Forgotten Reality
Chapter Two: Confronting The Gun
Chapter Two. You know the drill: Read, review!
Though Cybersix had never considered the police to be an obstacle before (they were as appreciative as the rest of the city when it came to Von Reichter's messes), the station seemed to have a threatening aura as she neared it. Searching her brain for the still fuzzy memory of Enrique's office window, she leaped to the roof of the station and waited. When no alarms rang out, and no enforcement crowded up to catch her, she relaxed slightly and headed for the east side of the building.
Jumping down to the tiniest of tiny ledges, Cybersix slowly tpp ed her way to Enrique's window. Peering in, she could see that he was alone and working dutifully on some paperwork. She gave several soft taps on his window, careful that the sound wouldn't slip through any of the open windows on that side of the building. Seconds later, the window clicked open, and Enrique leaned out past the shutter. he exclaimed when he saw her, and pulled out his gun.
she cried. He seemed to hesitate, but aimed the gun at her head regardless. Don't shoot me, she pleaded. I don't mean you harm, you can see that, can't you?
How'd you get up here? he asked sharply.
I climbed... please, let me in, I want to talk to you.
We can talk out here. And frankly, I don't think I can trust you not to attempt to hurt me. You're the one running around in leather and a cape. What do you think you are, some sort of action hero?
No, that's not it at all. Please, Enrique, I want to- The cold metal of the gun pressed into the bridge of her nose, and Cybersix felt her knees go weak with fear.
You know my name. Who told you?
Please, it's... too long a story... let me talk to you.
We're talking now. What the hell do you want?
Cybersix remained silent for few moments. I need to know if you hate me. If... if the whole town hates me.
I'd think the last one would be obvious. In a nutshell, yeah, most of the town wishes you'd up and get the bloody hell out. They figure you're bringing us all bad luck. I'm not too keen on you either, but personally I don't hate you. Seeing as how I haven't even met you till tonight. Enrique hesitated, then replaced his gun, crossed his arms, and looked at her. You're not nearly as threatening up close, you know. Almost... pretty.
Cybersix lowered her gaze. One more thing, she said softly, purposely not responding to Enrique's compliment, have you ever met a boy named Julian?
Julian.... oh. You must mean that kid who was dumped on the steps of the old theater. It's a shame, really - did you know him? Someone should have told you...
Told me what? Cybersix looked up in alarm.
Well... they found him dead. Apparently due to malnutrition and cold.
Cybersix reeled, and nearly fell from the ledge.
Enrique put out a hand to steady her. Are you all right?
she stammered, and leaped to the roof, out of his view. Through a haze of shock and pain, she listened intently as Enrique went back into his room (not bothering to close the window) and settled back in at his desk. After several minutes, she heard a few men enter the room. Evidently they were friends with Enrique.
Hey, you see the paper this morning?
Yeah, aNOTHer sighting.
Think she's pretty?
...she's not too bad, I wouldn't think. This was Enrique.
Wonder if she's anything good in the sack.
Probably a she-devil.
Likes B
Oooh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?
Hey, come on, you two. Lay off it for a night - I'm exhausted, you guys up to a cup of coffee?
Damn straight we are. A few moments, and the door clicked shut.
Cybersix let out a hoarse cry of anguish. This was wrong. This was not her Meridiana, nor her Enrique, nor her Lucas. Where were the people she knew? Julian, dead? Data 7 nonexistent? It was all too much, just simply too much. Weakly, she got to her feet. The next thing in her mind was to check on Mikae, the teenage CyberX-1. After all, Mikae had been extremely interested in Cybersix even before Von Reichter approached her. It made sense.
She leaped from the roof of the police station seconds later, an air of determination about her caped figure.
Mikae, meanwhile, was finishing up some homework on her computer while chatting with her friend Jeremy in a private conversation.
sHaDoWs: Shut up, Myst is NOT a better game than UT.
WallsOfJericho: You only say that because you haven't played it.
sHaDoWs: Do I get a gun in Myst?
WallsOfJericho: No, you solve puzzles and stuff.
sHaDoWs: Well, what the hell's the point unless I get a Flak Cannon?
WallsOfJericho: Oh come on, Mikae, it's a really cool game. You can borrow my copy, okay? And I'll let you borrow my Myst journal if you need it.
sHaDoWs: Then you have to agree to take me on in an Internet Deathmatch in UT.
Cybersix watched this exchange with some interest, slipping noiselessly through Mikae's open window. She noted that Mikae's screen name had changed, and she wasn't talking in the Are They Real? chatroom that she had been so involved with before. Worried that Mikae might be as callous as Enrique had been, Cybersix decided to try a different approach. She cleared her throat softly, and as Mikae turned around her chair, Cybersix held up her hands in a gesture of defeat. Please, don't scream.
Damnation, woman! Give me a heart attack.... The hell are you doing here?! What do you want with me?! Mikae turned back to the computer and quickly typed in a message.
sHaDoWs: You won't beLIEVE this; Cybersix is in my ****ing room!
WallsOfJericho: Ask her if she's single!
sHaDoWs: Go play your puzzle games! Or call the police or something!
Mikae wheeled around again.
Don't call the police. I just came from there.
The teenager wrote something else to Jeremy, signed off, and turned back to Cybersix. Okay. Now you answer my questions, or I'll call my mom up here.
Ask away, Cybersix answered, somewhat pleased that Mikae hadn't pointed a gun at her - then realized that Mikae probably didn't have a gun to point.
Who are you?
...okay, WHAT are you? If you were normal you couldn't have gotten in through my window. I've tried to do that and the drainpipes are too rusty, even for me.
I'm a genetically enhanced lifeform... it's difficult to explain.
Are you here to hurt me?
No. I just wanted to talk.
Why? I'm not special.
Cybersix rubbed her temples slowly. The thing is... you were. Ever hear of a man called Von Reichter?
Never in my life. Mikae frowned. Look, is there something you want? I'm sure my mom could make you something to eat - if I'm friends with you she won't ask too many questions.
Cybersix smiled. Why, do you have trouble making friends?
None of your goddamn business, Mikae snapped, crossing her arms. Don't you be getting all chummy with me; I don't know you and I don't know if I WANT to know you. Can you just leave?
...yes, I can leave. I found out what I needed to know, anyway. Cybersix sat down on the windowsill, swiveling to tuck her legs outside.
Mikae stepped forward, a puzzled look on her face. What... did you need to know?
That you aren't my Mikae, and, more importantly, you aren't CyberX-1. Leaving Mikae to make sense of that cryptic statement, Cybersix slipped out of the window, disappearing into the shadows.
If Lucas, Enrique, AND Mikae don't know me, then this isn't a bad place to check out. Cybersix was crouched behind several crates at Warehouse 57 - also known as José's waterfront headquarters. If he's here, I can get some answers.
After checking for patrolling Fixed Ideas (and finding none), she silently crossed the pavement to the wide doors of the warehouse. She pressed her ear to one, straining her senses to hear anything from the inside, but couldn't make out even a low undertone of voices. Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb, she thought, almost smiling, remembering what a drama teacher had said to use for the sounds of a crowd mumbling. She quickly brushed that out-of-place memory aside, however, and through open the doors, expecting to find a whiny brat ordering his minions around.
What she found was a dark, unlit room, stocked with crate after crate of.. something. No José, no Fixed Ideas, no quivering Types. Her mind reeling, flooded with the onslaught of impossibilities she had just faced in a row, she darted into the room, looking behind the crates and the poles of the warehouse. Finally, with absolutely nothing to go on and positively no clue what had happened to her, she twisted around wildly, eyes wide, and screamed to the empty warehouse, What the HELL is happening to me?!