Redemption

It was night – not just night, but the deepest, darkest kind of night. You know, like the kind of night they make horror movies about. The rain was driving down like liquid artillery; ear-splitting cracks of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning lighted the scene. The ocean was a boiling, churning mass of confused waves, running like a crowd of petrified people. Rocks rose here and there out of the sea. It was a night to make any sane person cower in their bed in terror.

I must not have been sane.

It was the worst storm that the area had ever seen. A hurricane had come up the east coast of the United States not long before, and had died away. However, the resulting low-pressure weather system upset the equilibrium of the local climate and – well, to put it in layman's terms, it made a really big storm. And I don't think I was entirely sane at the time, because I was driving a small boat right through the middle of it.

Chapter 1

An omniscient observer looking from the clouds over the coast of Maine would have seen a small boat bobbing on the surface of the Atlantic. This observer would have been quite puzzled though, because the boat was not going towards the shore, but away from it. The boat was being tossed about like a toy of giants, as the waves picked it up and threw it playfully across the frantic surface of the sea.

I stood at the helm of the small cabin cruiser – well, not exactly stood. More like I barely managed to stay upright. The only reason I could even keep my balance at all was my martial arts training; I was told that I was agile and strong, but I always figured I would use that in combat. I never imagined it would come in handy on a boat. I compensated for every twist and turn of my craft as I searched the horizon ahead, but found nothing; the spray and the rain made heaven and earth seem to be one solid mass of water. The sea spray whipped into my face, soaking me. I never acknowledged it. My mind was somewhere far away from the boat I was piloting.

I was trying to find the WWW Island.

It wasn't really named the WWW Island, but that was what everyone called it. The island was small, only about an acre. It was completely uninhabited, mostly because it lay in a section of continuously stormy sea, known for its rocks and whirlpools. Its only visitors were the seagulls.

That is, until Wily came.

(S)(S)(S)

Dr. Andrew Wily was a top scientist at Scilab, the international science center. He was in charge of research on robotics. In his field, he was the master – people would come to him for advice as the world's recognized expert on automation and artificial intelligence. He was at the top of his profession, widely respected by his peers, leader of one of the most cutting-edge fields of research at the world's largest scientific institution.

Then he vanished.

Wily had had a falling-out shortly before with Thomas Hikari, leader of the team researching the computers and the World Wide Web. Hikari was a great success story – he was only thirty-two, and already was responsible for the rise of the three-dimensional web, the PET (Personal Electronic Terminal), and the widespread integration of web technology into every aspect of life in most countries. He had been working with Wily on the crowning achievement of both of their careers – the Internet Navigator, or NetNavi for short. This program would reside in each person's PET and integrate, under one central artificial intelligence, a variety of programs designed to make the life of every person easier. When they finished the work, Wily made a copy of the completed NetNavi and walked out of the Scilab building, never to return.

Wily's whereabouts remained a mystery for twenty-two years, during which time Thomas Hikari died. After his death, his son carried on his work, inheriting his father's office and position at Scilab. He was responsible for many of the improvements to the NetNavi design over the years. His work was instrumental in the further development of the Internet.

Suddenly, Wily came back on the scene with his terrorist organization, the WWW. The WWW was different than most terror organizations in that it operated completely within the confines of the cyberworld. Nonetheless, because of the widespread integration of the Internet, his henchmen were able to wreak immense havoc all over the world. Wily, though, was finally defeated in his plot by Lan Hikari, grandson of Thomas, and his Navi Megaman.exe.

Wily still had not learned though. He tried again, this time moving his headquarters to a remote island off the coast of Maine – the WWW island. Lan once more defeated him and destroyed his threat to society, Alpha. However, the facility stayed intact.

I knew of this island only from stories my friends had told me. About how Cossack had used one of Wily's inventions and nearly died; about how Tora had nearly been electrocuted to death by another one; about how Dex had been nearly killed by one of Wily's tanks; about Chaud's brush with death by flamethrower; about Lan's close call at the hands of a computer-controlled drill. I remembered what they had said about the completeness of the facility, about the strange inventions that lay within. It was time for Wily's fortress to be brought to life once more.

(S)(S)(S)

Ahead of the boat, through the mist and spray, I saw a dark form start to take shape low on the horizon. I smiled as the boat leapt forward towards it. This would be the perfect hideout. I definitely needed a place to lie low for a while, and WWW Island just about fit the bill.

The boat slowed to a crawl as I eased back the throttle, then bumped gently against the rocky pier. I leapt out quickly with a mooring rope and tied the boat up. I looked like a drowned rat. My jeans were completely soaked, my turtleneck was quite damp, and my scarf hung over my shoulder like a skinny tail. My black trench coat hung in dripping folds around me as I looked up for the first time at Fortress Wily.

It was tall and dark, and hung like a foreboding mass on the skyline. Up above, I could see the craggy rocks that served as the foundation for each story. There were low buildings which squatted on their haunches above each outcropping; peering closer, I could see that they were windowless, and had only one door. I could see a few of Wily's infamous computer-controlled tanks, now silent and still on the ledges above me. Above them were menacing skull statues, designed to scare off any snoopers. At the very top of the complex sat an immense satellite dish pointing up to the heavens.

Not a very inviting place.

I spoke, mainly to hear the sound of a human voice in these eerie surroundings. "I really should get moving." My voice echoed back at me off the uninviting gray walls as I turned to get my bags out of the boat. I walked boldly towards the front entrance across the wet, slippery rocks and grabbed the door handle.

Locked.

"Bloody door…," I muttered through my teeth as I pulled out my PET. This particular PET had no Navi inside it, but it contained quite a few useful programs. It was designed to use some very old software, designed before Navis were even around. A few of these programs were even better than most Navis at cracking encryptions.

I pulled a screwdriver out of my pocket and attacked the electronic lock, forcing the plastic box open. I clipped the PET to two of the wires and set to work. A small dialog box appeared in the PET's main window.

Username:

Password:

"Okay, there's the crack window, it's running fine," I said, somewhat relieved. I leaned against the wall for a minute, watching the progress of the crack program. The PET chimed, and I leaned over and looked. "Well, well…" I chuckled.

Username: Andrew Wily

Password: evilgenius2010&

The old man obviously had a sense of humor. At least that's something to be said for him.

I hit the Enter key on the onscreen keyboard. I heard the sharp snick of the lock sliding away, then tried the doorknob. The door opened, and I stepped inside.

The first thing I noticed was the burned smell that hung over everything. There were smoke stains on the walls, and a few of the girders on the ceiling were melted and burned almost all the way through. This room was full of computers: the walls were covered in monitors, and along the walls were an assortment of different systems. In the middle of the room was a large machine with many cables running to it. All of the machines were dead right now, having no electricity. There was no light at all, not so much as one little LED to light my way. I dropped most of my bags, pulled a flashlight out of my pocket and kept going deeper, little puffs of dust following my every step. The dust coated my clothes liberally, turning them a sooty gray as I walked through the room. I reached the end and stepped into an elevator. It dinged and began to carry me upwards.

I looked around the inside of the elevator as it went upwards, trying to see if it had anything useful inside it, or even any trapdoors. On the floor, in the corner, was a PET. I picked it up and looked at the name, written on a paper label on the outside. It said "Cossack". Wait a minute, I thought. Cossack is the one who made Bass.exe, the ultimate Navi. On a whim, I decided to turn the PET on.

Nothing.

Oh well, I thought, it's probably run out of battery life from sitting in here so long. I thought nothing more of it as I stepped out of the elevator.

On the ledge where I now stood was a strange-looking tank. It had obviously lost power, as it sat harmlessly to one side of the door. I walked past it, sparing no more than a cursory glance, and opened the next door.

I swung my flashlight around the room, looking at its contents. It seemed to be some sort of central planning or briefing room. On the left side of the room were various electronic devices; many were twisted and mangled, but many still looked functional. An evil-smelling purple river poured through a passageway to my right. A huge desk with the World Three logo on it stood in front of me, along with a globe and a statue of Wily. A huge plasma screen dominated the wall behind it – it would have easily been twenty feet wide by fifteen tall. Surrounding everything was the fuzzy smell of the dust that lay like thick carpet beneath my feet.

I decided to snoop around here a little bit – this looked like a prime spot to find some things that would be of use to me in my new home. The computers against the wall were mostly burnt-out hulks, torched from the inside. On a hunch, I reached behind one of the intact ones. I prised off a large, heavy mass: it was yellowish-gray, and extremely malleable. It looked to me like C2 plastic explosive. I smiled – Wily may have been many things, but an explosives engineer was not one of them. It looked like he had a failsafe to take the building down if anything happened to Alpha. Luckily for Lan and his friends, it didn't work. Wily did a really lousy job of wiring the explosives, and it seemed that what did go off was too little to do any real structural damage. Mind you, a grenade in the right place could probably bring the whole complex crashing into the ocean, but I wasn't planning on stocking any grenades in here, that's for sure.

It was time to move on. I walked around the desk to the waiting elevator and stepped inside, pressing the "UP" button. I thought back to what Lan had said when I had talked to him last…

Lan and I were sitting at a table, playing cards. It was kind of odd – we were playing poker, but we didn't have any money. He was broke for once, which was definitely out of character. Lan was the kind of guy who kept very good track of his spending habits, and I queried him about it.

"Hey Lan."

"Yeah, Sean?" he replied, looking at me curiously as he laid down three cards and drew from the pile.

"Why is it you don't have any money? I mean, you're the kind of guy who goes around with fifty bucks of emergency money stashed in his wallet. Did you finally buy a new car instead of that old bomb you drive around here?"

He looked at me with furrowed brows. "Well," he sighed, "I guess I can tell you. I decided to propose to Mayl, and I bought her a ring. I'm a little short because of that."

I stared at him, surprise and delight spreading through the annoyance clouding my brain. I had a really bad hand, but all of a sudden I felt like I had just drawn a royal flush. "That's awesome, Lan! When are you going to ask her?"

He grinned and looked down at his hand. "Well, I was going to ask her out to dinner next week and pop the question to her. Hopefully it goes well."

"All the best," I replied. I raised my beer in salute. "To Lan and Mayl, and may they have a happy life."

He lifted his frosted mug then brought it to his lips. "Thanks, Sean." As he set the beer back down, he glanced at his hand again. "Show," he smirked, throwing his cards down on the table with a practiced air. "Full house."

I scowled, tossing my hand across the table. "Pair," I growled. "Some fellows have all the luck."

"Indeed," he murmured, shuffling the deck.

Indeed. Lan was like Midas – everything he did turned to gold. Whereas I, on the other hand, had had nothing but trouble my whole life. Some of it, of course, was self-made, but some was not of my own making at all.

I remember the day my parents died. It was a glorious day outside, a day which would make an artist reach for his brushes, a poet scramble for his pens, a young boy dig out his bat and ball. My father was English, my mother Japanese, so we lived in England for my dad's job. I was out with some of my friends playing football in the park. It's funny how you remember the little things about momentous times in your life – I remember acutely that the grass had been freshly mown. The smell of it I can conjure up as if it was yesterday; the same for the taste of the fizzy soda that one of the boys had brought in a cooler. The ice all melted and the soda was warm – I remember that. I was sitting under the picnic pavilion by the side of the field, drinking my warm soda and reveling in the breeze that ruffled my hair. I was feeling good; my parents were out of town on a business trip, and I was under the care of my benevolent Aunt Cindy, who was a bit lax on discipline. I was sitting on the bench under that pavilion, and I can see myself, all tired and sweaty from the match, drinking, my feet swinging back and forth under my chair, my hair sticky and clinging to my face, as she walked up to me. I remember how the clouds on her face seemed to darken the sky as she told me what had happened.

"Sean, your – your mom and dad are – not going to come back. There's been a horrific accident."

I wasn't stupid. I may have only been about seven, but I was already, as my mother termed it, a "precocious child". I knew immediately what had happened, and I began to feel numb.

"They are dead, then."

It wasn't a question. I knew, I knew, that they were gone. Adults always showed through their body language what was happening, and Aunt Cindy looked like she had been through a meat grinder.

On that day, my life changed forever. I was put permanently under Aunt Cindy's care, but ran away. Unlike most children, I thrived out on the street as a quick and crafty little thief. I was numb for months after my parent's died, holding the grief back. Finally, the pain came, and with it, an irrational yearning for vengeance. Not vengeance on any person in particular, but vengeance on the world.

I was unusually smart, as I said before. I took control of an aging Mafia faction called Gospel and built it into a powerhouse, taking control of the Internet. As a child, I was earning more than most grown men earn in a year. I was in charge of many illegal operations, and foremost among them was a plot to take over the Web. It progressed extremely quickly – I was almost successful.

Then Lan Hikari came along and destroyed my plans. Turned them into rubbish. Decimated them.

And he offered me friendship.

Lan showed me life – the life I had not had for several years. Normal life, without burning anger and vindictiveness. I spent a lot of time with his family and his friends; I was accepted almost as a part of the Hikari family. I visited frequently, and he and I would stay up to the small hours of the morning talking about our most guarded thoughts – he was me, and I was him. We were so different, yet as friends, we were as close as anyone could be.

I let go of Gospel. I returned the illegal merchandise, turned in the former members, but I kept a huge deposit of money in a bank account. Unlike most of the rest, it had been earned completely legally, from when I completed short-deadline assignments on contract for several corporations. They were extremely happy to pay me whatever amount I wanted, because my work was excellent. I could design a program in a day when it would take a week for anyone else. Because of that, I had a huge stash of emergency money filed away. Not even Lan knew about it, and that had been my salvation.

Lan had been my best friend.

And now…

I was shaken out of my reverie by the sound of the door opening. The elevator had reached its destination, and I exited it, leaving the ghosts of my past behind me. I walked up a flight of stairs, then down a long slope, reaching the next door and entering.

I was in a long rectangular room. Shining the flashlight off to my left, I could see the nasty-smelling purple river again, and beyond it the room from which I had recently come. The floor of the room was covered with power and data cables, lying like thick bundles of electrified spaghetti messily slopped around. Along the sides of the room were many of some odd type of machine, the same kind I had seen in the first room. Curious, I stepped closer and shone my flashlight on the side, where I could read the inscription. It read Pulse Transmission System Prototype version 0.8.9.1 WARNING! USE OF THIS SYSTEM COULD CAUSE INJURY OR DEATH!

I suddenly remembered Lan mentioning the machine to me before. He said that Cossack had used it, and had nearly died when Bass attacked him. He also mentioned that he had actually used it himself, with Megaman, and that they had survived unhurt. It was ingenious. The person would sit in the integrated chair, and the visor would come down over the head. Electrodes would then come out of the visor and attach to the skull so that the person could control the picture without any physical input whatsoever. The person would be able to jack into the virtual world just like a NetNavi. The images of the 3D web would be scanned to the visor, which shined a retinal-painting laser into the eye. The technology made the image seem holographic, or three-dimensional. The only downside to this technology was that if one was hurt in cyberspace, one would be hurt in real life, as a consequence of the increased immersion of the experience. Chances were good that the electrodes could shock you badly enough to cause a fatal stroke. It was enough to make one think soberly about what he was doing before he consented using one. But anyway, I was on a mission, and I did not have time to waste here.

I walked to the end of the room, through a curtain of hanging cables, and stepped through the doorway. Out here was a stone-flagged passageway covered with debris, and at the end a tank with a drill on the front – rather odd-looking, but Wily had some rather strange design ideas. To the right of the tank was a set of double doors. I stepped through them into the final chamber of Wily's WWW castle.

The room was large, three times as large as any I had been through previously. In front of me stretched a large flight of stairs, leading up to a large area dominated by six of the Pulse Transmission Systems. I walked slowly up the stairs, shining the flashlight in front of me. All of the other areas had been affected to some degree or another by the bomb blasts, but this one seemed intact. Slowly I walked across the floor and stopped, incredulous.

One of the PTS's had power running to it.

I looked at it, surprised. I had thought power to the whole base had been cut, but for some reason, this one was still running.

Maybe…

But no. He wouldn't have…

But maybe…

I shook off my doubts and proceeded to the PTS. I sat down in the integrated chair and set Cossack's PET in the slot. Maybe it had some data I could salvage. After preparing myself, I pulled the visor over my head; it slid down slowly, with a soft hiss, finally engaging with a click. I felt the electrodes come out of the wall and attach to my head; it felt slightly like being probed by an octopus, and felt vaguely disturbing. Finally, it turned the display on. I had a brief instant of lightheadedness, then suddenly I found myself in a Cyberworld.

This was a small square floor area, with a few Navi-shaped AI programs and a couple of mystery data diamonds. I stepped forward…and all of a sudden was greeted with a huge power console display that shimmered into existence in front of me. It lit up with a soothing glow as I walked slowly towards it. Suddenly, it began to speak.

Greetings, Sean Obihiro, it intoned in a deep bass. I seemed to feel rather than hear its voice. I have waited for you. The console seemed to fold open in the center, and I felt a huge source of power in the Cyberworld. The view of the scene seemed to shift and shimmer from it. I watched entranced as the panel seemed to swing wide open, and a Navi stepped out.

A cloaked Navi.

A Navi with tall, black and yellow crests on his head.

I stumbled backwards in surprise and shock. "Bass…no…impossible…"

"But it is possible," he replied, smirking. "I am not as weak as you seem to think, Obihiro. Your friend Lan and his Megaman have tried to delete me upwards of a dozen times." He smiled suddenly. "They failed. But those were the days! I loved those epic battles. It was rather…refreshing to have someone that was a bit of a challenge, and invigorating to be beaten for once. But I digress from my purpose."

"What do you want of me?" I replied. "If you had wanted to kill me, your power over the Cyberworld would have been enough to kill me a dozen times over. You must want something else." Bass looked at me evenly. "You are as perceptive as I heard. I do not wish to kill you. I merely pursue my dream."

"What is your dream, Bass?"

"Power," he replied. "Without Lan, Megaman would be deleted easily. Megaman is pitifully weak without Lan. I am incredibly strong, but the relationship Lan and Megaman have gives them so much power! I am not easily awed, but the strength I felt flowing from Megaman last time we battled left me thunderstruck. I had no knowledge of anything that could give that much power to a battler, and I asked him, as he finished me, what the source of his power was. He replied, 'Lan and I work together, and when we work together, something greater than the sum of its parts comes out.' I have to find that power, and I believe you are the best one to help me." He frowned. "There is another reason, too. I believe that you are on the run from the Officials, yes?"

I had to agree. "Yes, that's common knowledge."

Bass smirked. "Well then, I am guessing you could use another's help. I believe you are innocent. However, convincing the Officials of your innocence will be a task of monumental proportions. You will probably need any and all help I could give you."

"So," I summed up, "you want to become my Navi?"

"That would be basically what I am saying, yes."

"Well then," I said dryly, "I accept. You can be of some use to me, and I can be of some use to you. I have Cossack's PET plugged into the machine."

Bass turned to me with an arch look. "Yes, I am aware of that. When you turned it on, it sent a signal into the Net, which automatically contacted me."

I tried not to look shocked. "How did you rig that up?"

"Come now, Sean, are you that ignorant? I used to reside in that PET before I threw off all service to those who created me. Do you really think it would be that hard for me to add something to the internal code?"

"Okay, Bass, if you want to, the link to the PET is over there." I pointed to a glowing pad on the Cyberworld floor. Suddenly I remembered what I came for. "Oh, Bass, do you by any chance know how to turn on the power to this complex?"

Bass made no reply, but stepped over to the power console he had stepped from and began to push buttons and flip switches. I heard a distant hum and the words Power restarted. Emergency power offline. He stepped away from the console with a satisfied look and stepped onto the PET link.

I formed the words Jack out in my head. I felt lightheaded for a moment, then my head cleared and I was back in the real world. I lifted the visor and realized the internal lights were back on in the complex. I turned to the PTS and lifted my PET out of the slot. "Bass, are you in there?" I said. He looked at me through the screen. "I am. Right now I am taking stock of the programs contained in my old home," he replied. "You can upload me to the main computer in Wily's briefing room if you want to. From there, I can access the entire Net, and I also have control over the entire fortress. And," he continued, "I have more processing power at my disposal there. With that power, I can hack as well as Searchman."

"Right," I said as I backtracked to the Briefing Room. "I think I'll do just that."

(S)(S)(S)

Eugene Chaud was not happy. He was not happy at all. That Sean had gotten cleanly away from every Official unit sent to chase him, plus the FBI that Chaud had called in, plus every police officer in the United States! And right now, he was having to face a very angry Lan Hikari, sitting across the desk from him and voicing his objections to the current situation very loudly.

"I know what you're saying, Chaud. I really do. But I don't think Sean would go off and do something like this. He's changed from what he was." Lan's face was drained and white. He and Chaud had had this argument over ten times already, but Lan wasn't going to give up.

Chaud rubbed his temples. The strain of the past few days was beginning to get to him; he was wasted from the around-the-clock investigation that had been going on. He stared into his mug of coffee as if searching for the magic solution, the Holy Grail that would save his job, save his friend, and save him from dying of exhaustion. He had a killer headache, and Lan was only making it worse.

"I realize that, Lan. I don't believe it either. But you do have to admit that the evidence is completely against him. I mean, he was seen by everyone at that bank." Chaud looked covertly at Lan, trying to see if his message had gotten through.

"I know," Lan said, "but I don't much care for this investigation."

"Nor do I, Lan, but we have to do our jobs."

Lan sighed. "All right," he sighed. "I'll go back to the office and get Megaman scouring the net again. I'll be there if you need me." He looked at Chaud worriedly. "You need to take a break, Chaud. You've been two days without sleep, and you have huge black bags under your eyes. Take a rest. I'll cover for you."

"No," said Chaud weakly. "I have a job to do."

Lan raised his eyebrows. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear the first time, Chaud." He pointed at the couch. "Get your fat butt over there and get some sleep. I'm taking over."

"All right," said Chaud. "If you insist." He lay down on the couch and fell asleep immediately.

(S)(S)(S)

"I have embarked virus spies all over the Net," Bass said. "We should know more in a few hours."

"Excellent," I said. "I'm going to hit the sack, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead," replied Bass. "I am able to handle everything for now."