The dragon had a vast network of agents in every country devoted to nothing more than feeding information into his hungry brain for him to digest: updates, rumors, and secrets from all over the world. Despite the vast amount of data rushing past on the display before him, the great dragon seemed almost bored, impatiently waiting for something to happen. He huffed a great sigh, sending small trickles of smoke pouring from his nostrils as he kept watch over the world through the magic of modern technology, thinking of the days when a magical mirror or pool would have served in place of the video wall. But such tools were not as quick or efficient as the power of the Matrix for processing information. Modern technology had its uses. A musical tone interrupted the hubbub of the many display windows, and Lofwyr's eyes widened, his head lifting slightly from where it rested. A red indicator on the display flashed "incoming transmission." The dragon's lips curled slightly in an almost-smile that would have chilled the blood of any Saeder-Krupp employee present in the room. Lofwyr smiled only rarely. It always meant the dragon had found something interesting to him, and no one wanted to be the object of Lofwyr's interest. The flashing indicator opened into another window on the video wall, displaying the calm, refined features of Jean-Claude Priault, chief justice of the Corporate Court and Lofwyr's employee. "Greetings, Master," Priault said. Most modern people had trouble with Lofwyr's preferred title. Even the most pitiful wretch from the Barrens of Seattle or post-war Europe believed they were above calling anyone "master," but Priault managed the term quite well without becoming utterly servile in the process. It was one of the reasons Lofwyr liked the human and chose him to represent Saeder-Krupp on the Corporate Court: Priault was a good leader because he was such a capable follower. Lofwyr wished all humans were more like him. The great dragon inclined his head at Priault's image, acknowledging him, then stretched his long neck up to its full height, working out some of the kinks from lying still. Lofwyr preferred to discuss business in person whenever possible, but with the chief justice on board Zurich-Orbital that was not an option. Modern communications were most inconvenient for dragons, because they did not speak as humans did: using the lips and tongue. Those organs were best used for eating, in Lofwyr's opinion. Dragons spoke with the power of their magical brains, directly into the minds of others. Unfortunately, machines could not pick up the transmission of dragonspeech, so certain… modifications were necessary to make use of electronic communication. A human translator was one option, but Lofwyr preferred to handle this matter personally. With a slight wave of one great talon, Lofwyr's form began to shimmer and change. Like smoke, the body of the multi-ton dragon dissolved and assumed the shape of a man, tall and thin, with long, white hair swept back from a high forehead. He wore a finely tailored suit echoing the color of the dragon's own scales. He brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve before turning toward the screen where Priault's image waited. Few humans had known anything of the great dragons' ability to assume a human form before Dunkelzahn demonstrated it to them. It was a violation of one of the many secrets of his kind, but Dunkelzahn had paid the price for his indiscretions and humanity remained uncertain if other great dragons possessed the same ability. The dragons weren't talking and people were reluctant to question a dragon who didn't want to be questioned, which was fine with Lofwyr. He displayed his ability only in front of trusted servants like Priault. The rest of the time, Lofwyr acted through intermediaries and translators able to carry out his wishes without any need for him to assume an uncomfortable human form. "What have you to report?" Lofwyr said in a deep voice as he strode closer to the display window. Human eyes were so poor that he wondered how the creatures saw anything at all. The chief justice cleared his throat a bit. "Very little so far," Priault said with a bit of a shrug. "We are at recess currently. Osborne has begun to present her case. What she has so far is flimsy and circumstantial. It is unclear whether Fuchi really has the evidence to back it up." "They have," Lofwyr said. "It remains to be seen if they can use it properly. What are your thoughts on the tenor of the Court and Osborne's chances of success?" Priault frowned at bit, his brow furrowed with deep lines. "The Court is concerned about Renraku," he began, choosing his words carefully. "Its growth needs to be checked, and I think the court will take advantage of any viable opportunity to do so. It depends on whether or not Fuchi's case is considered sufficient cause for the Court to act against Renraku in some way. Their success has not been anywhere near what Aztlan tried to do along the Pacific Rim, and we know how long it took the Court to decide to respond to that. Osborne will have to make it clear that Renraku is violating the concords of the Court and using means that could endanger us all. She is off to a good start, provided she backs it up with something more than rhetoric." The dragon in human guise turned from the display and paced back a few steps, the click of his heels echoing loudly on the marble floor of the vast chamber. His hands were clasped behind his back. "Very well," the dragon said. "Continue to support Osborne and Fuchi quietly and give her every opportunity to turn the Court against Renraku. If she is not able to do so or her evidence is not forthcoming, I may have to take a hand in the matter. But for now I am content to allow Fuchi to act against Renraku. If the two can be maneuvered into direct conflict, so much the better. I will consider a follow-through for the conclusion of this matter while you oversee the case. Continue to inform me of your progress." Priault executed a bow before the camera. "Yes, Master," he said, then cut the connection. Lofwyr paced back to the center of the room, tapping the palm of his hand. He reassumed his natural form, stretching languidly to work out the kinks, his powerful muscles rip-
pling under his scaled hide. He luxuriated in the cool surface of the marble, and curled up again to resume watching the displays on the video wall and to consider this new information to plot his next move. The matter of Renraku and Fuchi's case against them had taken up considerable amounts of the great dragon's attention. And it was not healthy to be the object of Lofwyr's attention.
12
One of the duties of the shaman is to act as psycho-pomp and walker between the worlds. The shaman travels to the Underworld as well as the Upperworld for a variety of reasons; to escort the souls of the dead to their resting place and to seek wisdom from the spirits who live in the Underworld and bring it back to the people. Every shaman travels into the Underworld to fulfill the needs of the tribe and to maintain his or her power as a shaman by speaking with and learning from the spirits who dwell there. Although most Underworld journeys in modem times consist of astral travel to the metaplanes to draw on the wisdom to be learned there, modern shamans also undertake other kinds of underworld journeys every day of their so-called "mundane " lives. -from "Shamanic Traditions in the Twenty-first Century," a lecture given by Dr. Akiko Kano at Cal-Tech, California Free State, 2044 One of my duties as a shaman of the tribe is to travel to the Underworld of the Catacombs. Most of the people who want the secrets the Netwalkers have to sell live down there in the tunnels running beneath the city, some of them very old. The Catacombs date back to when the subway system in Boston was first being built and expanded. Over the years, many different tunnels were built. Subway tunnels, maintenance tunnels, sewer tunnels, and other conduits for daily necessities radiating under the streets of Boston, a whole world under the feet of the city.
Over the years some of the tunnels were lost, sealed off, or forgotten. New tunnels were build over, under, and around them, and the old remnants were found by street people needing shelter. The earthquake that shook the East Coast in 2005 leveled Manhattan, and also left many of the Boston tunnels ruined or abandoned, requiring the construction of new ones. The old tunnels and lost stations were declared unsafe and sealed off by the city government. They became home to refugees outside of the system, people like our tribe. Most of the tracks are above-ground in the Rox, too exposed to be of any use to the city now. So the tunnels into the Rox were among those abandoned. Nobody wants to come into the Rox, only to leave it, so there was no need to send trains along the tracks any more. The tunnels and the stations were left to the denizens of the Rox, just as were its buildings and streets. The crumbling concrete spans of old, above-ground train bridges are where we built and maintain the pirate satellite links to connect our tiny corner of the Matrix to the rest of the world. The ground-cable connections in the Rox are few and unreliable, damaged by the forces of nature and left to rot by the city workers who put them in place. Part of the work of our tribe is maintaining the web of fiber-optics stretching out from our territory and connecting us to the world. The satellite links give us the best Matrix access in the Rox, something valuable to the right people. One of the commodities the Netwalkers have to offer in trade for the things we need to survive and prosper. The tunnels are the underworld of the Rox. When the Awakening came, the tunnels got new inhabitants. First were the strange, magical creatures from the darkness under the earth. The tribe has stories and legends about these creatures of the underground: giant worms burrowing through solid rock, devil rats, and other scavengers who feast on the carrion in the tunnels. Even more frightening are the tales of intelligent creatures of the dark tunnels: vampires, ghosts, and ghouls, like Crawley, the one working with the Tamanous. The monsters of myth and legend are real and prey on the inhabitants of the Rox, hunting for the flesh, blood, and living essence they need to survive. Tensions in the city drove many of its metahumans underground to hide from those who hate and fear them simply for how they look. Communities of orks, trolls, and dwarfs developed in the Catacombs, and tribes of meta-human and human outcasts banded together to create their own homes down there. The Netwalkers live above-ground, not in the darkness of the tunnels, but we make trips down into the Catacombs to bargain with its inhabitants for supplies and other necessities in underground bazaars set up in the abandoned stations. In return, we trade our skills with hardware and software and the knowledge we have acquired. I accompany Papa Lo and others on trips into the Catacombs and learn quickly about how to bargain, talk, and trade with the tunnel-folk. The Undermarket is one of the places we visit often. The tunnels leading into the Rox are abandoned. The city government and the corporations can't be bothered with maintaining access to an area where they feel none is needed, so the Rox stations and tunnels are left to rust and decay. Taken over and transformed by the people of the Rox, they are our gateway into the underworld and the treasures of the Undermarket as well as a pathway into other parts of the plex, provided one is willing to brave the security guards watching the stations and tunnel entrances and the creatures living in the dark recesses of the underground, not to mention the danger of being caught in front of an oncoming subway train too far from a sheltering alcove. Many tunnel-dwellers die that way. Set up in one of the abandoned stations, the Market is a bazaar where different folk from the Rox and elsewhere in the city buy and sell, carrying on a whole economic system totally separate from the government and the corporations. Many of the merchants live in the tunnels themselves; orks, trolls, and stranger creatures cast aside by the rest of the world, forced to hide in the safety of the dark underground. The Market pays protection to gangs and tribes in the Rox, and we all recognize the importance of the Market and protect it. The Market is neutral ground, no trouble is allowed there. But trouble still happens from time to time. That is why warriors accompany us down into the tunnels to the Under-market. There are plenty of people in the underground desperate enough to break the law in hopes of obtaining something they can sell or use to make it through another day. These are the desperate and hopeless who have abandoned all tradition and understanding. "They are the real savages of the Rox, not us," Papa Lo says. Without tradition and honor, we are nothing. I know it is true, it is something I feel I have believed in for a long time. Shadowrunners come to the Market from time to time to get things they need. They are outcasts like we are, living outside the law and the shelter of the corporations and the government. Like us, they do not exist in the eyes of society. Like us, they live in the spaces abandoned by the rest of the world. Unlike us, they serve the corporations, working as their agents in the shadows to accomplish the work that is too dangerous to be carried out in the light. Shadowrunners are the corporations' warriors and agents, fighting a secret war most people never even know about, provided the runners do their jobs well. I encounter as many Shadowrunners in the Matrix as I do in the Market, if not more. The Matrix is very important to Shadowrunners, since it is where the corporations store their valuable information. If we can acquire the data, it is worth something. We are in the tunnels one day when the trouble begins. I have been going to the Market long enough for Papa Lo and the tribal elders to trust me to go it alone. I am the oldest of the shamans, which gives me the right and the duty to take on more responsibility. A small party of warriors accompanies me when I speak to the merchants and bargain for the supplies the tribe needs. We have some useful information, security codes and diagrams acquired from a Fuchi corporate system, that some people are interested in acquiring. We are promised food, medicine, and blankets for the data.