Part 1

Chapter 1 Prepared for Anything

Such a strange occurrence happened to me that sometimes I wish to forget of it, but as I hold this babe in my arms, I am reminded…Having to withhold such events proves even hard for me. Even for a cyborg. So I write in hopes of relieving my pains my feelings, but never truly doing so…

He had just finished his latest assignment. As suicidal as it had seemed he had survived another day. With a crack of his knuckles and his neck he seemed prepared for anything. He stood at attention as a woman he had come to know as "Boss woman" came into his presence.

She smiled at him stiffly in her orderly demeanor.

"You seem to have a knack for the impossible, Ziggurat 8."

He stared at her with his emotionless eyes that matched hers. He knew that she cared little about him.

"How is it that you can do this? My superiors were firm on their beliefs that this mission would prove fatal."

"If I may…"

"I didn't ask for an answer Ziggurat 8, know your place. One such as you shouldn't even be allowed to speak in my presence."

He remained silent thereafter, to the Boss woman's dismay. After all these years she could find no fault in the cyborg's actions. He was simply too cooperative. Just like the machine he is.

She looked at him and dead eyes met her. Such an eerie feeling overcame her that she nearly looked away.

"For your next assignment, it demands your utmost concentration and prowess. Protect the current pope. You do know who that is?"

The cyborg shook his head.

"No? I wouldn't expect you to know anyhow. Pope Sergius. He resides at this address."

She handed him a small sheet of paper with an address scribbled upon it. In that small moment in the transference of the piece of paper, her weapon-scarred hand touched the cyborg's sold mechanical one. It was such a cold feeling, so lacking in warmth that her hand became numb in that one area. Sudden fear and pity passed over her eyes, but it was gone in a split second.

"You will protect him wherever he goes even if it is just to get the mail. Now, make yourself scarce. The next time you see me will mark the end of your current assignment."

The cyborg gave her a quick nod and left her presence. He soon stepped outside and was greeted with a blast of frosty air. It was deathly freezing outside enough to impose hypothermia and everywhere you looked one could see people bundled tightly in woolen jackets and gloves with mouths blanketed with scarves and heads adorned with fur hoods and hats, but the cyborg was different. He wore nothing except for the clothes issued to him. His chest lay exposed, but he felt nothing of the nippy weather. He looked solemnly at the address and accessed it into his mind. Soon his mind gave feedback to how he was to get to his assigned address similar to a MapQuest. He walked in measured steps with his metal "feet" pounding onto concrete despite his carefulness. Many would stare at him in a gross expression and he met them all with his deathly cold stare and they quickly looked away. He stalked down the sidewalk like an ice demon until he arrived at his destination.

The house that he beheld was so archaic that he scarcely believed that he was in the right place. He looked again at the address and saw that he was not mistaken. Impossible; someone as famous as Pope Sergius wouldn't dare live in such an ugly dwelling.

Despite the fact that he had plainly conveyed to the Boss woman that he knew nothing about the pope, he clearly knew just the opposite. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of the Boss woman, it was simply because he knew better than to imply that he had any intelligence apart from his ability to follow rules. And follow the rules he did as he pressed the doorbell. He waited with crossed arms for acceptance into the house. The door opened widely without caution and without thought that anyone could harm the one behind it. The cyborg knew from that moment that he had his work cut out for him. The pope had no sense of self-preservation.

"And who are you to knock on my door so early in the morning?"

"I am to protect you from harm," said the cyborg with his deep homophonic voice.

The cyborg received a surprised expression.

"So it has come to this. They're sending bodyguards now. This is more serious than I thought. Please come in."

The cyborg followed the pope silently as the pope continued to talk.

"You have such coldness in your heart. What shall I call you?"

"Ziggurat 8."

"Ziggurat 8 is it? Then it is what I shall call you. I'm sure it is cold outside. Why do you not wear a coat or something to fend from the cold?"

"I do not require one. My body does not feel cold or warmth."

At that moment the pope turned to face the cyborg.

"I pity you. The world has been cruel to you to deny you any feeling. Do you not feel sad?"

The cyborg was not prepared for such questioning and he was becoming annoyed. He simply remained quiet ignoring the pope's last question. The pope nodded with understanding. They soon arrived in the shabby living room.

"Please stay here and wait for my return."

"Where are you going?"

"Do you not see my wet hair and dampened skin? You caught me in my daily shower and now I shall finish it."

The pope continued to the stairs, the cyborg began to follow. The man turned around to the cyborg.

"You don't mean to follow me, do you?"

"I must follow you wherever you go."

"Even to a bathroom?"

The cyborg looked at the pope questioningly.

"You do know how to think for yourself. If you really must follow me, wait outside of the bathroom."

The pope received a quick nod. The man shook his head as he climbed upstairs. It is to my understanding that a cyborg was once a human. A child of God. There was a time when this machine, which I see now, had a mind of his own. But the wiles of the devil…