Eclipse
by DoraMouse
ooxoo
Blaze: June 6th, 763 A.D.
Doctor. It was a vague title often associated with health care. Doctors, it was widely believed, were people who worked in hospitals. But this was not wholly true. Anyone who completed an eight year program of study at a college or university earned a Doctorate degree. So there were Doctors of Art. Doctors of History. Doctors of Language. Doctors who would, essentially, never work in a hospital. Dr. Gero had studied geology. He had been, in his own words, a rock doctor. A cheerful young man full of ideas and ideals. A mountain climber and explorer of caves. He'd been somewhat popular in college but basically unheard of in the world of professional science since very few people on Earth had shared his interest in carbon dating and testing soil samples.
And then, shortly after his graduation, he had become famous. Not for long. Not for any scientific discovery. There had been a terrible traffic accident. And young Dr. Gero had survived it. Kind of.
The doctors - the hospital sort - had not been able to save his legs. So there he had been. Mid-thirties and stuck in a wheelchair. No more rock climbing. No more exploring caves. No more walking or running or standing still. His cheerful personality had vanished almost as quickly as his job prospects. In a wheelchair he could do labwork or teaching but...
Gero had always been a very stubborn man. A perfectionist, even. Not being able to stand up was, in his mind, imperfect. He could not tolerate such a flaw. So he'd done some studying and had persuaded some of his old college chums to help him experiment. And this was what had made Dr. Gero truly famous: the artificial limb. Hospitals had told him that he would never walk again. Yet here he was, nearly seventy years old. Standing straight and proud. Walking without a cane or a limp. Granted, the legs that he walked upon weren't natural but he had invented them and that made it okay.
There were many benefits to having artificial legs. Lack of pain, for example. Dr. Gero could stub his toe or drop a bowling ball on his foot and never feel anything, never even have a bruise. His legs couldn't bleed or break or grow weaker with age. They were comfortable, flexible and durable. If he wanted to be taller or shorter for a while then he could adjust a few things and viola.
In retrospect, Dr. Gero viewed the terrible traffic accident in which he had lost his legs as something of a blessing in disguise.
He thought of androids in much the same light. The potential! If Dr. Gero had his way then the future would be an android utopia. He could pass it off as cosmetic surgery - people were so vain and insecure. They would pay him for the operation. Why not? Why should artificial limbs only be available to people who had lost their natural set? Artificial limbs were so much better! Perfection! The parts would never age or grow weary. People would look young and beautiful all their lives. Everyone. And with a little bit of programming thrown in at no extra charge... He could make people believe whatever he wanted. He could create the sort of culture that he had always seen in science fiction books and movies. A world of gentle, educated people. A world without crime, disease or environmental crisis. A world without harmful traffic accidents. A world that he, Dr. Gero, could be proud of. A perfect world.
No one was going to take this vision away from him. Not the less-than-perfect androids 9 through 12. Not the escaped genetic children or the missing Red Ribbon agents. Not the warriors of the Earths Special Forces. Not the media. Not the World Government. Not Capsule Corporation.
No. One.
Dr. Gero had worked too hard, too long. He had good intentions. He honestly thought that he was acting in the Earths best interests. He viewed the future as an android utopia... And he would find a way to make that future happen, whether or not the rest of the world approved.
The people of Earth would thank him someday, when they finally understood what a favor he was doing them. Dr. Gero didn't expect that to happen in his lifetime though. The truly brilliant people on Earth - he considered himself one of these - were never understood in their own lifetimes.
Dr. Gero stood with his hands folded behind his back. Watching, watching... The television screen in front of him. It was small and the sound was muted but the image was clear and Dr. Gero soon saw what he'd been waiting to see. The stock market prices. Included in the list was a new stock, represented by the initals RRI. Dr. Gero smiled. Red Ribbon, INC. The plan was moving forward.
ooxoo
"What about you?"
The speaker was a young woman with pale blue hair and matching eyes. She wore loose clothes - jeans and a lightweight sweater - that complimented her flawless figure. Her skin had a pale tint to it. In truth, she was a bit too flawless. She looked like something that had been sculpted.
She had been.
This was Android 12. She sat on the passenger side of a parked aircar, pausing to make faces between sips of coffee.
"Eh." A handsome young man sat in the drivers seat and regarded his coffee cup with mild indifference. He had long dark hair and equally black eyes. This was Android 11. "No. I don't get it either."
"Well, they can't be drinking it for the taste." Android 12 remarked as she crumpled the paper cup in her hand and tossed it over her shoulder.
Mission number one. Act natural. Blend in with regular people.
It was harder than it sounded but the two androids were coping. They had new clothes, a nice shiny aircar and had tried to drink a cup of coffee. They paid for things instead of stealing. They did not wear the Red Ribbon logo. They had even picked out normal sounding names - but they didn't use their 'human' names around each other.
"Any progress?" Android 12 inquired.
Mission number two. Surveillance.
"Yes." Android 11 smiled and unzipped enough of his jacket to show off the shirt beneath. It was a pale yellow shirt with cursive red text on it. The top half of a uniform.
He had been hired. By a professional baseball team. And everyone there had noticed that he happened to look an awful lot like someone already on that team. Which was, of course, the point. Android 11 was entrusted with keeping tabs on the warriors of Earths Special Forces. If he could befriend even one of the warriors then perhaps he would be able to learn about the others. Names, ages, addresses, weaknesses, how they had come back from the dead. That sort of thing.
Android 12 had a similar mission. She was doing surveillance of Capsule Corp, learning everything she could about both the company and its employees. The fact that she resembled Bulma Briefs meant that she could wander in and out as she pleased.
"Hm." Android 12 nodded her approval because the words wouldn't come. It was odd. She was programmed for loyalty. She enjoyed her job. She was dedicated to her mission and grateful to Red Ribbon for creating her. But some living piece of her mind - a small battered organic part beyond the computer chips - hated being the shadow of someone else. She wanted her own life.
The car phone rang once. Both androids stared at it expectantly. When the phone eventually rang again, 12 picked up.
"Name, rank and serial number?"
"Is that how normal people answer the phone?" wondered Android 10.
Android 12 blinked, "I'll have to research that."
"Negative. It's irrelevant." Since he was not humanoid enough to easily blend in, Android 10 had been given a separate mission. He was hunting the escaped genetics. "Got one. Need you to meet me at coordinates - "
12 nodded, repeating the coordinates aloud while 11 revved the aircar engine. Somewhere, deep down in their programming, was the industrial protocol for driving. Which was a good thing. Because androids couldn't fly. Yet.
ooxoo
Two months ago, the Crane Master had died.
Ranshin did not mourn the loss. She couldn't. She didn't feel as if her former sensei had actually left. There was the ghostly red bird after all. She'd looked it up in a encyclopedia. It was a crane, a ghostly red crane. And she'd been vaguely aware of the creature for nearly a month before she'd gotten a good look at it.
And that had been a month ago. Since then... The floodgates had opened, so to speak.
One little girl standing on the sidewalk, her dark indigo hair tied back in a single braid and her three eyes open wide. She was age four, almost five, and dressed in casual clothes. But she was strong enough to defend herself and smart enough to do chores. Like going to the local market to get a freshly baked loaf of bread.
The sidewalk was crowded but people made space for her. Ranshin was given sideways glances and a wide berth where ever she went. No one approached to ask where her parents were. No one tried to escort her home. No one came near her. She was talking to someone. Listening to someone. Someone that nobody around her could see or hear. Maybe she had a phone headset on? Maybe she had a mental illness? But... That didn't explain...
Ranshin focused her attention on a random person walking past her. She looked the bewildered stranger in the eyes. "I'm supposed to tell you happy birthday." Ranshin said.
"You are?" The stranger stopped in his tracks, sounding cautious and surprised. He didn't know this child. How could she have known that ... ?
"Yea." Ranshin let a second slide past in reflective silence then abruptly asked. "Your mom died a while ago, huh?"
Stunned silence.
"Kind of a tall lady, curly white hair and big hoop earrings?" Ranshin prompted. "Died of a heart problem?"
"Er. Yes, actually."
"Well, she wants me to tell you happy birthday." Ranshin shrugged. "And she wishes that you would clean out your sock drawer once in a while. And for heavens sake, call your brother."
Stunned silence again.
The traffic signal changed, flashing a green light in the shape of a walking person for pedestrians. Ranshin crossed the street without saying goodbye to the stranger. Instead she spoke to the empty air beside her. "Look - I can't help it if people don't believe me." She shook her head, "I know. I'm sorry. But I can't make people call their brothers."
Needless to say, Ranshins view of the world was undergoing a rather severe transformation. In her eyes... The 'real' world and the spirit world were merging. Becoming one and the same. Ghosts were as visible as living creatures.
This was, technically, how Ranshin should have been seeing the world since birth. This was what happened when a child who hadn't outgrown their natural psychic talents had a third eye. So Ranshin was becoming accustomed to seeing creatures who, despite looking solid, could float. And walk through walls. And all those other ghostly tricks. She was getting used to having strangers come up and start talking to her - because ghosts seemed to realize that she could hear them. She was getting used to turning around and telling strangers who were alive that their dead friends, relatives and pets had messages for them.
She could not turn it off. She had never learned to tune it out. Ranshin hardly took ten steps anymore without pausing to wish a stranger happy birthday or something similar.
Because of all this... When Ranshin walked past an alley on her way back to the dojo with a loaf of fresh bread, she didn't completely believe what she'd seen in the alley. It had to have been a trick of the imagination. She couldn't have really seen...
A flash of orange lit up the alleyway now behind her.
Ranshin did her best to ignore the ghosts vying for her attention and ran back. She crouched in the entrance of the alley. Still clutching the bread bag in one hand, she began creeping forward with deliberate slowness so that her approach made no sound.
Android 10 stood with a large weapon pointed downward. Ranshin wasn't close enough to see what he was aiming at. The barrel of the weapon jerked forward and then back as it fired. Whatever type of gun this was, it had a silencer on it. Android 10 snorted and pressed a button on his upper arm - the one that wasn't a massive gun - and waited for a dial tone.
"Get out of here." whispered a faint voice in Ranshins inner ear.
She turned and made out the hazy beaten form of a new ghost. It was a little girl in a school uniform. A little girl with dark curly hair. Even as a ghost, her energy was pale orange. And the school uniform that she wore was black and red with the logo of the Red Ribbon Army worked into the design. Ranshin could barely contain her surprise. This was the first time she'd ever recognized a ghost. "Proto4A?!"
"You have to leave!" The spirit pleaded. "Now!"
Ranshin scowled, fists clenched and expression stubborn. Two months in the real world... She had stopped missing the Red Ribbon Army. She didn't know what to think of that organization anymore. But this upset her. Ranshin couldn't guess what Proto4A was doing out here but it wasn't okay for androids to kill genetic children anymore.
"No!" 4A exclaimed. "If you fight him here - "
Other ghosts joined in. Ranshin hesitated. The spirits did have a point. A populated city was not a good place to fight an android. But 10 was heavy and slow, with creaking metallic joints. He could barely walk, much less run. As long as she stayed behind the gun and out of the range of his tail...
"Don't you remember how he killed 5A in the lab?" 4A persisted. "He's not as slow as he looks! And the other androids will be on their way soon."
"I can't just let him get away with - "
"He already has." 4A whispered sadly, holding out her ghostly hands as if to present the evidence. "N' he'll get you as well if you stay here."
Ranshin took in the whole scene. The buildings, the pipes, the overhanging roofs and rain gutters. The shaded alley lined with trash cans and dumpsters. The electric power lines passing overhead...
"No." Ranshin smiled and aimed high, the energy rapidly collecting in her fingertips. "No, he won't."
A thin stream of energy shot upwards and severed the power lines. Android 10 barely glanced up in time to see a heavy cable falling from above, the frayed wires glowing and trailing bright sparks. There was a yellow label on the cable with a warning printed in bold capital letters - DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE. It was the last thing Android 10 ever saw.
ooxoo
