Disclaimer: Shirow Masamune as always, is a genius, and the intellectual owner of the GITS series. Bandai and Production IG own rights to the anime, and Kodansha/VIZ own Manga rights. Again, I fall short. I use the characterizations of his creations to tell mostly unique stories for the sheer joy of writing. I earn no monetary or material gain from these stories, thus they qualify as true fanfics. Enjoy.

Chapter 10:

What was it Batou once said about me needing to upgrade to a less girly model? If I remember correctly, that was just before he face planted himself, right? If you're reading this, don't make me get all 1980's on your ass and do the same thing. By now I'm assuming you're brain has been permanently melded to the pages. Please don't slobber.

Entry 91:

As I expected, Alice wasn't happy with the outcome of our lunch date. But she had several items to say that were well worth any future angst about my failure to deviate from professional mode. She told me that recently her office had been dealing with a phenomena they've started classifying as 'data-vu.' She said that new patients were showing up, with concerns about having already met people they'd never met before, and having memories of activities they'd never done before. She said their team hasn't been able to come up with any logical explanation for this, short of network overload and circuit bleed-through. Then she agreed to keep an ear open for any further information. She smirked and told me it'd be the usual fee and I told her to add it to the tab. That pissed her off, but I did get the small thrill of watching her stalk out of the restaurant before taking care of our bill and going back to work.

Entry 92:

After lunch yesterday, I decided I needed to get away from the political circus I've been performing in. So I told the Chief that I need a week off. The PM agreed with the request and said that since it would be a slow week, the other agents could handle things in my absence. Aramaki agreed. I secretly felt it gave him an opportunity to spend more time with the very cultured PM; but when I teased Aramaki about it, he admitted he was attracted and threw my delay in confronting him back into my face. I was surprised, since he'd just finished his affair with the Ambassador of England. Apparently age has no bearing on romance, although I could have gone another millennium without knowing Aramaki was that big of a player. I am finally home. It has been several months since I've been here. I hope repairs are complete, since I did not bringing a re-gen unit with me; but I really need to get away, even if it's only for a single day. Alice's comment about net-wide bleed-through has me concerned and I want some peace to think it through.

Entry 93:

All repairs are complete, and I slept like a log. I got up before the sun this morning, and ran my usual track. Down through the re-leafed trees that are still pitted with bullet holes. I was saddened to see that some of my treasured Ginko had been shredded by missiles. I will need to discuss with my gardener why these trees have not been removed and new ones replanted.

I passed the place where I found Batou, and would not have recognized the spot if I hadn't found a single piece of blue painted metal shining in a patch of light that had worked its way in through a missing branch. Picking up the piece and putting it in my pocket, I then continued down to the lake. There is a new chip on my favorite rock, somehow the gunfire came down this far; but it's still my favorite place to sit and reflect. It's been such a busy time that I haven't had much opportunity.

Despite what people think about me, I can slow down. I don't like to, as reflection is always followed by feelings of regret and resentment. Today was no different. As I sat with thoughts of my run in with data-vu and my vision from third-market, I couldn't help but wonder. If the male cyborg child had chosen a different path the day the girl cyborg visited, would they have stayed in touch? If they had, would they have made the same decisions?

I regret nothing I've done, how could I when my choices have helped save millions of lives over the years? However, there is always the opportunity to mourn the death of what can never be, that pathway not chosen, and that glimpse makes me think about things I'd rather ignore.

I once stood at the double pathway of the Fushimi-Inari shrine in Kyoto. It was humbling to realize that as a single being, I could only choose one path. Sure, I could come back and take the second path later, but it was physically impossible to simultaneously be on both paths. My life doesn't have the redo ability as the gates do. I can only choose one path, and the other is forever closed to me. I have chosen my path, and that is the one I will continue. However, occasionally I wonder where that other doorways would have led.

Entry 94:

This morning I was woken by the most disturbing sound. I'm used to gunfire, metal scraping against concrete, and general mayhem. But I can definitely mark this sound as new to my experiences. Courtin once had an alarm clock that crowed like a rooster. It was back in the early days, when she was young and we were still experimenting with synthoids to allow for mental stimulations…several body evolutions before this current model, which allows me to do things I'm no longer interested in doing. I remember telling her if it went off one more time, I'd rip it off the table and show her exactly how strong my hands were as I crushed it into tiny plastic and metal fragments.

I guess that's why the general pecking and clucking didn't really affect me the way the full out rooster crow did. I jumped out of the regen unit, gun cocked and pointed. I can't help but chuckle now, but it wasn't funny at the time. Standing on the other side of the window were two reddish brown roosters. I've had some time today to dive, so I've discovered that they are called Rhode Island Reds. No idea how a bird from North America ended up in my backyard, but it's the truth.

It was entertaining to watch them. I had no idea that roosters were so uncoordinated. Their jerks and sudden head turns reminded me much of an early robot. They were so jerky that I actually did a scan to determine if they were perhaps synthetic. My luck, the local porn club would be using birds to collect photos of naked cyborg women who live in remote locations and walk around nonchalantly in front of walls of windows. However, my scan revealed no signs of electronic signaling, and my study of them revealed no noticeable sign of intelligence.

Well, I modify that last statement, they appear to be fairly loyal…to whomever is talking to them. They walked around to the far side of the house and made a lot of noise until I walked over to where they were and started talking. It's obvious to me that someone has been treating them as pets. My walk to the mailbox was not done in solitary. I had two roosters trailing behind me, discussing what could only be the state of the environment. I have to admit I was bored enough to make up their dialogue.

"Well Roo, I think it might rain today."

"Stew, rain is good for the general state of the ecological system here. If we get enough, maybe we can go back to a Waldenesque-type world in which everyone looks for inner completion."

"Roo…"

"Yes Stew…"

"Would you shut up already? I really don't give a shit about Walden, or Thoreau in case you are wondering. I just want to follow this chick to the mailbox and back. Is that okay with you?"

"I guess."

By that point, I'd reached the mailbox. I'd tell you their discussion on the way back to the house, but at that point Batou broke into my delusional ramblings to tell me I was needed back at headquarters. Twenty minutes later, minus two roosters, I was headed back to the big city. My week off shortened to three damned days.

Entry 95:

I got another body replacement today. It was totally unexpected, was not a result of me doing my job, and Aramaki is not amused. Who knew stairs could be so very vicious. I tripped on the way up, hit my head on the top stair, and did what Batou calls a 'vaudeville' impression as I ricochet back and went tumbling down two flights. It's a damned good thing I don't have much spine below the top cervical vertebrae because when they finally got to me, I'd managed to mess up most of the artificial ones below it. I don't know how long I would have lain there while they discussed how best to pick me up if Batou hadn't called one of the tachikoma's in and had it pick my body up.

Now, I'm working at fine-tuning synapse responses so that I can get back to work. Aramaki said I wasn't to be there until the beginning of next week, but they didn't called me off of vacation just to be perverse and as soon as my reflexes match my instincts, I'm going to beard that lion in his den and get answers.

Entry 96:

Aramaki has been a little harder to pin down than I expected. I'm back on PM detail. I don't think either of us are particularly humored by the situation. I'm itching to see some action, and the PM is obviously going through a type of action withdraw that causes my tiniest servo units to shudder in revulsion if I happen to let my mind digress in that direction. We're both cranky as bears and not afraid to show it. Ironically, since Aramaki is the main reason, we've built a little bit of feminine camaraderie based around talking smack about the white headed imp of Satan. It's hard to hate a woman who can be as sarcastic as myself. At least it's gotten my mind off of the third-market thoughts for a few minutes.

Entry 97:

Today was an exercise in futility. But before I go further, let me state that Batou has a glitch in his system. Well, I'm not sure it's a glitch, as much as a quirk. The ultra sophisticated machine-man has a thing for black and white movies. Typically it's American Gangster movies, like the ones with Spencer Tracy or Humphrey Bogart. However one evening I stopped by to find him watching a comedy, I think it was an Abbot & Costello and had something to do with baseball. One of them was trying to explain the name of the players on each of the bases to the other one. It was an exercise in futility. After hearing my story, the quirky Batou reminded me that my experience qualified as an Abbot & Costello moment.

It all started with the Tachikomas. One of them downloaded an ancient program and was causing mass pandemonium because it couldn't run the program. Dr. Akai asked me to research the program and see if it was obtainable. With their current rate of evolution he realized that leaving this avenue unexplored would be more harmful than the risks associated with opening unknown file types. With my mission firmly understood, I set off.

I guess before I go any further I need to explain that Section 9 is part of the judicial system. Thus said, we are a government organization. S9 may be a shadow branch of the organization, but we are still attached to the same trunk. And there are times and places to break the rules. This mission wasn't one of them. I can easily take the heat from IA on 40M yen of unauthorized firepower when the result is preservation of peace. But I don't sit comfortably across the table from those bloodsuckers for not following proper procurement protocol when ordering a small software package. Thus said, Abbot turns to Costello and says "Who's on First…"

First I had to find out what the file went to. It turned out to be an antiquated file extension belonging to a program made in the late 1990's. I got on the procurement system to find that this company was still being used for some of our secondary redundancy systems. Thinking that this would be easy and I'd still have time for some unscheduled target practice, I called procurement. The bitch whom answered the phone after a forty-five minute torture session with off-key hospital music, informs me that we cannot order that software.

"Can I order it as a non-standard material?" That generated a horrible screech and I suddenly felt the need to apologize for offending her ancestors. "Can I call the company up and ask them to send me the program and pay for it with my approved debit card?" That earned me a talking to that my ancestors would have been offended with. I told her that I really had to have a copy of this program, and I suddenly don't need a vid phone to see her look down her nose at the phone and ask me why I thought I was so high and mighty.

I was tempted to tell her that my little known section housed seven extremely curious creatures whose sole responsibility was to wipe out the enemy with any methods available. However, I didn't think that was wise. Uptight pencil pushers aren't really ready for reality. So I told her that we had a really old forensics machine that used the software and we needed it in order to maintain peace. It was close enough to count.

She sighs very loudly and since she has me on speakerphone, I hear her chair squeak as she gets up and walks across the room to shut the door to her office. Hmmm, didn't realize I was talking to someone high enough to have her own office, but kudos for her. She sits back down and I can almost smell the coffee on her breath as she sighs heavily over the phone.

"I'm breaking every rule telling you this." I listen intently, now feeling like I'm on the inside of the sainted procurement group. You need to send me an email with justification for why you need this program." An email, that's it? She could have said that when we started, saved us both some grief. "I will send it back to you with the ordering information." So far, so good. "You'll then need to get on the requisition program and create a requisition." I'm almost smiling, it's too easy. "Your direct supervisor will need to approve it." Uh oh, Aramaki approving a new program, it will definitely raise his eyebrows. Then all seven procurement officers will need to approve the requisition." I'm now beginning to get a headache. "Once the document has been approved, it will no longer be in your control." I see a long night of placating Tachi's in my head. "I will then modify the request to state the program will be sent from stock." I think she must have heard my jaw drop because she chuckled evilly. "Oh yes, we have hundreds of copies, but since they are an old version, we have to receive justification and end use information before we can release the license."

At this point I felt like yelling Costello's "I don't give a damn" response; but I was just sure the bitch would be back on the line to tell me that those words were also part of the contract that I'd just made with the procurement nazi. By 5pm we had the program, but I was going home to a liquid dinner. Batou can keep his black and white movies. I'm sticking to Technicolor.

Entry 98:

Well, the good news is that the Tachi's got their program. The bad news is that the file they opened was the largest can of worms I've ever seen. Actually, I can't say I've ever actually seen a can of worms, but we all know what I'm talking about. The files were e-stories, old books that predate WW3 and were digitalized sometime in the early 21st century. The questions coming from the Tachi's were so strange that I chose to review the files myself. The only way I can describe reading those files was to liken it to reading Jules Verne in 1990. Jules Verne was either from the future (ha ha) or he had the most prolific knowledge of self-fulfilling prophecy I've ever encountered. At least I used to feel that way about him until I started reading these accounts.

From my understanding, this author was a cult icon in some circles during his life, but he wasn't as well read as other authors of the time. They made movies out of several of his books, I'll have to research to see if I can find a fairly well preserved copy of one of them. He wrote about a phenomenon called a 'ghost in the machine.' This is what caused the Tachi's to go nuts. They've been studying to figure out the meaning of life and this just gave them more ammo. Months ago, I tried to explain to them that meaning is something all sentient beings search for. That they shouldn't get discouraged if they don't find it. Well, the little bitches just won't let it go. All afternoon they insisted they be called "Sonny." Two of them got into a fight about it and the techs had to come in and deactivate them. Curious, I started reading the material they were studying. After having read a particular file by this Asimov author, I understood the problem and was able to resolve the entire name issue by explaining that they were as individual as this Sonny and they needed to respect their own individualities by maintaining their own identities, or names.

But then came the question no logical explanation can answer. Of course it had to come from the bookworm. Damn her reading circuitry. "So, if we are sentient because of this 'ghost in the machine…' where did the ghost come from?" How the hell am I supposed to answer that? Batou was standing beside me when 'IT' happened. He shrugged his shoulders and made for the door, whimpering about munitions training. Damned coward, I will get even later. How am I supposed to answer a question I struggle with myself? How do a brain and a little bit of spinal material make up a being? How does a 'ghost in the shell' differ from a 'ghost in the machine?' And how do I know that seventeen body changes later, I'm still a shell instead of a machine? But the Tachi's don't understand. They blithely assume, like any young creature, that older means wiser. And to them, I'm more ancient than…well, not Aramaki. If I admitted that I didn't have all the answers, I would lose face and they would not obey direct commands because they would have diagnosed that I was the weaker being. They are still many evolutionary stages away from realizing that admitting a limitation shows more maturity and strength than bluffing. Since I'm the Alpha of this relationship, I knew this called for bluffing.

And who knows, maybe my explanation that electronic fields take on their own personalities and therefore things powered by electronic fields (AKA Tachikomas) can start to exhibit their own personalities, worked for them. It seemed to satisfy them and they finished perusing their files without further mishap. I myself took the opportunity to vacate the premises and look for a tall white-haired weasel carrying a gun. Making him huddle in a corner and plead for mercy made me feel marginally better. Maybe a good sci-fi movie would finish it out. I think I'll go for an action flick. Someone recommended "Blade Runner" to me. Surely it will take my mind off of my own concerns of ghosts.

Entry 99:

Dammit to hell! "Blade Runner" wasn't a diversionary tactic at all. Togusa is so dead. Just wait until I get back to the office. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately for a certain carbon based idiot, Aramaki has sent me out of the area on recon.

Entry 100:

I guess my retribution on Togusa will have to wait for a week or two. Damned human frailties. Two weeks out, I really don't want to recount how that went, and I come back to find the organ bag missing. I remember him complaining about heartburn a lot recently, but I didn't think anything of it. Apparently, he didn't either. I remember Batou giving him a hard time about his short experience eating cyborg food. Togusa responded that the nanobytes had destroyed his insides and Batou had teased him saying how he'd probably been eating them for years and not knowing any better. Togusa threw a canned drink at him, getting the syrup all over the inside of the van. This only caused Batou to break out in raucous laughter and the two of them never brought the subject up again.

But seriously, there are things about being cyborg that aren't pleasant. Like brain-box transfers, for instance. It's a little disconcerting to know your entire existence depends on the skill level of inferior model androids and a power grid that can be tricky at times. General maintenance can also be a little humiliating. There are parts of my cyborg body I don't like anyone to see, but regularly have to expose to technician inspection and maintenance. Luckily for me, most of our maintenance is internal to Section 9. I dread the thought of some hack running his hands all over my innards.

Enough about my innards. I was talking about Togusa and his innards. Right after I left for recon, Aramaki found Togusa passed out in the bathroom. Aramaki got him to the medics and when Togusa came to, they found out that he'd been unable to hold anything down for several days. Aramaki does have a way of showing anger that frightens most people I know, and his cold assurance that Togusa would be well before coming back to work sent chills up the backs of everyone in the room, or so I've been told. After extensive tests, Togusa will have to confirm if they were as horrible as they sound, they found his Gallbladder had quit working properly. Apparently a gall stone had formed in the gland and moved into the ductwork connecting it to the stomach. The bile was backing up in the gland and causing him to be quite sick.

So here comes the part where I feel queasy for Togusa, and want to smack myself for that weakness. In order to get the gland out, the put four probes into his gut and maneuvered them around until the gallbladder was cut and the duct tied off. Then they removed the gland through one of the four holes and taped him up. Once he woke up, they packed him off home for his wife to care for. Aramaki said he'd be back on light duty next week and it'd be a few more weeks before he could get back on full-time active. Until then, Batou and I have partnered up again. Oh joy. I can just imagine the next few weeks of arguing about movies I don't give a shit about, and his incessant desire to own a dog. But, two weeks of antagonizing one of my closest pals is nothing compared to the thought of some medical android digging around in my gut, trying to remove organs that only exist to fail and infect my insides. Poor Togusa. Maybe I'll just let the movie thing go…

A/N:

Rumors of my demise… blah, blah. Thank you to each of you who continue to check on updates and gnash your teeth at me for taking so long. Blame my muse, he went out for chicken wings right after Christmas in 2005, and finally found his drunk-ass way home this weekend. Now I'm hoping he gets his groove over with before school starts back in two weeks. I need sleep!