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xp_logsDoug and Jubilee visit the U-Camp to set up the data tap.
Doug leaned over the handlebars of his playa bike and took in the absurdly pristine white RV that was the centerpiece of the 'U-Camp'. A cluster of sterile-looking 'medical yurts' were all connected to what Doug had a five-dollar bet with himself was probably unironically referred to as 'the U-mobile'. "So how much anchoring do you think they had to do for those things given the wind around here?" he asked Jubilee idly, looking for all the world like a pair of burners people-watching and looking at all of the camps in the area. "For that matter, how many people do you think he has polishing that RV? Ego like this guy's, I'm surprised it doesn't project his head all Megamind-style at night." He lowered his voice so it wouldn't carry beyond the two of them. "All right, this time around we just need to plant a data tap, get in and out without being seen. No crawl spaces for you to get absurdly bendy in, so what do you think?" Posing as patients was almost certainly out, then there would be records of them in some capacity, even if they used other identities.
"Mega-mind had more class," Jubilee noted idly as she rested on foot on a pedal in an almost indolent manner. Burning Man was very much her type of place, given everything. Vegas was too in its own way but she'd wanted to spend longer traveling and frankly, Vegas was something she'd already done many times and had both good and bad memories to match. A place like this was cleaner, something she could do without picturing herself as a teenager trying to make people love her, or at least acknowledge she had value.
"They won't be using the main Gerlach 'PlayaNet' network, not secure enough for being a shady bastard. That means they're gonna have their own trucks with satellite, we just have to get close enough to one of them to splice one of your little listeners in and we're good to go. I could probably distract whoever is guarding their network equipment if you think you can work it fast, most of these guys are five minutes tops and that's if I'm not bringing my A game."
"Oh, my god." Doug was used to Jubilee's tendency to overcomplicate things, but sometimes it could get a little exhausting even after long experience. "The point is -not- to be memorable, and those shorts are definitely going to be memorable if you start chatting guys up." Calling them shorts was generous, barely more than a scrap of denim covering only a smidge more than bikini bottoms would have. Granted, if anyone could make those work it was Jubes, and she definitely did. But Doug knew how your average bro would react to an athletic hottie in something that flattering.
Jubilee shrugged and pushed against the pedal of her playa bike, moving it slowly past the majority of the 'U-camp' as she looked for a good spot to 'disappear' and let them sneak around. It didn't take her long to find one, temporary places like these always had blind spots. There just wasn't enough people, time, or space to truly eliminate them, especially not when you were a bad guy who didn't particularly care about your workforce. It was the villains that actually provided things like Dental that you had to look out for.
She gestured behind her back to Doug, using the short-hand gestures they'd all worked on over several rainy nights. Everyone had their own additions over the years but it was mostly a cohesive language by now, although she was sure it gave Doug a headache when anyone added to it.
~Found a spot. You keep going. I'll turn off here. Meet me 'round back. Compare notes.~
Doug's acknowledgment was little more than a flick of the fingers on his handlebar, but it was designed to be simple and forgettable like that. He peeled off at the spot.
****
Jubilee hummed quietly to herself as she kept an eye out while Doug split wires and worked on installing their 'little friends', otherwise known as small compact listening tech that would look like standard ethernet cable unless you looked extremely closely. It helped that they had access to Frost Enterprises to make some of these things, and industrial-strength 3D printers at the mansion for things that were just a little too covert to trust anyone outside their family for. Two people could keep a secret if one was dead, and all that jazz.
It hadn't taken them long to find the private satellite truck buried amongst the various modules that made up the U-Camp tent city. It hadn't even been trying to hide, and frankly, the sheer amount of gear and people around this place just made their job that much easier. If she wasn't ridiculously happy at the universe for giving them all the luck in this particular instance, she'd have been suspicious at just how right things were going. She was sure it would bite them in the ass at some stage, or possibly the other group wasn't having quite as much luck.
"Like, we've probably got about ten to fifteen more minutes if the guy is takin' a shit. But I totes think I heard him talkin' to one of the others while I was waiting about grabbing some coffee, so maybe a little more. How long you think you're gonna need for this?"
"It'd be less if you stopped hovering over my shoulder like a middle manager with a TPS report that needs a cover page," Doug bickered back at Jubilee. There was no heat in it - back and forth between them was second nature by this point after time spent dating and working with her. It was just how they operated. "But by all means, keep me updated on the quality of the guard's number two."
"Oh Dougie, how you wound my precious baby ears with your harsh words," Jubilee quipped back, but she backed off slightly to give him more room, her body angled to keep an eye on their surroundings without looking like anything more than a PO sneaking off to sneak a vape break. She held said device to her lips and took a puff, leaning her head back to breathe out blackberry-scented smoke in small expertly crafted rings. "They don't take me as people who get much fiber, so I'm expecting some definite straining going on right now."
Doug snorted at the vape. "That thing makes you look maximum douchey, like you should be a white dude with a bun saying 'namaste' to everyone or something." A few more adjustments and he leaned back. "All right, the tap is in, let's make scarce."
Amanda, Sarah and Artie work the crowds and gather info on the “health clinic” van while getting in the way of anyone going in.
Amanda glanced at her two teammates as they slowly strolled towards the busy central area of the camp, the white roof of the U-Medical van visible above the milling crowds. The older witch had gotten scruffier over the past day or two and fitted in perfectly with the older hippie types - tie dye cotton pants, Union Jack t-shirt and sandals, with her hair lank and greasy in the "white folk locs" style. "So, here's the deal. Scope out the van and the comings and goings, and do what you can to steer people away, without actually looking like we're doing that. All good?" She'd signed the words as she'd spoken, for Artie's cover.
Sarah, who had somehow acquired a lightweight cardigan to wear over her crop top due to all the extra places she had for sand to get into, nodded and took a calculated step backwards in the crowd, nearly toppling over a group passing by. "Oh, I am so sorry! It's my first burn and..." She disappeared into the crowd, still talking.
Artie nodded. Like the others, he was dressed to fit in - ragged cut off cargo shorts, desert boots and an open shirt. He had a gaiter around his neck if the dust got worse. He turned to face Amanda and smiled. His shirt flapped in the everpresent wind. "Do you want a dust storm or street art," he signed. The projections that sent clouds of dust billowing into the air were difficult but here, where the air was already heavy with dust, it would take very little to increase the effect. The street art - lights that moved and rotated on their own - was simple enough that he could maintain it without much effort, from a distance.
"Go with the street art - there's enough dust around for now and we can keep that in our back pockets, yeah?" Amanda gestured to the bandanna tied around her own neck for dust issues. "I can toss George in if you need a boost - I've got enough juice for that." She snapped her fingers and the werelight appeared, glowing with mellow tones of green and gold and blue.
"Please." Artie took George from her, sending the werelight spinning into the air, joining it with a pair of lights that he generated himself and smiled.
***
This was what he excelled at. Stepping away from Amanda, he moved into the crowd, lights flickering overhead and around and through the crowd, finally falling into fractal patterns that he raised first 5, then 7 and finally 12 feet into the air before crashing down. They dissolved into the dust as they hit the ground. He was achieving his goal, though - attention shifted toward him and Artie began to walk, drawing a section of the crowd away from the clinic as he went. Using his powers so publicly - in a way that was connected to him, no less - was exhilarating. He sent streams of light down, across the ground and up, wreathing individual people in outlines that moved with them before vanishing.
When he eventually tired of this and the crowd started to get bored, he stopped and was caught up in a series of conversations. After a moment or two, he gave up on signing, settling for mime and writing key words in the dust, able to watch the comings and goings at the clinic from where he sat.
***
"Does it hurt?"
Sarah held up an arm, the sleeve of her sweater folded up to show the patches of bone growing along her fingers to her wrist and up to the point of her elbow before disappearing below the sweater. "These? It did at first. But then I got used to it."
The guy she was talking to nodded as if he had any inkling of what it felt like to have bone tearing through your skin. "It's like walking around barefoot, right? At first you're tender and then your brain starts to forget how much it hurts when you step on gravel the wrong way. Or like legos!" He turned around and called out, "Hey Josh, you've got to see this!"
First it was Josh, and then their buddy Sasha, and her girlfriend Leigh, and their campmate Stephen and every time someone new showed up Sarah adjusted her position so the group found itself directly in front of the clinic. Anyone stopping by out of curiosity would have to move through them, and Sarah suspected most people at Burning Man had better things to do than wait in line or fight what looked like a crowd. She looked at the group and smiled like she had known them all her life. "So tell me the story behind that sleeve. I love tattoo stories."
***
"You got a light, luv?" Amanda's accent was broader than it had been for a while and she flashed a grateful smile at the older dreadlocked man who pulled out a lighter for the joint in her hand.
"You're not from here, are you, darlin'?" he asked, taking a drag on his own joint with obvious enjoyment.
"Who is?" she replied with a chuckle. "But no, I'm from England. Heard about this whole thing from a mate at Glastonbury, had to join in."
"Oh, the Burn is a totally different beast to your English festivals," chimed in another stoner, this one wearing a Phish T-shirt. "Used to be more about the vibe, you know? These days it's more performance art and sex. Not that we didn't have plenty of that in our day." He laughed far too loudly and Amanda joined in.
"And what's with this thing?" she asked, nodding towards the U-Health van. "A bit fancy for this sort of thing, isn't it?"
Stoner #1 snorted. "Another vulture circling the skies, man. Say they're here to help, but there's always a price."
"Price, eh? Tell me about it..."
***
Later, back at the RV, Artie pulled the fourth tarpaulin wall closed around their camp site to cut the everpresent wind and dust down to a minimum and took a deep drink of water. When he had a moment, he'd wash his face, as the combination of sunscreen and alkaline dust left every exposed inch of skin feeling gritty.
He lit the propane stove and put the camp kettle on to boil - god he needed a coffee - while they debriefed and then, finally ready to talk, sat down and looked over at Amanda and Sarah. "There were a lot of people coming and going but did you notice that the ones who weren't interested in the clinic didn't even really notice it?" In deference to Sarah, his signing was slower, more visual than it might have been for someone more fluent - the clinic established in space and the people who came and went shown on his fingers while he gazed carefully away from the clinic space, gesture and eyes indicating that most of the passers by looked anywhere but there.
Amanda finished her bottle of water and nodded. "It's like folks don't want to think about things like needing health care at something like this... until they actually need it, and then they're all over it. Which makes our job a little bit easier. I s'pose you need money to get tickets here in the first place, which means they get a better baseline in terms of healthy subjects goes. Less homeless, more artists and yuppies trying to be interesting."
Sarah shrugged, grateful to have a moment of peace even if it was only because of a makeshift tent. "The kind of people I'm meeting already have their favorite new age woo routine. They don't want some guy in a suit trying to sell them better living through weird chemistry. And so they fall back on the tried and true method of not engaging with people in public. They don't make eye contact."
"Or they're more about appearances than praxis." Artie shrugged. "I found the same. I'm exclusively using sign out there and that means that most people won't talk to me. It's business as usual but half of them are coming down on ket."
"The old guard really don't like them, either," Amanda supplied. "One part, 'this isn't the way we did things' and one part 'something fishy is going on'. Those old stoners see more than people realise." The witch was rummaging through the snack stores, until she found a large bag of chips and started mowing her way through. Undercover with the stoners meant a massive case of the munchies, even if she could keep her head straight. Mostly. "Bad news for us, the staff stick to the clinic. We'll have to use a distraction to get them away long enough. I mean, we could just rush the place in the middle of the night, but that's just a little bit too obvious."
Sarah nodded, and slowly sipped from her water bottle. "We've already had one successful distraction here. I feel like distractions are our specialty, even without the bonus distractability of Burning Man attendees."
"Distraction on one side of camp while we rush it on the other?" Artie asked.
Amanda looked up from where she was licking crumbs from the inside of the chip bag. "Sounds like a plan."
Doug leaned over the handlebars of his playa bike and took in the absurdly pristine white RV that was the centerpiece of the 'U-Camp'. A cluster of sterile-looking 'medical yurts' were all connected to what Doug had a five-dollar bet with himself was probably unironically referred to as 'the U-mobile'. "So how much anchoring do you think they had to do for those things given the wind around here?" he asked Jubilee idly, looking for all the world like a pair of burners people-watching and looking at all of the camps in the area. "For that matter, how many people do you think he has polishing that RV? Ego like this guy's, I'm surprised it doesn't project his head all Megamind-style at night." He lowered his voice so it wouldn't carry beyond the two of them. "All right, this time around we just need to plant a data tap, get in and out without being seen. No crawl spaces for you to get absurdly bendy in, so what do you think?" Posing as patients was almost certainly out, then there would be records of them in some capacity, even if they used other identities.
"Mega-mind had more class," Jubilee noted idly as she rested on foot on a pedal in an almost indolent manner. Burning Man was very much her type of place, given everything. Vegas was too in its own way but she'd wanted to spend longer traveling and frankly, Vegas was something she'd already done many times and had both good and bad memories to match. A place like this was cleaner, something she could do without picturing herself as a teenager trying to make people love her, or at least acknowledge she had value.
"They won't be using the main Gerlach 'PlayaNet' network, not secure enough for being a shady bastard. That means they're gonna have their own trucks with satellite, we just have to get close enough to one of them to splice one of your little listeners in and we're good to go. I could probably distract whoever is guarding their network equipment if you think you can work it fast, most of these guys are five minutes tops and that's if I'm not bringing my A game."
"Oh, my god." Doug was used to Jubilee's tendency to overcomplicate things, but sometimes it could get a little exhausting even after long experience. "The point is -not- to be memorable, and those shorts are definitely going to be memorable if you start chatting guys up." Calling them shorts was generous, barely more than a scrap of denim covering only a smidge more than bikini bottoms would have. Granted, if anyone could make those work it was Jubes, and she definitely did. But Doug knew how your average bro would react to an athletic hottie in something that flattering.
Jubilee shrugged and pushed against the pedal of her playa bike, moving it slowly past the majority of the 'U-camp' as she looked for a good spot to 'disappear' and let them sneak around. It didn't take her long to find one, temporary places like these always had blind spots. There just wasn't enough people, time, or space to truly eliminate them, especially not when you were a bad guy who didn't particularly care about your workforce. It was the villains that actually provided things like Dental that you had to look out for.
She gestured behind her back to Doug, using the short-hand gestures they'd all worked on over several rainy nights. Everyone had their own additions over the years but it was mostly a cohesive language by now, although she was sure it gave Doug a headache when anyone added to it.
~Found a spot. You keep going. I'll turn off here. Meet me 'round back. Compare notes.~
Doug's acknowledgment was little more than a flick of the fingers on his handlebar, but it was designed to be simple and forgettable like that. He peeled off at the spot.
****
Jubilee hummed quietly to herself as she kept an eye out while Doug split wires and worked on installing their 'little friends', otherwise known as small compact listening tech that would look like standard ethernet cable unless you looked extremely closely. It helped that they had access to Frost Enterprises to make some of these things, and industrial-strength 3D printers at the mansion for things that were just a little too covert to trust anyone outside their family for. Two people could keep a secret if one was dead, and all that jazz.
It hadn't taken them long to find the private satellite truck buried amongst the various modules that made up the U-Camp tent city. It hadn't even been trying to hide, and frankly, the sheer amount of gear and people around this place just made their job that much easier. If she wasn't ridiculously happy at the universe for giving them all the luck in this particular instance, she'd have been suspicious at just how right things were going. She was sure it would bite them in the ass at some stage, or possibly the other group wasn't having quite as much luck.
"Like, we've probably got about ten to fifteen more minutes if the guy is takin' a shit. But I totes think I heard him talkin' to one of the others while I was waiting about grabbing some coffee, so maybe a little more. How long you think you're gonna need for this?"
"It'd be less if you stopped hovering over my shoulder like a middle manager with a TPS report that needs a cover page," Doug bickered back at Jubilee. There was no heat in it - back and forth between them was second nature by this point after time spent dating and working with her. It was just how they operated. "But by all means, keep me updated on the quality of the guard's number two."
"Oh Dougie, how you wound my precious baby ears with your harsh words," Jubilee quipped back, but she backed off slightly to give him more room, her body angled to keep an eye on their surroundings without looking like anything more than a PO sneaking off to sneak a vape break. She held said device to her lips and took a puff, leaning her head back to breathe out blackberry-scented smoke in small expertly crafted rings. "They don't take me as people who get much fiber, so I'm expecting some definite straining going on right now."
Doug snorted at the vape. "That thing makes you look maximum douchey, like you should be a white dude with a bun saying 'namaste' to everyone or something." A few more adjustments and he leaned back. "All right, the tap is in, let's make scarce."
Amanda, Sarah and Artie work the crowds and gather info on the “health clinic” van while getting in the way of anyone going in.
Amanda glanced at her two teammates as they slowly strolled towards the busy central area of the camp, the white roof of the U-Medical van visible above the milling crowds. The older witch had gotten scruffier over the past day or two and fitted in perfectly with the older hippie types - tie dye cotton pants, Union Jack t-shirt and sandals, with her hair lank and greasy in the "white folk locs" style. "So, here's the deal. Scope out the van and the comings and goings, and do what you can to steer people away, without actually looking like we're doing that. All good?" She'd signed the words as she'd spoken, for Artie's cover.
Sarah, who had somehow acquired a lightweight cardigan to wear over her crop top due to all the extra places she had for sand to get into, nodded and took a calculated step backwards in the crowd, nearly toppling over a group passing by. "Oh, I am so sorry! It's my first burn and..." She disappeared into the crowd, still talking.
Artie nodded. Like the others, he was dressed to fit in - ragged cut off cargo shorts, desert boots and an open shirt. He had a gaiter around his neck if the dust got worse. He turned to face Amanda and smiled. His shirt flapped in the everpresent wind. "Do you want a dust storm or street art," he signed. The projections that sent clouds of dust billowing into the air were difficult but here, where the air was already heavy with dust, it would take very little to increase the effect. The street art - lights that moved and rotated on their own - was simple enough that he could maintain it without much effort, from a distance.
"Go with the street art - there's enough dust around for now and we can keep that in our back pockets, yeah?" Amanda gestured to the bandanna tied around her own neck for dust issues. "I can toss George in if you need a boost - I've got enough juice for that." She snapped her fingers and the werelight appeared, glowing with mellow tones of green and gold and blue.
"Please." Artie took George from her, sending the werelight spinning into the air, joining it with a pair of lights that he generated himself and smiled.
***
This was what he excelled at. Stepping away from Amanda, he moved into the crowd, lights flickering overhead and around and through the crowd, finally falling into fractal patterns that he raised first 5, then 7 and finally 12 feet into the air before crashing down. They dissolved into the dust as they hit the ground. He was achieving his goal, though - attention shifted toward him and Artie began to walk, drawing a section of the crowd away from the clinic as he went. Using his powers so publicly - in a way that was connected to him, no less - was exhilarating. He sent streams of light down, across the ground and up, wreathing individual people in outlines that moved with them before vanishing.
When he eventually tired of this and the crowd started to get bored, he stopped and was caught up in a series of conversations. After a moment or two, he gave up on signing, settling for mime and writing key words in the dust, able to watch the comings and goings at the clinic from where he sat.
***
"Does it hurt?"
Sarah held up an arm, the sleeve of her sweater folded up to show the patches of bone growing along her fingers to her wrist and up to the point of her elbow before disappearing below the sweater. "These? It did at first. But then I got used to it."
The guy she was talking to nodded as if he had any inkling of what it felt like to have bone tearing through your skin. "It's like walking around barefoot, right? At first you're tender and then your brain starts to forget how much it hurts when you step on gravel the wrong way. Or like legos!" He turned around and called out, "Hey Josh, you've got to see this!"
First it was Josh, and then their buddy Sasha, and her girlfriend Leigh, and their campmate Stephen and every time someone new showed up Sarah adjusted her position so the group found itself directly in front of the clinic. Anyone stopping by out of curiosity would have to move through them, and Sarah suspected most people at Burning Man had better things to do than wait in line or fight what looked like a crowd. She looked at the group and smiled like she had known them all her life. "So tell me the story behind that sleeve. I love tattoo stories."
***
"You got a light, luv?" Amanda's accent was broader than it had been for a while and she flashed a grateful smile at the older dreadlocked man who pulled out a lighter for the joint in her hand.
"You're not from here, are you, darlin'?" he asked, taking a drag on his own joint with obvious enjoyment.
"Who is?" she replied with a chuckle. "But no, I'm from England. Heard about this whole thing from a mate at Glastonbury, had to join in."
"Oh, the Burn is a totally different beast to your English festivals," chimed in another stoner, this one wearing a Phish T-shirt. "Used to be more about the vibe, you know? These days it's more performance art and sex. Not that we didn't have plenty of that in our day." He laughed far too loudly and Amanda joined in.
"And what's with this thing?" she asked, nodding towards the U-Health van. "A bit fancy for this sort of thing, isn't it?"
Stoner #1 snorted. "Another vulture circling the skies, man. Say they're here to help, but there's always a price."
"Price, eh? Tell me about it..."
***
Later, back at the RV, Artie pulled the fourth tarpaulin wall closed around their camp site to cut the everpresent wind and dust down to a minimum and took a deep drink of water. When he had a moment, he'd wash his face, as the combination of sunscreen and alkaline dust left every exposed inch of skin feeling gritty.
He lit the propane stove and put the camp kettle on to boil - god he needed a coffee - while they debriefed and then, finally ready to talk, sat down and looked over at Amanda and Sarah. "There were a lot of people coming and going but did you notice that the ones who weren't interested in the clinic didn't even really notice it?" In deference to Sarah, his signing was slower, more visual than it might have been for someone more fluent - the clinic established in space and the people who came and went shown on his fingers while he gazed carefully away from the clinic space, gesture and eyes indicating that most of the passers by looked anywhere but there.
Amanda finished her bottle of water and nodded. "It's like folks don't want to think about things like needing health care at something like this... until they actually need it, and then they're all over it. Which makes our job a little bit easier. I s'pose you need money to get tickets here in the first place, which means they get a better baseline in terms of healthy subjects goes. Less homeless, more artists and yuppies trying to be interesting."
Sarah shrugged, grateful to have a moment of peace even if it was only because of a makeshift tent. "The kind of people I'm meeting already have their favorite new age woo routine. They don't want some guy in a suit trying to sell them better living through weird chemistry. And so they fall back on the tried and true method of not engaging with people in public. They don't make eye contact."
"Or they're more about appearances than praxis." Artie shrugged. "I found the same. I'm exclusively using sign out there and that means that most people won't talk to me. It's business as usual but half of them are coming down on ket."
"The old guard really don't like them, either," Amanda supplied. "One part, 'this isn't the way we did things' and one part 'something fishy is going on'. Those old stoners see more than people realise." The witch was rummaging through the snack stores, until she found a large bag of chips and started mowing her way through. Undercover with the stoners meant a massive case of the munchies, even if she could keep her head straight. Mostly. "Bad news for us, the staff stick to the clinic. We'll have to use a distraction to get them away long enough. I mean, we could just rush the place in the middle of the night, but that's just a little bit too obvious."
Sarah nodded, and slowly sipped from her water bottle. "We've already had one successful distraction here. I feel like distractions are our specialty, even without the bonus distractability of Burning Man attendees."
"Distraction on one side of camp while we rush it on the other?" Artie asked.
Amanda looked up from where she was licking crumbs from the inside of the chip bag. "Sounds like a plan."
