---------------[Friday, July 8th]------------ --------------------------------------------- Date: Thu, 7 Jul 1994 14:13:44 -0400 From: Elizabeth A Scroggs Subject: FKWAR2: A lurker joins the fray "I can't believe it. Seven months we've been lurking, waiting to make our move, and now that we have our chance, your modem won't work!" Betsy was beside herself. Windy had been the one who told her about the handsome vampire cop in Toronto and his charming companions. They found the list right after the first war and decided to lurk, gather information until the next one. Windy had kept up, and had paid more attention to what had been going on. They figured once the war started, she would be the one to throw them into it. But now the next war was happening, and Windy was far away. "I can't help it Betsy. You'll have to fight without me. Tell me what's happened." "There's a new Betsy here besides me, she jumped right into the war and the Cousins got her." Betsy shuddered involuntarily. "I hope she realizes what she's got herself into." "What about you? What are you going to do?" "You know, Windy, it's the strangest thing. All this time I thought I was a Die-Hard, but lately... I dunno. The other day, out of the blue, I bought a choker. And I've developed a taste for fine wine. And you already know about my appreciation for good looking men," "Yes, yes. I know." Betsy could almost see Windy rolling her eyes over the phone, and smiled. "I think I need to try and help Janette, if she'll have me." "Okay, if that's how you feel. Good luck, Betsy. And be careful." "I'll try. But if you don't hear from me in a few weeks, start to worry." As soon as she hung up, Betsy went to get her suitcase out of the closet. 'If I'm going to go, I might as well go all the way,' she thought. "Hello, BWI? I need a first class ticket to Toronto as soon as possible. This evening? Perfect." On her way to the airport, Betsy stopped at the bank and got some money she was saving for a rainy day. For days it had been pouring, but she only just noticed it. ----------- Betsy Scroggs betsy@jhunix.hcf.jhu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 08:59:18 -0400 From: "L.D. Steele" Subject: FK WarsII: Dawn endures the heat... The weather in Hamilton and Toronto had taken a nasty turn in the past few days. Humidity was at 94%, which meant the Humidex reading at 8 in the morning was already 28 centigrade. *What's that in Fahrenheit? Oh well, something high*. Dawn was sitting stickily at her computer, reading war updates. Yesterday had been exhausting and she'd done the minimal amount of reading. *I almost wish I was a vampire right now. They seem to have a much broader comfort range in temperatures.* Dawn absentmindedly listened to the weather channel on tv. Apparently a lot of regions in the US were having a heat wave as well. *I'm a transplant from the Maritimes. I'm used to this kind of weather.* The weather channel droned on, "... the jet stream is curving over ontario pushing hot air into Southern Ontario... the humidex highs in Toronto will reach 39 centigrade today... " Dawn thought of all the people who were flying to Toronto for the war. It had been the middle of the winter during the last one. *I wonder if they know that Southern Ontario is warm during most of the summertime. They better not come up here and expect to get away from hot weather.* From the most recent reports it looked as if the war was currently in a less actively visible stage. People changing alliances left and right, but that was to be expected. *It looks as if the Cousins, and Ravens are hatching plans.* Dawn was pleased. So far it looked as if the main purpose behind the leaflets and charter had succeeded. Die-Hards weren't being forced to join any one group. Lurkers were coming out of the corners to choose sides, that their prerogative. She starting getting organized for work, there was a lunch to be made, and plants to water before she left. *I shouldn't be overconfident though. What if this is just a lull in the war.* The Nat-Packers would probably honor the charter, but the others might disregard it. *I think I should have insurance. If I can get it, I might even be able to help end the war...* Logging back on to her account, she starting writing... ---------------------------------------------------------------- Dawn steele@fern.physics.mcmaster.ca ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 12:26:28 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK wars II: Sneaking in Friday, July 8th 10:00 a.m. Jennie sighed as she (finally) finished reading over her E-mail from the last five days. She'd been somewhat behind the times, as a result of a weekend visit to family and friends in Milwaukee and staying rather late. She was really regretting not popping down to Chicago to check on things Monday, since she'd have gotten news about the war then. At least her Natpack sources had kept her fairly well informed, and she hadn't been hit with any of the viruses floating around yet. Wondering what she could possibly do, she began to clean up from her latest experiment. As she hoisted the heavy chloroform bottle to its shelf, her expression grew thoughtful. She checked the calendar on her desk, then headed toward her supervisor's office. Returning an hour later with a gleeful smile creeping across her face, she began making her preparations... --- To: Vmeachum@freenet.scri.fsu.edu, shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu From: Jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com Subject: Re: Striking back Sorry to jump in so late, but the war started without me. I thought you might like to know that I'm scheduled to head up to Toronto for a chromatography conference next week, and I've arranged to take some comp time and go up there a bit early, like...this afternoon. I'm afraid I have publicly declared my affiliation with the Natpack so I wouldn't be the best agent for the Raven (although I may have a plan to overcome that if necessary...) but I would make excellent backup for anyone you do have there. At least I didn't send in my application, so nobody knows much about me or what I look like. I'm packing all of my Raven-appropriate clothing, the departmental powerbook, and a 'demonstration' for the convention which just happens to contain a very nice little bag of tricks from the lab here. Let me know where I can be most useful! --- After sending the message off, Jennie turned the rest of her work over to the summer student to finish off, gathered up her bag of tricks and the powerbook and headed out. On the way, she stopped at the travel office to check with them. Gloria looked up as she entered. "Oh, hi, Jennie. It's all set. You can pick up your ticket at the airline desk tomorrow and the bed and breakfast you wanted had a vacancy. All the reservations are in the company name, like you asked. May I ask why, though?" "Uh, probably nothing, but some crazy woman followed some friends and I up there on a trip last year, and since she has connections at some airline - I just don't want it happening again." "Well, whatever. Have a nice trip!" --- Back at her apartment, she started packing up. Just in time, she remembered to ask her neighbor to water the plants on her patio while she was gone. she thought. She also put out plenty of birdseed. They might not need it at this time of the year, but she wanted to keep them coming back. Finally she put a brand new block of suet out for Snuggles, the downy woodpecker. Satisfied at last, she went back to packing. A frantic search through her file cabinet turned up an old envelope which she tossed into her purse. Satisfied that she was ready to go, she logged on to check her e-mail before leaving. (to be continued) Jennie Hayes jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 01:06:29 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--At the Die-Hard Digs July 8, 1994, 10:00 AM "This is _it_?" I said as I stood looking at the somewhat dilapidated St. George Residence. "It looks like it ought to be condemned." "Well, there's the while and red cross on the entrance so this must be the place. It's right next to the Toronto university like Kathy wrote to us," said Bruce. We walked up to the door. "Maybe we should take out some ID," said Bruce. We both dug out our drivers licenses. Then we knocked on the door. A young woman answered our knock. Bruce smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Bruce Gray and this is my wife, Sandra. We're looking for the Die-Hard Headquarters?" She looked at our IDs. Then she smiled and said, "You found 'em! I'm Kathy." We all shook hands and she invited us inside. "Don't be fooled by the outside appearance of this place. We're well protected here. The place is scheduled to be torn down in a couple of years though." 'I can believe that,' I thought. She continued to talk as we followed her to a living/recreation room in the back of the building. "It was a graduate student residence before we took it over as our Headquarters. It's good to have a few more Die-Hards here. We can use all the help we can get." "Actually, I'm a Die-Hard, but Sandra's not." "Oh, well, doesn't matter. The Headquarters is for anyone who wants sanctuary." "Well, we didn't exactly come for sanctuary," said Bruce. "We came for some information." "Information?" "Yeah, you know. What's going on with the Wars." "Oh. Well, our information is kind of sketchy right now. The main thing is LaCroix and his Cousins stole the mail from _all_ the factions groups _and_ Nick's laptop computer with whatever database information was on it from Nick's place. So your applications are probably in the hands of the Cousins." "Applications?" Bruce asked. "Oh, yeah, being a Die-Hard means you never filled one out. Did you?" she asked, looking at me. "No. We're both new to this. We've only been on the list since early April." "Well, at least that means the Cousins probably won't target you since they don't know anything about either of you." "What's the Die-Hard position in all this?" asked Bruce. "We're offering protected sanctuary to anyone who requests it and are prepared to mediate an end to the conflicts according to our charter." "Charter?" "Oh. Well, since you're so new, I guess you haven't heard about that either. Let me go get you a copy and maybe some coffee or tea or something?" "Coffee sounds fine. Thanks," I said. "Yeah, coffee," added Bruce. Tracy left us, but soon returned with a tray of coffee and fixings and a rather large stapled "report" of some kind. She set down the tray and passed the report to Bruce. It was the Die-Hard charter. "I've--got some things to do, so I hope you'll excuse me Make yourselves at home and I'll be back in a while." I started to put cream and sugar in our coffee while Bruce settled back to read the voluminous Die-Hard charter. Fortunately he was a fast reader. At one point, he murmured, "Woo, laser defenses." Eventually Tracy returned. "Have you had a chance to go over the charter?" "Yeah," said Bruce, holding it out to her. "Keep it. We've got more. Do you have a place to stay yet?" "Yeah. We got in last night." He hesitated, then said, "Do you have a phone number here? We couldn't bring our computer from home and don't have any way to make contact otherwise short of coming back here in person." "Oh, sure." She gave us the number and I wrote it in my notebook that I kept in my tote bag style purse. "I assume you have computers here," said Bruce. "Of course." "Well, I'm fairly proficient in their use if you need any help." "I'll keep that in mind." "Could I look at your database now? We know very little and I'd like to get an idea where everything stands." "I'll just wait here," I said. Kathy led Bruce away. I sipped my coffee and perused the Die- Hard charter. After a while, they returned, Bruce saying, "Well, we have some things we want to do around town today, so we really should leave now. We'll check in on the number you gave us throughout the day to see what's happening." We said our goodbyes. As we stepped down onto the sidewalk, a wasp flew near Bruce. He fled down the sidewalk and I smiled at him as I caught up to him. "I hate bees," he said. "Well, it's gone now. So what did you find out?" Bruce filled me in on some of the things he'd discovered as we made our way around Toronto's shops picking out some final defensive items. --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 10:43:38 EDT From: Pamela Rush Subject: FoDly foraging Friday, July 8, 1994: Toronto Coroner's Office "Natalie, you'd better come and look at this delivery." "Oh, Grace, just put it where--" Dr. Lambert looked up at her favorite assistant and friend and paused, forgetting the facetious remark she had been going to make when she saw the strange look on Grace's face. Would LaCroix and his demented minions dare to attack here, in a public building in broad daylight? Dr. Lambert abandoned her file without even bothering to SAVE it. "What is it, Grace?" "An *unusual* delivery -- and the driver says it's for *you* personally." "Does he know this is a *morgue*?" "Didn't seem to bother him, but...well, come and see for yourself." Both lab-coated figures hurried out to the loading dock entrance at the rear of the blocky building. An 18-wheel truck was backed up to the dock, rear doors half opened. The driver, a muscular, good-loooking man with typically Scots-Irish colouring, tight jeans and cowboy boots, was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe and whistling. The huge trailer was plainly labeled UNITED CARBIDE in foot-high letters. Dr. Lambert approached the driver cautiously, Grace's natural dignity and solid strength next to her lending her assurance. "I'm Dr. Lambert. Can I help you?" "Danaher," the driver said, touching two fingers to an imaginary hat in salute," and I think I can do something for *you*. At least, I was told you'd be happy to get this delivery." "Uh, gee, Mr., uh, Danaher...I appreciate the thought, but I really don't know what I'd do with more *batteries*...." A warm Irish chuckle cut short her confusion. "No, not batteries...that's my *business*. This delivery is a... private favor. It's not on the manifest and this stop is completely off the record." As he spoke, Danaher was loading several small aluminum containers onto a dolly. "Where do you want these?" "But this is a *morgue*!" "Right! Pam said you'd have plenty of *cooler space*. You're gonna need it." "Cooler *what*?! I don't--" But he was already inside and half way down the hallway. Dr. Lambert, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, caught Grace's ironic gaze and was galvanized into action: hurriedly, she turned and half-ran back into the building with Grace close behind her. "Wait a minute. W-a-i-t just one minute! What is that and who's 'Pam' and who the hell are *you*?" "In here?" Danaher asked, turning into the only open door on the hall, which they had left ajar on their way out. "There's a note,"he continued, as they caught up with him. "I don't know anything else about it myself. It's a favor to a relative -- well, not *blood* kin, thank goodness. But when Pam is happy, her sister is happy, and," he indicated the gold band on his left hand, "when her sister is happy, then I'm a happy man. At least this one isn't furniture...or breakables...or *alive*. But I just delivery 'em; I don't explain 'em." Handing Dr. Lambert a folded sheet of paper, Danaher gave the ladies a mock bow and strode off. Natalie stared dumbly after him and thought The metallic click of a latch recalled her to the present puzzlement and she realized with a frisson of terror that Grace was opening one of the boxes! "No! Grace, don't--" she exclaimed, thoughts of bombs and cunning traps and exotic poisonous gases flashing through her mind. Grace looked at her as though she were delirious. "Well, if you want to keep all the goodies to yourself, just say so!" "Huh?" "All the goodies," Grace reiterated, poking about in the chest. Two steps closer and Dr. Lambert could see that it was really an insulated picnic-type freezer container. It was full of vacuum sealed food storage bags, each coyly revealing tantalizing glimpses of different gourmet foodstuffs. Grace was examining the seal on a bag of ratatouille when Dr. Lambert remembered the note still clutched in her hand; opening it, she was mystified by the cryptic message: Store in a cool place until needed. Minimal garlic content guaranteed at .08% per serving. EXCEPT FOR BLAUTWEINER FOR NICK (GARLIC FREE). Signed: FoDs of the Internet FoDs? FoDs.... That did sound oh-so-distantly-and-vaguely familiar....Weren't they a small group, very select, utterly discreet, fanatically dedicated to, to.... "Man-oh-man, it's here! Wun-der-bar!" cried Schanke, bursting into the room and slamming the door behind him. "Schanke!" Dr. Lambert was always pleased to see the attractive police detective (too bad he was so *very* married although Natalie held the deepest respect for the profoundly spiritual and passionately erotic relationship between him and the lovely Myra) but if he knew something about this mysterious delivery he would be doubly welcome today. "Schank, do you know what this is?" "Yeah, it's *smor-gas-board*!" he exclaimed gleefully, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "I *know* it's food, but...why? Where'd it come from? What's it for?" "Oh, a few of my friends in the States--" thought Dr. Lambert, "--send me some snacks occasionally. Just stuff it's hard to get in Toronto or stuff they want me to try or stuff they have taking up too much room in *their* refrigerators. Anyway, usually I get one package a month, more or less, but then, the last couple of months: Nada! Niente! Rein! Not a taco, not a sausage, not a dolmade; I mean, I was starting to feel *neglected*! Then this morning I get a message through the Ham radio network -- did you know that's always free? pretty neat, huh? -- saying that the post office or someone has screwed up deliveries but they're sending a *major* shipment to make up for it. And, here it is! There's plenty, Nat, Grace -- help yourselves. Uh, you can, like, *store* some of this here until we get to it? You do have a drawer free, right?" * * * * Later the same day: someplace in Kentucky "...CONFIRM YOUR MESSAGE DELIVERED AT THIRTEEN-FORTY ZULU THIS DATE." Static crackled merrily but the tinny voice came through loud and clear at 20 over 9 dB. "TRAFFIC FOR YOUR STATION, KI4OD, ORIGINATING THIS STATION, THIS TIME, THIS DATE, WITH A COUNT OF ELEVEN, AS FOLLOWS: SHIPMENT RECEIVED MANY THANKS AND BON APPETITE TO YOU TOO DON END OF MESSAGE. NO MORE, KI4OD. THIS IS VE3CKT." "Roger. I count eleven. Thanks a lot, Terry, and I'll check in again soon." Pamela let the front legs of her chair slam back onto the rag rug in the rig room. "VE3CKT and the net, this is KI4OD and I'm clear on this frequency." She switched off the amplifier, the tuner and the old but trusty Drake TR-4 transceiver. So far, so good.... But what to have for dinner? ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 12:54:29 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2 : Precautions Ivy sat down at her terminal. *Think like a cousin now, how would they strike?* She logged onto the network. *Better defend against the simple.* Nick, I am having some foodstuffs delivered to your loft. Nothing that has much of a smell, fruits mostly and frozen goods. Natalie can use them after the war, but I don't want LaCroix reporting you as a potential alcoholic (that's how it would look -- all you have are wine bottles) especially with you being a cop and all. His eating habits are likely the same but with the cousins running around it might not wash to accuse him of the same. Let me know if you think it viable? - Ivy She called the local grocer to have the stuff delivered, and charged it to LaCroix, why not damage his card a little more? She caught the transaction and approved it the moment it came through. That done she started another message. Knighties, We need to set up a contact network, each member calling in a circle on preset intervals so the rest will know if something has gone wrong. Contact me. I'll start the chain going as soon as I start to receive responses. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 12:46:58 -0800 From: "S. Tanaquil Johnson" Subject: FKWars2: En Route En Route Friday, July 8, 3pm, PDT Usually on long flights Tanaquil found it impossible to read anything that didn't have Fabio on the cover, but today her first priority was planning strategy. Flipping open the Powerbook on her lap, she reviewed her recent correspondence over and over. To: pinax5@garnet.berkeley.edu From: vmeachum@freenet.scri.fsu.edu Subject: Potential Allies Received some messages this morning that I thought might be of use to you. Hope this reaches you before you leave. This one was forwarded to me by Sharon S. after I told her that we were planning to make a move on the Raven: >To : SelmaMc@AOL.COM SCOTTS@BAYLOR.EDU >From : ava.chan-crowder@wcoast.cts.com >Subject : New Operative > >Hi Sharon and Selma - > >I have been lurking for the past couple of months, and I am now >ready to join in the war. Being unemployed, I have all the time in >the world, and I now submit myself to be your newest operative. >Luckily, my affiliation wasn't known when Nick's laptop was >stolen, (my application is still sitting in front of me) all available >information about myself is also at a minimum (no Barney fears here). >Additionally, there is nothing here to keep me in San Diego during >the war...football season hasn't started yet and there are no current >job prospects. I am available ASAP wherever the Knighties need me. >I look forward to working with you all. > >~~~Ava :-) AvaABC123@aol.com > ava.chan-crowder@wcoast.cts.com And here's one who says she's actually on her way to Toronto: >Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 12:26:28 -0500 >To: Vmeachum@freenet.scri.fsu.edu, shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu >From: Jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com >Subject: Re: Striking back > >Sorry to jump in so late, but the war started without me. I >thought you might like to know that I'm scheduled to head up >to Toronto for a chromatography conference next week, and >I've arranged to take some comp time and go up there a bit >early, like...this afternoon. > >I'm afraid I have publicly declared my affiliation with the Natpack >so I wouldn't be the best agent for the Raven (although I may >have a plan to overcome that if necessary...) >but I would make excellent backup for anyone you do have >there. At least I didn't send in my application, so nobody knows >much about me or what I look like. > >I'm packing all of my Raven-appropriate clothing, the departmental >powerbook, and a 'demonstration' for the convention which just >happens to contain a very nice little bag of tricks from the lab here. > >Let me know where I can be most useful! And this one could mean a real break for us: >Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 13:25:56 EDT >From: panstygia@aol.com >To: vmeachum@freenet.scri.fsu.edu > > I've been lurking for a while, having pledged myself to Janette a > while ago, out of some misguided notion of safety. But I see now > how wrong I've been. I want to cross back into the light. I'll be > willing to do anything you ask... Can you help me? > > > A Lost Soul, > > Nan As long as Janette doesn't find out what Nan is up to, we will have an insider on our side. From the rumors I've been hearing, she might not be the only Ravenette who is getting scared. If "Cousin" Monica is to be believed, Janette is out to get everyone who was associated with the Warren in the last War, and that includes a lot of her followers. Keep an eye on Hilary, Tara, Susan and Liz-Hazel, if any of them show up in Toronto. Not to mention, of course, "Cousin" Monica and ex-Cousin Laurie. Who knows where their loyalties really lie. I contacted Jennie and Nan and told them you were on your way. I'll leave it to you to figure out how to contact them when you arrive, if they don't find you first. Sharon H. has gone to PSU. I don't know whether she's within reach of e-mail or not. Her last message reached me via pigeon post, if you can believe it. Good luck! Later! Tanaquil moved on to the next message she'd saved: To: Nat Pack Cc: Knighties From: sarajnsn@violet.berkeley.edu Subject: Update Hello all! I'm leaving for Toronto this afternoon. The more eyes we have at the Raven, the better. Janette has to be the key to this thing. I may have to lay low over the weekend in order to work out my best method of approach. I've checked and triple checked the security on this account; I think it's safe to use again. I'll be checking in regularly, so let me know of anything useful you might hear. Does anyone know what the Graces and the FOSSILS have been up to? Hope to be in touch again by Monday, if not before. Tanaquil Tanaquil fidgeted in her seat. As soon as the plane landed, she would find an obscure motel somewhere and complete her disguise. It didn't look as if it would be necessary to actually pretend to be a Ravenette, not with a Ravenette already on their side. No, the anonymous-club-denizen approach would be best. But it would take a while to make the disguise convincing, and to make contact with the others, who would probably be doing *their* best to be inconspicuous. She hoped that her carefully suppressed Ravenette tendencies were going to come in handy at last. S. Tanaquil Johnson ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 15:42:40 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FKwars2: Interruptions [part 1/2]--------------------------- Interruptions Jennie arrived at OHare a good hour and a half early for her flight, wondering if there was really any point to being early at OHare, since most of her flights out of here were delayed at least two hours. She got in a long line of people at the ticket counter and settled in to wait. Looking about, she noticed several people next to the line apparently waiting for others who were in the line. One very seriously dressed pair made her shake her head and smile. The woman had short red hair and was reading a medical journal, while an intense young man next to her appeared to be avidly studying UFO magazine. Next to all the serious businesspeople here, the magazine was curiously incongruous. After about twenty minutes, she finally made it to one of the harassed looking ticket agents and asked for her ticket. The young mans eyes widened and he said, "Just a moment, Ill go look it up," and walked off rather abruptly through a nearby door. Jennie was still giving the door a puzzled look when a voice right next to her ear said, "Excuse me." Jumping, she whirled around, only to come face to face with a rather impressive looking badge in a holder. The name on the I.D. card with it was Fox Mulder and identified the owner of the badge as F.B.I. Looking up to his face, she was startled to see the man who shed noticed with the UFO magazine earlier, and had to fight down a hysterical giggle. "Eep!" was the only sound she could manage. "I'm special agent Fox Mulder of the FBI and this is special agent Dana Scully," he motioned to the red-haired woman. "We need to talk to you about the Natpack..." ----- By the time Jennie had finally gotten most of the story (reluctantly) out of the FBI agents, she had missed her flight. Even assuming it was delayed. Apparently they had stopped her only because she was the first name on any of the lists they had managed to locate: It seemed everyone else they had tried to contact was either already in Toronto or en route there. Jennie herself would have been home free if someone at the lab hadn't told them she was still en route to the airport and helpfully provided them with her flight info. It had all started when they had tried to contact Lisa regarding her brothers strange associate and found her gone, then turned to trying to locate people from the membership lists on the laptop discovered in Brian's apartment. Things had moved swiftly downhill from there. Now, they wanted to know what was up and seemed to expect answers from Jennie, answers which she didn't dare provide. Not that she knew very much anyhow, but she couldn't even tell them about the factions or who they followed. From the way things looked right now, Scully would want to lock her up as a lunatic and Mulder would want to go charging out on a vampire hunt. Neither option was terribly appealing. Finally, she convinced them of how little she knew, telling them the Natpack was just a group of friends who had formed sort of a club to discuss things on the Internet, and that the Knighties were another group that had turned out to have similar interests. As for everyone heading for Toronto, she had been told about some trouble with a virus and that nobody was sure who was responsible. The rumor was that a young man had been arrested for it whom nobody believed was the culprit and so everyone who could make it to Toronto was going there to have a face-to-face meeting and try to come up with a good solution to the problem. It seemed that they believed her, and they let her go arrange for another flight after giving her a business card with phone numbers where they could be reached if she found out anything they might like to know, but she was awfully tired and decided to try and grab a flight to Toronto the following day. Surely Natalie and the others wouldn't mind her getting a good nights rest, under the circumstances. Upon arriving home, she checked her answering machine. There was a message on it from Robin Bonke, complaining about how a Barney virus had attacked the entire computer system where she worked and how impossible the last few days had been. Jennie sighed and decided to pretend she hadn't gotten the message before her trip - she was just too tired to listen to yet *another* Barney-related problem. [end of part 1/2] --------------------------------------------------------- ----- Jennie, Natpack jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com --- This? Its a lateral cranial impact enhancer! --- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 03:12:22 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show stories Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: DionneEN@AOL.COM Subject: FKW2 Play! [part 1/2]---------------------------------- (time ? -- before the bomb) Goblin looked around the club. Janette had asked her to look out for pests. She said that dangerous stupid people sometimes follow wars and that they got in the way. She had used a word Goblin didn't know, non-combatant, but Goblin knew what a pest was. She was going to stop the pests. ------ DionneEN@aol.com Dionne Empress of Cats, Die-Hard Goblin Ravenette, enjoying the play-acting, she gets to be outside longer ----------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 12:47:41 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKwars2: Family Feud turns Wagnerian [part1 of 2] About 5:30 pm. this afternoon, the 8th of July: "Oh, good, you're on the desk." Thus spake Lisa as she stepped out of the revolving doors at the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library at the University of Toronto. She was humming the Ride of the Valkyries. All she needed was a horned helmet and a spear. Anne gulped and appeared to wonder if she could do guard duty from *under* the desk. "Lisa, what a nice surprise. I thought you weren't coming to Toronto until the Trek." "So did I," said Lisa, submitting her tote bag and purse for inspection. "More to the point, so did Larry." Not having found anything that would do as an excuse to keep Lisa out, Anne had to let her through the gate. Of course the tote bag had to be surrendered, but not the laptop, once it had proven not to contain false bottoms for smuggling out books. "I thought Larry was in San Francisco." "He was supposed to be. He's going to be after I'm finished with him." Lisa indulged in one of her grins, sobering hastily as her friend backed away. "It's all right. I'm not asking you to hide anything this time. Although I really *didn't* realize that the wrapping on that fish wasn't airtight." Anne was heard to mutter placatingly that she should never have told Lisa that the student assistants referred to the place as the Thomas Booker Rare Fish Library. "Actually," Lisa continued, "I'm here as a patron. Don Bassingthwaite tells me he came across LaCroix's name while looking for something else in your online catalog." "Did he? It can't have been that long since Don had an eye exam." Anne stopped to stare down a would-be pen user, a distinct no-no in rare book circles. "No, it's there. I checked by telnetting into the catalog before I took off. He's an added entry for a donor. Anne, why didn't you tell us on Vampyres that the copy of Dracula with the interpolated text and pornographic illustrations that Aubrey Beardsley gave Stoker that famous April Fool's when they were both arrested for being drunk is in your library?" "It is?" "According to the catalog. Only, I know LaCroix." Lisa's smile returned, along with an odd look at the back of her eyes. "If he had *that* Dracula, there's no way he'd give it to anybody. So, I've come to see what it really is." "Maybe he needed a tax break?" "LaCroix doesn't pay taxes. Revenue Canada has lost several agents trying to make him." Lisa stood aside as another staffer replaced Anne on the guard desk. Then she continued. "Look, I know it's probably not your job, but can you get this item from DG10 for me?" No doubt figuring that the sooner Lisa got the book, the sooner she'd go away, Anne graciously complied. She regretted it almost instantly, when Lisa's war whoop wasn't stifled quite soon enough to not to turn heads. "Sorry," said Lisa. "But it's exactly what I thought. It's the Abarat." Before Anne could intervene, she slipped the bottom of the laptop over the open book. "Lisa, are you trying to get me fired?" "Nope," said her alleged friend, calmly restoring the Abarat in Dracula clothing to the table. "In fact, I'm going to see to it that the library gets a substantial donation in LaCroix's name, with a cover letter mentioning that it's to be listed as in your honor. Relax, Anne. Larry's got some kind of software that uses quantum theory to abstract and store and translate books in one gulp. I don't know how it works. I don't think even Larry knows, when he's sober." Lisa strode purposefully toward the exit. Anne sank shaking onto a chair, resolving to lead a blameless life henceforth at a new e and home address. [end of part 1 of 2] ----------------------------------------------------------------- --- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 09:41:38 -0500 From: "Cousins Sandye, Monica & Dennis" Subject: FKWAR2: Fade to Black Fade to Black These were the times that try men's souls. What kind of world did we live in? What kind of value did we place on our humanity, if when, faced with the choice of kindness or hate, we take the latter for our calling card? How little a cost to claim that dearest part of our soul called brotherhood, but how dear a price we pay when we choose egotism instead... It had been less than a week since the second Forever Knight Fiction War had begun and already it was a free-for-all. Of course, it was supposed to be: Janette's trick to get Nick into trouble with LaCroix, the general run-for-cover mentality that often produced more antagonistic interchange than seemed necessary, and the decidedly "blinder" mentality that caused otherwise logical individuals to deviate from reason and realism. Like rats to a pipers tune they danced to the discordant harmony of one-upmanship. Such was the microcosm of futility in this universe of fiction. But what did all this mean? That was what they were trying to decide. Cousins Sandye, Monica, and Dennis sat around the oak dining room table and pondered the meaning of life. Where was the time going? It had been days and yet nothing was accomplished, nothing was achieved, nothing was attained. LaCroix had his own plans, John had said, and that was true. had their own plans, and when those plans were thwarted, an even more devious one crept back into its place. Were any of them truly different from the entity they so despised? They say you can beat fire with fire; inevitable, the burns scar, no matter how righteous the cause. Yes, life was short, too short perhaps for this, and on a rainy State College evening, three cousins vowed to make a difference. But, what course of action ? Surely, any plan they could come up with would simply appear to be another attempt to gain the upperhand. No one could hear their voices amidst the cacophony of chaos that sprang like weeds in this somewhat empty garden. Afraid to remain, lest they fall prey to the discontent that infected their world, Sandye, Monica, and Dennis decided it was time to leave. Discretion, for them, the better part of valor. Were they shirking their duties? Were they betraying the cousins? Not likely...the war machine raged on with or without them. The factions moved within circles that turned by a power greater than they. Hadn't Nick himself escaped those many years ago? In the long run, they would not be missed. Three cousins made plans to exit gracefully from this conflict, leaving both the trauma and the trouble behind. They wrote a note to LaCroix and had it forwarded to one of his private accounts... Dear Uncle, After a long and careful deliberation, we have decided that the time has come for us to bow out of this latest conflict. An unexpected responsibility prevents us from continuing in any active participation, and rather than be ineffective, the best decision is for us to decline any further involvement. Thank you. Cousins Sandye, Monica, and Dennis. That was it. When everything was said and done, these three cousins felt that they had better bridges to burn. They packed the car--pets and all--and left for destinations as yet unknown. As they drove across the Pennsylvania State line, the damp and rainy day faded into black. Cousins Sandye, Monica, and Dennis. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 7 Jul 1994 17:31:02 -0500 From: Debbie Kraft Subject: FKWarsII: FOSsiLs Attack, Delta(4) -- Clipping Little Crow's Wings July 7, 1994 5:30pm, Toronto time Panther moved like liquid ink, a figure swathed in Ninja indigo and faceless, save for his blazing amber eyes. He waited until there were no watchers, flicked his eyes up briefly to the position of the sun, then glided to the closed and locked doors of The Raven. Doors were never a problem. Noise could be. So, he pulled them open as gently as possible. They still made a screeching sound as the metal tabs were torn off. Panther winced, poked his head in, listened, smelled. He smiled under his mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Asleep, good. Amen-Ra was hot and strong above him. He took that heat with him as he entered the nightcrawler lair. He'd forgotten about the stench--it was strong enough to make him want to sneeze. He fought the impulse, holding to silence, complete silence. Each footstep, each cautious movement was liquid; he made himself a shadow as he glided past the bar. Not one nightcrawler was about, he could sense that. However, rumor had it that Little Crow often woke earlier than the others. Thus, he paused on the threshold of the basement stairs, stretching his perception out beyond his immediate space, beyond the superficial tomb-like silence. Yes. There. Little Crow *was* awake. He must be swift and unseen. Noiselessly he slipped down into the basement. Gently, quietly, he pulled his tools from his pack and fell to work. The floor came first, and that he dusted liberally with dried garlic distillate. He dusted the sleeping dens as well for good measure. Next came the bottles of blood on the wall. Panther quickly assembled his injection apparatus and inserted hypodermic needles trailing small tubes into one dozen corks. He pressed a single button on the control pad, and a small amount of odorless garlic distillate was delivered into the contents of each bottle. He did the same for the next dozen, and the next, until all the bottles, save one, were contaminated with distillate. His eyes were blazing with triumph as he packed away the injection apparatus and prepared to make his egress. A hand with perfectly manicured nails landed on his left shoulder and bore down with a vice-like grip. "And what do you think *you're* doing?" came an accented, smokey voice. Panther did not answer. He merely pivoted toward the voice and flung the contents of the garlic powder container in her face. She screamed and let go of his shoulder, flinging both hands up to her face as he knew she would. He scrambled away from Little Crow, up the stairs, nerves strung taut to the breaking point. His Gift was pounding at its cage door, wanting out, wanting nightcrawler death. He restrained it, legs pumping him ever closer to the doors. "Hold it, Blackie!" The nightcrawler, a female, landed in front of him, between himself and the doors, her eyes gleaming yellow-gold and her fangs gleaming wetly in the dim light. She snarled at him-- --and his Gift broke free. His still-moving shape shimmered, shifting, reformed itself...and his vision slid into the monochrome-red-blue of a black panther. His pistoning hind legs propelled him straight at the nightcrawler, his claws found her shocked face and tore down and away with sun-fed fury. She fell back, shrieking, hands trying to hold the ragged pieces of flesh on the now-exposed bone of her skull. She crawled away, screaming in counterpoint to Little Crow down in the basement. In his Gifted shape, Panther wanted to go after her. Her fear was a pungent, maddening scent in his nostrils, egging him on to kill this affront to Pasht, to the light of Amen-Ra and his Lady Moon. It was only with effort that he reined the hunting urge back inside, and regained the human shape Pasht had given him. "The light of Amen-Ra shines on you, Nightcrawler," he hissed at the female, his amber eyes blazing fiercely. She cried out and threw an arm up in front of her ruined face. Then, he was out the doors, down the alley, and up to a rooftop. He allowed his Gift to flow over him once more-- --and a black cat rested in the shade of a chimney. He travelled home, unnoticed, another feral cat of the city... /\ /\ ^o o^ D.K. "Cat" Kraft ->T<- cat@eskimo.com ~ Edmonds, WA -- Home of Jimmy Doohan, Star Trek's Scotty ___oOO___OOo___ ----------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 08:51:50 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--Cousin John Captured July 8, 1994, time uncertain John opened his eyes, his vision at first blurry. He looked around. Where was he? "You didn't think I'd let you take all your talents over to Sharon Scott and Nick's pitiful followers, did you?" said LaCroix, entering the room "Oh, I intercepted your message to her--or at least a copy of it." He paused. "John, John, I'm _very_ disappointed in you." John sat up, his head spinning. He was lying on a bed in a very elegant, but very male, bedroom. His memory started returning. Someone--a human, he thought, because he'd felt warmth--had snuck up on him when he'd stopped the car for a break and put a cloth over his mouth. What had happened after that and how long he'd been unconscious, he had no idea. LaCroix's eyes had never looked so cold or so deadly as he approached John. He picked up a computer disk from the pile at the end of the bed. John's computer was there too, he noticed. "And you had such promising traits. You would have been of great use to me," continued LaCroix, studying the disk in his hand. John didn't like the use of the past tense. His heart chilled. When LaCroix raised his eyes to John's again, they were golden. His fangs were extended. "You're of no use to me now," he said. Then he reached for John and, lifting him to his feet, pulled him into an embrace. His fangs pierced John's throat. John was paralyzed; he could make no move to defend himself from LaCroix's attack. Soon he was feeling more lightheaded due to the draining of his blood. LaCroix meant to kill him. There was the sound of some commotion in the next room. LaCroix released John with a snarl and John slumped to the floor. He felt like he would pass out, but on some basic primal level he realized that this was his one chance to maybe escape death. He fought to stay conscious and rose unsteadily to his feet. The commotion in the other room was still going on. He didn't know what it was, but knew he needed to get away. Noticing a second door in the room, he decided to make his way to it and hope it was unlocked. On impulse, he grabbed up the computer and disks. A surge of adrenalin powered his flight. The other door was fortunately unlocked and opened onto a small hallway. John stumbled down it and found an elevator. He hit the down button and slumped against the wall. The ground floor of the building was vacant of people, but afternoon sun shone on the sidewalk beyond the glass doors. John stumbled outside, feeling hopeful. He looked around him and recognized where he was. Toronto! Weakness and dizziness was descending on him again. What to do? Nick. Have to get to Nick,' he thought hazily. 'Have to get to Nick.' --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 12:47:41 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKwars2: Family Feud turns Wagnerian [part 2 of 2] It wasn't necessary after all to open the little jar of garlic to force her way into the Raven. A black panther was leaping through the door just as Lisa came up to it. "Pretty kitty!" thought Lisa, wishing she had time to stop and make his acquaintance. As matters stood, it was best to charge through before the door slammed. "Oof!" Only Janette could manage that monosyllable with a French accent. Lisa stared in horror. Even in the dim light the vampire's face looked like a Frankenstein halloween mask. "What the? Oh, still haven't learned about cats, have you. Where's Larry?" Lisa reached into her tote bag. "On the computer, of course. Ma chere, do I dare to hope you've come to take him away?" Janette's had face visibly improved. So did her expression. Lisa was already descending toward the cellar when Larry, eyes squeezed shut and pale even for a vampire, exploded up the stairs and rocketed into the night. A scrap of paper fluttered to the floor in his wake. His sister picked it up, and burst out laughing. Janette looked over Lisa's shoulder. "And you can just stand there? Surely you know what that is. Or were you planning to kill Larry, anyway?" "Of course I know what it is. LaCroix's home address. Janette, I've got a little something to put up to you." ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---- It was five minutes and one traffic cop hypnotized out of a ticket when the little black sports car screeched to a halt in front of LaCroix's building. Lisa hurried inside, cursing all the way up about not being able to fly as the elevator took its time getting to the 13th floor, and erupted into the lobby as soon as the doors opened. She punched in the code Janette had given her at LaCroix's door. A scattering of candles wavered on various surfaces, enough to let Lisa see Larry on the couch in an embrace with Monica. The odd couple sprang apart, but not soon enough. Lisa, shouting in Sanskrit, had thrown a mixture of garlic and rose seeds in Monica's face. With a scream that would have dismayed a banshee, Monica exploded in a blinding white flash. LaCroix dived, cursing, into the room. Feminine sobs rent the air, in counterpoint with soothing muttering from Larry. Lisa's vision cleared. Yes, it was just as she'd thought. In Monica's place, Alexandra sprawled tearfully on the floor. "Hail, hail, the gang's all here!" Lisa said. "No, Frankie, darling. I wouldn't. There's plenty more where that came from and I know the spell. You wouldn't want to spoil your chances of that muzzle for Christmas, now, would you? I admit it. I owe you an apology. I was so sure you were letting Larry keep Alexandra as one of your little jokes on me that I never thought you might have put a wig on her and taken her to State College with you." Lisa smiled. LaCroix flung up a hand in something that might have been a gesture against the evil eye. "I thought you didn't care after that little misunderstanding about the wrong strength steel in the hockey mask." "You, you --" Alexandra burst into language she hadn't used since her days as a 17th century barmaid. Larry, shocked, let go and stood away. Lisa shook her head. "You'd better learn to curse in modern English. After all, you're mortal now." She walked over to LaCroix. "You'd better move the Abarat again. If I can figure it out, so can Nick. At least one of the FOD's has the basic info." LaCroix began to laugh. "My dear," he said, putting an arm around his uninvited guest's shoulders, "I've known Nick a lot longer than you have. The Abarat's perfectly safe -- because trying to repay society has made Nick such a prude that he'd never dream of looking at pornography." Lisa crossed her arms. "Let's hope Schanke's level's no higher than Playboy, then." She turned just in time to intercept Alexandra, who was sneaking up behind her with carving knife. "Still a dingbat after all these years! Alex, honey, even a mortal can hear you doing that now." She grabbed the snivelling blonde and thrust her at LaCroix. "Here, since Larry doesn't seem inclined to do the honors." Shaking her head as LaCroix slurped, Lisa walked over to her brother. "All right, Larry, you might as well make yourself useful. Let's see you take the laptop down to the lobby pay phone and tell Ontario Hydro to get the power back on in here. And don't forget the phones." Cousin Lisa (Probably on the wrong side of the blanket) Lisa McDavid d020214@univscvm (bitnet) d020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu (internet) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 18:11:15 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--After the Commotion July 8, 1994, time uncertain LaCroix finally started back to his bedroom to finish with John, although, by now, he might not need to any more. John could be dead already. He opened the door and walked into the room. But John wasn't there! And neither were his computer nor the disks his agents had recovered along with John. A slight trail of blood led over to the other door in the room--the one that lead to the hall. LaCroix opened the door, then stepped back as the brightness of the late afternoon sun blazed through the uncurtained hall window. He shut the door quickly. Damn! This War was _not_ proceeding as he'd planned _at all_. But John couldn't have gotten far. He'd send people looking for him. --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 03:12:22 EDT Reply-To: Forever Knight TV show stories Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: DionneEN@AOL.COM Subject: FKW2 Play! [part 2/2]------------------------------- Goblin roamed around in the dark. She could smell lots of pests, they could probably smell her too, but they couldn't hear her. Goblin liked her new red collar (Janette said she needed red because she was already black) that covered her reflector and rabies tag. She didn't jingle anymore, and nice humans could still find her home phone number. There was a pest. She would kill it and bring it back to the Raven for Janette, she wanted to talk to the pests. Goblin walked through a crack in the wall and dropped her rat. She was very pleased with herself, it was a big rat. Where was everyone? It smelled funny too. Where did all the garlic come from? ------ DionneEN@aol.com Dionne Empress of Cats, Die-Hard Goblin Ravenette, enjoying the play-acting, she gets to be outside longer ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 15:48:40 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: A Financial Affair Larry, following Lisa's instructions, went down to the payphone to demand in no uncertain terms that the phone and electricity be turned back on. The operator was less than cooperative "I'm sorry sir, you have to bring your account to complete payment before I can restore service. It's the computer." Grumbling he ran back up and snatched LaCroix ATM card. "They want to be paid before they turn it on. We'll straighten out the mess as soon as possible." LaCroix gave him a withering look. "We?" Larry slunk back a step. "Very well," LaCroix went on. "Go do what you must." Larry ran to the nearest ATM and accessed LaCroix savings account with the code he'd been given. The balance was just two dollars. Turning a bit pale he checked savings, money market, cds, all two dollars. Sweating he pulled up his own account. Same thing. "LaCroix isn't going to like this." He headed back to the apartment to report his findings. --------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 06:36:45 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--Stealing the Abarat July 8, 1994, early evening LaCroix put his arm around Lisa's shoulders. They were alone--Larry still off trying to straighten out LaCroix's finances while Alexandra--well, she was so understandably irritated he finally had to send her away. He smiled. "Lisa, your--devotion--to your brother is admirable. But he seems very sensible to me." "He's not sensible when he's around dingbat bimbos like Alexandra." "Ah, well, we all must have our little amusements." He smiled again. "With Larry, I can understand. But you--" She stopped speaking abruptly. LaCroix released her and walked away from her a few steps. Then he turned and said, "We all have our...desires and vices." Lisa didn't say anything so after a slight pause, LaCroix continued, "But loyalty such as yours for your brother is rare. I value loyalty and I _always_ reward it." Lisa still said nothing. "So because I understand your feelings of loyalty toward Larry and concern for his welfare, I am willing to overlook your--impetuousness--this time." "My impetuousness?" "You meant to cure your brother with the spell, didn't you." Lisa's gaze didn't waver. "Yes," she said. He studied her intently. "That is why I will overlook your impetuousness. What we feel for...family...sometimes clouds our reason." He smiled again. "You're as clever as your brother--more clever. I wasn't aware that you read Sanskrit." "I don't. Larry came up with a program to translate it." "Did he? Well, I'll have to read it when I get time." He poured he and Lisa some wine. ------- Later, after Lisa had finally decided to slumber, LaCroix retrieved her laptop. He turned it on and began to scan the trans- lated version of the Abarat. 'What a useful book!' he thought. 'And dangerous.' Perhaps it _would_ be better _not_ to leave the original in an accessible place. Just on the off chance that Nicholas might be able to retrieve it. And this copy? LaCroix smiled. He would allow Alexandra her revenge on Lisa. But before then... LaCroix hooked up the laptop to his own computer and began to make a copy of the Abarat on disk. [end of part 1/2]---------------------------------------------------------- --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 15:55:40 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: A new neighbor The nice advantage of coming into this thing so late is that no one knows what I look like. Ivy grinned. Or my name. A heavy bribe, taken from the misplaced monies from LaCroix accounts served as a nice bribe and now she strode down the hall on the twelfth floor, to stop right under LaCroix own abode. Hands shaking she inserted the key in the lock. It was dingy, she didn't give the super time to fix the place up, and it smelled a little musty, but it would serve her purposes. She set up her computer and her directional mike, the latter of which she attached to a tape player. Hushed voices could be heard speaking clearly above, but no LaCroix, not yet, it was still daylight hours. She logged onto her account and sent a message to the knighties. Knighties, Espionage situation. Information tape available. Give me a drop point or I give it to a ravenette I know will put it to good use. -- Ivy Wistfully she thought of that note inviting her to the ravenettes. She sighed, if the knighties did not want to work with her (and she couldn't blame them -- her actions were highly illegal) she may yet find herself at the Raven. One word from the tape caught her attention -- Arabat. She could hardly wait for this hour to finish so she could listen to it in full and get the context. She stared at the small speaker in rapt attention. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 16:21:54 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: A Message to all Knighties re : bookworm Ivy listened to the tape twice unbelieving. The knighties had to know. Nick had to know. She hastily typed out a message and cced the knighties. Nick, The Arafat is not only not destroyed but it has been unearthed and it is in the hands of the cousins. Seeking more information. Awaiting feedback. Will move if exact location disclosed. More to come. -- Ivy ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 16:59:28 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2 : a message to nick and knighties re new info Ivy sat down at her computer, calmer now and reissued her message from before, again sending a copy to all the knighties. Nick, The abarat is safe, not in the hands of the cousins, but I'm not sure where. It has something to do with pornography though, that's all I can tell you, and it can't be anywhere too public obviously. The cousins and LaCroix do know where it is however. I'll see what I can turn up. -- Ivy ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 14:28:47 -0600 From: John Dencoff Subject: FKWar2: Ex-Cousin John pays the price NOTE: One of the FOSsils apparently attacked someone else and stole their laptop and laundry bags--because Nick's laptop had previously been seen in Brian Gestrel's apartment, not my house. Since I live in a house and not an apartment myself, the FOSsil must have broken into the some other person's apartment... * * * John hobbled up to the door, barely able to breathe. Exhausted and afraid for his life, his breath now came in ragged gasps. Only a few more feet...but his world went topsy-turvy in that sudden moment, as dizziness from lack of blood finally overcame him. His hand went reflexively to his neck, touching the tiny puncture wounds LaCroix had given him. There was no way he could get to Sharon now, and it looked bad now to go this route. He fell just inches short of the door that led to Nick's loft, his computer equipment and disks clattering around him in disarray. Too late, he thought...LaCroix had drained him and left him to die for his betrayal. His escape was for nothing...he was doomed to die here, and Nick would never know about Janette or LaCroix's plans. At least he'd brought the disks. Nick would at least find those he hoped. Then his world went black. Nick pulled the door open, thinking that something had crashed into the front door. At his feet, sprawled over disks and computer parts, lay Cousin John. Shocked, he pulled the LaCroixian inside, gathering up the strewn equipment as well. John was very near death, attacked by a vampire...perhaps he had outlived his usefulness to LaCroix? There was little to do but wait, make John comfortable, and see what happened. Either John would die and perhaps cross over, in which case he might have to kill the young man, or time and the little remaining blood would give him the strength to pull through. But it looked bad. "Unfortunate," Nick whispered under his breath. "You could have told me a great deal." * * * EX-Cousin John Emperor of Harpsichords jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 17:07:37 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: John needs a doctor Ivy gave up waiting and begging her computer to give her a message from Nick or some other knightie. This was too dangerous. They had to hear the tape. Resolved she packed a six hour monster tape onto the machine with another six hours for backup (and she knew she'd need someone to help her go through it all) and headed for Nick's loft. There were spots of blood on the floor near his front door. *Careless spilling your food*. She knocked on the door. Nick answered after a bit. He looked sleepy but gorgeous as always. She thrust the tape into his hand "you don't read your posts." she told him. "Who are you?" he asked. "I've been trying to reach you. This tape contains some information on the Abarat. I don't know the voice. I thought maybe you would." "Come on in." He led her to the living room. A very pale man lay on the leather couch. "What happened to him?" Ivy knelt by his side. "I don't know. I found him passed out outside. He was one of LaCroix's but it looks like he's been bitten. I ... don't know if he'll pull through. I guess he ... outlived his usefulness." "Bit? Get Natalie down here. What he needs is a transfusion and now. Nick, how did you think he would survive without blood. Oh, never mind. She picked up the phone and hit the speeddial button with Natalie's name on it. Two rings then "Dr. Lambert." "This is a medical emergency. We have a patient in need of a blood transfusion (and not to drink) Nick's loft. You know the address." She hung up and knelt by the man's side. She took his pale, weak hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly, "you'll be okay." she told him. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 14:27:22 -0800 From: EMPRESS OF CELERY AND KEEPER OF THE MACCS GATEWAY Subject: FK Wars 2 : Bay Area Party PARTY! Join me for a tea party at Filoli gardens! When : This weekend, Sunday, July 10. Where : Filoli Gardens, Woodside, West Bay, San Francisco Peninsula, CA. Time : Be at my place at 9:30, A.M! You can follow me to The Gardens. If you don't make it to my place in time, this Sunday is open tour day at FILOLI. You pay $8 at the gate per person. This covers the cost the keg\\\\upkeep of the grounds. Go to the Tea Shop and ask for Barb. Events : Gardens open for self guided tour. House open for docent led 'quick' tour. Rose garden in full bloom. Knot garden in full bloom, lots of lavender, bees. English style floral walkway in full bloom. Hidden Hydrangea garden in full bloom. Antique roses walkway in bloom. Kitchen Garden in bloom. Includes giant cabbages, flowering garlic. Directions : From the east Bay, take the San Mateo Bridge west. Follow 92 to just before the hwy to Half Moon Bay. If you end up in Half Moon Bay, you've gone too far. Go south from 92 to 280. Take hwy 280 to Edgewood Road exit, and turn west ( towards the hills ). Take Edgewood Road to Canada Road, and go north until you see the tiny sign for FILOLI. Take the private drive west into the estate. ----------------------------------------------------------------- --------- "Whew", said Barb. "Guess that's all I can do for THIS FK war!" She thought for a moment. "It'll do them all good to get their silly minds off all those alliances for a while. Hum, I wonder just how many postings have there been, anyhow???" She quickly started to check her mailbox, then just as quickly closed it. "Hey, if you have to ask, you can't afford to find out. Ha ha ha! Just like FILOLI. If you have to ask 'How much did all this cost to build?', then you can't afford it. Ha ha ha. <*sigh*> Which explains why I just hang out there as a volunteer." Barb glanced over at her growing pile of work assignments. She thought a moment more. "Oh, yes, a disclaimer!" Quickly added to her posting : ----------------------------------------------------------------- --------- Please note : FILOLI is a property of the National Trust. It's name is used here without permission, but it IS open this Sunday!!! The following attractions are available : FOSsils : lots of mice in gardens. Ravenettes : Ravens frequently spotted on grounds ( usually being attacked by smaller birds )( TRUE! ) NATpackers : many scenic and romantic garden spots. *Sigh!* FoEs : Tragic history of original owners. Knights/Knighties : extensive mansion including large cellar, dormer attic, and mammoth living area rooms with heavily curtained windows. FoDs and Die-Hards : available in the tea house : Sandwiches : turkey, chicken, roastbeef, veggie Cookies : chocolate dipped peanut butter, plain chocolate chip, macadamia nut with white chocolate chips all dipped in white chocolate. Muffins : poppyseed, banana apple, blueberry and cranberry. Biscotti : hazelnut, chocolate chip, anise seed. Drinks : Sun tea, lemon sweetened tea, plain ice tea, lemonade. Biscotti : chocolate chip, anise seed, hazel nut. ----------------------------------------------------------------- --------- "Well, that should cover it all," Barb said thoughtfully. "No, wait! Just one more thing." Merrily she added : ----------------------------------------------------------------- --------- Cousins : lots of clear sky and brilliant Californian SUN! ----------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 18:55:31 EDT From: SelmaMc@AOL.COM Subject: FK Wars 2: A way to spend a weekend Fri, 3:43 pm Selma read the invitation in delight. "Perfect!" she said. To: BARB@MDLI.COM From: selmamc@aol.com Subj: Tea Party Great! I'll come if I can find a ride. Know anyone who can carpool from Sacramento? I would love to get out of Sacramento. However, I am _not_ going to Toronto. Guess I'll be departing the war soon. Selma * + * . * Selma McCrory selmamc@aol.com . . * * . --------------- This was just what Selma needed. She loved tea parties, and she really wanted to meet Barb. Besides, she was not used to running around the country, and her mom was getting awfully upset at her. Let others do the fighting. to be continued... ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 19:01:51 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: John Comes Across Natalie infused three pints of blood into John. Still his vitals weakened and his skin grew pale and rubbery. "It's no good," she told Nick. "We're loosing him." "Turn him," Ivy said. "What?" Natalie looked shocked. "I can't do that," Nick said. "Either you do or he'll be LaCroix's by default if he does come across." "I'm not sure he won't be even if I do. LaCroix is the one who initiated this." He looked down at John mournfully. "We lost him." Natalie let go of his wrist. "No." Nick shook his head. "No. He's ... one of us now." "The choices lie with him now." Ivy gathered the disks. "I'm ... gonna see what's on this." She tried to swallow back the tears that threatened but they came back anyway. Natalie put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll bring him back, like we will Nick." Natalie said, but the catch in her voice betrayed her. "Oh um, that's why I'm here ... The Abarat, the cousins know where it is, I just gave Nick a tape of the conversation. Hope it helps." "It should." Natalie looked back regretfully at John, his chest now lightly rising and falling. Ivy walked into the kitchen to pack the disks into her tote bag. Just then people began to arrive, and in droves. It looked like most of the war was there. Well it was one way to make contacts she supposed. She set to making h'our d'orves in the kitchen with the food she'd sent over. The conversation was well under way by the time she walked into the living room. ------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 14:27:18 -0800 From: "S. Tanaquil Johnson" Subject: FKWars2: Enemy Territory [part 1 of 2] Enemy Territory Tanaquil gazed with some satisfaction at her reflection in the scruffy motel room mirror. She should never have risked going by the Raven as soon as she'd arrived, sans disguise, but curiosity had been too strong. As it turned out, the timing had been fortuitous. She had practically been cannoned down by a frantic, garlic-stricken vampiress and had been able to pass for an anonymous Good Samaritan, driving Janette to the address that she had gasped out. No one had even noticed her surreptitious phone call to Valerie. Janette had been too sick to question her claim that someone named Alma had suggested Nick's place, although under ordinary circumstances any pretense that Alma had been responsible for anything resembling a sensible suggestion would have raised Janette's suspicions at once. She had slipped away quietly soon after Valerie arrived. They had all been too intent on getting some sort of information out of the two of the most uncooperative vampires in North America to notice. At least now she knew what one of her allies looked like, and vice versa. She didn't think Janette had looked twice at her unknown benefactor; she had been too miserable, and was too much in the habit of discounting mortals. Even if she had, Tanaquil very much doubted that Janette would recognize her. Tanaquil hated long flights, and it showed. Last night Janette had seen a slight, insignificant-looking graduate student wearing baggy trousers, an outsized Irish sweater and scuffed boots, dark hair pinned up all anyhow in an untidy bun, with the general air of one who has just noticed that the world exists and wonders why it had to go and wake her up. The woman looking back from the mirror was wearing one of those ghastly pseudo-seventies outfits, flared silk trousers and a (barely decent) halter top with even more flared long sleeves falling well past the wrists, all in the requisite black. The effect was completed the most hideous pair of platform shoes Tanaquil had ever seen in any Berkeley overpriced retro used-clothing dive: black velvet, with some sort of silver trimmings, and perfectly clear *plastic* platforms which seemed to have something which reflected flashes of color embedded in them. Every finger was weighed down with oversized rings. Tanaquil particularly liked the hot pink plastic one on her right thumb and the dolphin-shaped silver one with a fake ruby the size of a pigeon's egg on the third finger of her left hand. Her right ear had been pierced twice, the left one three times; in both she wore various exotic African-style earrings which had been made in Taiwan. She almost regretted that she had never had the nerve to pierce her nose. Almost. In all other respects Judy's annual Sleaze Queen costume parties had turned out to be a godsend. The rest of the disguise had required spending quite some time in a beauty shop. Tanaquil's hair was now jet-black with startling streaks of plum, and elaborately swept up in a style that she would never be able to recreate in this incarnation. Glumly, she foresaw a lot of afternoons spent catching up on beauty parlor gossip. She wondered if one could at least catch General Hospital on Toronto TV. Her silk-wrapped fingernails had been painted a shade which rejoiced in the name of Garnet Red, and looked exactly the color of blood in low light. Heavy powder and dark plum lipstick had done wonders for her normally healthy complexion. She looked like the victim of an inexperienced makeup artist in a funeral parlor. The real challenge, once she found a niche at the Raven, would be to move as little as possible so that no one would notice that Tanaquil's idea of walking in high heels bore a startling resemblance to the gait of a pigeon which had lost several of its toes to some hideous urban accident or disease. She had the feeling that it might sully her image. [end of part 1 of 2]----------------------------------------------------- S. Tanaquil Johnson ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 14:11:42 18000 From: Valerie Meachum Subject: FKWars2: The Summit Finally! The dailies were run, the year-end summary report was well on its way, and Valerie had a chance to check in on the war. Her timing, as usual, bit rocks; there was no time for all that needed done today! Just as she logged into her e-mail, her phone gave its peculiar chirp. "Development, this is Valerie." A hushed, unfamiliar voice spoke at the other end. "It's Tanaquil. Somebody really nailed Janette. I'm afraid my cover's blown, because everyone else who lives here is sick from the garlic too so I was the only one who could help. She got attacked by a ninja who turned into a black cat, I swear! She's spitting mad, too." "*Wonderful*." A few other choice phrases came to mind, but in this office they were usually reserved for the dinosaur of a database she had inherited with the job. "Well, I'm sure Sharon and Natalie will agree that helping was more a priority than keeping your cover. I'll alert the Ravenettes. You said garlic? Is she okay?" "Getting that way," Tanaquil allowed. "The whole place reeks, though. She'll heal faster when she gets...something to drink, but they contaminated her stock too." "Damndamndamndamn." Of all the...Valerie had an idea who had done this, but that would have to wait. "Can you get her out of there safely? Get her to Nick's place? I was hoping we could powwow at the Raven, but sounds like it'll be pretty inhospitable for some of the folks who need to be there. I'll get the word out to get people there as quickly as possible. Nick's place is probably the best choice. I'd rather make use of the Die-Hard HQ, actually, but I can't guarantee everyone else following their charter, so we'd better keep it away from there for now. I'll get in touch with Sharon and Betsy, see if Betsy can get a Die-Hard rep or two to help mediate." "Do you think we can promise them safe passage?" "Fairly certain. If someone gets other ideas, the rest of us should be able to handle them." "Okay. I'll get the keys to that pinhole camera Janette calls a car and get her out of here. See you soon." "As soon as possible!" A short time, but probably still too long, later, Valerie buzzed at the door to Nick's loft. *If they're going to pull out magic, then we can too,* she thought grumpily, thinking of the Trump of the Raven Jack had made for her at the climax of the last war. Amber gamemasters were pretty handy to have as SO's... "Yeah?" a gruff voice emerged from the intercom. "It's me, Valerie." *The loony who invited half the war to your loft without asking you first*, she added silently; but the door clicked open. Eschewing the elevator, she bolted up the stairs to find Nick, Natalie, a new face who must be Tanaquil, and a very unhappy but seemingly healthy Janette. Three empty green bottles sat on the floor beside Janette's place on the couch, and all four faces turned to Valerie as she dashed in the door. "Who's contacted you?" "We have a few," Nat supplied. "No Laurie; she's trapped by her fractals. And Sharon Himmanen will be delayed because she's just gone to Penn State, and she wants to make sure the three who withdrew really are out before she comes up here." "Check. Who else?" "Sharon Scott and Susan are on the way. , but Susan's working on getting more Ravenettes first." Frowning, Janette interrupted with a nod toward Valerie's big grey T-shirt, the front of which proclaimed *Join the Human Race*. "Propaganda? That should start us off well." "It's for work, Janette; a fundraiser I'm involved in on Sunday." Valerie turned around to show her the BalletMet logo among those of several sponsors on the back of the shirt. "I'm going to rollerskate 10k in a straw hat and a pink tutu, and I *guarantee* it's no threat to you. Okay?" "No need to get impatient about it," Janette replied airily. "Well, you might as well sit down and collect yourself," Nick put in with a sigh. "The others will be getting here soon enough." "Right. And we can hammer out a plan then. WE're gonna need all the heads we can get together for that. Meanwhile, though . . . Janette, we *have* to know what was in the fax you sent Laurie. I wasn't abe to find out from her before I took off up here." "Then why should I tell you?" Janette countered. "Come on, Janette, I think it's gone a little beyond whatever that little game was," Nat told her sharply. "We need all this information out in the open." "Really?" the vampiress returned. "Like just what 'sensitive information' LaCroix got along with the application database?" "That too," Natalie agreed. "Right, Nick?" All eyes turned to their host, sinking into his armchair and a near-visible cloud of gloom. "Yeah. Right." The four women exchanged concerned looks at his attitude, but that too would have to wait. Maybe when Sharon Scott arrived... ---- -- The Bad Penny * Valerie Lynn Meachum ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 04:29:11 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--At Nick's Summit Meeting, Part I July 8, 1994, early evening Bruce and I stepped into our hotel room. We'd just had dinner, I'd made a call to Mom, and now we were ready for a little rest after our shopping expedition. "Boy, you'd never expect Toronto being so far north would be so _hot_," I said, peeling out of my clothes. "Yeah," said Bruce, also starting to undress. "I'll be glad to get a shower." And, as usual, he beat me to it. Ten minutes later he was finished and I had my turn. When I emerged afterwards in my terry robe, I knew something was up. "What is it?" I asked. "I called Die-Hard Headquarters. They got word there's to be a meeting of various factions at Nick's place tonight." "When?" "They said whenever people could get there." "Are the Cousins going to be there?" "I don't know." "Well, we'd better get dressed then." My heart was fluttering. Soon we'd be at Nick's. It was still a little hard to believe. We dressed. Bruce passed me the cross on a chain he'd bought me earlier today. Not that I thought it would really be of much help, but you never knew. He put on his own cross. I packed our defensive items in my tote bag. Before long, we stood outside Nick's building. It looked just like it did on the show. It was uncanny. We walked up to the door. "Our crosses," I said. "It might make Nick uncomfortable if they're visible." I put my own down inside my shirt. Bruce hid his as well. Then we pressed the buzzer. "Yes?" came an unfamiliar female voice. "I'm Bruce Gray, with the Die-Hards, with my wife, Sandra. We heard there was to be a meeting here." "Oh. Come on up." The door buzzed and Bruce opened it. When we opened the elevator door, it was like looking at the TV set, but from an angle not usually used. There was a group of mostly unfamiliar people in the room, but I did recognize _three_ of them. One was Natalie Lambert. Another was Janette. The third, his expression somewhat haunted and irritated at the same time, was Nick Knight. My pulse started to race. Bruce stepped into the room and said, "Gee. If you guys are real, I wonder how many other TV characters are." People looked at him in some confusion. I felt my face getting red. Bruce walked further into the room and I followed. "I'm Bruce Gray. This is my wife, Sandra." A thin redhead approached us. "Hi. I'm Valerie Meachum." She made the introductions of the others, ending with, "The--man on the couch is John Dencoff." Cousin John? He looked very ill--in fact, he appeared to be unconscious. His skin was very pale. I wondered what had happened to him, but never comfortable around strangers at first, I was afraid to ask. Bruce _never_ had such problems. People were sitting and standing wherever they could. I noticed a vacant dining table chair near the stairs and sat down on it. "You're with the Die-Hards?" asked Valerie. "I am. Sandra's not." "I've--never declared an affiliation," I said, glancing over at Nick, who was sitting in a chair near the couch. He was looking at me and I looked away quickly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to reveal my affiliation yet, either. Bruce pulled up a dining chair and sat down next to me. "We're here to help however we can. But we're, I guess you'd say, 'newbies' to all of this," said Bruce. "I got some information from Die-Hard Headquarters about what's been going on, but could someone tell us why all the groups' mail was here in the first place?" Nick briefly explained. My God! He was even more handsome in person than he was on TV! Almost made me wish I wasn't married. Not that he'd ever be interested in me. I'd been blessed with a thick mane of light red hair (now just shoulder-top length) but was otherwise fairly nondescript and, worse, wore large glasses with rust-tinted plastic frames. Although for some odd reason, people tended to remember me--even if it had been _years_ since they last saw me. I started wondering what sex with a vampire was like instead of paying a lot of attention to what Nick was saying so I was a little startled when Bruce said, "Why didn't each group have its' own mail drop?" --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 18:47:51 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FK Wars 2: A Long Strange Trip Curiosity Kills the Cat? Sharon Himmanen Sharon stood in the center of Cousin Sandye's darkened living room. All was still and silent, signs of the trio's hasty retreat evident from the shambles the room was in. Nothing moved here. Nothing lived here. It had taken most of the day to get here. Flying coach was not without it's problems--she'd had a 3 hour layover in Pittsburgh, and hadn't even managed to get a flight out of Detroit until 12:30 pm. She'd gone to Laurie first. The ex-Cousin had mumbled something about fractals, a t-shirt database and the fact that the cousins across the hall had skipped town all in one breath before tossing the keys to Sandye's apartment in her direction. So, Sharon went across the hall to see what she could find. Which, so far, was nothing except evidence of a hasty and somewhat permanent departure. The sharp knock on the door startled her. For a moment she panicked--she wasn't supposed to be here, even though she had been given a key. It was technically trespassing. But curiosity got the better of her and she softly crossed the room and looked out through the peephole. A UPS worker stood at the door expectantly. Then he knocked again. "Coming!" Sharon said, slipping over to the nearest lamp and switching it on. Might as well be a good samaritan and collect Sandye's package for her. But she didn't want to look suspicious, answering the door in a completely darkened apartment. She signed Sandye's name for the package, thanked the guy and closed the door on his retreating form. It was a big square package addressed to Sandye. And the return address said the FBI! Should she *open* it? It was a federal offense to open someone else's mail, but this was from the FBI! What was Sandye doing getting packages from the Federal Bureau of Investigation? Sharon hefted it in her hands--it was moderately heavy but not excessively so. Then she shook it gently. Nothing moved inside the box. So she stared at it for nearly five minutes. When she couldn't stand it anymore she reached into her pocket and pulled out her Swiss Army Knife to slit the packing tape. That's when the phone rang. The machine would get it, she thought to herself, ignoring the second and third ring. She half listened to Sandye's message, but then the voice that spoke into the machine and what he said sent a shudder through her and riveted her attention to the phone. It was LaCroix. "My dear, why don't you pick up," he said softly, and although his tone was completely civil, the command in it was unmistakable. Sharon barely stopped herself from lifting the receiver in time. There was a long sigh. "I know you're there, and by now you've discovered that my . . . followers have departed." Still she listened. "A good leader *always* knows what his followers are saying, especially when he's not around," LaCroix continued pointedly. Ah, thought Sharon. He has the place bugged. Then she stopped. He has the place bugged! "That's right. I see you're getting it now. I knew one of *her* followers would show up sooner or later and I thought it best to be prepared. Now, I'm getting tired of talking into this machine." No way, Sharon thought to herself, putting distance between herself and the phone. No way I'm falling into this trap! No, best to leave now! She turned for the front door. "Aren't you even the least bit curious as to what I have to say?" he asked smoothly. Damn! That got her! Between the package and LaCroix her curiosity was burning through her. And she realized she didn't have the resolve to keep it down simply to spite LaCroix. The truth was, she *had* to know what he wanted. Just like she *had* to know what was in that package. Patiently he waited for her. And slowly she retraced her steps back to the phone. She reached down and lifted the receiver to her ear. to be continued . . . o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o | Sharon Himmanen | shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu * romana@aol.com | | Nat Pack | s.himmanen@genie.geis.com | o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 08:40:59 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FK Wars 2: Yes, we have no titles today -------------------------------------------- Late afternoon/early evening July 8th She didn't speak at first, just lifted the receiver and waited. "That's better," he said after a moment. "Why don't you go ahead and open the package," he said. "It *is* for you, after all." "For me?" "Think of it as an olive branch of sorts," he continued. Sharon hit the switch for the speaker phone, then returned the receiver to its cradle and resumed opening the package. She lifted the lid and removed a large piece of packing foam. Nestled comfortably inside was an expensive grey laptop. "Nick's laptop," she said, looking up at the phone. "Intact," LaCroix added, "including the database, Larry Merlin's tiresome security precautions, Nick's tedious personal files that he's trying desperately to avoid talking about . . . and a few hidden files." "Hidden files? Nick doesn't know how to hide files on a computer." "That's right," LaCroix said. "Nick doesn't." "So, who's are they?" She'd get around to asking why he was doing this later. "Who gave Nick the mail? Who talked him into setting up the database?" LaCroix paused. "Who managed to find three occasions when she needed to go over and check it?" Sharon knew even before he finished speaking. "Janette?" "Janette." "But . . . this doesn't make any sense. Why didn't she just put them on her own laptop?" LaCroix chuckled. "I'll admit, this is elaborate, even for Janette. I think I might have to change my mind about her." This definitely didn't make any sense. Maybe if she knew what was in the files she'd-- But LaCroix cut off her train of thought. "I think I've given you enough. You're a smart girl. You can figure it out." He laughed softly. "But I'd hurry if I were you. They're all gathered at Nicholas' dreary loft. *All* of them, including Janette." "Just two more things," Sharon said quickly when she thought he was going to break the connection. He didn't hang up, but there was a chilly silence on the other end of the line. "Please." "I suppose I could spare you another moment or two." "If you knew what Janette was up to, and I presume you did, why'd you go along with it and steal this stuff?" "It amuses me," he said simply. "Then why are you doing this now, telling all this to me?" "It amuses me," he said again. Sharon leaned back on the couch, the laptop in front of her and breathed a small sigh of wonder. LaCroix amused himself by making a lot of people jump through a lot of hoops. And they'd all done it. And she knew she'd jump through a few more before this was finished. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked softly. "You don't really, and I could very well be lying. But you believe me already. And Janette needs to know that she will *always* be transparent to me. Just as you *all* are," LaCroix said, ice and steel creeping into his voice. "I have a question for you." Sharon felt her throat go instantly dry. She tried to swallow over the lump to speak but couldn't. Without thinking she nodded slowly, then immediately felt ridiculous. "I was just wondering, my dear, when you were finally going to give in to your instincts and join me? I've spoken to Laurie--before her defection she filled me in on some of your conversations." "I wouldn't hold my breath," Sharon said with a bit more bravado than she actually felt. She was grateful that her voice didn't waver. "Still," LaCroix said, "I sense that it's only a matter of time. You can only follow Nicholas' precious Natalie for so long before getting bored. I have *so* much more to offer you." She flashed briefly on Natalie's warning to her at the end of their first conversation, the warning about getting in over her head. Well she was way in now and no one was around. "But," LaCroix said, a note of congeniality creeping into his voice. "I can wait." And with that, he broke the connection. She'd worry about this later. A lot later. Sharon immediately dialed the number for Nick's loft and got a busy signal. "Damndamndamndamndamn!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and grabbing the laptop. If they were all meeting email wasn't going to do any good--nobody'd be checking. She'd have to send a telegram and then get up to Toronto as fast as possible. ----- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 14:41:20 18000 From: Valerie Meachum Subject: FKWars2: Coming Together > > "Nat, look at this!" > > The coroner looked over Valerie's shoulder, where Nan's plaintive > message stood out bright on the monitor. Janette was still pouting, > Nick was still brooding, and the agitated Bad Penny had taken the > brief lull to telnet to her account and see what was up. > > "Well, what do you know," Natalie said, a smile slowly forming. > "Sanity just might be taking hold after all." > > "I'll let her know the Raven is temporarily out of the loop--" this > was punctuated by an indignant noise from Janette "--and that she > should come here instead. I have to be back in Ohio by tomorrow > afternoon for sure because the Battle of Agincourt is being > choreographed, so the more brains we can get together to agree on some > action, the sooner we can get them, the better off we'll be." > > "Agincourt," Nick echoed, grumbling. "The French aced themselves out > of every advantage they had." > > "Which is just what we can't afford to do," Tanaquil put in. > > "And if we play it right," Valerie added with a glance at Janette, > "exactly what LaCroix *will*." > > Janette made no reply. > > -- > The Bad Penny * Valerie Lynn Meachum > > "I fought fire with fire most of my life, and all it got me was > burned." --Bill Miller > -- The Bad Penny * Valerie Lynn Meachum ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 14:05:40 EDT From: Pamela Rush Subject: A FoDly development 2:30 PM Friday, July 8: University of Kentucky ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----- ABSENCE RECORD FORM NAME: Sherry Lin W. Crabtree DATE(S) ABSENT: July 11, 1994 - July 15, 1994 PURPOSE: (X) Vacation leave ( ) TDL w/pay ( ) Medical leave ( ) Funeral leave ( ) Military leave ( ) Family leave EXPENSES: ( ) Claiming expenses (X) Not claiming expenses Acct#_______________ SIGNATURE: Sherry W. Crabtree DATE: 7/8/94 SUPERVISOR:________________________ DEAN:______________________________ ------------------------------------------------------------------ thought Pamela, picking up the multi-paged Absence Form from her in-basket. she thought, mentally snapping her fingers, which isn't easy, <*next* week is the *tour*! How could I have forgotten that?> She quickly signed her own name under Sherry's on the application for vacation time and tossed it towards the departmental mail basket. Sher would have a good time.... Travel always gave one the opportunity to meet new people, try new restaurants, get thrown out of strange bars.... (to be continued....) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 17:48:00 -0700 From: Ava Chan-Crowder Subject: FK War : To Toronto It was Friday, July 8th, nearly 7pm PDT. It had been two days since she had posted to Selma and Sharon that she was ready to take part in the war. And she still hadn't heard from either of them....or anyone for that matter. Grabbing her iced tea, she sat in front of her trusty IBM 486 and powered it up. Hearing the welcoming FK theme, she knew her computer was up and running. After three tries, she finally was able to access her local BBS. Still nothing. "Hmm...I must send a comment to that sysop of mine".....She logged of and exited the communications program. This time, she opened up AOL....after logging on, she was greeted by the "Happy Happy Joy Joy"chorus as sung by Ren and Stimpy....finally, she had email! >To: Nat Pack shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu, > nlambert@toronto.gov.ca, jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com> >Cc: Knighties reisner@PANIX.COM, AvaABC123@aol.com> >From: sarajnsn@violet.berkeley.edu >Subject: Update > >Hello all! I'm leaving for Toronto this afternoon. The more >eyes we have at the Raven, the better. Janette has to be the key >to this thing. I may have to lay low over the weekend in order to >work out my best method of approach. I've checked and triple >checked the security on this account; I think it's safe to use again. >I'll be checking in regularly, so let me know of anything useful you >might hear. Does anyone know what the Graces and the FOSSILS >have been up to? > >Hope to be in touch again by Monday, if not before. > >Tanaquil At long last, contact had been made! She saved the post and logged off. Hmm...she had to think...what would her next move be? Sipping her tea, and running her fingers through her hair, she wondered what to do....what to do? With a snap of her fingers, she was logging back onto her account on her local BBS, although it wasn't the quickest, it was certainly the most inexpensive account she had.... -------- To : SelmaMc@aol.com scotts@baylor.edu reisner@PANIX.COM nlambert@toronto.gov.ca jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com sarajnsn@violet.berkeley.edu Romana@aol.com, >From : ava.chan-crowder@wcoast.cts.com Subject : To Toronto Hi all - Glad to finally hear word. I was beginning to wonder if my services were needed. I will be on a flight to Toronto shortly. I will email you on my arrival in Toronto. As far as information goes : I have heard that the FOSsiLs have shown themselves to a very dangerous organization. I haven't heard any information regarding The Graces. And speaking of information, any word from Brian yet? Is he still locked up? Well, that's all for now, I will be touch after I get settled in Toronto. Take care, ~~~Ava :-) AvaABC123@aol.com ava.chan-crowder@wcoast.cts.com "If we don't stand together, we stand to lose the future." Queensryche -------- She sent the email, logged off , and sat back. Looking up at the clock, it was nearly 7:30 pm PDT...she had a few more things to do around the house before she needed to get to the airport. It was nearly 9pm, and the taxi hadn't arrived. Where was he? She had ordered the Yellow Cab 20 minutes earlier. A few minutes later, a white Jetta drove up. It was her neighbor Neal. Ava opened her front door. "Hi Neal." "Hi Ava. How are you?" "Just fine. Neal, can I ask you to do a favor for me?" "Sure, no problem. What is it?" "Can you take me to the airport?" "Sure. It is the least that I can do. After all, you did take in my mail when I was gone on vacation two weeks ago. When do you want to go?" Neal unlocked his front door. "Right now." He looked at his neighbor...she had a determined look on her face and he knew better than to question her. "Okay. Grab your stuff." Ava popped back into her apartment, grabbed her backpack, duffle bag, and the laptop she had purchased just before unemployment had set in. Within 15 minutes Neal had dropped her off at Lindbergh Field. After purchasing her ticket for the red-eye, Ava sat in the terminal and waited. A short time later, the final boarding call was announced and Ava was ready for her adventure to begin. ---- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 23:41:08 EDT From: Panstygia@AOL.COM Subject: FK Wars II - SideTrip To Hell Nan slipped out of her seedy hotel room, her laptop slung over her shoulder in it's case. She scanned the empty street in both directions before stepping out of the shadow of the doorway and down the sidewalk towards her car. She'd gotten the message from her new friends to meet them at Nicks. Her heart thumped a little faster. She'd always had such a crush on the guy... That, coupled with the reality of her defection made her stomach twist tightly into knots. She reached her car unmolested. Even the feeling of being watched had disappeared and she slid easily into the drivers seat and popped her favorite tape into the tape deck before starting the engine. A little Rick would do a lot to soothe her jagged nerves. Maybe a couple of cuts from "Tao". She started the car and pulled out into traffic, settling back against the street, her left foot already tapping to the rhythm she knew would be coming from the speakers any second now... Oh God. Oh No! That wasn't Rick. Oh no, oh no, oh no. That was....AAAAGGGGHHHHH!!! Andy Gibb! A bright, blinding light flashed in front of her and she yanked on the wheel just in time to avoid a collision with another car. Somehow she'd veered into the other lane. She clutched the wheel and tried to direct the car onto the proper side of the road. Her stomach was churning and she could feel the itchy, burning hives pop up along her arms and legs. Any second now she was going to lose it, get sick all over the dash. She had to....get the ... tape...out... The car speakers droned on... "Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive..." Nan slammed on the breaks and reached blindly for the tape deck, pressing frantically with her fingers to eject the tape. Finally, the was silence. She jammed the car into park and collapsed forward, letting her head rest against the steering wheel. Who could have done this? Had Janette somehow found out? No. She was clever, but nan had been careful never to show the woman any vulnerability. But if not Janette, then who? She sat back against the seat, wiped the sweat from her forehead. Who on earth knew about her.... problem... with disco? And then it hit her. Her long-time "friend", her once boon companion. "Cousin" Tokaara. Nan's lips compressed into a grim smile. Well, if that was how the game was to be played, then there was only one thing to do. After the summit at Nick's, after she'd learned how best she could be of help, she'd have to run a little errand of her own. She'd fix Tok. Fix her for good... Panstygia Discobane ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 01:49:11 -0500 From: "Sharon S. Scott" Subject: FK War II: The Summit Jeez, it's a long drive from Waco to Toronto. I almost went to sleep at the wheel a couple of times in the lonesome wastes of North Texas & Oklahoma. Turned Sting up louder and louder, passed every 18-wheeler on the interstate, and hoped I didn't get stopped by the highway patrol. No laptop, and no way to connect to the net from a moving pickup, so I was in the dark about what was going on at the summit. But I had to get there. The last messages I had seen before I left were, well, I'm not easily frightened, but this thing seemed to be out of control. The Emperor had become an ex-cousin--he might or might be brought across--the Abarat had been found--the Raven had been attacked by garlic bombs--cats were running rampant--Sandye, Monica, & Dennis had disappeared--Laurie had gone into seclusion in State College, Pennsylvania--half of North America was converging on Toronto. What the blazes was going on? I've got to get there. I've got an idea of what LaCroix is really up to. Why would he care about Nick's database? Lists of names and addresses and affiliations? What use could it possibly be to him? He had to have stolen the database for some reason other than the nuisance factor. He has a hidden agenda. And I think I know what it is. ---------------------------------------- On the road again, Sharon S. scotts@baylor.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 20:22:22 -0500 From: Betsy Vera Subject: Another long night's drive Friday, July 8, 8:18 pm Betsy had spent several hours at her desk ignoring the work she should've been doing, going through the motions whenever her boss came near. Jeffrey's a nice guy and all, but even he would've noticed that she had spent most of the day reading--and trying not to fall asleep over--the thick Die-Hard Charter. Hadn't the Die-Hards ever heard that brevity is the soul of something-or-other? By the time she had slogged through the legalese, stopping occasionally to do pretend-work and to rue the day she had ever let Sharon talk her into this mission, it was quitting time. She turned on the computer, ready to get in touch with the Die-Hards. "Great! Just bloody great!" MTS was down, and nothing was coming in or going out. She couldn't wait. She was itching for some action, especially after the incredibly boring day she'd just had. If she could only get to the center of things, where the *fun* stuff was happening. "Well, of course, you fool!" She smacked her hand on her forehead. Nick, the Raven, and LaCroix all lived (so to speak) in Toronto, so that's where the action was bound to be sooner or later. And Toronto was only a four-hour drive away. Good thing she'd just had the car's air-conditioning fixed (her wallet was going to be hurting for a long time over that one). Once again, it was 92 and muggy. After dropping Ace off at her sister's (Betsy's sister, not Ace's :-) ) and packing a sleeping bag and some food, she set off eastward. Towards adventure. ------------------------------------------ betsy.vera@mailgw.uprod.music.umich.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 19:25:12 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--At Nick's Summit Meeting, Part II "Why didn't each group have its own mail drop?" asked Bruce. "You know, I don't know," said Nick. Bruce hesitated a moment, then said, "Well, we were at the Die-Hard Headquarters this morning and have checked back with them throughout the day. Are any of the rest of you with the Die-Hards?" No one spoke up and most people shook their heads no when Bruce looked around the room. "I know some of you--Natalie Lambert, Nick Knight, Janette? (his voice hesitated a bit on the vampires' names)--have received a copy of the Die-Hard Charter?" His question made an impact on my fog and I started to pay attention to the conversation. "I did. And I read it," said Natalie. Janette said sullenly, "I haven't seen one." Nick just sat in his chair with a thoughtful faraway expression on his face. Afraid of being distracted again, I looked at Bruce. But it wasn't easy to forget I was actually in the same room with Nick Knight! I focused on the conversation again. "Well, since I am the only representative of the Die-Hards here, I guess I should state a few of our positions. The Die-Hard Headquarters is located at the St. George Residence next to the University of Toronto. (He gave the address.) We will offer our location for mediating an end to these conflicts--that is, unless something's decided here, of course--but it is _neutral_ ground. That means that no group meeting there will be allowed to try and recruit anyone else there to their sides. Also, should _anyone_ desire sanctuary for _any_ reason, the St. George is available for that. We're well defended against attacks, believe me. We even have aerial laser defenses." Janette raised an eyebrow at that remark and Nick--well, he looked like he was paying attention now too. "If anyone doesn't have access to one and wants to see a copy of the full Die-Hard Charter, just call Headquarters and I'm sure someone can let you see one. I think those are the main points I needed to get across." "Thank you, Bruce," said Valerie after a moment. "So...what actions have you been contemplating?" asked Bruce. "Well, we were just discussing laying out our cards on the table," said Valerie. "I think Janette should tell us what was in the fax she sent to Laurie and Nick needs to tell us what sort of 'sensitive information' was on his stolen database." Everyone looked at the two vampires. Janette pursed her lips, but said nothing. Nick sighed and opened his mouth. He was interrupted by the sound of his door buzzer. He got up and answered it. "Hi! I'm Nan. I was told to come here," came a voice over the intercom. Nick let her in. Natalie walked over to shake the newcomer's hand. > "Nan. It's a pleasure to meet you. Come in, you're among friends." > Nan smiled tentatively. "Thanks. You don't know how good it is >to hear that. > Nan turned to face Valerie, smiled a greeting. "As I said in my >post, whatever you need, just ask." She took a seat on the floor >near the fireplace. Nick was still standing. He ran a hand through his hair and said, >"Okay, folks. Here's what we're up against..." The door buzzer sounded again! Nick answered it and then reappeared holding a telegram. > "It's from Sharon of the Nat Pack." he said. "Have your laptop. >All for LaCroix's amusement. On my way." > "Have your laptop?" Natalie echoed. "But that's already been >recovered." > "I know." Nick glanced longingly towards his refrigerator. >"What she has is a trap." > Natalie's eyes flashed. "But what could LaCroix want with her? >And what will he do to here?" > Nick just shook his head. "She's in trouble." Sharon Himmanen was in trouble with LaCroix? I looked over at "Cousin" John, still lying unconscious on the couch. Perhaps he'd had a run in with LaCroix as well? And come here for sanctuary? I hoped he was going to be all right. But surely, if he was in some great physical danger, they would have put him in the hospital. "Why don't we form a group to go steal the mail and LaCroix's database from LaCroix?" I said. Everyone looked at me in some shock. "Well, since he's after Sharon Himmanen, how long will it be before he goes after others? _She's_ not even a Knightie." I looked at Nick. "That's too dangerous for any mortals to contemplate doing." I was disappointed and confused. It was like him, I guessed, to want to protect mortals from LaCroix, but was he hinting he would do such a thing alone? I didn't think _that_ was a good idea, unless he had some other vampire or vampires to aid him. I looked at Janette, but she was watching Nick with almost a smirking expression. Why were we all here then, I wondered, if we weren't going to be allowed to help? Ivy popped out of the kitchen again and said, "There's food made up in the kitchen if anyone wants some." The others seemed to accept Nick's statement as the final word on the subject since no one else said anything more about it. Even Bruce wasn't interested, leaning over to whisper, "Are you crazy or something? We should be trying to help mediate an end to this conflict, not escalate it." "I _was_ trying to end it," I hissed back in a whisper. "If LaCroix doesn't have the information, how can he make use of it? Besides, _I'm_ not a Die-Hard." "Why don't you tell them what you are?" he whispered. I glanced over at Nick again. He was frowning at me. I looked over at Janette, who was watching me. Damn these vampires and their hearing! I said nothing more. Cousin John started to stir on the couch and opened his eyes. He looked a bit dazed as he slowly sat up. Some people had wandered out to the kitchen for a snack and came back. Nick was wandering around, looking a bit unsure about what to do--not to mention a bit frazzled, whether from the situation, the people, or--hunger, I couldn't tell. Maybe it was all three. The phone rang. Nick answered it with, "Nick Knight speaking." He listened a few moments, then said, > "As a matter of fact, she is. Who is this?" He listened again, >then said, "Janette, a friend of yours." She got up and walked over to the phone. > "Who are you? What do you want?" She sounded suspicious and a >little weak. There was a pause as she listened, then she said, >"No, no, no! I've heard about you, Betsy. You don't know where >your loyalties lie. I cannot have someone who is not sure of her >heart here with me!" There was more silence, then she said, >"All right. You can start by sweeping up that mess at the Raven." Her voice dropped some so I didn't catch all of her instructions. Finally she ended with, > "Call me here again when it is clean and *all* of the smell is >gone." She hung up the phone and resumed her seat in one of the black leather chairs. "Since we should be laying our cards on the table, I should tell you what I've found out," said Ivy. "I set up some sound surveillance equipment in the apartment under LaCroix's." "Where was that?" I asked. She hesitated. Then she gave the address. "This evening before I came here, I heard an interesting conversation. The Cousins have the Abarat. It's not destroyed." Everyone looked at Nick. "We don't need to be concerned with the Abarat now," he said, although his expression was wistful. "Well, I brought the tape so you could listen to it, see if you could identify the speakers." "Maybe we should all hear it," said Natalie. She ignored the glare Nick gave her. Ivy brought out the tape and we all listened to it. "It's Lisa McDavid," said Natalie. "She _knows_ where the Abarat is?" "She's a librarian," said Valerie. "She should be good at tracking down books." She paused, then said, "I wonder if the Abarat itself is in some library." No one said anything to that. "Maybe we should form a group and try to find Lisa." "But she's a Cousin and with LaCroix," said Ivy. "Maybe we can corner her when she's not with him." "Look, I don't mean to interrupt here, but how is finding this 'Abarat' going to end the Wars?" said Bruce. "That is, I know it\s of interest to you, Mr. Knight--" "Nick." Bruce hesitated. "Nick. But this whole thing started because of stolen mail. This Abarat stuff--oh, nevermind. If you all want to try and find it, well--" Valerie hesitated, then said, "You may have a point, Bruce. Perhaps, though, there's some way to accomplish _both_ aims?--ending the Wars _and_ retrieving the Abarat. Suggestions, anyone?" There was some conversation back and forth among various people. Nick and Janette were noncommittal when asked their opinions and the frustration level in the room was growing. Near midnight, Janette got up with her purse and announced, "I'm going upstairs to powder my nose." Nick gave her an odd expression as she walked upstairs. The door buzzer rang. Nick walked over, punched the button, and said, > "Yeah, who is it and what do you want?" > "Um, it's me--Sharon--the one from Texas. Remember me?" > "You're late. Come on up." When the elevator opened, a woman clad in a frog ballerina T- shirt stepped into the room. She looked around in a bemused way-- much the same way I imagined _I_ probably had looked around when I'd entered for the first time. She said, > "Sorry I'm late. I got here as soon as I could." She looked >down at her shirt and said, "Hey, I know it's weird, but it was a >gift. And the information on it came in handy. And I was in a big >hurry, and I forgot to take it off." She smiled. "And, as a matter >of fact, I've gotten kind of fond of it." She paused and added, >"So, what in Sam Hill's going on here?" (to be continued) --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 00:47:19 EDT From: Panstygia@AOL.COM Subject: FKWAR2- Safe Haven ---- SAFE HAVEN --- Nan entered Nick's loft apartment and stared around her at the many faces. She'd heard of them all, read their messages on the net. It was a little awe-inspiring. Natalie was the first to greet her. She came over and took Nan's hand, which was damp with perspiration. Besides that, she was still shaking a little from her ordeal in the car. But Natalie was all charm. "Nan. It's a pleasure to meet you. Come in, you're among friends." Nan smiled tentatively. "Thanks. You don't know how good it is to hear that." Whatever kind of relationship she'd had with Janette, she'd never have used the word friendship to describe it. Nan turned to face Valerie, smiled a greeting. "As I said in my post, whatever you need, just ask." She took a seat on the floor near the fireplace and awaited her instructions. The group was definitely gearing up for action, and the air crackled with a sense of polarization. Nick took the floor, and a hush fell over the crowd. "Okay, folks. Here's what we're up against..." Panstygia@aol.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 06:36:45 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--Stealing the Abarat [part 2/2]---------------------- July 8, 1994, early evening [NOTE: EARLIER ON LC COPIED LISA'S SOFTCOPY ONTO A LAPTOP] Still later, LaCroix touched down in the lawn outside the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library. In the moonlight the gray concrete building resembled some ghostly geometric turkey in silhouette. The revolving front doors were locked (besides, they probably had an alarm) and the place was dark inside. He looked for another way in and soon found one which he thought would be unlikely to be connected to an alarm: a window too high to reach without a _very_ long ladder. Once inside, LaCroix dropped down through the open plan of the place to the floor. He didn't need any light to locate the computer catalog system. He sat and called up the information on the "pornographic" _Dracula_ that he had donated. He looked around the octagonal room at the book-filled balconies that lined the walls--six stories of them. He scanned the signs on each one until he finally found the one he wanted. He finally saw the right section and flew up and over the wood railing of the balcony. Soon he found the book he wanted. He picked it up and briefly wondered if he should have brought the _real_ "pornographic" _Dracula_ to leave in its place. "They don't deserve it," he whispered. Book in hand, LaCroix made his exit, flying back to his apart- ment. He entered through his bedroom window. LaCroix looked at the Abarat. Now that he had Lisa's (and Larry's) translation--well, there was no reason it shouldn't suffer the original fate to which Nicholas had believed it had fallen. He placed the book in a metal trash can and flew to the roof of the building. And there consigned the Abarat to flames. --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 07:56:49 -0400 From: Elizabeth A Scroggs Subject: FKWARS2: Lurker's Lament Lurker's Lament Betsy Scroggs, finding the Raven empty and smelly, looked around for the nearest telephone. After finding Nick Knight's phone number from the police station, she dialed it, hoping that would be where Janette was. "Nick Knight speaking." "Detective Knight, is by any chance Janette there with you?" "As a matter of fact, she is. Who is this?" "Um, a friend of hers." At least, she hoped she was a friend. After a few moments Janette came to the phone. "Who are you? What do you want?" She sounded suspicious and a little weak. "Janette, it is an honor to talk to you. I've never sent an application or anything, but I would like to help you. My name is Betsy..." "No, no, no! I've heard about you, Betsy. You don't know where your loyalties lie! I cannot have someone who is not sure of her heart here with me!" "But no, Janette, I'm not her! I'm a different Betsy. I've been around for a long time, just not out in the open. I've been lurking, watching what everyone else has been doing before acting on my own. I've come all the way to Toronto to help you in this war however I can." Betsy hoped the truth showed in her voice. "All right. You can start by sweeping up that mess at the Raven. We had a bit of a mishap with a cat. I am afraid I cannot trust you with any important task yet, there have been too many betrayals and broken loyalties lately. I do appreciate your presence here. War or no war, I still have a business to run. I just hope my clientele will come back after what happened. Call me here again when it is clean and *all* of the smell is gone." Betsy spent the next few hours cleaning up broken glass and bits of garlic and cat hair. By morning, all she wanted to do was take a bath and try to soak away the dizzying garlic smell. --- Dear Windy, I made it to Toronto. The war is not as exciting as I thought it would be. Last night I was the best dressed janitor in Canada. But at least it's something. I shouldn't have lurked so long. I feel like I'm at a great disadvantage. I feel like I know everyone here, and everyone fighting, but none of them know me. And no one will ever want to know me the way I smell. Oh well, I'll manage. I'll keep you posted. Betsy ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 08:55:56 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: A telegram arrives In the room sat each in his or her place listening expectantly as Nick drew breath to lay his plan before them. The sudden rap on the door startled them all. Nick answered it then reappeared holding a telegram. "It's from Sharon of the Nat Pack." he said. "Have your laptop. All for LaCroix's amusement. On my way." "Have your laptop?" Natalie echoed. "But that's already been recovered." "I know." Nick glanced longingly towards his refrigerator. "What she has is a trap." Natalie's eyes flashed. "But what could LaCroix want with her? And what will he do to her?" Nick just shook his head. "She's in trouble." ----------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 11:16:09 EDT From: SusanG2522@AOL.COM Subject: FKWARSII--Is there an echo? IS THERE AN ECHO? Late Evening--July 8th Susan didn't want to look at the clock. She'd just gotten in from doing a final backup on one of the computers at work. But--hey--at least she'd found the 256 color video driver for her computer! Those GIFs looked really nice, now. Not that she cared. She was dead tired, not having eaten since noon. And her refrigerator, as usual, was even more empty than Nick's. "Damn, forgot to buy food again," she muttered, as Diego wandered by, giving her a 'God, are you finally home? Well, don't bother walking me because I peed in the living room' look. That's when the phone rang. Susan picked up the portable, then opened the refrigerator again, hoping against hope something edible had grown since her last look inside. "Hello?" "Where have you been?" Susan closed the refrigerator door and leaned against it. "What?" There was an odd quality to the voice. "Who is this?" "Have you forgotten me so soon? Or have your loyalties changed?" It was Janette. Only she could get just the right hint of sarcasm in her tone. "You know me," said Susan. "--I am, and will always be, your faithful Ravenette." She paused. "Where are you calling from--sounds like an echo chamber." "I'm on Nicola's cellular, in the bathroom." "In his loft?" That gave Susan a start. She sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. "That reminds me, I asked the question on the list, but nobody seemed to want to answer it. Since your bodies absorb blood, do you actually have to--?" "Don't be crass!" snarled Janette. "I don't have much time. The others are downstairs." "Others?" "Nicola, his coroner friend, and several of their followers." She sighed. "They've got one of LaCroix's ex-friends as well. The one you tried to bring to our side?" "EX-Cousin John? Is he all right?" "In a matter of speaking. LaCroix found out about his possible defection. He's definitely one of the blood, now. Such a shame--Alma rather took a fancy to him during that last war's meeting at the Raven." Susan nodded, remembering how Janette had chased Alma away. "Too bad. If you've gotta go, at least have a good time on the trip." "Yes. Which is why I'm calling. Why aren't you ?" "I have to work for a living. Fiction and fan mail is all well and good, but we mortals need cold hard cash to put food in our . . . refrigerators. When we remember to shop," Susan added mournfully, wondering if Mickey D's had extended their hours for the summer crowd yet. "I'm supposed to work on Vicki's PC tomorrow and--" "I want you here. " "I won't be able to get a flight from--" "If you can dream my revenge on Monica, you can find a way to get up here." The steel in Janette's voice softened slightly. "I liked the coyotes. And the baby scorpions." "Just keeping my ears open. And Laurie helped." Frantically, Susan started going through her alternatives. But in the mean time--"I heard the ghastly trio packed up the menagerie and took a road trip." "LaCroix won't be pleased," said Janette after a pause. "But I think he's too busy at the moment to go after them. And I have a score to settle with Monica. As if I'd go after any of the Warren for no reason." "And Laurie's still locked in her apartment, Trouble on her lap and fractals on the screen?" "So I gather," growled Janette. "I started this whole thing for her, you know. I knew LaCroix wouldn't let one of his people escape without dire torment. And some have accused me of not taking care of my own. It would have been such a splendid coup--" "Until people started jumping ship left right and center," agreed Susan. "Well, you know you can count on me." "You'd never leave me?" Susan shuddered at the word--"Just . . . don't