Caught in a Lie

[Jazz]

COM LOG//NEURAL NET ENTRY 13
Portable Edition/ Load name Ian

PASSWORD:***********

PASSWORD Correct

Alright, now that I'm all geared up and am in position, I will go over the plan. I shall leave my portable neural net in for review later, to see any thing I missed.

As most burglars do, I will go at night. The protection is heavy in the station I'm trying to break into, but I'm sure that I brought enough nerve gas to keep em busy. Almost weighs as much as I do. Heh, imagine that.
That stupid window washer thought I was the repairman. Well, I was a bit fishy with a large tank of gas the likes of which nobody has ever seen before. I waved hello at him, and he looked at me funny. I ignored him as I moved on.



So its set and ready. It closes relatively soon so I will have to stop worrying. Times like these I wish I had a real pistol, not this syringe compressor.

<The neural cam focuses on the lanky teenager. His hair, a little longer than most, hides his face. He looks at his watch, then at the guard. Right on time, a changing of the guard happens and he makes his move. The camera shows him hitting the canister release into the air supply. A deep purple taints the once clean windows of the facility>

Its really to bad that once you take the antidote for this, you don't ever need it again. Its one of my own special brews. It causes a complete sensory deprivation. If all goes well, and nobody's wearing a gas mask, everyone should be bumping along the hallways without hearing or seeing or even feeling anything.

Now for part B. Me charging in, and finding his office.

<The camera slips into a small patch in his pocket, preventing any video input from showing>

I'm running along...running...geez, I am out of shape here....there it is.....Damn, 4 ring encryption codie. Put in AI.
waiting......open.....reinsert AI in computer...........He's done.....door........another door.......hallway........mad bumbling guards.......hallway.........door......finally, computer.
...hurry up......Done, now to get out................running.......


Crap, security caught up. Time for a little distraction.

<a large whooshing sound enters the mic and the neural net slips out of the pocket, dangling from the wire. The first image seen is a large cloud of a deep brown mix in with the dirty purple.>

There...more potent......hallucinogens....crap.....face mask slipping...eyes burning......must've....out.....there, the ceiling!

<the camera shows a door bang open as Ian enters a black spatial parked conspicuously placed on the helipad section>

---

Some say that he is allergic to a fungus found only between the toes of Corsairs,
and that he is oblivious to 98% of Liberty Law. All we know is...
He's called the Busdriver!