Blue IX The Scarlet Pope Agent Parraline 5750.
Huddling in a corner halfway down the alley is a pack of mutantmen addicted to the venom of the Blue space scorpion. They are taking turns letting it sting them; it leaves terrible toxick welts upon their bones. One of them is in a tattered overcoat with a blue & silver jersey baring the number 9 on it - seems this one is really enjoying himself with a sinister and twisted grin smeared across his drooling face, half-obscured by a dingy hat. It was painfully apparent he was running missions in the part of the Colonial Cities that had degraded to scrapyards by this point. He must secure the dead lady in the transport cargo and get back to the labs. Weird low cultural archetype worshiped as the inevitable cold, clingy embrace of fatality we all someday meet. Oddly adorned figurine, serpentine and Saturnine. The natives of the outlands must know terrible and savage daemons. Minus well be partying on Garbage Island out here sometimes. The kindly old shop keeps takes extra care with the Death figure. "He almost got away" they say in the distance. Do they know he's on assignment? This mission is easy but the terrain is tricky. Lots of traffic, some "everyday-looking" fellow snapping off photos of a lady on the street to perv out on later. Smiles his twisted, retarded grin. "You look like you've got nothing at all on your mind." A trigger phrase - a psionic attack of words to erase vital databanks. Transparent maneuver. A man in brown hat fondles fruits on the nearby street corner. We don't have contacts in these regions. No one worth trusting out here in such a lawless region. They can't be integrated into the threefold agent compartmentalization model properly. They see a chance to betray you and they take it, proceeding to sell your skin, eyes, organs, bones and whatever other unseemly liquids or tidbits you may carry to the highest bidder. This doesn't mean agents, either contracting for Zaibatsus with mutual interest or gone freelance-Zero, halt their communication with high frequency, encrypted resonant-information exchanges:
broken stone i halt a disaster or death in its ingenuity of the war's front moves deliberately nowhere longlegged about to blow not through ix impeccable tonight are the means already are thought to hear some of these agents, at war with a single eye strays alice, delores, shirley, a blinking, files of gold or whatever it is control over hundreds of different mach 5, air would not weave for them to bear for example?who carry on the way westward, what other and, with captive demons hold, sprang dripping, and, with captive and dismember the captive baroness. You have hid her among fruits of jewel-stone.
