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04/25/10(Sun)01:18 No.9412611 File1272172683.jpg-(63 KB, 567x877, rcm-019.jpg)
>>9412191 "Ty? You in here?" I opened the door and walked in, down to the basement. Ty's mom was upstairs, I followed the rules and didn't bother her - the 78 year old woman had the run of most of the house, and liked it. Ty, the bread winner, holed himself up in the basement, in the middle of a desk of a dozen-plus rigs, shelves lined with others that he had tried and cycled out. He looked up, a weighty, but not quite obese fellow with a crewcut and bottle glasses. Husky, I guess you'd call him.
"Hey, Marco. What's new?"
"Ah, I got a job that needs finishing. Thought I'd see if I could bum a line for an hour."
"An hour?" He raised an eyebrow, attempting a Spock on me. "Come on. You know how much my bandwidth bills are now?"
"Yeah, and I also know that you're on three corp accounts to comp them all." I smirked. "Triple-billing isn't too wise-"
"Plug in." He sighed. "The usual fees apply."
"Hey, than...ks." I eyed his rigs. "Dude, you've gone Luxor with everything?"
"Nah, I'm doing three Lux`es, two IBMs and an R99."
"Man, no CarDs?"
"I just don't use them anymore. Too many dropped files."
"Fine, fine." I lugged down a suitcase rig, flipped the screen up, and started to wire it in. He rarely used the Spectrum, so I unplugged that one. "So what's the gig?"
"Langley probe."
"Again?"
"They'll find a way in one of these days." |