[Snowpocalypse] Distant Signals (L 1.3)

Rich

To Lemma:

You've got Marmot working hard at cleaning some of your tools. Did you give her important devices or boring shit to make sure she doesn't mess them up?

Your radio sparks to life from something incoming. What kind of radio is it?

Lemma... you out there? It's Kemper. Lemma?

How do you know Kemper? What was the last thing you said to him?

What do you do?

Transcriptase

I'm keeping things pretty simple for Marmot for now. If it's complicated, I'll do the work and she watches and maybe assists. But I'm trying to let her be independent, partly because I think it's good for her and partly because it means she interrupts me less.

So, I tell her to let the thing run a bit, listen to it, maybe use it on some scrap, then do the maintenance, then use it again, so she knows what changed. It's slow, and I've probably lost more time showing her what to do than I've gained in work done, but I'm not too worried.

The radio's one of those short-wave jobs, which are pretty common. Well, at least, most serious gangs and hardholds have a few of them, although units small enough to carry with you are worth enough to get killed over.

I've got my own dedicated frequency, which is less common. There've been no-shit turf wars over bandwidth. But enough scary people want a way to get in touch with me that people respect my space on the spectrum.

Kemper's one of those. His crew's not the biggest or the best-armed, but he's a cunning and ruthless, and they make a living pulling off jobs most folks don't think are worth the risk. Sometimes he uses stuff I make to give him the edge he needs. So, a working relationship, but I really don't want to be on his bad side.

Week or two ago, I sold him a tracker. Put the little box on the thing you want to track, wave the bigger box around until it beeps faster, go in the direction it beeps. Not sure what use he was going to put it to. Could be as innocent as letting his scouts coordinate, could be setting up ambushes out in the ice where caravans think they're safe from people if not weather.

Same basic thing I sold to Hadden. Which, I guess, shows I still have some details to work out, but it's still pretty neat, right?

Rich

To Lemma:

Cool. I assume you answer?

If so, he calls back over:
Lemma. Good, good. I'm sending three of mine your way. They're bringing some scrap, I need you to put it back together. I'll throw a couple extra jingle if you can get it done in a couple days.

What do you do?

Transcriptase

"Sure thing, Kemper. I'll keep an eye out."

Rich

To Lemma:

Kemper ends the transmission. He aint chatty. After a beat, Marmot says with a bit of an edge to her voice, "First work. This is good, yeah?"

She gets back to filing down the edges of that piece of metal you got.

After an hour or so, the door opens. It's one of your relatives, Seatbelt, and they look haggard and worried. Why haven't you seen them around in a while?

What do you do?

Transcriptase

Seatbelt runs convoys, gets goods from point A to point B through the freeze. He's a good navigator but not much a fighter. Couple months back, he took a job running valuables for Gnu and the shipment never made it. Ambushed or something, maybe. He survived, but since he lost a couple truckloads of Gnu's shit, he hasn't shown his face around for a while. If he's surfaced, maybe he's got a plan to get Gnu off his back. Which might, or might not, be a good idea for me to get involved in.

So, I'm I little careful and maybe less warm than long-lost cousins strictly deserve when I say "Seatbelt. What can I help you with?"

Transcriptase

And, what the heck, I think he's got trouble trailing after him. I'm trying to read him.

(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 1, 6. Total: 8)

Rich

To Lemma:

Seatbelt comes in, looks to Marmot, makes some kind of decision about her, then ignores her to come up to you. "Hey, cuz, been a while." He pauses, like maybe you'll warm up. But you don't, do you?

"Listen, uh, I got a sweet gig goin on right now. Should be a fuckton o jingle when I get the payoff." He pauses again, making sure he has your attention. "But I need you. Can you come with me fer a day, help out?"

Transcriptase

"Good to see your head above ground, Seatbelt. What's the gig?"

Spend my hold: What does he intend to do?

Rich

To Lemma:

"Me and some fellas are burnin our way through the tunnels under Soldier's Field. We should be able to gank their shit easy peasey while they're sleepin and GTFO." He's got that tricksie grin on his face. "If you can help with tanks for the burner, an mappin, that'd save us days, yeah?"

What do you do?

Transcriptase

I mean, I'm not heartless. I just do a good impression sometimes. Seatbelt's a shifty little grifter but he's family and he's actually useful for getting things across the ice. It would be good to have him out from under his rock.

"Yeah, all right, I can help you out-- for a standard cut. And... look, it's not going to do you any good to pay off Gnu by pissing off some other wild-eyed killer, so either pick the right targets or don't get caught, all right?"

Of course, there's the job for Kemper, too... but Marmot's been chomping at the bit for pretty much exactly this, hasn't she? It's not easy for me to hand things off, but I'm going to have to learn. I pull her aside.

"If Kemper's boys come in with the scrap while I'm gone, help them unload it, have them tell you what they want done, then... well, figure out what you think needs to be done, and do as much of it as you think you can without me."

She probably lights up a bit, eager, and I don't want to step on that feeling, but...

"Remember, your judgment about what you can do is way more important than your welding. I need you to demonstrate both, all right?"

Rich

To Lemma:

Seatbelt winks, "That's my cuz. When can ya go?"

Then you give Marmot her marching orders, and she nods enthusiastically. Yeah, this is exciting shit: it's her first test, and you've pretty much flipped her Dumpie world. "Got it. Both. I'll do both, no probs."

What do you do?

Transcriptase

"Pretty much now, Seatbelt. Let me get my tools together. Got any special requests?"

Rich

"Nope, Lemma. Just your talented self." Seatbelt answers, and waits for you to grab your tools and go.

--END SCENE--