Outside, an abused payphone starts to ring.

Kaz and Bernie, who are flopped on different pews, waiting, look up. Kaz mutters, "Avon calling," and goes to get it. "Yo, this deep, dark, and mechanical?"

Bernie grins, rather excited with the intrigue of it all, and follows quickly, leaning over Kaz's shoulder to listen in as well.

Today, the voice is mechanical but female. Who knows who or what's on the other end. "Yes."

Kaz can roll with that. Getting down to business, she says, "Well, hi. So you were talkin' goods before. What kind of goods are better than our, um, unique kind of destruction?"

"Those are services," the female voice drones out after a pause. "Items of power are what I prefer over services."

Despite herself, Kaz is getting interested by this person who knows so much. "Magical power? That's not really my bag, but I could try and get something. What sorta power are you talkin', here? Healing, light, fire... Gimme an idea."

Bernie listens quietly, trying to catch the full conversation as it occurs.

The female's voice ponderously speaks, "I believe you refer to them as a 'fetish.' One of those. Not a talen." Where a normal person would pause, there are none--leaving the speech a little hard to follow at times and eerily not human. Though this would be no surprise to someone who's dealt with computers before.

"What are you, whacked?" Kaz's self censor evidently never made it into work today. "I've never even gotten /my/ hands on a fetish, how the fuck'm I gonna get one for /you/?" There's a short pause and she adds, "Whoever the hell you are."

Bernie has dealt with computers before. Not -negotiated-, unless you count 'work, damn you, *whack*,' but there's some experience there. Including programming the school library's macs to be quite talkative, at one point. Therefore, the confusion on her face is more likely to be caused by the terms than the voice...

"Unfortunate," the female voice drones. "But not unexpected. Do you have anything else of worth or are we going to have to resort to services, which are less desired?"

Kaz shrugs. "I can get talens. Two or three talens of different types, they can do you a lotta good. Other'n that, it ain't like I'm the richest person on earth. I could point you at a few folks who /are/ pretty rich, since you seem t'know alla this stuff anyway, but you've got /me/ on the phone and not them."

The voice says, after another pause, "Money is worthless to me. Services, items of power, or information."

Bernie is, of course, hearing this as "talons" and getting images of various animal claws. Good thing Kaz's the one handling it all.

Kaz says, "So. You don't actually want talens? Or would that work? They're certainly items of power, after all."

"They are of far less use than a fetish," the voice claims, as if it had experience in dealing with both. "And since your particular group is known for its lack of wealth, perhaps we will simply have to settle on a service."

"We don't do windows," Bernie murmurs softly, quietly enough, she hopes, for only Kaz to hear it, and grins, shifting her weight slightly to listen more comfortably.

Kaz shrugs equably. "Well, whatever, if you've got the experience to know you don't want talens that can, say, heal diseases, or get you invisible, or summon spirits, I won't try and argue you out of it. What sort of service we talking, here?"

If there were a person speaking, there'd likely be wry humor inflections in the speech. But there isn't. "Gratuitous acts of violence are your forte, are they not?"

Kaz is having to struggle to keep up with this voice, but she nods. "Well. Some of the time, yeah. You got something specific you want gratuitinized?" Now there's a word.

Bernie presses a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter. When she recovers, she points out, this time slightly louder than the other remark, but still intended for Kaz, "Technic'ly it's not gratuitous 'f it's parta an exchange..."

"A group of spirits has managed to interfere with some of my work," the female voice drones. "I've tracked them back to their lair and would like to be rid of them. Your kind specializes in these things, so it would save me time, effort, and energy if you took care of them."

Kaz blinks in interest. "Jesus, you're fulla s'prises. Ok, sure. What kinda spirits are they? I like knowin' this kinda stuff if I'm gonna kick its butt."

Yup, this is fairly fascinating. The cub goes back to listening silently.

"The kind both you and I consider to be 'bad.'" The female voice continues. "Judging by what I have observed in the past, you will probably need between eight and twelve of your kind to exterminate them from their lair with minimal casualties."

Kaz takes the phone away from her head and stares at it again. Shaking her head just slightly, she puts it back and says, "Eight to twelve? Jesus, what're you doin' that Wyrm shit's that intent into lookin' for you?" Shaking her head quickly, she says, "No, nevermind. When you want this done by?"

There's a pause before the woman's voice drones on again. "After you accomplish it, I will offer information and additional services. So you will need to accomplish this service as soon as you care to. However, I imagine you will prefer to do this as soon as possible, before the media attention grows much further." Whoever's on the other end apparently knows how to grasp certain dangly bits quite firmly.

Kaz says, "Oh, bu -- please. If you ain't even gonna give me a sample, what's the point?"

There's a lengthier pause, indicating a longer response is coming. "The bones are approximately 1,000 years old and are not exhibiting any unusual qualities, other than simply looking unusual. You will want to be exceptionally careful about doing anything in the spirit world, as there has been a good deal of activity on campus for nearly two years now and it is likely very dangerous for your kind. There are large claw marks evident on the ribs and vertabrae, probably from whatever killed it--possibly one of it's own kind considering the size of the claws. And, as I've mentioned, I know the names of some of the researchers involved, what kind of security the building has, where the bones are being kept--because they're not in the usual archaeology repository. I have floorplans for the entire structure. Also, the skull fragments are wolf-like while the pelvis is not. I've checked, and the bones are from the same animal. So it's not a mix-up with bones. Sufficient for a sample?"

There's a longish pause while Kaz chews her lip and glances at Bernie, evidently soliciting suggestions.

Bernie murmurs softly and carefully to Kaz, "...sounds like it kinda matches up with what Dr. Nicholson was sayin'... I mean, somea that we know, like I'm pretty sure we know mosta th' researchers an' we know mostly where it is, but not -'zactly-... I mean, doesn' sound like he's pullin' it oughta his ass, at least."

Kaz exhales a sigh. "Fuck. Just t'state the obvious, given the time pressure here, I'd rather get the rest of your information before we go whup butt, but if you ain't gonna do it the other way around, then ok. Where's this spirit infestation?"

The reply is pretty short. "Your kind has failed to keep its promises in the past, so now you'll have to trust me instead. They are in the sewers under the fountain at Osprey Circle in the historic district. There is an additional condition to my services, too."

Kaz's back suddenly tenses, at the mention of Osprey Circle. "There may be a problem. But what's your condition?"

"No Garou may set foot in the Oriental Regency on the north side of town. Leave it alone. Forever," says the female computer voice.

Bernie arches a brow, looking to Kaz. "Oriental Regency?" she queries softly.

Kaz shrugs. "I'll tell folks, but it ain't like I'm some high muckymuck. But I have a problem, which I'll explain in more detail than you might expect, so be patient for a sec while I babble, ok?"

The voice responds flatly. "Babble away."

Bernie pushes up on the balls of her feet, fidgeting slightly, and listens.

"Yeah. OK." Kaz takes a breath. "So if you know anything about us lately, you know we ain't the most organized folks on earth, specially with regards the sewers, which are a Pit of Despair and filled to the brim with Wyrm. We been doin' sporadic scoutin', but nothin' organized. That lack of organization, it's changing. We just had a meeting last night about it. We've /finally/ got a game plan and everything. /Part/ of the game plan involves avoiding Osprey Circle for awhile while we take back the rest of the sewers, one step at a time, because so far as we can tell, Osprey Circle's the center of all the shit, and we've almost gotten a bunch of people killed, trying to scout it. What we're going to do is start scouting out Harbor Park on Tuesday, find the places where we can set up ambushes, and start doing regular ambushes down there, so that we can slowly reclaim sections of sewer, hold them, and then continue on. Osprey Circle's going to happen later, because they're damn entrenched and we want to get a handle on things before we go into the lion's den." She shrugs. "You talked to me about this earlier, I coulda maybe persuaded people last night to dive in and risk their necks with this, but f'now, I'm one've the low folks on the totem pole, and I can't countermand plans and orders that've been made. Plus, it makes sense, to retake and hold. So I don't think I can help immediately with your problem. I wish I could." She sounds as if she honestly regrets it, and not just because of the loss of information. "Maybe you could take Harbor Park as a good faith effort?"

The female voice drones out, "Yes, I know about the spirits at Harbor Park. They are not the ones who annoyed me. The ones residing under Osprey Circle are the ones who interfered in my affairs."

Bernie bites her bottom lip lightly, and waits, watching Kaz.

Kaz says, patiently, "They're all connected, Oh Mysterious One. They have regular patrols and everything. I'm telling you, this is a semi-military society you're talking about here, and I can't countermand my superiors and just tell them to change their minds and go for something entirely different, not when I also think it's best /to/ start slowly, take back parts of the place, and get to the enemy's command center once we've blunted their strength. I'm tellin' you, this is going to be a long process, requiring patience. Either take Osprey Circle bein' lower down on the list, or we can change to trying to see if an information exchange'll work."

There's a lengthy pause before the voice returns. "So I would have to rely on your kind's word again, which has proved, in the past, repeatedly, to be untrustworthy. Rendering assistance prior to obtaining recompensation is no longer an option. Perhaps we should discuss talens, instead."

There's no bridling in Kaz's tone. "Well, yeah. Hopefully we're gettin' more of a brain these days, but I wouldn't count on it, personally. So..." She trails off, and says, tone turning slightly confused, "I thought you'd go with goods, services, /or/ information, but ok, if you don't want information anymore, then talens. I don't make 'em, I just get 'em from other folks, but I can talk to a sort of packmate of mine and get some. What do you want?"

The voice responds, "You have not yet offered any information of use to me."

Kaz shrugs. "So? I don't know what'd be of use to you. Expand."

There's a very, very lengthy pause this time. "I may, against my better judgement, take your word to eliminate the spirits under Osprey Circle and an additional, unnamed favor in the future. And to stay out of the Oriental Regency restaurant."

Kaz bites her lip. "I ain't much for favors-to-be-named-later, but as long as it don't betray the Sept and as long as it don't help the Wyrm, I'll cope. I think we gotta deal, yeah?"

"I'm equally unpleased with the settlement. If it is such a thing," the voice comments.

Kaz shrugs. "Have to live with the strictures of reality, I guess. I'd shake on it, but I'd just get a keyboard, an' that'd be painful."

The voice says, "I do expect the spirits currently lairing under Osprey Circle to be removed within this or the following month. Even if they move elsewhere once your attack begins. Agreed?"

Kaz exhales a sigh. "We can try. We don't exactly want the sewers to be boiling with atrocities either, so I'll put my back, and my pack's back, and the influence I have on the rest of this bunch, into getting it done as quickly as possible, yes."

The female voice also reminds, "And stay out of the Oriental Regency."

Kaz says, "Yeah, yeah, we got that covered already. I'll spread the word."

The voice says, "To contact me, draw an 'X' on the postbox at the corner to the west of the police station. I should respond within two days."

Kaz says, "Ok, wait, so I'm feeling dense today. We're doin' all this stuff, you're takin' our word for it, which is cool and all, and you're gonna get us the info -- later? Once we put our big ol' X on a mailbox, what're you gonna do, call us again, or what?"

Bernie softly says, "...yeah, we really oughta try define th' -other- enda this too, I'd think..."

The female computer voice responds, "Yes."

Kaz says, "Huh. Why you gonna wait? I mean, can't you do this all now, or d'you gotta program y'r vocoder doohickey t'talk faster, or somethin'?"

"What do you wish to know?" the voice inquires.

Kaz says, calmly, "Names of people on the project, who they are, location've the bones, security details, um--" She casts a glance at Bernie.

Over the phone, it says, "None of these people will be harmed?"

Bernie murmurs, "Let it know the plan has been to deal with this as subtly as possible? Last thing we want is tabloids reportin' Revenge of Bigfoot."

Kaz says, "Yeah, we ain't plannin' on killin' people." A little ruefully, "Contrary to our usual mode of operation, I guess. But," she adds, sobering, "This is a sticky situation. These guys aren't Wyrm an' they mean well, an' I, at least, am /so/ not into murdering people for shits and giggles. An' aside from the moral issues, killin' 'em'd just put more media on our tail."

"You'll look for ways to save them if they are under a spirit's influence?" the voice inquires.

Kaz puts her free hand on the back of her neck. This is, evidently, not an approach that had occurred to her. "Yeah."

"Gillian, Ling, and Professor Mark Clark are currently doing work on the bones. The first two are graduate students," the voice says, also supplying last names.

Kaz gestures in a 'I need a pencil' sort of way at Bernie and nods into the phone. Realizing that's not much use, she adds, "OK. Clark's the head honcho? What's his usual focus?"

The voice says, "That can be looked up easily enough."

Bernie unzips her backpack, whipping out a pen and passing it over to Kaz. As an afterthought, a scrap of paper, too.

Kaz looks amused. "Suppose so. But he ain't a supernatural sniffer by nature or anything?"

It says, "Not that I noticed. I could recheck for oddities and get back to you on that."

Kaz writes down the names by dint of leaning on Bernie's back to do it. "Awright. Cool. You asked about spirits -- does that mean they /got/ problems with spirits?"

It replies, "There has been a large influx on the campus over the past year or two."

"This connected to the plant exploding?" Never one to shut up, Kaz also adds, "What I meant was, are any of the folks workin' with the /bones/ possessed?"

Bernie leans forward a little, helpfully doing her best impression of a table. Well, best she can do while still trying to listen to both sides of the conversation, at least.

It responds with, "I did not notice any signs of possession. What kind of exploding plant are you speaking of?"

Kaz removes most of herself from Bernie's back. "Power plant. Place exploded just before I got here, I thought that was why most of the bane influence in the city'd gone up. Or is SCCU's problem not just Wyrm?" Shaking her head, she adds, "Sorry, off topic. So to speak. So what's up with security, an' where is it exactly?"

Bernie murmurs, "He said he had floor plans, all 'at shit. See if he'll send that stuff t' us. Be easier'n tryin' t' do it by memory an' all. Hell, he knows where t' find us, so it shouldn't be too hard..."

It says over the phone, "It's in the basement of the museum on campus and not in the archaeology repository in the basement of the library. Standard security you would expect. Alarm systems, video cameras, locks, and armed guards. Security is probably a little tighter than usual because of the recent theft of a rare book from the library."

Kaz asks, "Any chance you got a floor plan of all this," while making an 'ok' symbol at Bernie with her free hand.

It says over the phone, "I can tell you where you can find one, then tell you where the room is."

Kaz says, "Huh. Well. Ok. Where d'we find one?"

It says, "The physical plant on campus. They have plans to all the buildings."

Kaz rolls her eyes. "OK, I'll go rummage there later. So where's the room?"

"Once you have the map, I'll point out which room it is in. It's in the basement," the voice states.

Kaz shrugs. "'Kay. Works. OK," she adds, mostly to herself, but questioning Bernie with her eyes, "You said you could give us info on security systems, which I guess you kinda have. You said you could give us info on who's doin' the project an' where the bones are. I give you points on that one. Anything else you think might be useful?"

Bernie racks her brain, brow furrowed as she tries to think of things to ask. Her eyes widen suddenly. "Here's one," she murmurs, "ask what -exactly- he -did- t' th' stuff there. He said he messed with it, t' buy us some time. Wha'd he do t' it?"

The voice suggests, "You might consider arranging for frequent false alarms several days in advance before you decide to break in to throw security off. I can handle the video cameras easily enough, but you'll have to coordinate with me."

The metis does a subtle sort of double take. "You'd be willin' t'help? Wh--" She breaks off. "Nevermind, don' needa know the whys. Cool. I'll make sure t'coordinate with the folks in charge of it. So, one more question here -- what kinda stuff'd you do t'the stuff there? You said you messed with it somehow?"

Bernie's eyebrows migrate slightly upward, at that, and she nods. "Good thought, 'long as we did it enough t' get 'em blase, and not only enough t' get 'em puttin' more guards 'round... an' th' cam'ras thing, tha's cool..." she says softly. Poor Kaz, stuck in two conversations at once. At least they're related.

The voice states, "The agreement was for assistance. I encouraged the bones to get mixed up. They'll probably waste some time trying to find out where they went to."

Kaz thinks back. "Oh. So it was. So if you can move bones around and stuff, why can't you just, like, drop bear DNA in there and make 'em think the skeleton's actually a bear's? Last I heard, they thought it might either be wolf or snub nosed bear. But, actually, I guess, from what you say, they've gone further than that?"

The voice states, "They have multiple plaster casts, too. Substituting DNA would probably be more difficult than altering their test results."

Kaz follows that up curiously. "Could you alter the test results?"

It says, "I could damage their equipment. But they could always get more, or send it elsewhere for testing."

Kaz sighs. "Yeah, ok, so we're still relying on techy types to get the results changed. 'Kay. Works. You have any other ideas on ways you might be helpful? An', dammit, ok, I'm curious. You din' even have t'call us -- why did you, anyways?"

"Call you?" It says.

Kaz says "Yeah. Call, volunteer to help, whatever. Ok, sure, we're doin' you a favor, too, an' you're gettin' th' best of the bargain, I think, but you coulda just ignored the whole problem."

There's a simple response to this. "Yes."

Kaz says "So why didn't you?"

"Because," It responds. Then It continues. "Let me know what plans you have, when you have them, and I can better alert you to what assistance I can give."

Kaz says, rhetorically, "Because why?" but she obviously doesn't expect an answer at this point. "Yeah. Ok. You can't think of anything else that'd be helpful, other than the camera thing, and what you've already done? For which, by the way, I gotta say, you rock, and thanks."

It says, over the phone line, "You're welcome. Just remember to uphold your part of the bargin. And don't attempt to track me. I'll know, you'll find nothing, and you'll never hear from me again." Such a trusting soul.

"Don' worry, I'll 'member." At the mage's warning, a grin rises on her face, one that is perhaps audible in her voice. "Hey, I don' got any abilities like that anyways. In case you're curious, except for sensin' magic, which is a thing most of us can't do, any've th' trackin' abilities basically require a name. You're goin' a lot beyond what you need to, with this vocoder computer stuff. But you must be havin' fun, otherwise you'd do it more efficiently, I guess."

The voice responds, without the aid of humor because of the computer voice, "It was more efficient than a burning bush."

Bernie giggles anyway. "But less aesthetically pleasing, and you can't roast marshmallows over it..."

Despite the lack of humor in its voice, Kaz snorts in amusement. "Yeah, boss. You betcha. Anyways, X'll mark the spot, an' all." She glances at Bernie. "I can't think of anything more...?" Her voice hangs thre for a moment.

Bernie thinks, and shakes her head. "Nothin' immediately leaps t' mind..."

Kaz finishes, "So thanks, again."

It says, "Best of luck, then. Goodbye." The phone goes dead.

Kaz again stares at the phone in her hand. "Wha th' fuck. I'm amazed."

Bernie grins, and nods. "That was pretty cool, act'ly. I feel all Mission Impossible. Not that it's impossible, or anythin', but, y'know."

Kaz hangs it up, carefully. "Well, what with explodin' messages an' all, I don' blame you." She cracks her knuckles. "You wanna come with, while I go look for Leda?"

Bernie stretches a bit, and nods. "Yeah, a'ight. Sounds likea plan."