Saturday
Sara woke up from where she had fallen asleep on the couch, with her novel still held loosely
in one hand. *Heh. First time I've slept on a couch without being wounded. I wonder how my guest
is doing?* Sara stood up, placed the book on the table, and walked upstairs, mentally deciding to
have a shower first. When she got to the bathroom though, she heard the shower already running, so
she shrugged and went to her room to get a change of clothes. Soon, Sara heard the shower shut off
and the bathroom door opened slightly.
"Hey Sara, do you have any spare clothes I could borrow for a while?" Stryk was being fairly
quiet, and Sara replied quickly. "Yeah, sure. Hope you don't mind a long shirt for now." Sara
grabbed a T-shirt that, when she was Stryk's height, went past her knees, and tossed it through the
two-inch wide gap left by Stryk. Stryk chuckled as Sara went back into her room, and soon Sara
heard the bathroom being vacated. With that, Sara had a twenty-minute shower, got changed, and
went downstairs in time to see her guest leave the kitchen, carrying what looked like a quad-decker
sandwich, loaded with just about every kind of meat and cheese Sara had.
"Well, It looks like you're going to clear out my fridge faster than Six did. So, can you tell
me why you decided to come here for refuge?" Stryk nodded, and tried to speak through a mouthful
of her sandwich, but the response was muffled, and she nearly choked. Sara had to hit Stryk between
the shoulder-blades to stop the coughing fit, but soon Stryk was back to normal. "So, what
happened?" Stryk sighed slightly, then told all. "Well, I had to umm, acquire some funding, so I went
out and was ambushed by squad of those damned greenskins." Sara nodded, and frowned slightly.
"Those things are getting smarter as time goes by. Remind me to install some MG42s on my roof just
so they learn to avoid this area. Anyhow, where were you?"
Stryk hid a smile, then continued with her explanation. "Well, I led them on a merry little
romp through the north end, and saw something being taken into a warehouse guarded by almost
thirty more of those grunts. Some of those also joined in the chase, and I ended up having to fight
my way out of a swarm. I'm glad that they weren't using any heavy weapons, otherwise I'd be a pink
and silver smear all over some wall." Sara raised an eyebrow, then remembered the little bits of metal
she had seen on Stryk's temples when she had been shot. "Ah, your involuntary enhancements.
Y'know, I occasionally think that you're a techno-sibling." Stryk's eyes nearly doubled in size when
Sara said that, but she kept her peace, for a few seconds.
"Okay, I give. How could you say that, and keep a straight face?" Stryk finished off the last
few pieces of the sandwich while speaking, so Sara moved into the kitchen and brewed up a mug of
tea for herself. After finishing, Sara went into the living room, where Stryk was lounging on the
couch, and she decided to explain. "Simple. I am pretty much a cyborg myself. If someone removed
all the non-organic materials from my body, they'd have most of the bones in my arms, legs, my entire
ribcage, and about seven kilos of nanotechnology. Now, my 'enhancements' were required to save
my life, and personally I hope to never suffer through what happened to you, and actually, I have a
personal vendetta against that bastard."
Stryk's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling when her mind percolated through what Sara had just
said, and she had to ask. "So, why do you have a vendetta against Reichter? Mine is justifiable, but
you haven't given me a reason for yours." Sara looked at Stryk with her eyes narrowed to slits,
making her appear to be even more menacing. In response, Sara swept her hair back from the scars
on her face, and traced them with one finger. "These were caused by a greenskin, but it's what
happened at the same time that has caused the hatred to exist. My grandparents, the only two people
I truly cared about, and a houseful of children under the age of ten were killed when the squad of
freaks blew up the place.
"I spent almost three days unearthing bodies, most of them smaller than you. This is why I
have a vendetta." Sara was fighting tears, but failed as several spilled down her face, some running
along the channels in her cheek caused by the scarring. "Oh my god. I thought I had it rough, but you
seem to have seen much worse. Hell, I was only experimented on by a mad scientist, who tried to turn
me into the 'perfect' assassin, and when I finally escaped, my entire family barred their doors because
I was dead to them."
Sara nodded, but was pulled out of her despondency by Stryk's tone of voice. "Yeah, you
have had it rough, but I don't think you were forced to go through surgery that indentured you to a
mega-corporation with no redeeming morals, which required you to do things such as assassinate
entire families, just to keep a competitive edge. Also, I doubt you've participated in a slaving
operation, nor have you seen the only people you care about brutally murdered right in front of you,
with you being unable to do anything." Sara looked into Stryk's eyes, and noticed that her eyes were
clouded by inner pain.
"Look, I'm sorry about dumping on you, and actually, I'm hoping we could compare life
stories someday. Now Stryk, before you rip my head off, can I call you Erin?" Stryk sat bolt upright
and glared at Sara. "How the hell did you know?" Sara smiled. "I knew when I first saw you as Stryk,
especially because of my meeting with you as Erin the day before. First, the hair. The only difference
is that as Erin, you sweep your hair forwards to hide your implants. Second, body language. even
though you're less assertive as Erin, it's pretty easy to see through the act, especially if you've had
my experiences. Third, when you're running around during the night, you really need to keep the cash
you collected in the day hidden in areas other than your back pocket.
"Now that I've blasted into your other identity, I think you should have the same opportunity.
Lemme show you something." Sara got up after finishing her tea, and pushed the panel that opened
up her basement lair. Stryk looked on as the panel in the floor slid aside, but she followed as Sara
dropped into the hole. Looking around, Stryk saw the sword rack, currently empty, the table with
the three stacks of cards, the sheathed sword, and the dagger sitting on it, along with a small hip
pack. The next thing Stryk noticed was the faded newspaper articles tacked onto one wall, and the
cape hung on what looked like a mannequin's shoulders.
"So, what's with the dungeon? Any twisted fetishes?" Sara laughed. "You would wish,
wouldn't you. Actually, this is where I keep a lot of my equipment from my travels." Stryk walked
over to a rather garish article, which was almost screaming : Killer of Child Pornographer Apparently
Ghost! Stryk snorted at the article, which was apparently a piece of fluff, then turned back to Sara
and nearly had a heart attack. Sara's body was totally covered by a purplish-black substance which
seemed to be made up of many small interlocking scales. The only parts exposed were her eyes, and
a fair amount of her hair was running down her back. Also, when Stryk looked down slightly, she
noticed a flash of red at Sara's throat, and was rather curious.
"So, how the hell did that happen? What is that? A symbiote?" Sara shook her head, then
looked at Stryk cooly. As she started to speak, the armour rippled away from her mouth, leaving the
lower third of her face exposed. "Nope, this isn't a symbiote. Those only exist in science fiction
novels. This is a suit of trainable combat armour, made up of titanium and micro-polymer weave.
Also, I control it through a subvocal microphone currently implanted in my pendant, of which only
the ruby is now visible. Nifty huh?" Stryk could only nod, then watched as Sara strapped the knife
to her right calf and was dumbfounded as the leather straps holding it there were covered by the
armour in a strange rippling motion.
The same happened when Sara belted the hip pack to her right side, but the belt holding the
scabbard of the sword was not covered by the armour when Sara looped it over her right arm. "Okay,
you look like you're going into a war zone." Sara shrugged, then jumped out of the room and told
Stryk to get out of there before she closed it. Stryk followed, utilizing some of her inhuman reflexes
to get out of the room before the panel closed. Sara gestured for upstairs, and the two women went
into Sara's room where she opened the safe, and removed her twin magnums along with a gunbelt
designed for quickdraws, and eight extra magazines. Sara quickly checked the guns for any serious
wear and tear, then reloaded them so they held nine bullets instead of the usual eight.
After the maintenance was over, Sara put the guns into the belt, and buckled it around her
waist, letting the gun on the right side drop lower than on the left. Sara turned around to look at
Stryk, then struck a semi-heroic pose. "So, what do I look like? Something that inspires fear, or
something that inspires laughter?" Stryk, caught up in Sara's good humour, chuckled slightly, but
shook her head. "Okay, how about this?" Sara murmured something, and the armour rippled slightly,
appearing to shrivel slightly along her legs and torso, but her left arm swiftly extruded a three-foot
long metallic spike, and the right unfurled an amazingly long whip from the wrist. At the same time,
Sara donned the cape that she had hidden behind her back for the last few minutes, and wrapped the
greyish material around her.
"Okay, this looks like I'm a comic book hero or villain, depending on your point of view."
Stryk grinned and applauded the appearance, but jumped slightly when something tapped her shoulder
from behind. Spinning around, Stryk saw the tip of Sara's whip hovering in the air just below
shoulder level, and suddenly felt the point of the metal spine pricking the base of her neck. "Rule
number one, Erin. Never turn your back on someone like me. Now, I saw you look at those news
articles, and those exist as proof that I am more than a very angry ghost, flitting around the world."
Stryk nodded, feeling slightly concerned about the amazing speed Sara moved at.
"Okay, you've proven your point. Can you deactivate your armour now?" Sara nodded,
whispered something, and Stryk saw the whip disappear at the same time she felt the spike remove
itself from her neck. Turning around, Stryk saw Sara standing there, in her normal clothes, but with
the addition of the myriad belts and pieces of ordnance to her normal clothes. Sara then unbelted
everything, tossing the knife, magnums, and hip pack into the safe and putting the sword down
carefully beside the small table near the window. The only two things she didn't remove were a purple
belt wrapped diagonally around her hips, and the pendant which was still seated between her
collarbones.
"Okay, you seem to have more than a few secrets hidden in your pockets, but I won't pry too
much. Now, I may as well wander off before anything bad happens, but I'm going to return
eventually. I'll talk to you at school." Sara nodded, and after Stryk changed to her nighttime clothes,
she was ushered out the back door. Stryk grinned at Sara, waved quickly, and jumped over to the
roof of the third house to the south. Sara went back into her house, and after looking at the book on
the table, and at the clock, which was telling her that it was almost two in the afternoon, she decided
to go to a club for a little while.
Sara drove to a club she had seen when leaving the school, and after going through her usual
routine of making sure no damage would be incurred to her bike, she walked inside and was nearly
bowled over by six teens heading to a table, already surrounded by what looked like every member
of the teenage male population in the city. Sara, feeling very curious, walked over and simply shoved
her way through to the inner ring. Looking down slightly, she saw four girls playing poker, of which
one was really cleaning up. Smiling slightly, Sara watched as a girl went too far, lost the remaining
chips in her pile, and was forced to drop out. Before anyone could object, Sara dropped into the
recently vacated seat, and just as the next dealer started to complain, Sara flashed several bills of large
denominations into her face.
"Alright miss, you can play. Starting ante is reset to five dollars." Sara quickly converted four
hundred dollars into chips, and smiled at the hefty bonus due to the exchange rate. The girl who was
stacking her chips smiled slightly and looked nervous. Sara knew that it was an act, evidenced by the
large stack of chips, barely outstripped by her own. "Okay, let's get this show on the road." Sara
muttered under her breath as she was dealt her first hand. Looking at the hand, she was surprised to
notice that she already had three of a kind, and could probably coast to a fair win on that alone. After
putting in the required ante, Sara let the betting commence, and noticed that the losers were both
betting very aggressively, while her primary competitor was betting more cautiously.
Within twenty minutes and five hands, the two aggressive betters were down to only a few
low-denomination chips, while Sara and the other girl had increased their stack sizes by about 40%.
*This is turning out to be a good game. Now let's see who'll win today.* Sara put in the ante, and
smiled as her hand arrived. Without even looking at her cards, she tossed in a fifty-dollar chip and
cocked her head to the side. The other three girls shuddered, but they called Sara's bet, despite being
left with no money for the two aggressive ones. The cautious better looked long and hard at Sara's
unreadable face, then folded.
"Good choice." Sara slowly flipped her hand over with one finger, revealing the ten, Jack,
Queen, King and Ace of spades. The entire group around the table gasped in horror as Sara added
another hundred and ten dollars to her pile, then she flipped over the other girl's cards. Her hand was
a four of a kind, all nines. "Good game. Look, I have to go somewhere in about ten minutes, so let's
finish this now. All the chips, one hand of blackjack. What do you say?" The girl nodded and shoved
her entire stack into the centre of the table. Sara did the same, and noticed that the table was
beginning to creak and groan from the strain over having almost four thousand dollars worth of chips
heaped on the weakest point.
The cards were dealt, and Sara looked at hers. *Hmm. Two kings and an Ace. That makes
me the winner if I play.* Sara nodded at the girl, so the younger person put her cards down first.
*Three fours? That's no contest. Hell, I don't even need the money.* Sara smiled, put her hand face
down on the table, and slowly pushed the pile of chips to the girl's side. "You win. Have a good day."
Sara then got up, and slowly walked over to the bar on the opposite side of the room. Sitting on a
stool, she asked for a bottle of coke, then waited for the girl to discover that if she had wanted to,
Sara could have gotten every last penny out of her.
Soon, the girl sat down beside her, pack now bulging with bills. "So, why'd you do that? I
thought only desperate people played cards." Sara shrugged. "Or bored people. What am I going to
do with a few thousand extra? Hell, I have enough money to keep a comfortable lifestyle for myself
that'll last me almost twenty years. So, now that you're in a bit of light, lemme look at you for a sec."
Sara half-turned in her seat and glanced at the girl, then grinned. "Well, I'm not that surprised that
you're here Hazel. So didja have fun?" Hazel nodded, then ordered a coke as well. "Y'know, when
I turned over your cards, everyone saw you had me beat, and a few thought I should give you all the
cash.
Sara frowned, and finished off her drink. "Bullshit. You won fairly, and if they give you any
crap I'd happily clock one or two. Despite the fact that I gave up, you played a good hand, and only
lost through bad luck. Now, how's your homework?" Hazel smiled, then shook her head. "In your
class or in others? Lemme see, you haven't given us any work yet, except for the usual writing in
class. For all the others? Well, I don't do my work anyhow, so it doesn't matter." Sara shrugged.
"Fine, it's your future kid. I gotta go, but I'll see ya around." With that, Sara paid and tipped the
bartender, got up, and left the club in time to see the last rays of sunlight disappear into the man-made
canyons to the west. *Well, I have a day left before I have to be at the damned warehouse, so I'm
going to do a quick scouting mission, just to see what I'm going into.*
Sara drove north to the warehouse district, and after dredging the number out of her memory,
she went over to where the sheet-metal structure stood and watched through a window as several
large men moved around several of the crates inside the building. Sara glanced at her watch as she
quickly surveyed the layout, and realized that she'd better get home in time to watch the late news.
Sara then drove to her house, observant for any tails, but she had picked up none, and after she
arrived and had put away her bike, she noticed a hand-written note stuck to the door. Grabbing the
note, Sara read it as she turned on her laptop to check her mail.
"Dear Miss D'Arnise. I have some information about your 'enhancements' that you may want
to listen to. Please contact me through E-mail, or come over to my house relatively soon. The
information may have great consequences, and what you do in the future may be impacted by the
information revealed.
Sincerely, Dr. Anthony Zacharias."
Sara raised her eyebrows, reread the note three times, then put it down and logged on to her
internet account to check her mail. After wading through several hundred junk messages, Sarah had
whittled the size of her inbox to only fifteen messages, none of which had any impact on the meeting
at midnight tomorrow. Sara read all of them, noticing one from Dr. Sorbie, which she immediately
replied to, then turned off the computer. *Okay, I think I should bring my laptop over to Zack's so
I can show him this message from Sorbie. After all, maybe I can get both men to get into some
correspondence together.*
Sara put the computer into its carrying case, then walked out of her house, locking the door
behind her. Instead of driving to Zack's house, she just walked to the heavily fortified building that
was at a corner intersection. She walked through the wrought-iron gate, and keeping on the path, she
walked to the front door, and knocked briskly on it. Sara felt something odd about the door though,
and on closer inspection, she noticed that it was painted to look like an oak door, but was actually
made of heavy-gauge steel.
The door opened soon after, and Sara found herself face-to-collar with the esteemed Dr.
Zack. "Good evening doc. I got your message about twenty minutes ago, and wanted to clear my
other messages first. So, may I come in?" Sara waited quietly as Dr. Zack arranged his thoughts,
occasionally tapping one of her fingers on her thigh. "Well, It seems that we won't get anything done
on the front stoop, so please, come inside. I apologise for the delay in the invite, but I was thinking
of a chemical theorem that I need to put on paper soon." Sara nodded, smiling slightly and entered
the main foyer of Zack's house.
Looking around, she instantly noticed that the foyer looked slightly utilitarian, but she
followed Dr. Zack upstairs after he beckoned her to follow him. Sara went up the short slight of stairs
to the living room, studying almost everything she saw with her usual negligent intensity. When she
arrived in the living room, Sara saw that one of the three chairs was occupied, and by a close friend
to boot. "Well, how are you this fine day Six? You seem to be a lot healthier than when I first saw
you." Sara smiled, and offered her hand to her friend. Leaning closer, Sara whispered "How's your
leg? Acting up any?" Six smiled, shook her head, and nodded towards the empty chair to her left.
Sara accepted the invitation, and sat down, putting the carrying case for her laptop down beside her.
Dr. Zack had also sat down in a large armchair across from her, and was stoking a pipe that
looked like it was older than her. "So, could you tell me what's so important about my
'enhancements' as you so eloquently called them?" Sara leaned forwards slightly, resting her elbows
on her knees as she looked at Zack. Six grinned and leaned back somewhat, content to play watchful
observer. Dr. Zack finished tamping some tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, lit it, and then turned his
attention to Sara. "Well, Miss D'Arnise, I said that I had analysed your blood, and have found
something quite unnerving. Apparently, the nanomachinery in your bloodstream have enhanced
themselves through several generations.
"Also, the machinery has begun to take upon itself extra tasks such as advanced cellular
repair, and what appears to be construction of red blood cells from remains of the old ones. Now, I
actually managed to pull the original specs of what your nanotech looked like off the 'net, and I have
an image of the current ones in your blood. Let me show you the difference." Zack got up, still
puffing away on his pipe, and picked up a computer disk as Sara pulled out her laptop. She booted
up the machine, and put the disk in, minutes before activating a graphics program. Looking at the
original nanobot, which was a simple skeleton with a few manipulative arms and a miniaturized
thruster on the back, and comparing it to the 'evolved' version which had a heavy casing, many more
manipulators, and better control systems that were visible.
"Good god! I'm surprised that those things haven't had any programming glitches yet. Could
you tell me what the side effects of the enhanced systems are?" Dr. Zack nodded as Sara set up her
laptop to display the images side-by-side right before she activated her E-mail program and selected
the message she got from Sorbie. "Well, apparently, you'll suffer from limited cellular decay, thereby
slowing your aging process. Also, you'll have less need for blood transfusions due to the afore-
mentioned cellular repair having extended to encompass your red cells." Sara's eyes had increased
in size to approximately the level of golf balls, and she silently tapped the screen of the laptop as she
understood the implications of the message Dr. Sorbie sent her.
"My god. Dr. Zack, Six, you might want to look at this." Sara turned the laptop to Dr. Zack,
and let Six crowd her slightly as both people read the message.
"Selina: The nanotech implanted into your system will upgrade itself at a regular rate until an
approximate time-frame of five years has passed. At that point, they may diverge, and on the
divergent path, the machines would turn you into what could best be called an Ebola Mary. If you're
lucky enough to not suffer through that path, the nanomachines will stop upgrading themselves, and
only multiply at a rate required to sustain their current population. I'm sending you two pictures of
what the machines would look like if they changed to the plague variety, compared to the benign
version.
I pray that you are lucky. Sincerely, Dr. Charles Sorbie."
Six and Dr. Zack looked at the files that had been attached, and they both relaxed quickly
when the benign version appeared on the screen, showing itself to be virtually identical to Sara's
current batch in almost every way. Dr. Zack sat back down in his seat, and rubbing his forehead, he
sighed. "Amazing. I cannot believe what a close call we have just had. You, my young friend, could
be considered the only organic weapon of mass destruction in the world. I do not envy you. In all
honesty, I recommend that you pray to whatever higher power you believe in. Please, could you copy
all the files you have on your nanotech into a CD sometime? I would greatly appreciate it, since it
would help boost further research on your condition."
Sara nodded, then looked at her hands. "I've had these machines in me for the last four and
a half years. Now, from what I've seen, I'm on a fast track to be on the benign route, but I have six
months of mental torture to go through, mainly because I don't know whether or not they will change
into a plague." She looked like she was going to cry, and Six moved to try and reassure Sara.
"Honestly, I wonder about the morals of the people who produced your nanomachines, and
am appalled at the risk they have run by literally taking a chance on you, and the world to boot." Dr.
Zack sighed and shook his head, "Now, from what that message said, I can guess that your
nanomachines have three overriding programs.
"Number 1: fix any damage done to you on a cellular level. Number 2: Upgrade themselves
to be more efficient and capable of repairing more complex damage. And, Number 3: Cancel any
subsequent upgrades at the five-year mark, and only allow the nanomachines to repair your damage
and maintain their current levels. However, we have proof that only two of those programs work,
and there may be bugs in the third."
Sara looked at Dr. Zack, who was now chewing worriedly on the stem of his pipe. "How do
you know that the first two work?"
Dr. Zack smiled slightly. "Well, if the first program had failed, you'd be dead. If the second
one had failed, you'd still have the primitive 'base' machines instead of the highly advanced ones that
you do have. The question mark is the third program. If it's buggy, you'll still have upgrades, but run
the risk of accidentally creating a plague that would almost certainly wipe out most life on Earth."
Sara shuddered, then asked if she could leave so she could absorb the information she had just
been fed. Even before Dr. Zack nodded, Sara walked briskly outside, and as soon as she got into fresh
air, she ran to her house, and went inside. After closing and locking the door, and after she put the
computer on its shelf, Sara went around the house, locked every door and window, and as she
entered her room and lay down on the bed, she suddenly broke down and cried herself to sleep.
Sara woke up from where she had fallen asleep on the couch, with her novel still held loosely
in one hand. *Heh. First time I've slept on a couch without being wounded. I wonder how my guest
is doing?* Sara stood up, placed the book on the table, and walked upstairs, mentally deciding to
have a shower first. When she got to the bathroom though, she heard the shower already running, so
she shrugged and went to her room to get a change of clothes. Soon, Sara heard the shower shut off
and the bathroom door opened slightly.
"Hey Sara, do you have any spare clothes I could borrow for a while?" Stryk was being fairly
quiet, and Sara replied quickly. "Yeah, sure. Hope you don't mind a long shirt for now." Sara
grabbed a T-shirt that, when she was Stryk's height, went past her knees, and tossed it through the
two-inch wide gap left by Stryk. Stryk chuckled as Sara went back into her room, and soon Sara
heard the bathroom being vacated. With that, Sara had a twenty-minute shower, got changed, and
went downstairs in time to see her guest leave the kitchen, carrying what looked like a quad-decker
sandwich, loaded with just about every kind of meat and cheese Sara had.
"Well, It looks like you're going to clear out my fridge faster than Six did. So, can you tell
me why you decided to come here for refuge?" Stryk nodded, and tried to speak through a mouthful
of her sandwich, but the response was muffled, and she nearly choked. Sara had to hit Stryk between
the shoulder-blades to stop the coughing fit, but soon Stryk was back to normal. "So, what
happened?" Stryk sighed slightly, then told all. "Well, I had to umm, acquire some funding, so I went
out and was ambushed by squad of those damned greenskins." Sara nodded, and frowned slightly.
"Those things are getting smarter as time goes by. Remind me to install some MG42s on my roof just
so they learn to avoid this area. Anyhow, where were you?"
Stryk hid a smile, then continued with her explanation. "Well, I led them on a merry little
romp through the north end, and saw something being taken into a warehouse guarded by almost
thirty more of those grunts. Some of those also joined in the chase, and I ended up having to fight
my way out of a swarm. I'm glad that they weren't using any heavy weapons, otherwise I'd be a pink
and silver smear all over some wall." Sara raised an eyebrow, then remembered the little bits of metal
she had seen on Stryk's temples when she had been shot. "Ah, your involuntary enhancements.
Y'know, I occasionally think that you're a techno-sibling." Stryk's eyes nearly doubled in size when
Sara said that, but she kept her peace, for a few seconds.
"Okay, I give. How could you say that, and keep a straight face?" Stryk finished off the last
few pieces of the sandwich while speaking, so Sara moved into the kitchen and brewed up a mug of
tea for herself. After finishing, Sara went into the living room, where Stryk was lounging on the
couch, and she decided to explain. "Simple. I am pretty much a cyborg myself. If someone removed
all the non-organic materials from my body, they'd have most of the bones in my arms, legs, my entire
ribcage, and about seven kilos of nanotechnology. Now, my 'enhancements' were required to save
my life, and personally I hope to never suffer through what happened to you, and actually, I have a
personal vendetta against that bastard."
Stryk's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling when her mind percolated through what Sara had just
said, and she had to ask. "So, why do you have a vendetta against Reichter? Mine is justifiable, but
you haven't given me a reason for yours." Sara looked at Stryk with her eyes narrowed to slits,
making her appear to be even more menacing. In response, Sara swept her hair back from the scars
on her face, and traced them with one finger. "These were caused by a greenskin, but it's what
happened at the same time that has caused the hatred to exist. My grandparents, the only two people
I truly cared about, and a houseful of children under the age of ten were killed when the squad of
freaks blew up the place.
"I spent almost three days unearthing bodies, most of them smaller than you. This is why I
have a vendetta." Sara was fighting tears, but failed as several spilled down her face, some running
along the channels in her cheek caused by the scarring. "Oh my god. I thought I had it rough, but you
seem to have seen much worse. Hell, I was only experimented on by a mad scientist, who tried to turn
me into the 'perfect' assassin, and when I finally escaped, my entire family barred their doors because
I was dead to them."
Sara nodded, but was pulled out of her despondency by Stryk's tone of voice. "Yeah, you
have had it rough, but I don't think you were forced to go through surgery that indentured you to a
mega-corporation with no redeeming morals, which required you to do things such as assassinate
entire families, just to keep a competitive edge. Also, I doubt you've participated in a slaving
operation, nor have you seen the only people you care about brutally murdered right in front of you,
with you being unable to do anything." Sara looked into Stryk's eyes, and noticed that her eyes were
clouded by inner pain.
"Look, I'm sorry about dumping on you, and actually, I'm hoping we could compare life
stories someday. Now Stryk, before you rip my head off, can I call you Erin?" Stryk sat bolt upright
and glared at Sara. "How the hell did you know?" Sara smiled. "I knew when I first saw you as Stryk,
especially because of my meeting with you as Erin the day before. First, the hair. The only difference
is that as Erin, you sweep your hair forwards to hide your implants. Second, body language. even
though you're less assertive as Erin, it's pretty easy to see through the act, especially if you've had
my experiences. Third, when you're running around during the night, you really need to keep the cash
you collected in the day hidden in areas other than your back pocket.
"Now that I've blasted into your other identity, I think you should have the same opportunity.
Lemme show you something." Sara got up after finishing her tea, and pushed the panel that opened
up her basement lair. Stryk looked on as the panel in the floor slid aside, but she followed as Sara
dropped into the hole. Looking around, Stryk saw the sword rack, currently empty, the table with
the three stacks of cards, the sheathed sword, and the dagger sitting on it, along with a small hip
pack. The next thing Stryk noticed was the faded newspaper articles tacked onto one wall, and the
cape hung on what looked like a mannequin's shoulders.
"So, what's with the dungeon? Any twisted fetishes?" Sara laughed. "You would wish,
wouldn't you. Actually, this is where I keep a lot of my equipment from my travels." Stryk walked
over to a rather garish article, which was almost screaming : Killer of Child Pornographer Apparently
Ghost! Stryk snorted at the article, which was apparently a piece of fluff, then turned back to Sara
and nearly had a heart attack. Sara's body was totally covered by a purplish-black substance which
seemed to be made up of many small interlocking scales. The only parts exposed were her eyes, and
a fair amount of her hair was running down her back. Also, when Stryk looked down slightly, she
noticed a flash of red at Sara's throat, and was rather curious.
"So, how the hell did that happen? What is that? A symbiote?" Sara shook her head, then
looked at Stryk cooly. As she started to speak, the armour rippled away from her mouth, leaving the
lower third of her face exposed. "Nope, this isn't a symbiote. Those only exist in science fiction
novels. This is a suit of trainable combat armour, made up of titanium and micro-polymer weave.
Also, I control it through a subvocal microphone currently implanted in my pendant, of which only
the ruby is now visible. Nifty huh?" Stryk could only nod, then watched as Sara strapped the knife
to her right calf and was dumbfounded as the leather straps holding it there were covered by the
armour in a strange rippling motion.
The same happened when Sara belted the hip pack to her right side, but the belt holding the
scabbard of the sword was not covered by the armour when Sara looped it over her right arm. "Okay,
you look like you're going into a war zone." Sara shrugged, then jumped out of the room and told
Stryk to get out of there before she closed it. Stryk followed, utilizing some of her inhuman reflexes
to get out of the room before the panel closed. Sara gestured for upstairs, and the two women went
into Sara's room where she opened the safe, and removed her twin magnums along with a gunbelt
designed for quickdraws, and eight extra magazines. Sara quickly checked the guns for any serious
wear and tear, then reloaded them so they held nine bullets instead of the usual eight.
After the maintenance was over, Sara put the guns into the belt, and buckled it around her
waist, letting the gun on the right side drop lower than on the left. Sara turned around to look at
Stryk, then struck a semi-heroic pose. "So, what do I look like? Something that inspires fear, or
something that inspires laughter?" Stryk, caught up in Sara's good humour, chuckled slightly, but
shook her head. "Okay, how about this?" Sara murmured something, and the armour rippled slightly,
appearing to shrivel slightly along her legs and torso, but her left arm swiftly extruded a three-foot
long metallic spike, and the right unfurled an amazingly long whip from the wrist. At the same time,
Sara donned the cape that she had hidden behind her back for the last few minutes, and wrapped the
greyish material around her.
"Okay, this looks like I'm a comic book hero or villain, depending on your point of view."
Stryk grinned and applauded the appearance, but jumped slightly when something tapped her shoulder
from behind. Spinning around, Stryk saw the tip of Sara's whip hovering in the air just below
shoulder level, and suddenly felt the point of the metal spine pricking the base of her neck. "Rule
number one, Erin. Never turn your back on someone like me. Now, I saw you look at those news
articles, and those exist as proof that I am more than a very angry ghost, flitting around the world."
Stryk nodded, feeling slightly concerned about the amazing speed Sara moved at.
"Okay, you've proven your point. Can you deactivate your armour now?" Sara nodded,
whispered something, and Stryk saw the whip disappear at the same time she felt the spike remove
itself from her neck. Turning around, Stryk saw Sara standing there, in her normal clothes, but with
the addition of the myriad belts and pieces of ordnance to her normal clothes. Sara then unbelted
everything, tossing the knife, magnums, and hip pack into the safe and putting the sword down
carefully beside the small table near the window. The only two things she didn't remove were a purple
belt wrapped diagonally around her hips, and the pendant which was still seated between her
collarbones.
"Okay, you seem to have more than a few secrets hidden in your pockets, but I won't pry too
much. Now, I may as well wander off before anything bad happens, but I'm going to return
eventually. I'll talk to you at school." Sara nodded, and after Stryk changed to her nighttime clothes,
she was ushered out the back door. Stryk grinned at Sara, waved quickly, and jumped over to the
roof of the third house to the south. Sara went back into her house, and after looking at the book on
the table, and at the clock, which was telling her that it was almost two in the afternoon, she decided
to go to a club for a little while.
Sara drove to a club she had seen when leaving the school, and after going through her usual
routine of making sure no damage would be incurred to her bike, she walked inside and was nearly
bowled over by six teens heading to a table, already surrounded by what looked like every member
of the teenage male population in the city. Sara, feeling very curious, walked over and simply shoved
her way through to the inner ring. Looking down slightly, she saw four girls playing poker, of which
one was really cleaning up. Smiling slightly, Sara watched as a girl went too far, lost the remaining
chips in her pile, and was forced to drop out. Before anyone could object, Sara dropped into the
recently vacated seat, and just as the next dealer started to complain, Sara flashed several bills of large
denominations into her face.
"Alright miss, you can play. Starting ante is reset to five dollars." Sara quickly converted four
hundred dollars into chips, and smiled at the hefty bonus due to the exchange rate. The girl who was
stacking her chips smiled slightly and looked nervous. Sara knew that it was an act, evidenced by the
large stack of chips, barely outstripped by her own. "Okay, let's get this show on the road." Sara
muttered under her breath as she was dealt her first hand. Looking at the hand, she was surprised to
notice that she already had three of a kind, and could probably coast to a fair win on that alone. After
putting in the required ante, Sara let the betting commence, and noticed that the losers were both
betting very aggressively, while her primary competitor was betting more cautiously.
Within twenty minutes and five hands, the two aggressive betters were down to only a few
low-denomination chips, while Sara and the other girl had increased their stack sizes by about 40%.
*This is turning out to be a good game. Now let's see who'll win today.* Sara put in the ante, and
smiled as her hand arrived. Without even looking at her cards, she tossed in a fifty-dollar chip and
cocked her head to the side. The other three girls shuddered, but they called Sara's bet, despite being
left with no money for the two aggressive ones. The cautious better looked long and hard at Sara's
unreadable face, then folded.
"Good choice." Sara slowly flipped her hand over with one finger, revealing the ten, Jack,
Queen, King and Ace of spades. The entire group around the table gasped in horror as Sara added
another hundred and ten dollars to her pile, then she flipped over the other girl's cards. Her hand was
a four of a kind, all nines. "Good game. Look, I have to go somewhere in about ten minutes, so let's
finish this now. All the chips, one hand of blackjack. What do you say?" The girl nodded and shoved
her entire stack into the centre of the table. Sara did the same, and noticed that the table was
beginning to creak and groan from the strain over having almost four thousand dollars worth of chips
heaped on the weakest point.
The cards were dealt, and Sara looked at hers. *Hmm. Two kings and an Ace. That makes
me the winner if I play.* Sara nodded at the girl, so the younger person put her cards down first.
*Three fours? That's no contest. Hell, I don't even need the money.* Sara smiled, put her hand face
down on the table, and slowly pushed the pile of chips to the girl's side. "You win. Have a good day."
Sara then got up, and slowly walked over to the bar on the opposite side of the room. Sitting on a
stool, she asked for a bottle of coke, then waited for the girl to discover that if she had wanted to,
Sara could have gotten every last penny out of her.
Soon, the girl sat down beside her, pack now bulging with bills. "So, why'd you do that? I
thought only desperate people played cards." Sara shrugged. "Or bored people. What am I going to
do with a few thousand extra? Hell, I have enough money to keep a comfortable lifestyle for myself
that'll last me almost twenty years. So, now that you're in a bit of light, lemme look at you for a sec."
Sara half-turned in her seat and glanced at the girl, then grinned. "Well, I'm not that surprised that
you're here Hazel. So didja have fun?" Hazel nodded, then ordered a coke as well. "Y'know, when
I turned over your cards, everyone saw you had me beat, and a few thought I should give you all the
cash.
Sara frowned, and finished off her drink. "Bullshit. You won fairly, and if they give you any
crap I'd happily clock one or two. Despite the fact that I gave up, you played a good hand, and only
lost through bad luck. Now, how's your homework?" Hazel smiled, then shook her head. "In your
class or in others? Lemme see, you haven't given us any work yet, except for the usual writing in
class. For all the others? Well, I don't do my work anyhow, so it doesn't matter." Sara shrugged.
"Fine, it's your future kid. I gotta go, but I'll see ya around." With that, Sara paid and tipped the
bartender, got up, and left the club in time to see the last rays of sunlight disappear into the man-made
canyons to the west. *Well, I have a day left before I have to be at the damned warehouse, so I'm
going to do a quick scouting mission, just to see what I'm going into.*
Sara drove north to the warehouse district, and after dredging the number out of her memory,
she went over to where the sheet-metal structure stood and watched through a window as several
large men moved around several of the crates inside the building. Sara glanced at her watch as she
quickly surveyed the layout, and realized that she'd better get home in time to watch the late news.
Sara then drove to her house, observant for any tails, but she had picked up none, and after she
arrived and had put away her bike, she noticed a hand-written note stuck to the door. Grabbing the
note, Sara read it as she turned on her laptop to check her mail.
"Dear Miss D'Arnise. I have some information about your 'enhancements' that you may want
to listen to. Please contact me through E-mail, or come over to my house relatively soon. The
information may have great consequences, and what you do in the future may be impacted by the
information revealed.
Sincerely, Dr. Anthony Zacharias."
Sara raised her eyebrows, reread the note three times, then put it down and logged on to her
internet account to check her mail. After wading through several hundred junk messages, Sarah had
whittled the size of her inbox to only fifteen messages, none of which had any impact on the meeting
at midnight tomorrow. Sara read all of them, noticing one from Dr. Sorbie, which she immediately
replied to, then turned off the computer. *Okay, I think I should bring my laptop over to Zack's so
I can show him this message from Sorbie. After all, maybe I can get both men to get into some
correspondence together.*
Sara put the computer into its carrying case, then walked out of her house, locking the door
behind her. Instead of driving to Zack's house, she just walked to the heavily fortified building that
was at a corner intersection. She walked through the wrought-iron gate, and keeping on the path, she
walked to the front door, and knocked briskly on it. Sara felt something odd about the door though,
and on closer inspection, she noticed that it was painted to look like an oak door, but was actually
made of heavy-gauge steel.
The door opened soon after, and Sara found herself face-to-collar with the esteemed Dr.
Zack. "Good evening doc. I got your message about twenty minutes ago, and wanted to clear my
other messages first. So, may I come in?" Sara waited quietly as Dr. Zack arranged his thoughts,
occasionally tapping one of her fingers on her thigh. "Well, It seems that we won't get anything done
on the front stoop, so please, come inside. I apologise for the delay in the invite, but I was thinking
of a chemical theorem that I need to put on paper soon." Sara nodded, smiling slightly and entered
the main foyer of Zack's house.
Looking around, she instantly noticed that the foyer looked slightly utilitarian, but she
followed Dr. Zack upstairs after he beckoned her to follow him. Sara went up the short slight of stairs
to the living room, studying almost everything she saw with her usual negligent intensity. When she
arrived in the living room, Sara saw that one of the three chairs was occupied, and by a close friend
to boot. "Well, how are you this fine day Six? You seem to be a lot healthier than when I first saw
you." Sara smiled, and offered her hand to her friend. Leaning closer, Sara whispered "How's your
leg? Acting up any?" Six smiled, shook her head, and nodded towards the empty chair to her left.
Sara accepted the invitation, and sat down, putting the carrying case for her laptop down beside her.
Dr. Zack had also sat down in a large armchair across from her, and was stoking a pipe that
looked like it was older than her. "So, could you tell me what's so important about my
'enhancements' as you so eloquently called them?" Sara leaned forwards slightly, resting her elbows
on her knees as she looked at Zack. Six grinned and leaned back somewhat, content to play watchful
observer. Dr. Zack finished tamping some tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, lit it, and then turned his
attention to Sara. "Well, Miss D'Arnise, I said that I had analysed your blood, and have found
something quite unnerving. Apparently, the nanomachinery in your bloodstream have enhanced
themselves through several generations.
"Also, the machinery has begun to take upon itself extra tasks such as advanced cellular
repair, and what appears to be construction of red blood cells from remains of the old ones. Now, I
actually managed to pull the original specs of what your nanotech looked like off the 'net, and I have
an image of the current ones in your blood. Let me show you the difference." Zack got up, still
puffing away on his pipe, and picked up a computer disk as Sara pulled out her laptop. She booted
up the machine, and put the disk in, minutes before activating a graphics program. Looking at the
original nanobot, which was a simple skeleton with a few manipulative arms and a miniaturized
thruster on the back, and comparing it to the 'evolved' version which had a heavy casing, many more
manipulators, and better control systems that were visible.
"Good god! I'm surprised that those things haven't had any programming glitches yet. Could
you tell me what the side effects of the enhanced systems are?" Dr. Zack nodded as Sara set up her
laptop to display the images side-by-side right before she activated her E-mail program and selected
the message she got from Sorbie. "Well, apparently, you'll suffer from limited cellular decay, thereby
slowing your aging process. Also, you'll have less need for blood transfusions due to the afore-
mentioned cellular repair having extended to encompass your red cells." Sara's eyes had increased
in size to approximately the level of golf balls, and she silently tapped the screen of the laptop as she
understood the implications of the message Dr. Sorbie sent her.
"My god. Dr. Zack, Six, you might want to look at this." Sara turned the laptop to Dr. Zack,
and let Six crowd her slightly as both people read the message.
"Selina: The nanotech implanted into your system will upgrade itself at a regular rate until an
approximate time-frame of five years has passed. At that point, they may diverge, and on the
divergent path, the machines would turn you into what could best be called an Ebola Mary. If you're
lucky enough to not suffer through that path, the nanomachines will stop upgrading themselves, and
only multiply at a rate required to sustain their current population. I'm sending you two pictures of
what the machines would look like if they changed to the plague variety, compared to the benign
version.
I pray that you are lucky. Sincerely, Dr. Charles Sorbie."
Six and Dr. Zack looked at the files that had been attached, and they both relaxed quickly
when the benign version appeared on the screen, showing itself to be virtually identical to Sara's
current batch in almost every way. Dr. Zack sat back down in his seat, and rubbing his forehead, he
sighed. "Amazing. I cannot believe what a close call we have just had. You, my young friend, could
be considered the only organic weapon of mass destruction in the world. I do not envy you. In all
honesty, I recommend that you pray to whatever higher power you believe in. Please, could you copy
all the files you have on your nanotech into a CD sometime? I would greatly appreciate it, since it
would help boost further research on your condition."
Sara nodded, then looked at her hands. "I've had these machines in me for the last four and
a half years. Now, from what I've seen, I'm on a fast track to be on the benign route, but I have six
months of mental torture to go through, mainly because I don't know whether or not they will change
into a plague." She looked like she was going to cry, and Six moved to try and reassure Sara.
"Honestly, I wonder about the morals of the people who produced your nanomachines, and
am appalled at the risk they have run by literally taking a chance on you, and the world to boot." Dr.
Zack sighed and shook his head, "Now, from what that message said, I can guess that your
nanomachines have three overriding programs.
"Number 1: fix any damage done to you on a cellular level. Number 2: Upgrade themselves
to be more efficient and capable of repairing more complex damage. And, Number 3: Cancel any
subsequent upgrades at the five-year mark, and only allow the nanomachines to repair your damage
and maintain their current levels. However, we have proof that only two of those programs work,
and there may be bugs in the third."
Sara looked at Dr. Zack, who was now chewing worriedly on the stem of his pipe. "How do
you know that the first two work?"
Dr. Zack smiled slightly. "Well, if the first program had failed, you'd be dead. If the second
one had failed, you'd still have the primitive 'base' machines instead of the highly advanced ones that
you do have. The question mark is the third program. If it's buggy, you'll still have upgrades, but run
the risk of accidentally creating a plague that would almost certainly wipe out most life on Earth."
Sara shuddered, then asked if she could leave so she could absorb the information she had just
been fed. Even before Dr. Zack nodded, Sara walked briskly outside, and as soon as she got into fresh
air, she ran to her house, and went inside. After closing and locking the door, and after she put the
computer on its shelf, Sara went around the house, locked every door and window, and as she
entered her room and lay down on the bed, she suddenly broke down and cried herself to sleep.