The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

Hackers and gangsters have taken over, eliminating bounty hunters. And a prostitute will seek revenge for her murdered family. But something else is happening. And there's dark weirdness that has to be read to be understood...

1. Chapter 1: Blood Through The Cracks

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 1--Through The Cracks

…

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...

_____"Criminal BASTARDS!" screamed the aggressive male. He was upside-down at the

moment, his head near the rust-dusted concrete floor and his metal feet up in the air. "ALL

OF YOU! If I wasn't bolted to this piece of crap, I'd snatch off all your damned heads and

squee-e-e-eze out the brains like sauce! And I'll SEE YOU IN SATAN'S PALACE!

BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA...!" His loud and obnoxious shout echoed off the old

warehouse walls, walls shaded in darkness.

_____This was a very large and very old warehouse, with damaged metal crates and

mysterious rusting machines piled up along the walls--a place was large enough to store a

ship from long ago. It was night-time, and there were only a few working lights here--suspended

from the catwalks high above the floor. No one really knew what this place was used for

originally. Rumor was, this place was probably used to store flying machine parts or

something like that, a few centuries ago: back when humanity crafted grand machines and

traveled in space.

_____Now this place was being used for a place of execution. Six cyborgs--bounty hunters,

all of them--were bolted to thick metal plates and suspended upside-down. They were all

generally silent and resigned to their fate: a humiliating death at the hands of city outlaws and

thugs. Two of the bounty hunters had dents in their metal skulls: the obnoxious male and the

only female in the group.

_____The female was rather pretty--a feminine alloyed body with gentle curves executed in

metal, a smooth synthetic face, long silky blue hair hanging down. But now there was a

slight concave gash in the left side of her forehead, showing a bit of the dented metal skull

beneath. A pinkish fluid dripped from her ears, and her breath was ragged. It wasn't a

problem: She would be dead soon.

_____She swallowed hard, gasped a few breaths and said something: her dying words.

"Do you hear...him? HE is coming... I welcome him." Her artificial eyes glinted in the weak

warehouse lighting. "HE is coming for us all."

_____Nine handguns took aim, followed by the sharp CRACK-CRACK-CRACK of

gunfire. The muzzle flashes filled up the space with light and sound and chaos as the armored

bodies of the bounty hunters were all shot up. Their bodies, bolted to those metal platforms,

gushed both blood and sparks.

_____When it was over, the enforcers put away their handguns. These so-called "criminals"

were all dressed in uniform black business suits, all of the same height. Their exposed metal

hands were the only sure signs of them being cyborgs as their well-tailored clothing covered

everything else--synthetic flesh for faces and polymer strands for hair.

_____They stopped firing... A deathly near-silence followed this execution, only violated

by the sound of the wind. "Bullets trump blades any day," said one of the enforcers. "Power

flows from the barrel of a gun!"

_____The upside-down female cyborg sucked in sips of air as she began to die, blood

flowing over her face. Her dying eyes were focusing on the blurry figure standing behind the

enforcers. He was clad in blue, a blue hat on his head, and he had a rather long tool slung

over his left shoulder. She closed her eyes.

...

1.

...

_____The deep orange-red of the coming sunrise burned on the eastern skyline. A stark

horizon, it bordered this panoramic view of sand-scrubbed wasteland beyond the city. It was

a vast view of flattened, wasted desolation. Somewhere out there, beyond that horizon, there

monsters of metal working at computers.

_____These monsters were semi-intelligent cyber-machines at work on the Network: the

world-wide information system that ran the city, controlled its infrastructure. It controlled

this city. Behind this Network was an almost almighty computer--too damned powerful to

comprehend. IT controlled ALL the world's cities from its lofty position from a floating

city--high up in the sky and far away. The monsters and the machines, they were so closely

linked and connected that they were part of the overall machine. Ruled by a computer. The

computer was named Melchezedek.

_____The unholy master-computer in the floating city--high up in the sky--was the true and

ultimate master behind the all-powerful Network, and the robotic "deckmen" were the

lower-level clergy and messengers of this cyber-regime. Deckmen, the cylindrical robots

with chubby rubbery faces and chubby manipulator "hands"--were able to be installed onto

small transportation platforms and specially built desks as needed--they performed the Zalem

machine's will. Deckmen performed many managerial duties, including helping run the

factories on the planet's surface...

_____And some of the most sophisticated deckmen maintained the Network. But now

the network-maintaining deckmen were becoming confused. Despite their repeated

efforts, they could not repair a certain important connection within the Network. A very

important connection, too: This was a link responsible for an entire sector of a city.

_____Though these "deckmen" had human brains integrated into their circuitry, the brains

had been surgically altered and customized as needed--mutilated for the sake of the machine.

These special network deckmen did not become "angry" whenever their attempts to repair

the connection failed. Anger was not within the hardware specifications of these special

deckmen. In other words, they literally did not have the brains to be angry.

_____Anyone else, anything else, would have been angry at their current situation. They tried

and tried to fix the connection. But it was a no-go! Their efforts were being confounded.

_____So far, they tried exactly six-hundred and forty times to reconfigure that important

electronic link. And they FAILED exactly six-hundred and forty times. To think that these

deckmen were made exactly for the purpose of Network maintenance, and they were

failing at their job. Perhaps these deckmen were faulty and had to be recycled. Though the

electronics and mechanics could be recycled, the human brain matter within them would have

to be disposed of. Well, there were always plenty of willing (and suicidal) human subjects--

willing to have their brains removed and used for the Network.

...

_____The young, dark-haired girl used her fine fingers to type out a few more commands,

stroking the keys on her bubblegum-pink keyboard. "Ha ha ha...!" she laughed, her big

beautiful dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Jake, Joel, we're better than the computers

at using computers! Whee-e-e!" She then spun around in her swivel-chair. "Ha-ha-a! Fun!"

The girl's name was Lissette, and she loved this job.

_____Joel was seated at the second computer workstation in this little computer lab. He

looked over at Lissette--wonderful Lissette--sitting nearby. GOD, how beautiful she

looked to him! Her silken dark hair cascaded straight down her slim back, combed back

away from her pretty face: big beautiful dark eyes, and pert little features. Her body was as

wonderful as that face, beautiful and sleek... A beautiful and athletic girl-woman's body. Her

skin was smooth and creamy--probably all over.

_____Unfortunately, that wonderful cream-pale body of hers was all covered up with

clothes--a pink blouse and tight blue jeans. Light little shoes on her feet. Damn, she ought

to wear less.

_____But, much to Joel's delight, he noticed that her tight jeans fit like a second skin...

And he could ALMOST see through her blouse! Mmmh, he was imagining... HUH HUH

HUH!

_____"Huh-huh-huh..." chuckled Jake, rapid-tapping keys at his own keyboard. Yes,

JAKE was here too. He always was! A tousle-haired blond teen, Jake dressed his thin self

in tee shirt and jeans every day. And it was sometimes the same tee shirt and jeans. Though

not much to look at, he was a damned good at using various computer programming languages

of the world-ruling Network.

_____But that mastery of computer languages must have come at the cost of not being

good at human communication... He was a person of very few words. "Huh--huh-huh..." For

all Joel knew, part of Jake's brain had probably already undergone the deckmen-making

process! That would explain why he was such a good hacker.

_____Joel himself was a decent-looking sort of young man: vaguely muscular, swarthy

skinned, and and a habitual wearer of buttoned shirts and slacks. His dark hair was always

neatly combed, straight black above his dark-brown lean face.

_____And right now, that face of his flashed anger at Jake. Jake was ALWAYS around.

Jake, ALWAYS ruining a moment. One of these days, maybe something had to happen

to Jake. Always around to ruin his chances with beautiful Lissette...

_____Lissette suddenly swirled around in her, crossing her shapely legs. "Hey Joel, if you

weren't too busy gawking at me like a dumbed-down deckman, you'd see on your monitor

that we've fried another one of Zalem city's damned network servers! And they won't fix

THAT anytime soon!" She turned back to the computer. "Gosh, Joel. Always staring at

somebody..."

_____"Huh-huh!" added Jake. He snorted, continued work hunched over his own

keyboard--his uncombed blond hair covering his slack-jawed face. How Jake could see

anything through that loose and crazy blond mane of his was almost beyond Joel's

comprehension. But he COULD see, fingers went rapid-fire on the keyboard keys.

"Huh-huh-huh..."

_____Shaking his head, Joel went back to his own work, eyeing the diagnostics information

on the screen. Then he went to work again, fingers to keys. He was using a straight-up

text-line interface, which meant paying attention, tapping keys, and mumbling in frustration.

_____Lissette gave a toss of her head, then used those fine slim fingers of hers to stroke

her silken hair back. Then she continued working at her machine. Throughout this city, there

were over twenty such custom-made computer workstations--hidden beneath the streets in

hidden underground computer labs. And they were all used for the specific purpose of

frustrating the biger computers of the Network.

_____Though the girl had a light and wonderful attitude about most things, she had heavy

responsibilities. As the founding member and leader of The Parasol Club--this organization

of hackers--she and her team had to daily work at hacking the Network to keep it from

taking over this sector of this city. Because, outside of this sector of the city, the Network

ran the cities and factory-style farms of the world.

_____But there was not much of a world left nowadays to rule. Most of the world's lands

were baked wasteland--ruined with toxic pollution, upset with earthquakes, and heated by

the hotter sunny temperatures. It made for brightly heated days and changes in the ocean

level that lead to coastal flooding. The Greenhouse Effect, it was called--though the world's

land masses weren't quite green anymore.

_____And where the world wasn't covered with blue-green ocean or the scrubby dirt of

the wastelands, entire regions were mechanized and industrialized. For hundreds of miles,

landscapes were covered with concrete and decorated with gigantic metal structures with pipes

going into the ground and and smokestacks fuming smoke into the air--all of it humming

machinery...

_____Of course, people had to work the machines. People lived with the machines. People

lived alongside them, living within concrete-and-metal buildings and walking the hard streets.

These were machine-cities....

_____The people who lived in these cities were almost machines themselves. Many

people have had their bodies replaced with synthetics: metals, polymers, ceramics and

electromechanics. By the time such processes were done, all but their brains were robotic.

And in some cases, the "enhancements" went farther--into the brain.

_____It was the way people lived nowadays. They lived with it, going about their

darkened lives as best as they could. Tired and exhausted, they lived on. These people

worked the factories. These people worked the shops. And if their bodies were not

wasted or ruined by the toxicity, some of them worked the street corners. Anything to earn

enough money to eat and live with...

_____Lissette frowned. THIS was the kind of world she "lived" in. The rulers of yesterday,

they were to blame. Destroying the world with pollution and war-time explosions until

there was not much world left. They ruined the world and did not clean up the aftermath.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, they set a machine-god in a floating city to look over

this world of.. Of...! A world of LEFTOVERS. Humanity made machines, and now machines

conquered humanity--conquered to the point where machines infiltrated the human body.

_____Nobody's fault. The world was nobody's fault. And it would continue to be nobody's

blame to take on. This was a world that was dying and rusting--a machine that was left

uncared for: a vast, hulking machine--a large, rusting machine that barely worked--that

ought not work, but it did. It worked for now, though now would not be forever.

_____All the while, Lissette thought that there was no damned reason for that damned

computer put up in the sky to make things any harder than they had to be! Human beings

were suffering as it was. Having to work in toxic factories, breathing polluted air, living

with the extreme heat and the cold...! And then, there was the way human beings treated

each other. What, with all the random spates of bloody violence, was the present system

of "law enforcement" at all useful, the usage of semi-professional bounty hunters? Damn

it, those bastards were just as nasty as the lawbreakers they were paid to kill! All of the

pollution and pain and heat! And the computer in the sky calmly looks above it all...!

Ooh! It just made her so MAD!

_____She clenched her fine hands into hard fists, her dark eyes glinting. Oh, how

GLAD she was that she started the Parasol Club to hack the Network--keeping the

Network out of THIS sector of the city. It was better to be ruled by an organized crime

syndicate than a whacked-out ultra-computer in some damned floating city, hundreds

of miles away. Yes, the Feng-Long Society ruled this sector of the city well, letting

vices flow in a regulated manner--with a good understanding of human nature as they

managed business.

_____Joel saw the intense look on Lissette's face, saw the way she sat with back straight

and body rigid. She looked ready to destroy someone--or something. Lissette's positive

traits weren't limited to just good looks and savviness with computers; she was also an

excellent kick boxer. Against cyborgs, full-flesh humans, or mutants, it didn't matter.

_____He was once walking the uptown streets with her when a big cyborg made a grab

at Lissette's butt, trying to cop a feel. That was a mistake. By the time Lissette was done

with him, that cyborg had to drag--pull--himself away with his remaining functional arm.

To think, a full-flesh human girl was able to beat a cyborg--unarmed. Lissette was really

something.

...

2.

...

_____Elsewhere within this protected sector of the city, there was a rather high-classed

bar in the downtown area. During the nights, one could buy the best of drinks and have

conversations with some of the more-influential members of this city's executive class.

Gentle music would waft throughout the dimly lit and richly furnished place as there was

the low murmur of conversation.

_____But as this was morning, so all of the regular customers--executives of the Feng-Long

Society--were away on business. The polished brown formica-topped tables gleamed from

the chandelier-style lighting, and there were no conversationalists seated--no music being

played. The muscular, bald bartender was here, sleeves rolled up muscular arms--cleaning

drinking glasses behind the drinking bar.

_____There was just one "customer" here, a lithe, red-haired young woman named Sera--though

she was as much an employee as a patron. As some executives were busy often, they seldom

had time to form firm relationships with others. That was where women like Sera came in,

providing what was politely known as "comfort" to lonely men who needed "alleviation" for

their--uh--pent-up stresses.

_____ Though she had been doing this job for three years now, Sera did not take on the look

women in her profession eventually developed. She did not walk around scantily clad, nor

did she put on too much makeup. This was though other women told her that a little makeup

and a change of outfits could really improve her income. She refused.

_____She recalled that her customers told her that she needed none of that; she had a certain

kind of prettiness to her that didn't necessarily needed such "enhancing." Big dark eyes set in

a pretty face, her long red hair flowed down her slim back--almost down to the double curves

of her firm hips. She dressed her beautiful body in simple clothing--sleeveless blouse and

knee-length skirt. Her clients knew what to look for; they had heard of her, ah... "Talent."

_____Yes, she had "talent!" Ha-ha...! She gave a bitter little laugh, stopped when the bartender

looked at her. But he left her alone to her troubles. As one of the topmost prostitutes, she was a

valuable asset to the Feng-Long Society. To think, she even saw herself as just being meat

sometimes. Like now. Meat--sexy flesh. Maybe she was just something that the bored executives

fucked and paid. Not that she found her job too uncomfortable; it was easy after the first few times.

It just felt degrading--a prolonged and slow humiliation.

_____"Hey Sera... You alright there?" asked the bartender, standing nearby. He carefully set

down one of the drinking mugs he'd been cleaning. "I like serving drinks to customers, but not

up to when they're DROWNING." He looked around. "You know what? I don't like to see

pretty young ladies looking all sad."

_____"Yes, I'm pretty, aren't I?" she said, a look of disguist on her face--as if the word "pretty"

tasted nasty. "Funny, I'm feeling a little bit anti-pretty. A little dirty. I don't feel like this all

of the time, of course. Just...sometimes." She crossed her legs the other way, adjusting her

perching seat atop her stool. "Maybe if some bastards thought my parents were just as pretty,

they wouldn't have... Oh, never mind. It's not your problem."

_____The bartender shook his head. He knew about Sera. He knew about how things were for

her. About what happened to too many people--around the time that the Network was disconnected

from this sector. There was an extremely tough adjustment time for a while--riots, murders and

whatnot...until people became wise to the fact that the Feng-Long Society wouldn't tolerate that

sort of behavior in this sector of the city. That was why they hired enforcers. Also, the threat of

being sent outside, out to any of the bordering Network-run sectors, was enough to keep people

in line.

...

_____At another bar, a significantly rougher-looking drinking place, some other people were

drinking--plenty of people. No music playing, but the din of conversation would have covered

up the music anyway.

_____"Ain't had enough yet..." said Carbon, the big cyborg in work-clothes, his round-tanked

metal belly bulging within his coveralls. The expression on his chubby artificial face was bland, a

look of boredom. So he reached down to the plate in front of him, his left metal hand closing over

a meaty hamburger. What kind of meat? Well, you didn't ask that sort of question. "Damn, these

burgers got NO taste to 'em." Munch-munch-munch... BELCH!

_____Someone else at this restaurant table laughed--a skinny cyborg in a tailored business suit.

"Ha-ha-ha...! Are you, you know... YOU KNOW!" He looked around, then spoke in a low

and conspirational tone. "Are you HUNGRY? Ha-ha! YOU KNOW! YOU KNOW! That other

cyborg elbowed the third one seated at this table. "Is he HUNGRY?"

_____"Quit it, Rafter!" went the next cyborg--one in floppy clothes. He was named Gale.

"Anyway... Yeah, sounds like you're HUNGRY," he agreed. "So, when do we, uh, EAT? I

want a little extra something to eat, too."

_____The skinny cyborg grimaced. "HEE-HA! But I REFUSE to eat off of the street! I want

some real home food! The kind that's in homes!"

_____Big Carbon shrugged. "Alright. I hear you. We can go for some real home cookin'. Just

step on in and grab some bites to eat. Fresh meat--really fresh meat, y'all. The kinda' meat

that's so damned FRESH that it ain't even headed for the store shelves yet."

_____"But... Hee-hee! Wouldn't it be great if that kind of meat WAS?" chuckled Rafter.

"Oh yes, it really would be convenient, having that sort of meat on the shelves. Then we

wouldn't have to go out and catch. it. And the quality would be more..."

_____"Nope, NOW you're goin' too danged far, buddy," interrupted the big-bellied cyborg.

"We get our eats as we get 'em. Ain't got no problems with the pickin's in this here city. Know

what I mean? Now let's go GET some."

...

_____Sera's walk home was extremely lonely and disorienting. She managed to stay generally

straight and balanced as she walked along the downtown sidewalk, staying near the center.

But sometimes, she would swoon and swerve. A shake of her head, and she would move on.

No, it wasn't just slight intoxication; it was exhaustion.

_____As usual, she had gone almost the entire night without sleep. She had to keep her client

entertained, and he took plenty of entertaining to keep occupied. Damn, did those bastards

take stimulant pills before they came to her? Dumb question, of COURSE they did. They took

all sorts of wake-up pills to stay awake and active! Hell, all the drugs were legal in this sector

of the city--even the ones few people had ever even heard of.

_____Maybe she should try some. Some kind of stimulant... Caffeine? Rush pills? But Sera

didn't want to risk damaging herself. She was lucky enough to still have a real body. All of

her was real. But if she were to become sick, if the level of toxic contamination within her

body were to reach a certain point, she would have to...

_____She had to stop walking for a second, swaying on her feet. No, Sera did not want to

become a cyborg. Having a real body was the only way she could make money now. And,

damn it, she was GOOD at what she did. One of the best! If her body was injured, then

there would be surgery to replace flesh parts with artificial ones.

_____She could not have that! Taking a deep breath of the city air, she coughed once--and

moved on. Though the sidewalk seemed to sway as she walked, the red-haired girl managed

not to fall over. By now, she should be used to this. She wasn't. Walking the sidewalk after

too much time without sleep never really became easier.

_____Then, the wind began to blow more. It seemed to make a rushing hush throughout here

and the nearby street. It was really how-w-wling... Whoop! She was nearly knocked over,

the wind whipping at her hair and clothes. What a damned nasty breeze.

_____But then, for just a moment, Sera felt something was very wrong. Something was not

right with everything. Nausea swirling in her head, she stopped for a moment at a street corner.

Putting a hand to a streetlamp, she thought back. Was there anything she had forgotten?

Was there anything wrong? Was anything SAID to be going wrong? No...

_____No, not at all. She could remember nothing about anything being wrong. Nothing

should have been wrong. She served another client, and then she would collect her share of

the fee from Mr. Yin. This should just feel like another day, really. So why did she feel the

way she did? No reason. Just another one of those moments.

_____So she walked on, the wind still pulling at her hair and blowing in her ears. It was a weird

kind of headache: a screaming headache! It felt as if there were hundreds of invisible people all

howling and screaming from very far away. No, this had to be a side-effect of the pills she'd

taken to stay awake--or try to stay awake. And the pills weren't working anymore.

_____"Uh-h-h!" she grunted, her hands going to her head. Another swirling wave of

sickening dizziness hit her, and she nearly fainted--unconsciousness threatening to overcome

her brain. No, it would not be good to fall to the sidewalk--where strangers would do things

to her body while she was out. Though recognized as an important resource of the Feng-Long

society, that protection only went so far.

_____She may be just property. But oh, she was VALUABLE property! "Ha ha ha..." she

laughed, feeling somewhat better. Squinting against the swirling sickness in her head, she

looked right and left. Yes, it seemed safe to cross this street. So, she did. And she went the

rest of the way back to her apartment.

_____Someone was watching Sera. Unseen, this observer followed the red-haired girl as she

continued to walk the city sidewalk. With the wind blowing the way it was, Sera would not

be able to hear who was following--unless... No, that was not a worry. This observer would

not be seen unless he wanted to be. But if Sera were able to listen well enough, she would

hear him.

_____She did not. She was not able to hear the presence of whatever--or whoever--was

following her as she made her way home. If Sera were to run into any trouble, this observer

was to NOT interfere. What he would do was clean up certain things and take things away.

He was, after all, the Janitor.

...

3.

...

_____This apartment building was on the edge of the downtown area--a tall and wide building

with a gabled red roof. On one side, balconies oversaw the streets from all the floors.

Though not outrageously expensive, the apartments here were quite pricey. The price of rent

was beyond the affordability of most workers; the renters here were primarily low-level

executives and middle-managers of the Feng-Long Society.

_____But Sera had the money to live here, money from the work she did. That was what

mattered. That she was seen as a valued asset was another reason for her being able to live

here. At the double-doored entrance, she stepped in--coming into the shiny floored foyer.

Though feeling dead-tired, she waved a greeting at the blue-suited concierge at the right--

sitting behind his office window set in the wall.

_____She went to the elevator and stepped in, thinking about how lonely and slow the

concierge's job was--keeping the entranceway clear of potential troublemakers and keeping

it clean. He usually read newsprints to pass the time. Still, it must be a slow job.

_____The elevator hummed to a halt, opening on the third floor. Her apartment was a few

doors to the left. Just some more walking to go. Body aching and head dizzy, and she could

rest until around noon. It was still the weekday, and she wouldn't be able to meet her

family's greetings. Her family loved her, but... Just so tired...

_____Coming to the door, she clicked the right sequence of numbers on the mechanical

combination pad to unlock her apartment door, and she was able to open it. Beyond the

door was the carpeted luxury of home.

...

_____A nice apartment, this was a nice place. There was a living room here, when one first

came in. Well-furnished, with two armchairs, a couch, and a radio set against the

painting-decorated pale-blue walls. The kitchenette was past one of the doors, over across

the room. As for the bathrooms and two bedrooms, one would just go left and walk through

a short hallway at the side.

_____Her little brother and sister, along with the nanny, were in the kitchenette...who came

RUNNING out and into the living room. Both were small and elfin-faced, blonde: fraternal

twins, boy and girl. Unusual, since Sera herself was a natural red-head. Not much older than

four years old, it was very difficult to tell the difference between the two--Jefty and Jane.

_____These little twins wrapped their arms around her legs--because that was as high as they

could reach. "SERA! SERA! You're HOME! YAY...!" they cheered, loving it whenever

she came back. Because, they were always afraid that there would come a day when she

wouldn't return.

_____A big wide matronly woman came strutting out of the kitchenette, her brown hair tied

up in a functional hairdo, her billowing pink clothes neat and wrinkle-free. She was Martha,

the nanny that watched--and even tutored--the children while Sera was gone...which was most

of the day. This big friendly woman came walking over to here, a look of sadness on her face.

"Hello, Miss Sera. You must be tired, as usual. There's a nice big cup of hot coffee and..."

_____"No, Martha. I just want to sleep..." said Sera, stooping slightly to touch the small

shoulders of her little brother and sister. They wriggled with glee and hugged tighter. But she

had to gently push their hugs away. "Jefty and Jane... I love you, but please let me sleep... I'm

so tired."

_____Wide-eyed and respectful, the two small children stepped back--hands folded. Not

that Sera had ever struck them in anger or punishment, they still respected her wishes. They

did not know exactly what Sera did to earn her money, but they just knew that she worked

very hard for them.

_____And she hoped they never knew what she had to do for money. Nodding once, she

began stepping towards the way to her bedroom--staggering. Martha rushed to help. Sera

had to be led to her own door and into her own bed. The young lady was asleep as soon as

her body laid atop the bed. A deep sleep... She heard nothing but an ususual sound of wind

from an oncoming dream.

...

_____Sera believed that she had lied down in bed. She THOUGHT that she was going to sleep.

No, something else was now happening. Instead of lying down, Sera felt herself being carried

somewhere else... But where? And who was taking her? How was she being carried? And

why was it so dark? She was going somewhere... Somewhere else.

_____She then felt solid flooring beneath her shoes. But she could not see around. No, that

wasn't right. If she stared hard enough, some things were visible--just barely. There were

indistinguishable shapes and figures in the very dim lighting of this strange room. Some of

those shapes resembled people. Were they people? Or were they statues.

_____FLICK! A white spotlight suddenly a bright circle in this darkness, revealing what

looked to be a circular table, made out of wood. It was a deep rich brown color, shiny

and polished. Just outside of the spotlight, there were two seats. But, set so far back from

the table itself, the seats must not have been placed for dining. Then came the sounds.

_____Was someone sweeping the floor? It was that whispery sweeping sort of sound--the slight

swish-swish of a broom sweeping across a polished and shiny floor. Sera imagined the broom's

brush of bristles moving effortlessly across the solid surface. It sounded like wind. And the sound

was coming from beyond that table.

_____Stepping into the spotlight was a very strong-looking man in blue work clothes--blue

coveralls and buttoned work shirt, brown shoes on his feet. The bill of his blue soft cap

shadowed his face. His strong-veined hands clutched the broomstick hoisted over his right

shoulder. And he stood there by the table, standing in the light.

_____If there were sweeping sounds, then who was sweeping? The sounds of sweeping were

coming from the Janitor's direction. But no one else seemed to have a broom. What was

going on here? Why was this happening? Something was very, very wrong here...

_____"Ha-ha-ha-a-a...!" came a melodic laugh, a beautiful woman's careless laugh. There

was a sudden RUSH of air. Suddenly, someone was standing atop the circular brown table--

a woman dressed in white gown. "You don't know why, but you will know what!" declared

the pale woman.

_____As Sera's eyes adjusted, she could see that the woman was not entirely covered in white

cloth. Rather, the gown was the same color of her smooth, pale skin. The gown was actually

silken and sleeveless, flowing over the woman's slender figure. Her pale-blonde hair was

combed as so it framed her sharp-featured face. But the eyes... Large red eyes regarded

Sera.

_____"I know of the cinnamon." said that strange-eyed woman standing atop the table. She

spread out her pale slender arms, fingers outstretched. "I know of where the cinnamon flows

locally. And, oh HOW it will flow."

_____Sera would have shaken her head, but she did not want to seem rude. Somehow, she

had the idea that this woman was extremely important. "Excuse me? I don't understand.

What do you mean? Cinnamon? Is someone hungry?"

_____"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the pale woman before talking more nonsense. "People are hungry."

Her voice deepened, taking on a more more sinister tone. "And then, they bring the cinnamon

to darken what you have. A far sprinkling for all of what you are in, of what you are." She

smiled. "Did you not know that oatmeal can have hunger as well?"

_____"I still do not understand..." insisted Sera. "Why are we talking about food?" Looking

into those big staring red orbs was somewhat unsettling, but she kept eye contact. "Please,

tell me what you mean."

_____CRACK! The Janitor STRUCK the hard floor with the tip of his broomstick. The

sound was surprisingly loud. Though his face wasn't quite clear, being shadowed by his hat,

he seemed angry by the question. Maybe, Sera should be more careful with what she said.

_____"I say what it will mean," insisted the woman in white. "But what I say is not just in the

sounds. It's in what I'm saying, not the way I sound... Ha-ha-ha!" She pointed to Sera. "Your

bowl is not the only one to be damaged. You will need a shallow gray pan soon, but it will

hold what you have."

_____"A gray pan?" asked Sera. There was something in what the woman there said. But

she didn't quite get it. These were verbal riddles that she would just have to figure out. And

if she did...

_____"Back through the breeze!" declared that pale woman standing atop the table. The

Janitor then began moving in this direction. He shifted his broom over to his left shoulder as

his right hand reached towards Sera--and everything went dark. The sound of wind blowing...

...

_____She sat up! Looking around, her breathing slowly relaxed. This was her bedroom. This

was not that dark and strange "other" place she had dreamed about. Yes, it was just a dream.

But it seemed so REAL. Sera remembered everything there as if she had actually left and

went to that place. It WAS a dream, she insisted silently to herself. Just a dream. Trouble

was, no dream she had before was so damned clear. Well, being awake, she had to go see

Mr. Yin.

...

4.

...

_____That same trio of cyborgs--Gale, Rafter and Carbon--were now sitting on the couch of an

apartment. They had beer bottles in their hands and looks of satisfied stupor on their bloodied

synthetic faces. The large-bellied one in coveralls belched, swigged a bit from his beer bottle,

then snorted. "Damn, it ain't good to eat like this ALL the time... But when we do eat like

this... Look out, world!" BELCH! "Whoo-wee!"

_____Seated to his left was Rafter, dressed in his business suit. He licked his red-dipped metal

fingers. "Hee-hee-hee! It's fine domestic cooking. Hee-hee! Oops, we didn't COOK them,

did we? Just ate those suckers RAW!"

_____By "them," the skinny one was talking about the people they had eaten--or mostly eaten.

Now, what had once been a human couple was now a bloody, chunky low pile of mutilated

remains set in front of this couch. And the remains were barely recognizable as human

now. Most all of the skin and meat had been removed from the two torsoes, male and female both.

The limbs had been torn away, similarly chewed and mutilated. The long, thick and ropey intestines

were drawn out from the abdomens--from when the three cyborgs had went for the meatier organs.

_____"God-DAMN! What a feast!" loudly declared Gale, dressed in his floppy clothes.

"Ha-ha-a-a! Ever notice how old people taste a little bit like factory smoke and watery

hamburger meat? It weird, you know?" He leaned forward from the couch to take a chunk

from the dead pile of meat, chewed on it. Followed that up with a hit of beer from his bottle.

"Yeah, I think the taste's there..."

_____"Quit bein' a dumb-ass," said the big-bellied cyborg in work clothes. "It's the BEER

that tastes like that, you shit-for-brains! You know how it is... Most everybody drinks the damned

CONTAMINATED liquid mess bottled down here. An' those old folks we just ate must've

been drinkin' it for years." He paused. "The stuff normally sent up to Zalem is clean... Well,

mostly clean."

_____"Yeah, but who ever said we send OUR stuff up to 'em!" said the skinny one. He held

up his current bottle of beer, the body of the bottle smeared with drying, darkened blood. "Of

course, we important people don't hafta' drink the damned nasty local stuff. Bleah!" Swish...

THUMP! He bounced the beer bottle off the low pile of dead meat. "Before we ate those

freaks, they should've bought some REAL beer."

_____"What the fuck?" went the big cyborg. "I know we just ate 'em. But, DAMN! Have

some respect for the dead. Would you want somebody disrespectin' YOUR fuckin' corpse like

that? Throwin' beer bottles an' all!" BU-R-R-RP!

_____The living room door opened. There stood a plain-faced, brown-haired man in wrinkled

tee-shirt and blue jeans. Though stained with chemicals, the clothes were clean. And there he

stood. Not moving.

_____Apparently, the scene was taking a little while for the newcomer's shaken mind to process.

He saw three bloodied strangers sitting on his parents' couch--one of the strangers skinny, the next

one in floppy clothes, and the third being really big and hefty. In front of them was a pile of meat.

But only one kind of meat could take on shapes of that sort. And that looked to be about two

torsoes mixed in with other chunks of flesh... Two dead, here. That meant... That meant he had

chosen to visit his parents at a very bad time.

_____"GRAB THAT ASS!" shouted the great big cyborg. The skinny one and the floppy

clothes one both moved wind-fast, getting their metal hands on the man standing at the doorway.

They SNATCHED the newcomer into here. The big one slammed the door while his two partners

began tearing at the man, horrible and bloody sounds of ripping and grunting of clothes and flesh.

_____"We ain't ordered any food delivery, but it looks like some came anyway!" said big Carbon.

"Comin' in all LATE! We ain't payin' you, guy! In fact, we're gonna take the pay--outta your

hide! Haw-haw-haw...!"

_____The look of shock on the man's face was slowly fading as his body was being ripped.

There was no neatness at all to the way he was being killed, having entire pieces of meat just

being ripped from his body and limbs. But he was caring less and less. There seemed to be no

pain now, just a slow acceptance of his oncoming death. If the parents that raised him were dead,

then maybe he did not want to be alive, either. He could hear a gentle wind as he sank into

death.

_____"Look at this!" ranted Rafter, kneeling clutching and shaking a chunk of the man's flesh.

"THIS is good quality meat, probably some mid-level factory working flunky. And he came

AFTER we ate. That's timing for you! Argh!" Thwunch! He swung a punch at the dead man's

jaw, which collapsed from the hit. Flesh and bone is weaker than metal.

_____"Yeah, bad timing," added Carbon, walking around to the left side of the dead man. He

booted the bloodied torso. "Makes me wonder why the Hell the execs don't have better food

available for all of the citizens. It'd make for better pickings--even off the street."

_____"Huh, probably..." went Carbon. "But I ain't gonna be the one proposin' ideas. What

we're doin' is a little bit naughty, anyhow. Don't want people gettin' any ideas." He shrugged.

But we done had our fill...for now.

_____"Hee-hee-he-eea-a! HELL yeah!" agreed skinny Rafter. "Makes me wonder about

what we're gonna eat the next time we do somethin' like this." He looked down at the red-ruined

corpse of the brown-haired man. "And you know what? I'm tired of eating low-classed working

trash. Their bodies are so damned contaminated from working the local factories that they all have

that chemical sort of taste to 'em. Especially in their kidneys!" He stepped away from the dead

body. "Why can't I get a really good hunk of liver?" He then quickly crouched down by the

face of the corpse, shouted into that dead-eyed stare. "YOU! Why can't you people keep

your livers from tasting so nasty? HUH? If you weren't already dead, I'd KILL you! Just

because I think you'd taste nasty!"

_____"Buddy, give the dead man a break!" chided Carbon. At times, he felt the need to

keep his two partners from losing their self-control. "He's alread deader than a dog's corpse in

a meat grinder. What more do you want from'em, huh?"

_____"I want him to STOP STARING! Yech!" blurted Rafter. He then removed two fingers from

a dead hand and stuck them in the eyeballs. Now, the two severed fingers protruded from the eye

sockets like the eyestalks of a snail.

_____"Now THAT was uncalled for," continued Carbon. "We just had our fill, and we ate what

we wanted to eat. No more than that... Heh-heh... Didn't your mamma ever tell you not to play

with your food?"

_____Rafter took on an angry look. "Carbon, what the fuck is WRONG with you today?

You've always been preachy. Now you're all about making sermons, speeches and shit. Since

when did guilt ever stop us from having a little fun with the little people? Besides, we're

ENFORCERS! We're the attack dogs of the Feng Long Society. They EXPECT us to

get a little vicious with with the locals ever so often! It keeps these full-flesh bastards in

line." He looked around. "Since there aren't any God-damned bounty hunters in this

sector of the city, who the fuck else is going to keep the shit-bag losers in line? US!

We're the lawmen! What the..."

_____Thwack...CRASH! A mighty swing of Carbon's right fist, an uppercut, and Rafter was

knocked up--close to the ceiling. He came back down--landing on his wild-haired head. He

blinked hard, trying to see through the ringing pain from the blow.

_____"Shit-brain! Don't you EVER get in my face again! I say what I wanna say, and skinny

fuck-ups like you can't stop me! In fact, don't even TRY to stop me! If I want your opinion,

I'll beat it into you! Get me? Or do you need a little more correction?"

_____Getting up slowly to a kneeling position, Rafter looked up at the mountainous,

big-bellied cyborg. For a time, there were no words said. There was the sound of wind

outside, blowing outside of the door--a howling sort of wind.

_____"Jeez! Alright, alright! I gotcha! But did you have to hit me so hard? I swear, I'd

think you were trying to kill me! Hee-hee-hee...!"

_____Carbon shrugged. "Hmmph. You're really asking for it, asshole. And you'll be asking for

some MORE if you try me one more time, buddy." He looked over to Gale, standing near this

wall. "What's up with you?"

_____Gale stepped away from the wall. "I thought I heard somebody else outside... Footsteps.

Footsteps mixed with the sound of the wind. Like somebody was walking nearby or something.

Know what I mean?"

_____"What the fuck?" went Carbon. "That's crazy talk! I ain't heard NOTHIN'! And Rafter

ain't heard nothin' either! Ain't that right, bitch?" He saw Rafter give quick and silly nods of

agreement. "See? Even my trained asshole here ain't heard shit. And assholes are good at

hearing shit!"

_____"No..." said Gale, a worried look on his face. "Something was wrong with those footsteps.

Something was up with that guy. I just got this feeling... Like somebody was coming to get

us and regulate us."

_____"HEE-HEE!" giggle Rafter. "I think you should stop smoking all of that crazy mess

they sell at the bars! Some of that stuff will fuck up parts of your brain permanently... And

you can't buy a new brain..." He paused. "Nah, my mistake! You CAN buy a new brain!

Of course, the new brain wouldn't necessarily be YOU--just a replacement chip. But in

your case, who'd know the difference?"

_____"Listen to me, man! I'm SERIOUS!" said Gale. "I got this feeling that somebody's

been starting to watch us. But now, that feeling is REALLY getting into me. It's really damned

strong now."

_____"FEELINGS!" sang Rafter. "FEELINGS! NOTHING BUT FEELINGS... MAKE

ME FEEL WARM INSIDE!" Thwack! A back-handed slap from a metal hand! "Aw damn,

Carbon! You didn't have to HIT me! Ya just could've told me to shut up."

_____"Okay. Shut up," said Carbon. "Gale. For once, Rafter's right. Maybe it's some of

the...stuff you use. How long have you been fooling with some of that crazy mess? Two years?

Three years? "

_____"Six years," corrected Gale, "as far as I can remember. Started doing some stuff when

I first became a cyborg. But none of it was serious. None of it's addictive. Just exploration."

_____"Hah! 'Exploration' my ass!" countered Carbon. "About the only thing you'll be exploring

is the inside of a trash can when they throw out your drugged up, fucked up brain and recycle

your body for parts!"

_____"Yeah! Hee-hee!" giggled Rafter. "Just hope they let you keep your eyeballs when

they toss you into the trash! Can't do any real exploring if you don't know where you are!"

WHACK! "God-damn! That HURT like a mother-fucker... Do it again!"