The Other Box (by Elliot Bowers)
Chapter 1: Dark Discovery
_____"Ha ha hah..." The metaphysicist laughed to himself as he looked over the
notes in his notebook, which was set on the somewhat cracked formica table.
The formica table was in the middle of this room--a bare and poorly lit place.
_____This was a temporary lab, only illuminated by the single flourescent
light on the damaged ceiling. This scientist had to clear junk, trash and
human bones from here to make it passably clean enough for today's work.
He would have had his two bodyguards do the labor for him; some of the
metal junk in here was too heavy to remove. But, in the end, the labor was
worth it. This was an excellent place for hidden activities.
_____And...! There was good reason for him doing today's scientific operations
in secret: What he was doing in this room could be so destabilizing and dangerous
that there would surely be laws instantly invented-just to ban what he was doing
now. Laws, made by the holy mega-computer in the floating City of Zalem. Laws,
which were enforced by metal-bodied professional killers down in Scrap Iron
City. The professional killers seemed to like killing, really....
_____And then, for once in his life, this professionally dressed madman felt
something that truly overpowered his hunger for sweet, tasty flan. These were
odd, troubling stirrings that he felt ever since he accidentally came across
something new in his metaphysical experiments.
_____But, the madman did not LOOK like someone dangerous; he did not look like
a man capable of destruction. He was but a man of very modest physical build--
physically frail. And his hair was graying, swept back owlishly at the sides,
and his face was well-lined. A look of age and experience. Not strong of body,
but quite strong of mind.
_____Strength of mind was key because the madman, Dr. Desty Nova, was a
scientist. An expatriat of Zalem, he was a topmost scientist of nanotechnology
and metaphysics. THIS was why he was dangerous; the man experimented with the
fabric of reality itself. The only reason why a price wasn't placed on his
head was because few people could understand the depths of his work. Any
minute, any second, someone would come for him. Or, more exactly, come for
his head.
_____Dr. Nova put those thoughts out of his head--so to speak. After today's
tasks, he would be long-gone from this room... On the run. Off to run to some
other God-forsaken hideway. Then again, most all of Scrap Iron City was God-
forsaken: a darkened city of jumbled industrial buildings in which the
impoverished masses of people--humans and cyborgs--worked their slow and
broken lives away. Life here really stomped people down to nothing; life was
a misery either cut short by violence or prolonged by cyborg technology.
_____Poverty, pollution, pain... All of that in this ultra-industrialized
mega-city: A city that looked like a bastardized cross between an oversized
shantytown and an industrial complex--a city that was thousands and thousands
of miles square.
_____This city was a darkened and ruined land. This was a city which was
toxic to body and spirit. THIS was where Dr. Nova lived.
...
_____Ah well... Doctor Nova did not care for that In fact, in the midst of
his latest experiment, he did not even care for flan! That, though an
ever-so-slight sense of dizziness made him almost hesitate his current work.
_____His work, which was being done in this temporary lab, had to continue!
"Ha hah hah..." he went, a somewhat hollow laugh. The laugh was more to
alleviate his "something-is-wrong" feeling...
_____Going over a few more lines of notes done up scientific notation and
technical phrasing, he took a small object out of his left pocket and set it
on the formica tabletop. Despite the low florescent lighting in this room,
the small object was clearly visible.
_____It was a little box. One that seemed to be made of blue-painted wood.
That is, for now, it was a little box; it could turn into anything else at any
time.
_____He now picked it up in both hands. And he was suddenly surprised with
what the box did next. Almost dropped the thing! Amazing! Astounding!
Impossible!
_____He just saw the box CHANGE itself. Before, it was just a plain hollow
cube. Now there was a little handle atop the little box. A handle just big
enough that one could pull on it by pinching with two fingers....
_____"Ha hah hah...! Whoops!" He clamped a hand over his own mouth to
stifle his own laughter. Well now, he didn't want anyone to hear him! Being
killed now would be a major inconvenience to his work.
_____And then there was the sound of the door SLAMMING open. "WHAT!" shouted
the lab-coated metaphysicist, spinning himself around to look at who the
intruder was!
_____But...there was no one there! No one at all! He DID hear the door slam
open. Or, did he? The door was still closed. But he was SURE he heard it
SLAM open, as if someone kicked his or her way in.
_____He crossed the cracked floor and went over to the door. He touched the
rusty surface with his left hand. The door was definitely still closed...
He was hearing things! Yes, yes, that's it!
_____"The door did NOT open..." muttered Dr. Nova. "I did not not REALLY
hear it open."
_____He turned and went back to the table--notebook and mystery box on it.
Back to the task at hand...!
....
_____Back at the table, he picked up the box. He set his left thumb and
forefinger on the little handle, then flinched when noises began exploding
in this room! Like sounds of Hellish jackhammers slamming against the walls
and the doors!
_____BANG, BANG, BANG...! SLAM-SLAM-SLAM...! BANGING and SLAMMING sounds
were coming from behind the walls. Something was BANGING at the door.
_____So LOUD! These were sounds so loud that Dr. Nova had to put the box
down on the cracked formica table as so he could cover his ears. It sounded
as if someone or something wanted to get into this room from behind the
walls--or from inside the walls.
_____"HA-HAH!" went Dr. Nova. "I AM NOT HEARING THAT AT ALL!" he shouted, his
voice drowned out by the lound banging sounds! "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! THE
NOISE IS ALL IN MY HEAD!"
____As if in response to Dr. Nova's denial, the noises picked up! In fact,
this scientist saw the tabletop shake from the loudness. BANG-BANG-BANG!
Such maddeningly loud noise! "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING AT ALL!"
_____And then it stopped.... No more loudness. There was no more sound of
imaginary Hellish fists banging on the walls. Was he becoming more insane than
he already was?
_____"Hah hah, it must have been hallucination. Ha hah hah..." chuckled the
lab-coated metaphysicist. If the sounds had been real, then the makers of the
sound would not have stopped when he shouted: his voice was not loud enough to
have been heard above the racket.
_____His eyes widened when he looked at the box again, which changed again!
"AMAZING!" he shouted, then winced--mentally chiding himself for being so loud.
He had forgotten to be quiet. Someone could overhear him, and that would NOT
be a halucination. But this latest development confirmed one of his earlier
suspicions.
_____Again, back to work. Since the noises, the box had undergone another
change: It had changed its size and color; now it was larger. Before, it
was small enough to fit in his left pocket. Now it was large enough to hold
a human head, and its paint became as red as blood.
_____Dr. Nova reached for a pen and stooped over to write these latest changes
down in the notebook: "Change in physical properties--growth in size, new
red color." SLAM!
_____"Hmmph! Hallucinations, nothing more..." he went, still writing. Maybe,
the box was able to affect his sanity. After all, he knew almost nothing about
its properties. Later, he should analyze the box's unexplained ability to
amplify paranoia--to the point of inducing auditory hallucinations.
_____He only paused in his note-taking when he heard footsteps. Footsteps,
coming towards him from behind. "Hmm hmm hmm... Yet more halucinations," he
said aloud. "Am I supposed to care? Maybe, or maybe not?"
_____"A halucination?" went a voice--the voice of a young and serious girl.
"Or, are we yet all nothing but halucinations in this prolonged dream called
life?" The voice darkened. "However, if you are my target, then your dream
will soon awaken due to the REALITY of my blade!"
_____Dr. Nova chose to not stand and turn around just yet. Because, if he did,
the female bounty hunter behind him would get a clear look at his face and
height. Then she would kill him straight off, probably with great pleasure:
murderously sadistic pleasure. Bounty hunters, all of them sadists!
_____And suddenly, somehow, he KNEW the bounty hunter's name. Though he never
met her before, never knew the sound of her voice before, he knew her. Or,
maybe he just BELIEVED he was familiar with the stranger behind him--another
psychosomatic side-effect of exposure to the box?
_____Yes, THE box! Its properties were mysterious. Just perhaps, it had given
him some psychic ability? Considering how THE box was made, and what he knew of
it, such was very possible. That, and THE box was capable of much more.
_____Still without turning around, he some how KNEW how this intruder looked--
a bounty hunter. The female did not look like a bounty hunter. The dark-eyed
and pretty-faced girl was just under five feet tall, petite--her lithe body
clad in a tight sleeveless bodysuit the color of midnight. Dark, to match her
shimmering black-silken hair and large night-colored eyes. But the term "girl"
did not fully fit her, because the "girl" wasn't fully human.
_____She was a cyborg. Her shoulder-length dark hair was silken polymer, and
her pretty faace was synthetic flesh... Her lithe body was, in truth, sculpted
metal machinery. She was a metal-bodied doll of a peron, one with murderous
capabilities.
_____A simple blade in hand, this petite and pretty killer was now behind
Dr. Nova. Maybe tonight would be inconvenient...because he could die here.
_____"May I ask you some things?" asked Dr. Nova, pen still paused on the
notebook page. "That is, if would let me. I want to talk..." He smacked
his lips. "And why do I sudddenly have a stronger hunger for flan? Mmm...flan...
Did you, by any chance, bring any?"
_____"BE SILENT! DO NOT ATTEMPT VERBAL TRICKERY WITH ME!" shouted the petite
professional killer. "I am but milliseconds from severing your gray-haired
head from your body! How is THAT for flan?"
_____"Hmm... I should have flan in this box..." said Dr. Nova, smiling. "Or,
I could have a very illegal gun in there. Which do you think...GALLY?"
_____"I choose this way," she said, taking steps towards the scientist. "I
choose to complete tonight's business now." And she smiled...
_____Dr. Nova gagged when Gally's blade pierced his back. Well, THIS was
certainly inconvenient! How was he to continue his work? He tried to say
something, but instead vomited a gush of blood.
_____Not that he noticed, but the blade was taken out of his back. The petite
cyborg-girl stood back, blood dripping on the blade. She watched and waited
for the man to die, watched him stagger about drunkenly.
_____Then he reached for the box! As he began falling over, he reached out
and KNOCKED it off of the formica table. It hit the cracked and gritty floor,
then opened. And everything went wrong!
_____Darkness... There was darkness in that box. The cyborg-girl tried to
turn and run, but the darkness closed over her. And she felt herself tumbling.
The floor was gone! Falling, she looked up... No ceiling! There was nothing
here but the sound of wind as she fell and fell into darkness.
...
_____It was a troubling, sickening sort of darkness. There was a sense of
being twisted and spun around, swirling fear and pain. Gally screamed--but
her scream was snatched away by the air. She was falling so fast now that
the air snatched her voice away. She screamed again.
_____It was another futile scream. Another scream that went nowhere. She
thought that no one heard her scream. But then, someone screamed back: the
scientist she just knifed!
_____The bastard, he was STILL ALIVE! But she thought that she KILLED him.
The blade peirced his body, cutting the heart and left lung. How the HELL did
Dr. Nova still have strength enough to SCREAM? Just as Gally thought about
how she would try killing Dr. Nova again, she HIT something--and she went
unconscious.
...
_____The sidewalk was hard under Gally's body. But her metal body was harder.
She opened her bleary eyes, feeling too dizzy to stand. Dr. Nova probably had
a drugged gas in that box--a gas that somehow made it through her artificial
respitory system and into her brain. He DID play at trickery!
_____Gally's employer had put a reward of 666,000 credits for Nova's head. He
was listed as being "very, very dangerous," and she wanted to take his head.
But, it was not about the money. It was never about the money. It was about
the challenge, which piqued her curiousity; she never before saw a criminal
listing that read as "very, very dangerous." She simply HAD to take the
bounty.
_____And she WOULD find him. With that resolve, her dizzy headache went away,
and she was able to see clearly and get up. Standing on her boot-clad feet, the
armor-bodied female was able look around at the night-time urban surroundings.
_____Looking around, it was a scene lit by streetlamps and lights shining from
windows... This street was one in a decaying neighborhood--a neighborhood of
run-down buildings alongside dirt-lots populated by trailers. Some scraps
of trash was blown by the night breeze, blown along the street. The streetlamps
only made for light enough for the streets, so the people outside made for
their own illumination.
_____There were plenty of people out here--sitting outside the buildings.
Nearby, the dirt-lot with trailers bustled with life: talk and campfires,
accompanied by sounds of radios and televisions. Some other groups of people
had barrels of fire--full of burning wood and newspaper. A few groups even
had televisions propped up on old crates, showing various silly shows. The
campfires made things somewhat smoky here, but comfortable and not too loud.
The setting was made a bit more festive as people over there had strung some
jury-rigged in places with taped-together electrical cords.
_____Gally looked at that nearby vacant lot. Since the people there seemed
more talkative, even slightly festive, Gally walked over. With practiced
habit, she stepped around and avoided tripping over the scattered chunks of
junk here, which was here on the packed-dirt ground.
...
_____Going into the vacant lot, she approached a group of three people who sat
around one of the barrels of fire here, sitting on crates of wood. One of them
was a thin-looking and dapperly dressed old man--buttoned white shirt with
slacks, and suspenders. He stared into the fire, reflected flames in his eyes.
The two others here were the opposite of the old man: two young, tough-looking
teenage boys in leather jacket and jeans. Together, all three stared into the
fire.
_____"Please pardon my interruption into your meditations..." began Gally, "but,
have any of you seen a scientist pass through? He has swept-back gray hair, was
wearing a multi-pocketed lab coat. His breath smells of flan."
_____The Kindly Old Man slowly turned his head to face Gally, then put out
wheezing breaths. "Hah-h-h... Hah-h-h... Hah-h-h..." he went, huffing and
puffing. Gally feared the Kindly Old Man would keel over from respiratory
illness, but he eventually managed to speak. "You want to find HIM? But...who
will find YOU? Where do you FIND YOURSELF? CAN you find YOURSELF in THIS OTHER
CITY?"
_____"Can I be found?" asked Gally, speaking metaphorically. "I find myself
through confronting challenges and defeating them. I live through fighting."
She shook her head. "Now, for the task at hand. I seek a labcoat-wearing
fugitive--one name Dr. Nova. A fully human man of moderate age and troubled
appearance. Did he pass by here?"
_____"Hah-h-h..." wheezed the Kindly Old Man. "Dr. Nova passed through, indeed!
He passed through...THE breeze!" With that, there was a blast of wind that
made the campfire ripple. And the Kindly Old Man vanished!
_____There were still two other men seated at this fire, both of them as
surprised as Gally was--seeing that old man vanishing the way he did. Like...
Like magic!
_____"Oh SHIT! You were right, Zackus! It WAS him!" said the one on the
right. "He vanished like fuckin' MAGIC! Guess I owe you twenty creds next
trip to our bank. And I don't mean the body bank!"
_____The bank? Gally did not know what that was. Ignoring that odd reference,
she addressed the two teens. "Have either of you two seen the fugitive I
previously described? A tall, well-dressed man in a labcoat--wearing a tie
and with a hairstyle swept back at the sides?"
_____The one on the left shrugged. "I dunno, doll... Not too many of those
types come around here. Try going downtown... All sorts of scientist-looking
people in some of the buildings there." He leaned forward on the crate he
was sitting on. "Anyway, aren't you a little bit too young to go hunting
criminals? Take my advice, little girl. Why don't you leave that to the
Metro Cops?"
_____The one on the right added, "Stuff that! Don't help those kevlar-armored
bastards! Out here in the Fringes, we're all people. If that 'Dr. Nova'
wants to hide out here, I'd let him. Especially if he's hiding from creepy
little girls done up in sexy body armor!"
_____She ignored that comment about her metal physique. But, what odd terms...
Metro Cops? The Fringes? These were terms Gally never heard before. And
these two street-teens had odd accents she could not identify.
_____Then she began noticing other odd things. Little things. Like, how the
air smelled just a bit different--without the ever-so-slight ozone smell that
she was used to smelling. Looking around in this scrubby urban lot, she also
saw that all of those here seemed fully human; she was the only cyborg here.
Then she looked up at the sky...
_____There was a full moon up, but Zalem was not. There was no massive,
floating circular City of Zalem in the sky at all. In fact, the sky had no
floating city at all.
_____"This is not Scrap Iron City," she said. The two street-teenagers
laughed... "This is NOT Scrap Iron City!" she said again, more troubled. "But,
how did this come to pass?" And the two street-teens sitting by the barrel of
fire just kept laughing and laughing... They thought the metal-bodied little
girl was nuts.
_____"Hey doll. You're lost and sound just a little bit crazy. Did you take
a hit on the head?" said the street-teen on the right. "Why don't you go back
into the city proper and find yourself a cop? Yeah, your mommy is probably
worrying herself sick."
_____Someone else broke into the conversation, a male voice. "Her m-m-mommy?
Someone can't get good help these days-days-days?" continued the voice,
studdering some words. "Hey, we could all use a little HELP. I'd help-help-
help, if I c-c-could!"
_____Gally turned in the direction of the third voice, the glitching voice.
Looking around... She saw no one looking in her direction. But there was a
television pointed in her direction.
_____The voice had come from a television atop an upside-down metal barrel, a
television showing a close-up of a square-jawed blonde. Walking closer, Gally
saw that the man on the screen was not real; he had the plain-shaded look of
an early computer-generated image. So the 'stuttering' Gally heard was actually
faulty audio dubbing.
_____"A mere television show," she said aloud. "And, a poorly programmed one at
that. A television broadcast made to look as if it speaks to people."
_____"Just a tele-tele-TELEVISION show?" asked the man in the televison.
"Hey! Looks like your putting on a better sh-sh-show than I am! What's
the name of YOUR sitcom, huh-huh-huh? 'Little Dark Riding Girl'? Geez, I try
to help, and I get in-in-insults! No good deed goes unpunished!"
_____Gally approached the television, glanced at another television nearby.
None of them had the man on them. "Then, this is a two-way communication
device?" she asked. "How did you come to know where I was, and how did you
know I required assistance? Also, who are the 'Metro Cops'?"
_____The computer-generated man in the television sighed. "So-so-so many
quest-quest-questions from a stranger! Now, I'll give you answers. One, I just
happened to be in th-th-the neighborhood when I heard that you needed help from
the police. Two, the Metro Cops are the POLICE. Th-th-those are your answers,
in that order."
_____This was all becoming more odd and troubling by the moment. Not only did
Dr. Nova evade Gally, but he must have also had her transported to a completely
different city. A city with "police" instead of bounty hunters. A city that
seemed immensely far from Zalem. This was all so strange.
_____"Where do I find this 'police?'" asked Gally. "If they are who I believe
them to be, and if I correctly recall what was said to me, then they should
be able to assist me in my search of my bounty."
_____"You want to find a few Metro Cops, h-h-HMM?" went the man in the
television. He disappeared for a second, and Gally saw a few seconds of a
violent television show-- a man shooting a big gun at big trucks, blowing them
up.
_____Then the man in the television returned. "My dear," he began, "you are in
LUCK today, even if one of the Metro Cops isn't-isn't-isn't! Now, are you sure
you want to find the police?"
_____"Yes, I do wish to find this 'police,' as I said!" she said. "Where will
I find them?"
_____"Okey-dokey!" he answered. "Just go back to the street and go left. At
the intersection, you w-w-WILL find a Metro Cop. Gee-gee-GEEZ... I just hope
there's enough of him left by the time you get there!"
_____Gally smiled. A challenge! She dashed away from the man in the television
and to the street.
...
_____Turning left on the sidewalk, she ran... Indeed, a block away, in the
light of a streetlamp, two people fought. One was a man in bulky pad-like
kevlar and black face-covering helmet. The other was thin and much taller.
The man in bulky kevlar continued to punch and kick at the tall man, but the
tall man simply absorbed the blows--before punching the kevlar-wearing man
in the chest.
_____The one in the bulky kevlar and full helmet was losing... Blows to his
chest and head made him stagger. He must be the Metro Cop. Gally approached
in a hurry, seeing the Metro Cop stagger from a hit on the head by the tall
bald man.
_____Closer, she saw the condition of the other fighter. The Metro Cop in
kevlar was protected from impact wounds. But the tall bald one without
armor should have been dead: over a dozen bleeding bullet holes in his chest,
and dark blood dribbling from his mouth.
_____Also nearby were two other Metro Cops, in the same uniform as the one
fighting the tall bald man. Those two were on their backs, their arms and
legs splayed. Guns in hands, they must have also tried to subdue the tall
bald man.
_____Clearly, gunshots did not kill the tall bald man. Then, there was no
choice but for Gally to engage the enemy and defeat him--before that remaining
Metro Cop was beaten to death.
...
_____She moved like a dark wind from nearby, the slight sound of her feet
lightly and rapidly pattering. A leap in the air, and...
_____THUNK! As the cyborg-girl leapt past the tall bald-headed man, her fist
struck his jaw. The enemy staggered, his pulverized jaw suddenly as flabby as
flan. But still, he stood. Still stood...
_____Gally landed, skidded to a stop on the dark street. She turned and looked.
The tall bald-headed man still stood, but her titanium-fisted blow should have
nearly decapitated him. How was it that he still stood? How...?
_____The officer who was being attacked now spoke. "Nice try, girl. Get out
of here before this freak gets you, too." The tall bald man stepped closer to
the injured policeman. "Go away!" He said that to Gally, not to the threat
here.
_____Gally would not run from this interesting challenge. She would defeat
this new and strange type of opponent. Perhaps, this was Nova's work?
_____"I shall not flee!" she shouted, grinning. And she herself began to
approach the tall bald man, bullet holes in his chest and obliterated jaw.
She saw the tall bald man smiled a lopsided, distorted smile--oddly dark blood
coming from his lips.
_____Something was not quite right about the color of the tall bald man's
blood. SWISH...! Gally had to duck just as she had that thought; the tall
bald man had taken a swift swipe at her head.
_____But she was not fast enough to evade the following kick. She saw the
left foot coming at her head. Though she raised her forearms to block the
blow, there was still enough force from the attack to give her a knock on the
left cheek.
_____She had to think about this opponent; he was not to be underestimated. Not
only did his endurance exceed that of an ordinary human being, but his attacks
were quite swift.
_____A tall, swift opponent. Such an opponent could easily be defeated with
the right tactics. Namely, because the tall bald man relied on agility and
speed, a loss of that agility would put him at a severe disadvantage.
_____So Gally acted appropriately. She lashed out with her left leg, and
there was a meaty crack of a leg-bone being broken. The tall bald man began to
fall like a tall tree cut by an axe, threatening to fall down on the petite
cyborg.
_____Instead of evading, Gally did a quick step forward. Her right fist shot
straight up. And the moment seemed to freeze.
_____A crunch of sternum-bone breaking, and her fist was inside the chest of the
tall man--caught in mid-fall. His mouth and eyes were open in surprise. Gally
was below: kneeling, grinning.
_____She stepped quickly to the side, quickly pulling her fist from the man's
chest--making for a wet slurping sound. Her victim fell to the cracked street,
lit by the nearby streetlamp. That unusually dark blood formed a puddle around
the dead man's chest. This battle was done.
...
_____"Good job, kid," said the officer in bulky black kevlar. He moved--
slightly staggered--over to where the corpse lie in the light. "Damn, and to
think that bullets didn't down him!"
_____Gally waved her right hand about a bit to get some of the blood off of
the metal. Then she stared at it... "This is not ordinary blood," she said.
"It is more viscuous upon immediate exposure to air. Just perhaps, I presume
this enemy to be a mutant."
_____"Mutants...? We haven't had those yet, but the corporations always have
new things brewing in their research labs..." said the officer. He looked away
from the corpse. "Could you keep an eye on that freak while I check my
partners?" And he walked over to the two officers who were unconscious all this
time.
_____Gally did. She went closer to the still body of the tall bald man--whose
corpse bled absolutely dark blood. And she was sure it was not a trick of the
streetlighting; that blood was as dark as old-fashioned petroleum-oil--but
more slick and thick.
_____It had to be a mutant of sorts, but even mutated human beings went down
after being shot. Gally wanted to ask the officer about what he knew of this,
but he was chattering something into his small walkie-talkie and looking over
the injuries of his unconscious comrades-in-arms.
_____And then, bystanders came. They stood on the darker sidewalks and at the
intersection, looking at the scene. Some of them mumbled to each other about
how someone dared to attack Metro Cops. Others commented on the little girl's
form-fitting armor--and wondered what she was doing here. They wondered if the
Metro Cops were now promoting kids into their ranks.
...
_____But the bystanders could not speculate for too long. In minutes, plenty
of backup and other officers came to this scene--essentially, a cleanup crew.
As Gally and the first officer stood by, the officer with his helmet off, the
tall corpse was dumped in a gray truck. The injured officers were put on
stretchers and lifted into ambulances. Plenty other kevlar-clad Metro Cops
walked around the scene, using digital cameras to photograph the dark blood
pattern and small test-tubes to collect samples.
_____A male detective approached, one in black trenchcoat worn over dapper
clothes. "Hello, Murphy," he said. "Rough night... Impossibly rough, it
looks like. Damn, the perpetrator injured multiple cops!"
_____Gally looked up at the Metro Cop whom she helped save. "You are Murphy?"
she asked. "It is an interesting name. In fact, we have failed to exchange
names..."
_____The Metro Cop here smiled, chuckled. "Hah hah... You're right." He
held out his heavily gloved right hand to the small lithe cyborg. "I'm John
Murphy--Metro Cop. And you are...?"
_____Somewhat familiar with this hand-shaking custom, Gally put her right hand
in Murphy's. "I am Gally, a bounty hunter of Scrap Iron City. Yet, I take
into my profession more for challenge than crass gains." Then Murphy released
Gally's hand.
_____Detective Walthers spoke up. "Bounty hunter, huh? Didn't know there
were any bounty hunters in this town. Did you, Murphy?"
_____"Well, I'm just glad there was at least this one close by," responded the
kevlar-clad Metro Cop. "If it weren't for her, I'd be on the ground with
Jimbo and Samuk there... And we'd all probably be dead."
_____Detective Walthers looked more carefully at Gally. "That body armor of
yours looks pretty impressive, kid. Though I don't know why you have to wear
that gymnastic bodysuit over it. Is the armor experimental or something?"
_____"This armor IS my body, detective," said Gally, her expression saddening.
"All of my pysique consists of synthetics, electronics and machinery. My face
and hair are also synthetic. Yet my brain is real. At least, I continue to
believe so. Do you have too many questions to ask of me? Do you question my
HUMANITY?"
_____"Whoa... Whoa..." went Detective Walthers, raising his hands. "You're a
CYBORG? I didn't know your kind really existed! Corporate guys come up with
new medical technology all the time. I just didn't know that they could make
people into cyborgs yet. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.
Your body is your own business."
_____Murphy gently laid a hand on Gally's solid left shoulder. "Well, she saved
my life. She probably saved plenty other lives tonight, too, stopping that
freak the way she did."
_____Detective Walthers opened his black trenchcoat and put his hands in his
slacks pockets. "Yeah... You'll have to tell me about that. Murphy, you'll
have to write up a report to the Chief and all, and maybe Gally here will have
to add info to it. But could you, Gally, tell me a bit of something. Who the
Hell convinced you to attack that freak?"
_____"It was quite odd..." answered Gally. "A business-suited television man
told me to move and help. Or rather, the 'man' was a computer-generated, three-
dimensional image of a man."
_____"You mean Max Headroom told you to help?" asked Detective Walthers. "Let
me get this straight in my head. You just so happened to be in the
neighborhood, and Headroom was here, too? He was here, just as Murphy was being
attacked by that tall freak with the altered blood?"
_____"I cannot quite answer for the patterns of chance and events," said Gally.
"My own purpose in life is that of growth and improvement. That, done through
physical conflict. Yet, who is this Mr. Headroom?"
_____"Oh, you'll find out, Gally," chuckled Murphy as he looked around. The
other Metro Cops were dispersing; they were nearly done. "Stay in this city
long enough, and you'll find out plenty."
_____Gally looked up at Officer Murphy. "I was also told that I could gain
further information in meeting you. Currently, my target is a metaphysicist
named Dr. Nova. And he has proven himself to be as dangerous as listed. Have
you seen Dr. Nova?"
_____"I don't know who or what you're talking about, Miss Bounty Hunter," said
Detective Walthers. "Tell you what. Why don't you go down to the station
with Murphy? You can exchange plenty of information there. And, maybe we
can talk about helping you find this 'Nova' guy of yours."
...
_____Next stop was the police station to which Murphy was assigned--the 1st
Precinct. And Gally was more than a little encouraged to come along. She rode
with Murphy--in one of the plain black police cruisers with the white MC logo
on the side. The ride gave Gally a longer view of this city--this different
environment.
_____She was seated in the shotgun seat, the right passenger side of this
vehicle that Murphy drove. This car passed through many low-lit urban streets,
brick buildings along the impoverished streets. It was similar to, but not
exactly like, Scrap Iron City.
_____There were plenty of questions she wanted to ask. What was the name of
this city? How was it that those here thought that cyborg technology was
still experimental? And, did anyone have the slightest hint as to where Dr.
Nova was? But she best save those questions for arrival at the 1st Precinct.
...
_____In fact, the 1st Precinct was in the central downtown area--where the
apartments and office buildings were taller, more sleek, and neater. At
ground level, there were restaurants and shops--well-lit and well-kept. And
the people out at this hour were all well-dressed.
_____This police cruiser and several others pulled into the concrete slope
that led to the basement of the 1st Precinct--a surprisingly old-fashioned
looking, three-story building. It was one of the oldest, but also one of the
best-maintained buildings.
_____And it had to be the best-maintained building: the 1st Precinct was also
the primary headquarters for all Metro Cop administrative functions. From here,
all six police precincts were overseen. If anything required police attention,
the personnel at 1st Precint also knew about it.
....
_____In the basement parking lot, there were many black police cruisers parked.
With their own ride parked, Gally went with Murphy to the elevators at the far
end. Other officers walked by, chatting among themselves. Another Metro Cop
greeted Murphy when he stepped into the elevator. They talked about the latest
incident...
_____The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Up here was a large,
florescent-lit room with plenty of wide desks on the beige marble floor. There
must be about twenty desks here, and seven of them had helmetless Metro Cops
seated at them. Though some of them were women, it was hard to tell as kevlar
body armor gave everyone a uniform bulky look. Sounds of Metro Cops were on
telephones and taking notes.
_____"Okay, Gally," said Murphy. "This is pretty much where we Metro Cops
make our homes when we're on duty. Let's go over to my desk..." He was going
to put a hand on one of Gally's bare metal shoulders, but a glance from her
told him not to do so.
_____They went between desks, went over to a desk near the west end of this
room. A folded metal chair leaned against it. Murphy unfolded it, set it
in front of his desk. Gally sat, knees together and solid hands folded across
her lap.
_____Sitting behind the desk, Murphy looked around and took out a long notepad
from a drawer. "Sorry about the chatter; this place always sounds busy..."
He opened the notepad to a new page, wrote the day's date along the top line.
"First, let's get some formalities out of the way. I have to get some basic
questions. Your name is 'Gally.' Do you have a family name, or is that it?"
Seconds passed, and there was no answer. "Is something wrong?"
_____Gally blinked. She then spoke just loudly enough to be heard. "As far
as I have a family name, it would be 'Daisuke.'" Voice and eyes lowering, she
added, "Indeed, as far as I have anything valuable in this life..."
_____As a Metro Cop, Murphy knew people. And he knew when not to pry. He
therefore wrote "Daisuke, Gally" next to "Name" and rushed through the next
few questions.
_____Next to "Profession," Murhp wrote "Bounty Hunter," as with what Gally told
him back at the crime scene. Chief Thunderhorse would probably want to ask
about that...
_____Murpy chose not to ask the cyborg-girl about her date of birth or city of
origin. He instead just wrote question marks on those lines.
_____He decided to move onto the more important questions, to begin writing the
core of core of the report. "I know you answered this before, but this is for
the record. How did you know that I needed assistance?"
_____The petite cyborg's large dark eyes stared into Murphy's blue ones. "The
one you call 'Max Headroom' informed me. He said to come to your aid at once,
as you were in serious danger."
_____Murphy quickly wrote out Gally's answer in shorthand. "And, you have no
prior knowledge of the perpretrator, the one with the altered blood? You
seemed pretty effective in eliminating him..."
_____"I have never before encountered such an opponent," answered Gally. She
saw Murphy write out two more sentences. "Though I have encountered multiple
types of humanity--altered synthetically and genetically--that was the first
opponent that bled dark blood."
_____His right hand writing with practiced speed and precision, Murphy wrote
that down as well. "One more question. Do you know anything about the 'Kindly
Old Man' sightings? He seems to have been present at some of the more violent
incidents in the past few days..." Gally gave a shake of her head: No.
_____At that point, Murphy read once over the two brief paragraphs written,
closed the notebook. Police Chief Thunderhorse or one of the lieutenants would
read his report-log later, along with the other officers' report-logs.
_____He then put the notebook away in the same drawer. "And that does it for
the formal questioning... A lot faster than the policing procedures of the
old days, before the War. Now, I know it's not much in terms of rewarding you
for saving my life, but I will let you ask me any questions you want...so long
as I can stay by this desk." And then the background chatter of this room
went silent; the other officers at the other desks stopped what they were
doing.
_____Over at the north end of this large room, someone came in--someone in
plain professional clothing: beige slacks, starched white shirt, and a silk
tie. His skin was as swarthy as his polished brown shoes. A rugged, square-
jawed sort of strong man, with crew-cut dark hair. He looked rich--and was
rich. His outfit was complete with a badge pinned on the left side of his
chest.
_____"Everyone continue doing their business; I have no big announcements,"
said the swarthy, strong-looking man. "Just business with Murphy and his
savior." He then stood there as the officers indeed went back to doing what
they were doing.
_____Back over here at this desk, Murphy quickly explained. "Gally, that's
Police Chief Thunderhorse. But he's almost never here after sunset... He's
in charge of all policing in this city."
_____And then Chief Thunderhorse came over here. Murphy stood up and away from
his seat at this desk, offering the seat to the Chief. "Good evening, chief. I
was just finishing an interview with the witness, about some trouble in the
Fringes. What can I do for you, sir?"
_____Chief Thunderhorse gave a nod of thanks to Murphy, then sat at this desk.
He opened the top drawer where Murphy's report-log was stored, opened it to
the latest entry--read it. Returned it to the drawer and closed it. Said,
"Detective Walthers gave me a quick preliminary report on the latest incident...
Very, very interesting." He looked at Gally. "So, you are the cyborg?"
_____Gally looked down for a moment. When she looked up again, her eyes held
just a bit of anger. "I tire of being repeatedly asked questions.... Do listen
to me. Too many questions have been asked, and I have questions of my own.
Is this the thanks given for assistance I have provided to YOUR subordinates?"
She pulled in a breath. "I tracked down a bounty and came to where a newly
declared fugitive was performing illegal experiments. Something happened, and
I awakened on a sidewalk in this city. This city, different from my own home
and...just foreign enough to intimidate."
_____At Gally's outburst, the other Metro Cops at other desks paused. Some
telephones rang. Who dared to speak to Chief Thunderhorse that way? Was
someone becoming too violent in here?
_____In the uncomfortable silence, Chief Thunderhorse laughed. It was a laugh
that seeme to come of decades--if not centuries--of kind understanding.
"Indeed, you have been asked many questions. Yet, I believe that you have many
questions of your own. I cannot answer them all, but you may be able to find
your own answers...if you know how to look.
_____"As for compensation for your service," he continued, "let me give you a
start on that. You are a bounty hunter--the only one in this city. Therefore,
let me give you a financial reward... As Walthers could not find you on the
city database, I believe that you do not have a credit rod. And because your
form-fitting outfit lacks large pockets, I doubt that you carry the paper cash
that is popular in the Fringes--the impoverished outskirts of this city."
_____Indeed, Gally had none of that sort of money. As far as she knew, this
city--whatever it was named--was quite far away from Scrap Iron City. Far from
where she stored her stash of credit-chips. Then again, those of this city
used different credits. In short, she was penniless here.
_____Chief Thunderhorse reached into his left pocket and placed a short silvery
cylinder down on the desk. It was two-and-a-half inches long and had a black
ridged line near one end. It resembled a closed stick of lipstick
_____"This is a basic cred-rod, one with a specific serial number," explained
Chief Thunderhorse. "This electromechanically stores all of your monetary data.
It is both a wallet and a bank account. Normally, we give basic credit-rods
like this to cooperative deralicts who provide helpful information: each
credit-rod starting with twenty credits. But as you were so very helpful, I
gave you five hundred. And if you prove tobe more helpful, more monetary
rewards will be forthcoming."
_____"Sir, you're offering her a job?" asked Murphy. "I don't mean to question
you, but we have almost no background information on her. What if she isn't
strong enough to work at all with us?" Leaning closer to the chief, he said in
a lower voice, "We don't even know what corporation succeded in making her a
viable cyborg. The Zik Zak Corporation said something about experimenting with
synthetic body replacement years ago, but that's all prototype-talk..."
_____Chief Thunderhorse looked at Gally. Said aloud, "But I already know enough
about Gally. She is strong. I can sense it. And she is certainly strong
enough have been of assistance. Aren't you strong and capable, bounty hunter?"
_____Gally looked at the small metal cylinder on the desk--Chief Thunderhorse's
offer. By accepting the small credit-rod, she would be bound to cooperating
with the Metro Cops. It meant that her pursuits would be somewhat limited; she
would have to follow whatever regulations they imposed on her.
_____But it was also a way of investigating this city. And through such
investigation, she would find Dr. Nova. She looked to Murphy, then Chief
Thunderhorse. The chief nodded to her, as if he knew her thoughts.
_____"I accept," she said to Chief Thunderhorse and Officer Murphy. Extending
her left hand to the silvery cylinder atop the desk, closing her solid fingers
over the cylinder, Gally accepted the offer. She put it in a slit pocket at
her left hip. She WOULD succeed in this challenge: finding Dr. Nova, then
eliminating him.
_____This, even if she never found her way back to Scrap Iron City to collect
the bounty. It was never about the money; it never is about the money. Gally
would find him, somewhere in this city.
...
_____Meanwhile, in the "Fringes" of this city, a few blocks from the vacant
lot, someone unknown walked along a sidewalk. HE was not Dr. Nova, but HE was
still a stranger to this city. Dressed in pressed slacks and white shirt with
suspenders, he ambled past people sitting on front stoops... People stared and
muttered, pointed in fear. It was HIM!
_____HIM, the Kindly Old Man. Walking along, hands in his pocket. Though
muggings, murders, and worse happened in these slums, no one dared approach
the Kindly Old Man. Ever since he appeared three days ago, no one could even
get close to him. Because he was very, very creepy.
_____Right now, he had a smile on his face. Not a normal smile at all, in
fact. The smile literally went from ear to ear--an abnormally wide smile.
HE wasn't human, and that was all that anyone knew about HIM. A wind blew along
this street, then he vanished. A chuckle in the breeze....
Chapter 1: Dark Discovery
_____"Ha ha hah..." The metaphysicist laughed to himself as he looked over the
notes in his notebook, which was set on the somewhat cracked formica table.
The formica table was in the middle of this room--a bare and poorly lit place.
_____This was a temporary lab, only illuminated by the single flourescent
light on the damaged ceiling. This scientist had to clear junk, trash and
human bones from here to make it passably clean enough for today's work.
He would have had his two bodyguards do the labor for him; some of the
metal junk in here was too heavy to remove. But, in the end, the labor was
worth it. This was an excellent place for hidden activities.
_____And...! There was good reason for him doing today's scientific operations
in secret: What he was doing in this room could be so destabilizing and dangerous
that there would surely be laws instantly invented-just to ban what he was doing
now. Laws, made by the holy mega-computer in the floating City of Zalem. Laws,
which were enforced by metal-bodied professional killers down in Scrap Iron
City. The professional killers seemed to like killing, really....
_____And then, for once in his life, this professionally dressed madman felt
something that truly overpowered his hunger for sweet, tasty flan. These were
odd, troubling stirrings that he felt ever since he accidentally came across
something new in his metaphysical experiments.
_____But, the madman did not LOOK like someone dangerous; he did not look like
a man capable of destruction. He was but a man of very modest physical build--
physically frail. And his hair was graying, swept back owlishly at the sides,
and his face was well-lined. A look of age and experience. Not strong of body,
but quite strong of mind.
_____Strength of mind was key because the madman, Dr. Desty Nova, was a
scientist. An expatriat of Zalem, he was a topmost scientist of nanotechnology
and metaphysics. THIS was why he was dangerous; the man experimented with the
fabric of reality itself. The only reason why a price wasn't placed on his
head was because few people could understand the depths of his work. Any
minute, any second, someone would come for him. Or, more exactly, come for
his head.
_____Dr. Nova put those thoughts out of his head--so to speak. After today's
tasks, he would be long-gone from this room... On the run. Off to run to some
other God-forsaken hideway. Then again, most all of Scrap Iron City was God-
forsaken: a darkened city of jumbled industrial buildings in which the
impoverished masses of people--humans and cyborgs--worked their slow and
broken lives away. Life here really stomped people down to nothing; life was
a misery either cut short by violence or prolonged by cyborg technology.
_____Poverty, pollution, pain... All of that in this ultra-industrialized
mega-city: A city that looked like a bastardized cross between an oversized
shantytown and an industrial complex--a city that was thousands and thousands
of miles square.
_____This city was a darkened and ruined land. This was a city which was
toxic to body and spirit. THIS was where Dr. Nova lived.
...
_____Ah well... Doctor Nova did not care for that In fact, in the midst of
his latest experiment, he did not even care for flan! That, though an
ever-so-slight sense of dizziness made him almost hesitate his current work.
_____His work, which was being done in this temporary lab, had to continue!
"Ha hah hah..." he went, a somewhat hollow laugh. The laugh was more to
alleviate his "something-is-wrong" feeling...
_____Going over a few more lines of notes done up scientific notation and
technical phrasing, he took a small object out of his left pocket and set it
on the formica tabletop. Despite the low florescent lighting in this room,
the small object was clearly visible.
_____It was a little box. One that seemed to be made of blue-painted wood.
That is, for now, it was a little box; it could turn into anything else at any
time.
_____He now picked it up in both hands. And he was suddenly surprised with
what the box did next. Almost dropped the thing! Amazing! Astounding!
Impossible!
_____He just saw the box CHANGE itself. Before, it was just a plain hollow
cube. Now there was a little handle atop the little box. A handle just big
enough that one could pull on it by pinching with two fingers....
_____"Ha hah hah...! Whoops!" He clamped a hand over his own mouth to
stifle his own laughter. Well now, he didn't want anyone to hear him! Being
killed now would be a major inconvenience to his work.
_____And then there was the sound of the door SLAMMING open. "WHAT!" shouted
the lab-coated metaphysicist, spinning himself around to look at who the
intruder was!
_____But...there was no one there! No one at all! He DID hear the door slam
open. Or, did he? The door was still closed. But he was SURE he heard it
SLAM open, as if someone kicked his or her way in.
_____He crossed the cracked floor and went over to the door. He touched the
rusty surface with his left hand. The door was definitely still closed...
He was hearing things! Yes, yes, that's it!
_____"The door did NOT open..." muttered Dr. Nova. "I did not not REALLY
hear it open."
_____He turned and went back to the table--notebook and mystery box on it.
Back to the task at hand...!
....
_____Back at the table, he picked up the box. He set his left thumb and
forefinger on the little handle, then flinched when noises began exploding
in this room! Like sounds of Hellish jackhammers slamming against the walls
and the doors!
_____BANG, BANG, BANG...! SLAM-SLAM-SLAM...! BANGING and SLAMMING sounds
were coming from behind the walls. Something was BANGING at the door.
_____So LOUD! These were sounds so loud that Dr. Nova had to put the box
down on the cracked formica table as so he could cover his ears. It sounded
as if someone or something wanted to get into this room from behind the
walls--or from inside the walls.
_____"HA-HAH!" went Dr. Nova. "I AM NOT HEARING THAT AT ALL!" he shouted, his
voice drowned out by the lound banging sounds! "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! THE
NOISE IS ALL IN MY HEAD!"
____As if in response to Dr. Nova's denial, the noises picked up! In fact,
this scientist saw the tabletop shake from the loudness. BANG-BANG-BANG!
Such maddeningly loud noise! "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING AT ALL!"
_____And then it stopped.... No more loudness. There was no more sound of
imaginary Hellish fists banging on the walls. Was he becoming more insane than
he already was?
_____"Hah hah, it must have been hallucination. Ha hah hah..." chuckled the
lab-coated metaphysicist. If the sounds had been real, then the makers of the
sound would not have stopped when he shouted: his voice was not loud enough to
have been heard above the racket.
_____His eyes widened when he looked at the box again, which changed again!
"AMAZING!" he shouted, then winced--mentally chiding himself for being so loud.
He had forgotten to be quiet. Someone could overhear him, and that would NOT
be a halucination. But this latest development confirmed one of his earlier
suspicions.
_____Again, back to work. Since the noises, the box had undergone another
change: It had changed its size and color; now it was larger. Before, it
was small enough to fit in his left pocket. Now it was large enough to hold
a human head, and its paint became as red as blood.
_____Dr. Nova reached for a pen and stooped over to write these latest changes
down in the notebook: "Change in physical properties--growth in size, new
red color." SLAM!
_____"Hmmph! Hallucinations, nothing more..." he went, still writing. Maybe,
the box was able to affect his sanity. After all, he knew almost nothing about
its properties. Later, he should analyze the box's unexplained ability to
amplify paranoia--to the point of inducing auditory hallucinations.
_____He only paused in his note-taking when he heard footsteps. Footsteps,
coming towards him from behind. "Hmm hmm hmm... Yet more halucinations," he
said aloud. "Am I supposed to care? Maybe, or maybe not?"
_____"A halucination?" went a voice--the voice of a young and serious girl.
"Or, are we yet all nothing but halucinations in this prolonged dream called
life?" The voice darkened. "However, if you are my target, then your dream
will soon awaken due to the REALITY of my blade!"
_____Dr. Nova chose to not stand and turn around just yet. Because, if he did,
the female bounty hunter behind him would get a clear look at his face and
height. Then she would kill him straight off, probably with great pleasure:
murderously sadistic pleasure. Bounty hunters, all of them sadists!
_____And suddenly, somehow, he KNEW the bounty hunter's name. Though he never
met her before, never knew the sound of her voice before, he knew her. Or,
maybe he just BELIEVED he was familiar with the stranger behind him--another
psychosomatic side-effect of exposure to the box?
_____Yes, THE box! Its properties were mysterious. Just perhaps, it had given
him some psychic ability? Considering how THE box was made, and what he knew of
it, such was very possible. That, and THE box was capable of much more.
_____Still without turning around, he some how KNEW how this intruder looked--
a bounty hunter. The female did not look like a bounty hunter. The dark-eyed
and pretty-faced girl was just under five feet tall, petite--her lithe body
clad in a tight sleeveless bodysuit the color of midnight. Dark, to match her
shimmering black-silken hair and large night-colored eyes. But the term "girl"
did not fully fit her, because the "girl" wasn't fully human.
_____She was a cyborg. Her shoulder-length dark hair was silken polymer, and
her pretty faace was synthetic flesh... Her lithe body was, in truth, sculpted
metal machinery. She was a metal-bodied doll of a peron, one with murderous
capabilities.
_____A simple blade in hand, this petite and pretty killer was now behind
Dr. Nova. Maybe tonight would be inconvenient...because he could die here.
_____"May I ask you some things?" asked Dr. Nova, pen still paused on the
notebook page. "That is, if would let me. I want to talk..." He smacked
his lips. "And why do I sudddenly have a stronger hunger for flan? Mmm...flan...
Did you, by any chance, bring any?"
_____"BE SILENT! DO NOT ATTEMPT VERBAL TRICKERY WITH ME!" shouted the petite
professional killer. "I am but milliseconds from severing your gray-haired
head from your body! How is THAT for flan?"
_____"Hmm... I should have flan in this box..." said Dr. Nova, smiling. "Or,
I could have a very illegal gun in there. Which do you think...GALLY?"
_____"I choose this way," she said, taking steps towards the scientist. "I
choose to complete tonight's business now." And she smiled...
_____Dr. Nova gagged when Gally's blade pierced his back. Well, THIS was
certainly inconvenient! How was he to continue his work? He tried to say
something, but instead vomited a gush of blood.
_____Not that he noticed, but the blade was taken out of his back. The petite
cyborg-girl stood back, blood dripping on the blade. She watched and waited
for the man to die, watched him stagger about drunkenly.
_____Then he reached for the box! As he began falling over, he reached out
and KNOCKED it off of the formica table. It hit the cracked and gritty floor,
then opened. And everything went wrong!
_____Darkness... There was darkness in that box. The cyborg-girl tried to
turn and run, but the darkness closed over her. And she felt herself tumbling.
The floor was gone! Falling, she looked up... No ceiling! There was nothing
here but the sound of wind as she fell and fell into darkness.
...
_____It was a troubling, sickening sort of darkness. There was a sense of
being twisted and spun around, swirling fear and pain. Gally screamed--but
her scream was snatched away by the air. She was falling so fast now that
the air snatched her voice away. She screamed again.
_____It was another futile scream. Another scream that went nowhere. She
thought that no one heard her scream. But then, someone screamed back: the
scientist she just knifed!
_____The bastard, he was STILL ALIVE! But she thought that she KILLED him.
The blade peirced his body, cutting the heart and left lung. How the HELL did
Dr. Nova still have strength enough to SCREAM? Just as Gally thought about
how she would try killing Dr. Nova again, she HIT something--and she went
unconscious.
...
_____The sidewalk was hard under Gally's body. But her metal body was harder.
She opened her bleary eyes, feeling too dizzy to stand. Dr. Nova probably had
a drugged gas in that box--a gas that somehow made it through her artificial
respitory system and into her brain. He DID play at trickery!
_____Gally's employer had put a reward of 666,000 credits for Nova's head. He
was listed as being "very, very dangerous," and she wanted to take his head.
But, it was not about the money. It was never about the money. It was about
the challenge, which piqued her curiousity; she never before saw a criminal
listing that read as "very, very dangerous." She simply HAD to take the
bounty.
_____And she WOULD find him. With that resolve, her dizzy headache went away,
and she was able to see clearly and get up. Standing on her boot-clad feet, the
armor-bodied female was able look around at the night-time urban surroundings.
_____Looking around, it was a scene lit by streetlamps and lights shining from
windows... This street was one in a decaying neighborhood--a neighborhood of
run-down buildings alongside dirt-lots populated by trailers. Some scraps
of trash was blown by the night breeze, blown along the street. The streetlamps
only made for light enough for the streets, so the people outside made for
their own illumination.
_____There were plenty of people out here--sitting outside the buildings.
Nearby, the dirt-lot with trailers bustled with life: talk and campfires,
accompanied by sounds of radios and televisions. Some other groups of people
had barrels of fire--full of burning wood and newspaper. A few groups even
had televisions propped up on old crates, showing various silly shows. The
campfires made things somewhat smoky here, but comfortable and not too loud.
The setting was made a bit more festive as people over there had strung some
jury-rigged in places with taped-together electrical cords.
_____Gally looked at that nearby vacant lot. Since the people there seemed
more talkative, even slightly festive, Gally walked over. With practiced
habit, she stepped around and avoided tripping over the scattered chunks of
junk here, which was here on the packed-dirt ground.
...
_____Going into the vacant lot, she approached a group of three people who sat
around one of the barrels of fire here, sitting on crates of wood. One of them
was a thin-looking and dapperly dressed old man--buttoned white shirt with
slacks, and suspenders. He stared into the fire, reflected flames in his eyes.
The two others here were the opposite of the old man: two young, tough-looking
teenage boys in leather jacket and jeans. Together, all three stared into the
fire.
_____"Please pardon my interruption into your meditations..." began Gally, "but,
have any of you seen a scientist pass through? He has swept-back gray hair, was
wearing a multi-pocketed lab coat. His breath smells of flan."
_____The Kindly Old Man slowly turned his head to face Gally, then put out
wheezing breaths. "Hah-h-h... Hah-h-h... Hah-h-h..." he went, huffing and
puffing. Gally feared the Kindly Old Man would keel over from respiratory
illness, but he eventually managed to speak. "You want to find HIM? But...who
will find YOU? Where do you FIND YOURSELF? CAN you find YOURSELF in THIS OTHER
CITY?"
_____"Can I be found?" asked Gally, speaking metaphorically. "I find myself
through confronting challenges and defeating them. I live through fighting."
She shook her head. "Now, for the task at hand. I seek a labcoat-wearing
fugitive--one name Dr. Nova. A fully human man of moderate age and troubled
appearance. Did he pass by here?"
_____"Hah-h-h..." wheezed the Kindly Old Man. "Dr. Nova passed through, indeed!
He passed through...THE breeze!" With that, there was a blast of wind that
made the campfire ripple. And the Kindly Old Man vanished!
_____There were still two other men seated at this fire, both of them as
surprised as Gally was--seeing that old man vanishing the way he did. Like...
Like magic!
_____"Oh SHIT! You were right, Zackus! It WAS him!" said the one on the
right. "He vanished like fuckin' MAGIC! Guess I owe you twenty creds next
trip to our bank. And I don't mean the body bank!"
_____The bank? Gally did not know what that was. Ignoring that odd reference,
she addressed the two teens. "Have either of you two seen the fugitive I
previously described? A tall, well-dressed man in a labcoat--wearing a tie
and with a hairstyle swept back at the sides?"
_____The one on the left shrugged. "I dunno, doll... Not too many of those
types come around here. Try going downtown... All sorts of scientist-looking
people in some of the buildings there." He leaned forward on the crate he
was sitting on. "Anyway, aren't you a little bit too young to go hunting
criminals? Take my advice, little girl. Why don't you leave that to the
Metro Cops?"
_____The one on the right added, "Stuff that! Don't help those kevlar-armored
bastards! Out here in the Fringes, we're all people. If that 'Dr. Nova'
wants to hide out here, I'd let him. Especially if he's hiding from creepy
little girls done up in sexy body armor!"
_____She ignored that comment about her metal physique. But, what odd terms...
Metro Cops? The Fringes? These were terms Gally never heard before. And
these two street-teens had odd accents she could not identify.
_____Then she began noticing other odd things. Little things. Like, how the
air smelled just a bit different--without the ever-so-slight ozone smell that
she was used to smelling. Looking around in this scrubby urban lot, she also
saw that all of those here seemed fully human; she was the only cyborg here.
Then she looked up at the sky...
_____There was a full moon up, but Zalem was not. There was no massive,
floating circular City of Zalem in the sky at all. In fact, the sky had no
floating city at all.
_____"This is not Scrap Iron City," she said. The two street-teenagers
laughed... "This is NOT Scrap Iron City!" she said again, more troubled. "But,
how did this come to pass?" And the two street-teens sitting by the barrel of
fire just kept laughing and laughing... They thought the metal-bodied little
girl was nuts.
_____"Hey doll. You're lost and sound just a little bit crazy. Did you take
a hit on the head?" said the street-teen on the right. "Why don't you go back
into the city proper and find yourself a cop? Yeah, your mommy is probably
worrying herself sick."
_____Someone else broke into the conversation, a male voice. "Her m-m-mommy?
Someone can't get good help these days-days-days?" continued the voice,
studdering some words. "Hey, we could all use a little HELP. I'd help-help-
help, if I c-c-could!"
_____Gally turned in the direction of the third voice, the glitching voice.
Looking around... She saw no one looking in her direction. But there was a
television pointed in her direction.
_____The voice had come from a television atop an upside-down metal barrel, a
television showing a close-up of a square-jawed blonde. Walking closer, Gally
saw that the man on the screen was not real; he had the plain-shaded look of
an early computer-generated image. So the 'stuttering' Gally heard was actually
faulty audio dubbing.
_____"A mere television show," she said aloud. "And, a poorly programmed one at
that. A television broadcast made to look as if it speaks to people."
_____"Just a tele-tele-TELEVISION show?" asked the man in the televison.
"Hey! Looks like your putting on a better sh-sh-show than I am! What's
the name of YOUR sitcom, huh-huh-huh? 'Little Dark Riding Girl'? Geez, I try
to help, and I get in-in-insults! No good deed goes unpunished!"
_____Gally approached the television, glanced at another television nearby.
None of them had the man on them. "Then, this is a two-way communication
device?" she asked. "How did you come to know where I was, and how did you
know I required assistance? Also, who are the 'Metro Cops'?"
_____The computer-generated man in the television sighed. "So-so-so many
quest-quest-questions from a stranger! Now, I'll give you answers. One, I just
happened to be in th-th-the neighborhood when I heard that you needed help from
the police. Two, the Metro Cops are the POLICE. Th-th-those are your answers,
in that order."
_____This was all becoming more odd and troubling by the moment. Not only did
Dr. Nova evade Gally, but he must have also had her transported to a completely
different city. A city with "police" instead of bounty hunters. A city that
seemed immensely far from Zalem. This was all so strange.
_____"Where do I find this 'police?'" asked Gally. "If they are who I believe
them to be, and if I correctly recall what was said to me, then they should
be able to assist me in my search of my bounty."
_____"You want to find a few Metro Cops, h-h-HMM?" went the man in the
television. He disappeared for a second, and Gally saw a few seconds of a
violent television show-- a man shooting a big gun at big trucks, blowing them
up.
_____Then the man in the television returned. "My dear," he began, "you are in
LUCK today, even if one of the Metro Cops isn't-isn't-isn't! Now, are you sure
you want to find the police?"
_____"Yes, I do wish to find this 'police,' as I said!" she said. "Where will
I find them?"
_____"Okey-dokey!" he answered. "Just go back to the street and go left. At
the intersection, you w-w-WILL find a Metro Cop. Gee-gee-GEEZ... I just hope
there's enough of him left by the time you get there!"
_____Gally smiled. A challenge! She dashed away from the man in the television
and to the street.
...
_____Turning left on the sidewalk, she ran... Indeed, a block away, in the
light of a streetlamp, two people fought. One was a man in bulky pad-like
kevlar and black face-covering helmet. The other was thin and much taller.
The man in bulky kevlar continued to punch and kick at the tall man, but the
tall man simply absorbed the blows--before punching the kevlar-wearing man
in the chest.
_____The one in the bulky kevlar and full helmet was losing... Blows to his
chest and head made him stagger. He must be the Metro Cop. Gally approached
in a hurry, seeing the Metro Cop stagger from a hit on the head by the tall
bald man.
_____Closer, she saw the condition of the other fighter. The Metro Cop in
kevlar was protected from impact wounds. But the tall bald one without
armor should have been dead: over a dozen bleeding bullet holes in his chest,
and dark blood dribbling from his mouth.
_____Also nearby were two other Metro Cops, in the same uniform as the one
fighting the tall bald man. Those two were on their backs, their arms and
legs splayed. Guns in hands, they must have also tried to subdue the tall
bald man.
_____Clearly, gunshots did not kill the tall bald man. Then, there was no
choice but for Gally to engage the enemy and defeat him--before that remaining
Metro Cop was beaten to death.
...
_____She moved like a dark wind from nearby, the slight sound of her feet
lightly and rapidly pattering. A leap in the air, and...
_____THUNK! As the cyborg-girl leapt past the tall bald-headed man, her fist
struck his jaw. The enemy staggered, his pulverized jaw suddenly as flabby as
flan. But still, he stood. Still stood...
_____Gally landed, skidded to a stop on the dark street. She turned and looked.
The tall bald-headed man still stood, but her titanium-fisted blow should have
nearly decapitated him. How was it that he still stood? How...?
_____The officer who was being attacked now spoke. "Nice try, girl. Get out
of here before this freak gets you, too." The tall bald man stepped closer to
the injured policeman. "Go away!" He said that to Gally, not to the threat
here.
_____Gally would not run from this interesting challenge. She would defeat
this new and strange type of opponent. Perhaps, this was Nova's work?
_____"I shall not flee!" she shouted, grinning. And she herself began to
approach the tall bald man, bullet holes in his chest and obliterated jaw.
She saw the tall bald man smiled a lopsided, distorted smile--oddly dark blood
coming from his lips.
_____Something was not quite right about the color of the tall bald man's
blood. SWISH...! Gally had to duck just as she had that thought; the tall
bald man had taken a swift swipe at her head.
_____But she was not fast enough to evade the following kick. She saw the
left foot coming at her head. Though she raised her forearms to block the
blow, there was still enough force from the attack to give her a knock on the
left cheek.
_____She had to think about this opponent; he was not to be underestimated. Not
only did his endurance exceed that of an ordinary human being, but his attacks
were quite swift.
_____A tall, swift opponent. Such an opponent could easily be defeated with
the right tactics. Namely, because the tall bald man relied on agility and
speed, a loss of that agility would put him at a severe disadvantage.
_____So Gally acted appropriately. She lashed out with her left leg, and
there was a meaty crack of a leg-bone being broken. The tall bald man began to
fall like a tall tree cut by an axe, threatening to fall down on the petite
cyborg.
_____Instead of evading, Gally did a quick step forward. Her right fist shot
straight up. And the moment seemed to freeze.
_____A crunch of sternum-bone breaking, and her fist was inside the chest of the
tall man--caught in mid-fall. His mouth and eyes were open in surprise. Gally
was below: kneeling, grinning.
_____She stepped quickly to the side, quickly pulling her fist from the man's
chest--making for a wet slurping sound. Her victim fell to the cracked street,
lit by the nearby streetlamp. That unusually dark blood formed a puddle around
the dead man's chest. This battle was done.
...
_____"Good job, kid," said the officer in bulky black kevlar. He moved--
slightly staggered--over to where the corpse lie in the light. "Damn, and to
think that bullets didn't down him!"
_____Gally waved her right hand about a bit to get some of the blood off of
the metal. Then she stared at it... "This is not ordinary blood," she said.
"It is more viscuous upon immediate exposure to air. Just perhaps, I presume
this enemy to be a mutant."
_____"Mutants...? We haven't had those yet, but the corporations always have
new things brewing in their research labs..." said the officer. He looked away
from the corpse. "Could you keep an eye on that freak while I check my
partners?" And he walked over to the two officers who were unconscious all this
time.
_____Gally did. She went closer to the still body of the tall bald man--whose
corpse bled absolutely dark blood. And she was sure it was not a trick of the
streetlighting; that blood was as dark as old-fashioned petroleum-oil--but
more slick and thick.
_____It had to be a mutant of sorts, but even mutated human beings went down
after being shot. Gally wanted to ask the officer about what he knew of this,
but he was chattering something into his small walkie-talkie and looking over
the injuries of his unconscious comrades-in-arms.
_____And then, bystanders came. They stood on the darker sidewalks and at the
intersection, looking at the scene. Some of them mumbled to each other about
how someone dared to attack Metro Cops. Others commented on the little girl's
form-fitting armor--and wondered what she was doing here. They wondered if the
Metro Cops were now promoting kids into their ranks.
...
_____But the bystanders could not speculate for too long. In minutes, plenty
of backup and other officers came to this scene--essentially, a cleanup crew.
As Gally and the first officer stood by, the officer with his helmet off, the
tall corpse was dumped in a gray truck. The injured officers were put on
stretchers and lifted into ambulances. Plenty other kevlar-clad Metro Cops
walked around the scene, using digital cameras to photograph the dark blood
pattern and small test-tubes to collect samples.
_____A male detective approached, one in black trenchcoat worn over dapper
clothes. "Hello, Murphy," he said. "Rough night... Impossibly rough, it
looks like. Damn, the perpetrator injured multiple cops!"
_____Gally looked up at the Metro Cop whom she helped save. "You are Murphy?"
she asked. "It is an interesting name. In fact, we have failed to exchange
names..."
_____The Metro Cop here smiled, chuckled. "Hah hah... You're right." He
held out his heavily gloved right hand to the small lithe cyborg. "I'm John
Murphy--Metro Cop. And you are...?"
_____Somewhat familiar with this hand-shaking custom, Gally put her right hand
in Murphy's. "I am Gally, a bounty hunter of Scrap Iron City. Yet, I take
into my profession more for challenge than crass gains." Then Murphy released
Gally's hand.
_____Detective Walthers spoke up. "Bounty hunter, huh? Didn't know there
were any bounty hunters in this town. Did you, Murphy?"
_____"Well, I'm just glad there was at least this one close by," responded the
kevlar-clad Metro Cop. "If it weren't for her, I'd be on the ground with
Jimbo and Samuk there... And we'd all probably be dead."
_____Detective Walthers looked more carefully at Gally. "That body armor of
yours looks pretty impressive, kid. Though I don't know why you have to wear
that gymnastic bodysuit over it. Is the armor experimental or something?"
_____"This armor IS my body, detective," said Gally, her expression saddening.
"All of my pysique consists of synthetics, electronics and machinery. My face
and hair are also synthetic. Yet my brain is real. At least, I continue to
believe so. Do you have too many questions to ask of me? Do you question my
HUMANITY?"
_____"Whoa... Whoa..." went Detective Walthers, raising his hands. "You're a
CYBORG? I didn't know your kind really existed! Corporate guys come up with
new medical technology all the time. I just didn't know that they could make
people into cyborgs yet. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.
Your body is your own business."
_____Murphy gently laid a hand on Gally's solid left shoulder. "Well, she saved
my life. She probably saved plenty other lives tonight, too, stopping that
freak the way she did."
_____Detective Walthers opened his black trenchcoat and put his hands in his
slacks pockets. "Yeah... You'll have to tell me about that. Murphy, you'll
have to write up a report to the Chief and all, and maybe Gally here will have
to add info to it. But could you, Gally, tell me a bit of something. Who the
Hell convinced you to attack that freak?"
_____"It was quite odd..." answered Gally. "A business-suited television man
told me to move and help. Or rather, the 'man' was a computer-generated, three-
dimensional image of a man."
_____"You mean Max Headroom told you to help?" asked Detective Walthers. "Let
me get this straight in my head. You just so happened to be in the
neighborhood, and Headroom was here, too? He was here, just as Murphy was being
attacked by that tall freak with the altered blood?"
_____"I cannot quite answer for the patterns of chance and events," said Gally.
"My own purpose in life is that of growth and improvement. That, done through
physical conflict. Yet, who is this Mr. Headroom?"
_____"Oh, you'll find out, Gally," chuckled Murphy as he looked around. The
other Metro Cops were dispersing; they were nearly done. "Stay in this city
long enough, and you'll find out plenty."
_____Gally looked up at Officer Murphy. "I was also told that I could gain
further information in meeting you. Currently, my target is a metaphysicist
named Dr. Nova. And he has proven himself to be as dangerous as listed. Have
you seen Dr. Nova?"
_____"I don't know who or what you're talking about, Miss Bounty Hunter," said
Detective Walthers. "Tell you what. Why don't you go down to the station
with Murphy? You can exchange plenty of information there. And, maybe we
can talk about helping you find this 'Nova' guy of yours."
...
_____Next stop was the police station to which Murphy was assigned--the 1st
Precinct. And Gally was more than a little encouraged to come along. She rode
with Murphy--in one of the plain black police cruisers with the white MC logo
on the side. The ride gave Gally a longer view of this city--this different
environment.
_____She was seated in the shotgun seat, the right passenger side of this
vehicle that Murphy drove. This car passed through many low-lit urban streets,
brick buildings along the impoverished streets. It was similar to, but not
exactly like, Scrap Iron City.
_____There were plenty of questions she wanted to ask. What was the name of
this city? How was it that those here thought that cyborg technology was
still experimental? And, did anyone have the slightest hint as to where Dr.
Nova was? But she best save those questions for arrival at the 1st Precinct.
...
_____In fact, the 1st Precinct was in the central downtown area--where the
apartments and office buildings were taller, more sleek, and neater. At
ground level, there were restaurants and shops--well-lit and well-kept. And
the people out at this hour were all well-dressed.
_____This police cruiser and several others pulled into the concrete slope
that led to the basement of the 1st Precinct--a surprisingly old-fashioned
looking, three-story building. It was one of the oldest, but also one of the
best-maintained buildings.
_____And it had to be the best-maintained building: the 1st Precinct was also
the primary headquarters for all Metro Cop administrative functions. From here,
all six police precincts were overseen. If anything required police attention,
the personnel at 1st Precint also knew about it.
....
_____In the basement parking lot, there were many black police cruisers parked.
With their own ride parked, Gally went with Murphy to the elevators at the far
end. Other officers walked by, chatting among themselves. Another Metro Cop
greeted Murphy when he stepped into the elevator. They talked about the latest
incident...
_____The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Up here was a large,
florescent-lit room with plenty of wide desks on the beige marble floor. There
must be about twenty desks here, and seven of them had helmetless Metro Cops
seated at them. Though some of them were women, it was hard to tell as kevlar
body armor gave everyone a uniform bulky look. Sounds of Metro Cops were on
telephones and taking notes.
_____"Okay, Gally," said Murphy. "This is pretty much where we Metro Cops
make our homes when we're on duty. Let's go over to my desk..." He was going
to put a hand on one of Gally's bare metal shoulders, but a glance from her
told him not to do so.
_____They went between desks, went over to a desk near the west end of this
room. A folded metal chair leaned against it. Murphy unfolded it, set it
in front of his desk. Gally sat, knees together and solid hands folded across
her lap.
_____Sitting behind the desk, Murphy looked around and took out a long notepad
from a drawer. "Sorry about the chatter; this place always sounds busy..."
He opened the notepad to a new page, wrote the day's date along the top line.
"First, let's get some formalities out of the way. I have to get some basic
questions. Your name is 'Gally.' Do you have a family name, or is that it?"
Seconds passed, and there was no answer. "Is something wrong?"
_____Gally blinked. She then spoke just loudly enough to be heard. "As far
as I have a family name, it would be 'Daisuke.'" Voice and eyes lowering, she
added, "Indeed, as far as I have anything valuable in this life..."
_____As a Metro Cop, Murphy knew people. And he knew when not to pry. He
therefore wrote "Daisuke, Gally" next to "Name" and rushed through the next
few questions.
_____Next to "Profession," Murhp wrote "Bounty Hunter," as with what Gally told
him back at the crime scene. Chief Thunderhorse would probably want to ask
about that...
_____Murpy chose not to ask the cyborg-girl about her date of birth or city of
origin. He instead just wrote question marks on those lines.
_____He decided to move onto the more important questions, to begin writing the
core of core of the report. "I know you answered this before, but this is for
the record. How did you know that I needed assistance?"
_____The petite cyborg's large dark eyes stared into Murphy's blue ones. "The
one you call 'Max Headroom' informed me. He said to come to your aid at once,
as you were in serious danger."
_____Murphy quickly wrote out Gally's answer in shorthand. "And, you have no
prior knowledge of the perpretrator, the one with the altered blood? You
seemed pretty effective in eliminating him..."
_____"I have never before encountered such an opponent," answered Gally. She
saw Murphy write out two more sentences. "Though I have encountered multiple
types of humanity--altered synthetically and genetically--that was the first
opponent that bled dark blood."
_____His right hand writing with practiced speed and precision, Murphy wrote
that down as well. "One more question. Do you know anything about the 'Kindly
Old Man' sightings? He seems to have been present at some of the more violent
incidents in the past few days..." Gally gave a shake of her head: No.
_____At that point, Murphy read once over the two brief paragraphs written,
closed the notebook. Police Chief Thunderhorse or one of the lieutenants would
read his report-log later, along with the other officers' report-logs.
_____He then put the notebook away in the same drawer. "And that does it for
the formal questioning... A lot faster than the policing procedures of the
old days, before the War. Now, I know it's not much in terms of rewarding you
for saving my life, but I will let you ask me any questions you want...so long
as I can stay by this desk." And then the background chatter of this room
went silent; the other officers at the other desks stopped what they were
doing.
_____Over at the north end of this large room, someone came in--someone in
plain professional clothing: beige slacks, starched white shirt, and a silk
tie. His skin was as swarthy as his polished brown shoes. A rugged, square-
jawed sort of strong man, with crew-cut dark hair. He looked rich--and was
rich. His outfit was complete with a badge pinned on the left side of his
chest.
_____"Everyone continue doing their business; I have no big announcements,"
said the swarthy, strong-looking man. "Just business with Murphy and his
savior." He then stood there as the officers indeed went back to doing what
they were doing.
_____Back over here at this desk, Murphy quickly explained. "Gally, that's
Police Chief Thunderhorse. But he's almost never here after sunset... He's
in charge of all policing in this city."
_____And then Chief Thunderhorse came over here. Murphy stood up and away from
his seat at this desk, offering the seat to the Chief. "Good evening, chief. I
was just finishing an interview with the witness, about some trouble in the
Fringes. What can I do for you, sir?"
_____Chief Thunderhorse gave a nod of thanks to Murphy, then sat at this desk.
He opened the top drawer where Murphy's report-log was stored, opened it to
the latest entry--read it. Returned it to the drawer and closed it. Said,
"Detective Walthers gave me a quick preliminary report on the latest incident...
Very, very interesting." He looked at Gally. "So, you are the cyborg?"
_____Gally looked down for a moment. When she looked up again, her eyes held
just a bit of anger. "I tire of being repeatedly asked questions.... Do listen
to me. Too many questions have been asked, and I have questions of my own.
Is this the thanks given for assistance I have provided to YOUR subordinates?"
She pulled in a breath. "I tracked down a bounty and came to where a newly
declared fugitive was performing illegal experiments. Something happened, and
I awakened on a sidewalk in this city. This city, different from my own home
and...just foreign enough to intimidate."
_____At Gally's outburst, the other Metro Cops at other desks paused. Some
telephones rang. Who dared to speak to Chief Thunderhorse that way? Was
someone becoming too violent in here?
_____In the uncomfortable silence, Chief Thunderhorse laughed. It was a laugh
that seeme to come of decades--if not centuries--of kind understanding.
"Indeed, you have been asked many questions. Yet, I believe that you have many
questions of your own. I cannot answer them all, but you may be able to find
your own answers...if you know how to look.
_____"As for compensation for your service," he continued, "let me give you a
start on that. You are a bounty hunter--the only one in this city. Therefore,
let me give you a financial reward... As Walthers could not find you on the
city database, I believe that you do not have a credit rod. And because your
form-fitting outfit lacks large pockets, I doubt that you carry the paper cash
that is popular in the Fringes--the impoverished outskirts of this city."
_____Indeed, Gally had none of that sort of money. As far as she knew, this
city--whatever it was named--was quite far away from Scrap Iron City. Far from
where she stored her stash of credit-chips. Then again, those of this city
used different credits. In short, she was penniless here.
_____Chief Thunderhorse reached into his left pocket and placed a short silvery
cylinder down on the desk. It was two-and-a-half inches long and had a black
ridged line near one end. It resembled a closed stick of lipstick
_____"This is a basic cred-rod, one with a specific serial number," explained
Chief Thunderhorse. "This electromechanically stores all of your monetary data.
It is both a wallet and a bank account. Normally, we give basic credit-rods
like this to cooperative deralicts who provide helpful information: each
credit-rod starting with twenty credits. But as you were so very helpful, I
gave you five hundred. And if you prove tobe more helpful, more monetary
rewards will be forthcoming."
_____"Sir, you're offering her a job?" asked Murphy. "I don't mean to question
you, but we have almost no background information on her. What if she isn't
strong enough to work at all with us?" Leaning closer to the chief, he said in
a lower voice, "We don't even know what corporation succeded in making her a
viable cyborg. The Zik Zak Corporation said something about experimenting with
synthetic body replacement years ago, but that's all prototype-talk..."
_____Chief Thunderhorse looked at Gally. Said aloud, "But I already know enough
about Gally. She is strong. I can sense it. And she is certainly strong
enough have been of assistance. Aren't you strong and capable, bounty hunter?"
_____Gally looked at the small metal cylinder on the desk--Chief Thunderhorse's
offer. By accepting the small credit-rod, she would be bound to cooperating
with the Metro Cops. It meant that her pursuits would be somewhat limited; she
would have to follow whatever regulations they imposed on her.
_____But it was also a way of investigating this city. And through such
investigation, she would find Dr. Nova. She looked to Murphy, then Chief
Thunderhorse. The chief nodded to her, as if he knew her thoughts.
_____"I accept," she said to Chief Thunderhorse and Officer Murphy. Extending
her left hand to the silvery cylinder atop the desk, closing her solid fingers
over the cylinder, Gally accepted the offer. She put it in a slit pocket at
her left hip. She WOULD succeed in this challenge: finding Dr. Nova, then
eliminating him.
_____This, even if she never found her way back to Scrap Iron City to collect
the bounty. It was never about the money; it never is about the money. Gally
would find him, somewhere in this city.
...
_____Meanwhile, in the "Fringes" of this city, a few blocks from the vacant
lot, someone unknown walked along a sidewalk. HE was not Dr. Nova, but HE was
still a stranger to this city. Dressed in pressed slacks and white shirt with
suspenders, he ambled past people sitting on front stoops... People stared and
muttered, pointed in fear. It was HIM!
_____HIM, the Kindly Old Man. Walking along, hands in his pocket. Though
muggings, murders, and worse happened in these slums, no one dared approach
the Kindly Old Man. Ever since he appeared three days ago, no one could even
get close to him. Because he was very, very creepy.
_____Right now, he had a smile on his face. Not a normal smile at all, in
fact. The smile literally went from ear to ear--an abnormally wide smile.
HE wasn't human, and that was all that anyone knew about HIM. A wind blew along
this street, then he vanished. A chuckle in the breeze....