spacemonkey
Official ENworld Space Monkey
The snow crunched underfoot, but Hayden barely felt the chill in the air. Glancing at his watch, he redoubled
his search efforts - scanning the square quickly. Still nothing. Perhaps this was the one - the case that
would finally beat him. It had been a long day. Maybe he should call it quits, go home. Let those smug boys
back at the office win for -- but wait, what was that there? Almost imperceptible, but could it be?
Speeding his pace quickly, he left flurries of new powder swirling behind as he neared the old gazebo. Half
buried in the snow and ice he found it. Cute little bugger, with the glasses and all. Lila always toted that
stuffed bunny about with her. If he was here, then she had been too.
But where? There were no obvious clues, and he didn't have the time for a thorough forensic search at the
moment. Too many things riding on a quick outcome. Gotta think things through logically. She'd dropped
Herbert by the gazebo. Did they grab her in the open? Risky, and she probably would have kept her grip on the
little guy anyway. So what then? Not an easy thing to get transportation in here, so they probably had to move
slow, and in the open.
Couples walked in the square, a family there (with their sniffer, a mangy but servicable bloodhound - probably a
guarddog as well). This many people now, so there would have been even more earlier. Not an easy proposition
to make off with her under those circumstances. Not unless they had some cover. They had been Russian, from
the looks of the rough but efficient entry hole near the north bridge. They were good, but probably
overconfident - maybe sloppy. Gotta be something here - I just can't see it yet...
"Aww.. they took down the pretty ballerina already." The mother bent down to kiss her child's cheek. "I'm
sorry sweetie, but I told you to hurry. They were already crating it up when I came through earlier. We'll
come tomorrow when they have something else, ok?"
The words barely registered, and the family began moving on - the father careful to put the old bloodhound
between his family and scruffy stranger poking about in the snow with that child's stuffed animal. There's just
got to be something.. ballerina? What ballerina? There, in the gazebo. scratches on the ice floor. He found
a perfect replica of a girl's mitten lying near the icy arched walls of the structure. It too was made of ice.
"Hey, you there!" He chased the family, and their protector whirled about, snapping jaws and froth flying from
bared teeth. He ignored the mutt and pulled a shiny badge from his belt. Not a perfect forgery, but enough to
fool these folks long enough to get some information.
Five minutes later he was running again. South they had said. The workers had crated up the ballerina ice
sculpture and headed south, away from the north bridge. Did they have another route ready? Or was he chasing
ghosts, already too late to do any good? He would know shortly, if he could only track them. He was starting
to feel the cold now too. And no sign yet, not the faintest clue. These guys were good, no doubt about it -
probably the best since his gig in Chile two years ago.
A smile flashed across his face. Not good enough, apparently. There, in the snow, was the faintest footprint.
Doing some quick calculations, he guessed the most likely route and sped towards the docks. He had their number
now - only one way to sneak a large crate out, and that was to hide it in with the standard cargo. Only one
place south to fit that bill...
He saw it before he hit the wharfs. A big, old-fashioned wooden mast towering above the dockside buildings.
Sure enough, she had an ice prow on the front. Heading to colder waters, fellas? Not on my watch. He slipped
aboard quickly enough. Not too much in the way of guards though. Shouldn't there be a bit more resistance?
Slinking through the narrow passages below deck, he found the cargo hold, and a large crate stashed in the
front. Last minute addition? The crowbar was still laying across the top too. The figures stole from the
shadows as he reached for it, but he was prepared for them. Kay was prepared, rather. He had always loved the
way that short, dignified figure could kick the crap out of pretty much anyone. The russians hit the floor with
a thud, one after another.
He had the crate open, and there she was. Lila, but not as she had been described. An ice ballerina, frozen in
time. He turned to see Kay standing still in the corner, that slightly satisfied smile on his face.
"Don't get cocky. I taught you everything you ever knew Kay. Let's not forget that, shall we? Now how about
an exit?"
Kay bowed slightly, then ripped a hole in the side of the ship. Light poured through the gash, and the ship
faded from view along with Kay and the ballerina.
Clark shoved his glasses up further on his nose and waited for the plastic curtain to open. These new
full-vision nano-screens were much better than the old headgear. Perhaps he'd have enough to get one of his own
after this job. He stepped into the next room. Technicians shifted their holo-views to the side and looked at
him expectantly.
"Russians, from three concurrent connections. Broke through the firewall and iced L.I.L.A., then stowed her in
the south transport grid. I k-spiked them - they won't be giving you any trouble for a while anyway. There
should be some residual data left as well. You should be able to unfreeze her with a little time. I'll expect
my pay through the usual means."
He walked out, conscious of the eyes on him. "Still got it," he thought as he left.
his search efforts - scanning the square quickly. Still nothing. Perhaps this was the one - the case that
would finally beat him. It had been a long day. Maybe he should call it quits, go home. Let those smug boys
back at the office win for -- but wait, what was that there? Almost imperceptible, but could it be?
Speeding his pace quickly, he left flurries of new powder swirling behind as he neared the old gazebo. Half
buried in the snow and ice he found it. Cute little bugger, with the glasses and all. Lila always toted that
stuffed bunny about with her. If he was here, then she had been too.
But where? There were no obvious clues, and he didn't have the time for a thorough forensic search at the
moment. Too many things riding on a quick outcome. Gotta think things through logically. She'd dropped
Herbert by the gazebo. Did they grab her in the open? Risky, and she probably would have kept her grip on the
little guy anyway. So what then? Not an easy thing to get transportation in here, so they probably had to move
slow, and in the open.
Couples walked in the square, a family there (with their sniffer, a mangy but servicable bloodhound - probably a
guarddog as well). This many people now, so there would have been even more earlier. Not an easy proposition
to make off with her under those circumstances. Not unless they had some cover. They had been Russian, from
the looks of the rough but efficient entry hole near the north bridge. They were good, but probably
overconfident - maybe sloppy. Gotta be something here - I just can't see it yet...
"Aww.. they took down the pretty ballerina already." The mother bent down to kiss her child's cheek. "I'm
sorry sweetie, but I told you to hurry. They were already crating it up when I came through earlier. We'll
come tomorrow when they have something else, ok?"
The words barely registered, and the family began moving on - the father careful to put the old bloodhound
between his family and scruffy stranger poking about in the snow with that child's stuffed animal. There's just
got to be something.. ballerina? What ballerina? There, in the gazebo. scratches on the ice floor. He found
a perfect replica of a girl's mitten lying near the icy arched walls of the structure. It too was made of ice.
"Hey, you there!" He chased the family, and their protector whirled about, snapping jaws and froth flying from
bared teeth. He ignored the mutt and pulled a shiny badge from his belt. Not a perfect forgery, but enough to
fool these folks long enough to get some information.
Five minutes later he was running again. South they had said. The workers had crated up the ballerina ice
sculpture and headed south, away from the north bridge. Did they have another route ready? Or was he chasing
ghosts, already too late to do any good? He would know shortly, if he could only track them. He was starting
to feel the cold now too. And no sign yet, not the faintest clue. These guys were good, no doubt about it -
probably the best since his gig in Chile two years ago.
A smile flashed across his face. Not good enough, apparently. There, in the snow, was the faintest footprint.
Doing some quick calculations, he guessed the most likely route and sped towards the docks. He had their number
now - only one way to sneak a large crate out, and that was to hide it in with the standard cargo. Only one
place south to fit that bill...
He saw it before he hit the wharfs. A big, old-fashioned wooden mast towering above the dockside buildings.
Sure enough, she had an ice prow on the front. Heading to colder waters, fellas? Not on my watch. He slipped
aboard quickly enough. Not too much in the way of guards though. Shouldn't there be a bit more resistance?
Slinking through the narrow passages below deck, he found the cargo hold, and a large crate stashed in the
front. Last minute addition? The crowbar was still laying across the top too. The figures stole from the
shadows as he reached for it, but he was prepared for them. Kay was prepared, rather. He had always loved the
way that short, dignified figure could kick the crap out of pretty much anyone. The russians hit the floor with
a thud, one after another.
He had the crate open, and there she was. Lila, but not as she had been described. An ice ballerina, frozen in
time. He turned to see Kay standing still in the corner, that slightly satisfied smile on his face.
"Don't get cocky. I taught you everything you ever knew Kay. Let's not forget that, shall we? Now how about
an exit?"
Kay bowed slightly, then ripped a hole in the side of the ship. Light poured through the gash, and the ship
faded from view along with Kay and the ballerina.
Clark shoved his glasses up further on his nose and waited for the plastic curtain to open. These new
full-vision nano-screens were much better than the old headgear. Perhaps he'd have enough to get one of his own
after this job. He stepped into the next room. Technicians shifted their holo-views to the side and looked at
him expectantly.
"Russians, from three concurrent connections. Broke through the firewall and iced L.I.L.A., then stowed her in
the south transport grid. I k-spiked them - they won't be giving you any trouble for a while anyway. There
should be some residual data left as well. You should be able to unfreeze her with a little time. I'll expect
my pay through the usual means."
He walked out, conscious of the eyes on him. "Still got it," he thought as he left.
