,Lintus Pinnatus. What is in a name,anyway?

He proceeded towards Draugr,to ask him some questions.

[Asmodeus]

In one corner of the room, a glowing candle then a shuffle of movement, a face appears bright, bright as a burning star from behind the candle.
The Asmodeus took a drink from the glass of tequila and in a low but audible Voice.. " There Back Then "....!!!!

[Cursed_One]

A tall man entered the bar and went straight to the bartender. He didnt speak to the bartender, but nodded at the offer of a beer. He started staring around the room, looking at what kind of people were in the bar. When the beer arrived, he did not touch it. After a while he walked out of the bar, satisfied with the intel he had gathered. He had concluded that the patrons in the bar would not be suitable for his race.

[geromix]

Lintus could not believe it.
As soon as he proceeded towards ''the man with dust on his clothes'', two people came into the bar from nowhere.

Suddenly, the place is buzzing with activity. The dumb staff who knew nothing about Zebulon's whereabouts started moving around the bar with some sense of purpose.  The staff was loyal,however, they always received their pay at the end of each month from two men- strangely named as ''Strail'' and ''Vector-x''. Consequently,the staff ran the place even after the bar owner's mysterious disappearance and lack of any business.
He had to know who these two men were.

Lintus stopped in his tracks for a moment and wondered what could have kick-started this place now. Maybe it was his vehicle parked outside the bar,could have attracted people. But its a police vehicle....

Pushing such thoughts aside, he continued and was ready to talk to this mysterious man.

[cmdrsaman]

"Good evening. Mind if I ask you some questions?", the stranger said. Draugr looked up at him: the man was a cop, probably a detective. He looked wary, but he wasn't tensed for combat - not that he would've been allowed in if he were carrying weapons anyway. Feeling a bit relieved that something might finally be happening, Draugr took another look at the man, and said:
"That depends. You are...?"
"Officer Lintus Pinnatus.", the man replied, and Draugr flashed a thin grin. "Odd name for a Bretonian gumshoe. Well, Mr. Pinnatus, it never hurts to ask... in this bar." He motioned with one hand to the chair the man was standing at - their talk was probably going to be more than a few sentences anyway.
The detective sat down, and began talking. "Thanks. Now then, Mister..." "Jack Thirlwell." Draugr replied with the alias he was using at the moment. He made a note not to throw the papers away after he left this place: he might be needing them later now. "Well, Mr. Thirlwell, you look like you've been here for some time. I'm looking for the owner of this bar, Mr. Zebulon Antarxes."
Draugr snorted. "You and me both. But if you just came here, why ask me first, and not the staff?", he asked with some incredulity. The officer decided to ignore that question, as he was determined to be the one asking the questions here anyway. "You are looking for him? Why?" "I came here for two things: the drinks, and to do business with the owner of the place.", the cloaked reaver replied. The officer wanted to pressure him, so he immediately asked: "What kind of business?"
Draugr leaned back on the chair: the conversation was a welcome change of pace and interesting, if somewhat predictable. "Officer, my business with him is not your business. Suffice to say that I wanted to buy some things - you see that it was important enough for me that I'd wait around for hours for the owner to get back here." Noting that the officer wanted to ask about this, he immediately continued: "Yes, I saw him earlier. Very briefly, though. He appeared and stormed out of the place right after, and told the staff that he'll be right back." He poured some whiskey from the bottle, and noticed that it just ran empty. After drinking the remainder from the glass, he added: "I wish there were more to this particular story, but there isn't. I also wish you good luck finding the man: after you do, I'd like to speak with him too." He made a short pause: a beat, enough to register, but not really enough for the officer to make a reply. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I do need another bottle of whiskey."