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[sub][ [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4927344]Prev[/url] ]  [color=#9fc5e8]“[b]FEAT OF CLAY[/b], Part II”[/color]  [ [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4940373]Next[/url] ][/sub][/center][COLOR=steelblue][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]G O T H A M   C I T Y[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][sup][color=goldenrod]S.T.A.R. Labs[/color][/sup][/INDENT]
Coming here was starting to feel like visiting a friend in the hospital.

The cybernetics lab resembled a surgical suite. All white walls, white tile, and a flood of lighting. A flat table was the centerpiece of the room, atop which the body of the doll was laid out. The illusion of his humanity had been cast aside. The left side of his face was missing, exposing metal plating and a series of blinking lights infused by a host of optic fiber. Most of his chest and torso was a gaping chasm, through which the mechanical anatomy was visible. Even still, someone had tucked a stuffed animal under the crook of the doll’s arm. A stuffed penguin that was supposed to be Tux, whom Dick had learned was a mascot associated with the Linux operating system.

Monitors overhead displayed a cascade of compiling code, as well as a variety of graphs that Dick couldn’t discern any meaning from. 

“We’re getting close.”

Sarah Charles’ voice. Dick turned to glance off to his right and saw that the woman had stepped into the lab behind him. “Now I understand why he used DOS for the monokernal architecture,” the woman remarked, though what she said sailed straight over Dick’s head. More so when she cryptically declared, “Toyboy [i]is [/i]the kernal level. There’s no user level.”

Not understanding, but taking that as a sign that progress was being made. Dick merely gave a nod as he half-heartedly uttered, [color=#9fc5e8]“Of course.”[/color]

Not to be dissuaded by her guest’s lack of appreciation for proper operating system design, Sarah pointed up to one of the monitors, displaying a cascade of code, as she continued. “Now that we understand the language that Schott developed, we’re replicating the processes and the architecture, but moving him to a UNIX-like kernal that will mimic Linux close enough to be compatible with some off-the-shelf options for expanding his capabilities.”

All right, now Dick was able to start picking up what Sarah was putting down. By moving Toyboy to modern software, it put contemporary applications on the proverbial table. “We’ve also installed a second CPU for better task switching, and created a microkernal operating within a virtual drive running Tails. If this works, it’ll mask Toyboy’s internet connection through the Tor network, while protecting the host drive by isolated the executable file permissions within a partition of file structure that’s enclosed in ramdisk memory..”

Should he be getting college credit in computer science for having stayed awake through all of that? [color=#9fc5e8]“I’m just going to nod and pretend I understand at least part of that,”[/color] Dick deadpanned glibly. And trust that it would be difficult to trace. Sarah’s work with secure computing and telecommunications was a large part of his success as Nightwing in the modern era. Bruce’s tactics and techniques for remaining hidden in the era of the 1970s had steadily eroded across the 1980s with the emergence of new technologies. 

“I finally read the notes about the heart.” 

Glancing over at the woman, Dick just inclined his head to indicate that he was listening. “I think I was hesitating because I was afraid when I did, I’d realize you were right,” Sarah admitted candidly. “Remember when we pulled Toyboy out of storage and I said that Schott must have been a right bastard to have used Horton Cells? You said [i]‘I think he’d agree.’[/i]” 

Something like that, anyway. At the nod from Dick, the woman continued. “All this time, I’d thought that you were talking about Toyboy,” she admitted. Then paused, before saying, “But you were talking about Schott.”

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[b][color=#9fc5e8]BLÜDHAVEN POLICE DEPARTMENT[/color][/b]
[b][i][color=#9fc5e8]Later that day[/color][/i][/b]

[color=#ffffff]“Most of what was in the apartment is coming up empty, though preliminary lab analysis of hair samples confirms that Schott was there.” [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Cissy Chambers was running Dick through the status of their major open cases. The search for the man wanted for fifteen separate counts of kidnapping, two counts of child murder, and three aggravated assault charges being at the top of the list. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]“You said that the name ‘Michael Jarret’ rang a bell, so I looked into it,” the lieutenant noted. Flipping a brown folder down onto Dick’s desk, the woman continued as Dick started to read. He’d only just laid eyes on it when the recollection of his conversation with Toyboy about the 1996 case came back to mind. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]“He was one of Schott’s classmates. Survived Hinkley Creek and then took his own life a few years later,” Cissy noted.[/color]

[color=#9fc5e8]“Schott stole his identity,” [/color][color=#ffffff]Dick uttered gruffly. Laying the folder on his desk, the man just stared down at it for a moment. [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“My god. What if..?”[/color][color=#ffffff] he began, the thought seemingly stopped there. Instead, Dick looked up and said, [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“See what you can find on Jarret’s suicide.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Reaching out with one hand, Cissy flipped several pages in the file. When she’d stopped, Dick realized that what he’d just asked for was right in front of him.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]And it was only a single page. Half a page even. “There was a note and the ME didn’t ask for an autopsy, so they just closed the case file the same day that the body was found,” Cissy noted, her tone matching the scowl on Dick’s face. “But I agree that its suspicious in light of current events.”[/color]

[color=#9fc5e8]“One more...”[/color][color=#ffffff] Dick uttered cryptically. He was quiet a moment, before he looked up and explained, [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“There’s another survivor who died by suicide. Check into it.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The lieutenant gave a nod, retrieving the folder from off of Dick’s desk and replacing it with another from the stack in her arms. “That leaves the pawn shop case,” she offered, prefacing the brief to come. Dick flipped open the folder as she continued. “I asked Dolph for a preliminary report on the pawn shop case, but he says they’re coming up empty.” [/color]

[color=#9fc5e8]“What about the forensics?” [/color][color=#ffffff]Dick asked, even as he thumbed over to the section of the file that contained the CSI notations.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“Dave’s team went over the cash register. There’s a clear impression of a hand, but no fingerprints. Only thing they came back with was some mud.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The man raised an eyebrow, but continued on. [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“We get the footage from the store?”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Cissy gave a nod. “It’s on the sharedrive.” [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Setting the folder down, Dick shifted his posture as he turned toward the workstation on his desk. Logging in, he pulled up the reports database and then glanced over for the referenced investigation number. Then, pulling up the media files associated with the case call number, brought up the video file.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]On the computer monitor, a man who could have been Boris Karloff’s ugly twin stormed into the store. And, sure enough, grabbed the cash register and proceeded to crack it like an egg with his bare hands.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The stony face was distinctive to start with, but what stuck out to Dick most of all were the eyes. There was [i]something[/i] about those eyes. [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“How does someone get a face like that?”[/color][color=#ffffff] the man blurted aloud.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“We already ran the image,” Cissy said, chiming in from over Dick’s shoulder. “Cross-referenced against DMV, FBI, and Department of State. Whoever he is, he’s off the...”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The phone ringing on Dick’s desk interrupted them. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Reaching over, Dick swiped the handset. [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“Grayson,”[/color][color=#ffffff] the man uttered. As he did, Cissy stepped back around toward the front of the office. [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“Uh huh,”[/color][color=#ffffff] Dick remarked, cradling the handset between his head and shoulder, freeing his hands to fumble for a pen and paper. [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“Twelfth and Farnam? Tell them that Lieutenant Chambers and I are en route.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Cissy was obviously curious as he hung up the phone. Standing from the desk, Dick reached over and pulled on his usual, sable-colored trench coat.  [/color][color=#9fc5e8]“Jewelry store robbery,”[/color][color=#ffffff] he offered, tossing a pair of car keys at her. [/color]

[color=#9fc5e8]“Description matches our pawn shop case.”[/color]
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