Public Relations / Internal Affairs
Sylia Stingray, CEO and Chairwoman of the Board of Genom Corporation sat at the head of the boardroom meeting table with a pained expression on her face. Diagoro Itto, the head of the Marketing Department was one of the few directors she wasn't able to get rid of when she took power; the large spectacle wearing thin man had been a favourite of the late Chairmain Quincy and still held considerable power in the corporation. It was a well known secret that he didn't like her and was the leader of a clique of other old timers who wanted to get rid of her and return to the already nostalgic good old days of world power politics and a monopoly market. Too bad reality was well beyond his pipe dream, but it was a dream that he persisted with nonetheless. Like the speech he was giving now.
"Two thirds of the Scientists and Engineers that left Genom after the terrorist strike did not put in their resignation papers. I say we should sue the companies that stole them, and the employees for Breach Of Contract and selling company secrets. Boomer technology is ours and we can't let upstart Americans and Europeans steal our markets, or those wet nosed ASEANs rip off our quality products with the junk they make." Itto pounded the table with his boney hand as he named each adversary.
"Itto," Sylia started, she didn't want to let any of her anger or frustration show through in her words, despite it being openly broadcast on her face, "We have enough legal problems as it is and not enough money to fight them all. Money is our main concern and to get it we must sell our product and that is your job. Sales have plummeted and contracts cancelled. Now," Sylia held up a hand, "before you blame the 'terrorist strike', I realize that many cancellations are out of our control and you and your Department are doing the best you can. You have to keep doing that and with all your attention. I - we, are counting on you. We need the money, no credit terms, straight up COD. Can you do it?"
A mix of being offended and pride played over Itto's face. Pride one. "Of course Chairwomen. I'm already implementing an aggressive sales campaign and instructing our Reps. The Japanese Government has put out a tender for the clean up of Tokyo and I assure you we will get it."
"Good." Sylia nodded. "Any other business?"
"Yes Madam Chairwoman," Candace LeCourviere, the new Public Relations head said, "The Tokyo City Council is having a fundraiser ball on Friday for city reconstruction and relief for the dispossessed. I think it would be a good idea for Genom to attend. It would also help Mr. Itto's chances at getting the tender with the city and improve Genom's PR image as a whole."
Sylia agreed. Genom's PR was as bad as its stock price. Leon's broadcast of the voomer plague during Galatea's wake of the Dragon Line - which still scarred Tokyo's skyline - had been seen by almost every western government and had been a huge thorn on her attempts to rebuild. It was lucky most of the ordinary populace didn't get ahold of the transmission, or the News agencies. If they did, Genom would be finished and so her best chance to solve the boomer problem once and for all.
"Get an invitation or buy tickets then. You and Itto will attend." Sylia gave her answer.
Candace looked over at Itto who regarded the play with a little boredom, "I think it best that the Chairwoman should attend as well. It could actually be counter productive if you weren't there."
Candace was right again, Sylia knew but she still tried to protest. "I've got far too much to do already. The rest of my week is over booked with legal and product meetings."
"I concur with Ms. LeCourviere." Itto said with a sage like bow, almost as if he had spent much time in deliberation, "While Genom has taken a big hit, you Sylia still have a lot of good will from your late Father. And you also do know how to get a deal. Together the tender is assured."
"It's settled then, I'll get invitations for you both right away." Candace smiled her rosy French smile.
Slyia smiled scarlet is return, yet wondering why she felt that she had just been ambushed.
/\/\ss/\/\
After the four hour long board meeting, which thankfully started at the beginning of the day, Sylia headed down to the R&D Division on the sixty-to- eighty levels of the towering skyscraper located on the fringe of the Osaka- Kobe business district. The elevator doors swished open, almost as comical as the late night sci-fi shows she watched while going over reports, and she walked onto a busy shop floor. She felt a pang of loss of her own small business, the Silky Doll, whenever she walked through the activity that in a way reminded her of a busy sales day. She found Nigel in his office along with Nene.
"Hi, Sylia!" Nene chimed like a cookooclock.
"Morning Nene, what are you up here for?" Sylia asked. She and Nigel just nodded to each other. She felt loss their too as their relationship had distanced. Running Genom had also played a major role. There was never any time they could spent together. She also believed that Nigel didn't agree with what she was doing, but went along with it because he always did. And for Mackey as well.
"The usual Sylia, you know, Makcey and stuff." Nene looked down and shrugged.
"Any progress?"
"No." Nigel answered.
"But we're working hard on it." Nene said with forced bravado.
Sylia patted her on the shoulder. "It'll work out Nene. You'll solve the problem."
"I hope so," Nene looked away.
Mackey, her younger brother, just like Galatea had been her sister, was a boomer and almost human. To Nigel and Nene and herself, Mackey was human but that didn't make up for the fact that he was different and those differences would become increasingly manifest as the friends around him aged.
"Keep working on it. But don't forget your other duties too either Nene."
"I won't Sylia." Nene responded blandly and walked out.
"You should ease up on her." Nigel said.
"If she doesn't have work to do she'll just get more depressed and useless to everyone." Sylia replied with tiredness in her own voice. "But that's not why I'm here."
"The S-series boomers are nearing trials. We've had some programming problems but they'll be fixed on time."
"And the trigger?" Sylia asked in apprehension.
"We won't really know until we need to use it wont we?" Nigel looked her in the eye.
Sylia could only stand the glare for a few seconds before having to look away. She hugged her arms and looked out Nigel's window at the busy floor. The trigger would have to do, it was the best she could come up with in the small amount of time and not halt boomer production. She had told Itto the truth, Genom needed the money and was doomed without it.
/\/\ss/\/\
Leon McNicols oversaw the return of two of his RRT squads as they disembarked from the cargo jet and unloaded their equipment. His chest was swelled with pride for his team and what they had done. It was also good to rescue smart-arse Daley for a change and he'd given his old friend a fair going-over for getting himself captured, and his charge too, in the first place. 'You should have known better' he'd slapped Daley on the shoulder in his hospital bed, being his usual optimistic and buffoonish self so Daley would forget the wounds and smile. He'd set out with fifteen and they were all alive. One squad was still in Sierra Leone providing the waif of a woman (and Knight Sabre he reminded himself), Linna Yamazaki, who was in charge of the whole country because they'd sold themselves to Genom. Leon, once a public servant and cop, didn't think that corporations should own countries but Sierra Leone was a messed up place and Genom with its new boss would take better care of it than the criminals who had run it in the past.
Lt. Hagura came over to him and saluted.
"No need for formalities like that when its just us, Haruga." Leon said.
Haruga shrugged, and winced a little.
"Still stiff, eh?" Leon smiled.
"Taking a rocket hit to the chest would stiffen you up to you lummox." Haruga rubbed his chest where a Sierra Leone rebel fired RPG had hit him. His Grasshopper powered suit had a bit dent in it and black burn marks all over. "Damn lucky our lady boss got 'em for us or I'd be fertilizer in that damn poor place."
"And I'd have to find a new Second Squad leader. You know how I hate having to give interviews." Leon motioned for Haruga to follow and they started walking to the cars that waited to take them back to HQ.
"The Grasshoppers, what do you know about 'em? They sure ain't like the crap we had in the ADP or what the army's got." Haruga asked.
Leon shrugged. "Bout as much as you."
"C'mon, Leon. You gotta know more than that, you're close with the lady boss."
"I wish," Leon replied, actually in negative. He wished he didn't know Sylia Stingray at all. Had never met the woman. He considered himself a man not afraid of many things, but Sylia Stingray was one of them and high up on the list. She was dangerous and a genius. Leon had a good idea that his team's Grasshoppers were like the hardsuits her Knight Sabres had worn, and he knew that they had been boomers. If he told his men and women of his command that, there was no way they'd get back in again. His men and women liked the suits and they had performed exceptionality during the hostage crises and easily routed the rebel force and destroyed their combat boomers. He was also grateful for the chance to be involved in controlling boomers again, instead of finding himself relegated back to the regular national police, and boy had they make a fair ruckus when Sylia hired almost the entire ADP force. Thankfully the Unions had been on her side because she also didn't fire any Genom Union workers even though everyone knew the company was on the ropes. Sylia sure was one hell of a lady, Leon had to give her that. Even if he did suspect her motives, her Father had invented boomers after all. But it was good then that he worked for her. Didn't that mean he could keep a close watch? It'd be good to use his old detective skills again.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto was seated in a leather lounge in his expensively decked-out office, which also like the other director suites had a bathroom and bedroom attached to it. His two lead subordinates were in other chairs and a human tea lady was just leaving after pouring them all a cup. Before the so- called terrorist strike, the tea lady would have been a boomer, but Itto didn't want to be near any of the things. In fact there wasn't a single boomer outside of R&D and Production in the entire building. His almighty boss Stingray didn't like them around either.
The tea lady left and Itto began his tirade.
"It's a disgrace that we, the people who built this company and turned it into the power that it is - was - will be again, have to listen and take orders from a girl. Just because her father was the famous Doctor Stingray that doesn't give her the right to order us around and ignore our experienced advice."
His lackeys nodded and hummed and hah'd in agreement.
"Without firm leadership Genom will crumble. In the hands of a girl we are doomed. I mean, what are we doing in a dirty African country? They owe us money so we should take it. It is a waste of time and resources to try and run the worthless place and its ugly people. They aren't even Japanese!
"Genom is on the brink, friends. We must act and quickly to save this great Company, the very symbol of Japan! The girl must be removed and a real leader put in her place. Only then will Genom return to its rightful place as leader of boomer technology."
The lackeys agreed vigorously.
"What do we do then?" one of them asked.
Itto smiled. His men were so loyal. They would follow him all the way to victory.
"She has the trust of her subordinates, outsiders the lot of them. She make think herself secure with them around but outside is a different story. She must be made to look incompetent to the rest of the board members. They must be force to act to remove her."
"But she has the controlling votes, she can veto any change."
"If the board is unanimous against her then she will have to step aside, voluntarily for by force."
/\/\ss/\/\
Candace LeCourviere looked at herself in the mirror of her office's bedroom. In a sharp cut and snug cream suit and skirt she decided that she looked just perfect. As a French woman she considered her dress sense to be immaculate, along with her manner of speech and manner of walking. She was especially proud of the way she walked. Heads would turn, mesmerized in the sway of her hips like snakes charmed and her the charmer. The feel of all their eyes on her made her feel incredibly powerful, and she liked to have power. And to use it. Power was a better lover than a man, both came to her willingly, both served her willingly, but power lasted and grew and never bored her. Men would eventually.
It was little surprise that she was drawn to the light of Public Relations like a butterfly (she would never consider herself a disgusting short lived moth). A world of visual and glamour, she was a master of it. A look, a word, and power was obtained. She had worked for many important French companies and even a political party, the face of them more than the faces of their real leaders, but Genom was the biggest fish she had caught and would transform to make her wishes true. Even Sylia Stringray, a women in arms - Candace hated the glass ceiling and boys club of the political and corporate world - was overcome and infatuated with her charm. She didn't think any less of Sylia because of it, woman of all kinds were drawn to her, the vapid and smart ones, the weak and the powerful. They all wanted to share in her success and to bask in the light and beauty she radiated. It was a given that Sylia would hire her as Genom's PR guru. What other choice did she have?
None at all, Candace smiled at her reflection. No matter how smart they were or self-confident, they would always want to be with her. Never the other way around. And they wouldn't care because she would do her job well and they would benefit. Seeing Genom as her biggest challenge, the level of prestige she would get for smarting up its tarnished image would be seen as a miracle and then there would be no doubt in the world that she was its Queen and all would be in awe of her.
"Too bad," she shrugged, still smiling, and then blew a kiss to the mirror.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia retired to her home on the one hundred and sixth floor at eight in the evening. Exhausted she changed into a robe and avoided eye contact with the stack of reports she would have to at least skim through before she went to sleep. Henderson had left a meal ready to be heated in the electric oven and she turned it and the timer on. In a champagne glass she poured some orange juice - if she wasn't allowed to have alcohol anymore she was damn still sure doing to drink from alcohol glasses! - and turned the small TV in the kitchen on to the cable news services.
The news of her take over of Sierra Leone had broken two days ago and the mass media had settled into the poor country, giving it a needed cash infusion, which also worked its way along to Genom's accounts as an amusing byproduct. The world was outraged and applauding at the same time. It had been a good choice to send Linna, her young face and true words appeased the social engineers who were now clambering for more third world involvement. Linna was still over there doing her job despite the added attention. She had to cope with the negatives; speeches from the UN and its Security Council members saying that it was illegal, governments shaking their heads. Financial and industry pundits calling her crazy. But they could do nothing but spout the hot air, because Sierra Leone had organized the deal and it was signed and approved by the respective leaderships. All that had to happen now was for it to work.
The timer buzzed and she removed the plate and sat down at the bench to eat, a refilled glass along side. Sylia missed the hard liquor but her doctor and Nigel had been adamant that she stop. Coming from Nigel that had been rich. She agreed because she was in poor health and worn out and didn't need to add any more strain on her body, which supposedly should be in the flower of youth still.
She ate in silence and eventually turned the news off. Some stocks were up, some were down. Analysts said this and that and all agreed that Genom was weak and doing some strange things. 'Even Chairman Quincy in his megalomania would not have bought a country to play with,' one Analyst joked. Sylia decided never to give an interview with CNNNN ever.
Worked called and alone, in her large full-floor open-plan apartment she responded to the siren call, wanting, just even for one night, someone to spend the darkness with.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto hurriedly walked over to his office's door then paused in front of it. He didn't want to appear in a hurry or expectant. It was not the mainly thing to do. After counting to ten, also to give time for his heart to slow down, he opened the door.
Candace breezed past him on unearthly legs, the wash of her perfume overriding his senses, just as her body overrode his self-control.
"This is nice," Candace said eyeing the office. Big chairs and a sofa. A bonsai near the wall below a large painting with a single Japanese character on it. Austere. It needed a woman's touch, and luckily she was here to give it one.
"Do you want anything to drink?" Itto asked and came up behind her. He reached out for her.
Candace walked to the window of the office. Outside the huge city gleamed with thousands of points of light. It was amazing. Itto's reflection joined her.
"Such a big city," she said, eyes looking down at him.
"Tokyo will be greater when we rebuilt it."
She smiled. Sure. She touched the glass. It was a little cooler than the room temperature. Smooth and hard at the same time. She wondered if anyone could see her this high up. There were other skyscrapers clustered in the central business district. Could one person with a pair of binoculars see her? Imagine that, having a kind of power over someone whom you couldn't see but was watching you, a voyeuristic thrill.
"Your idea with Slyia worked perfectly." Itto was behind her again, the back of his hand brushed over the back of her neck. She had tied her hair up in a bun.
"No business at this time of night Itto-sama," she said softly. "It gives me a headache."
"Ah yes. For French it is the opposite; pleasure before business."
A hand reached around her front to squeeze. "In France there is no business, just pleasure," and she undid her jacket and slipped it off her shoulders and cast it over a chair. She didn't want to get it creased. Two hands groped at her and he pressed up stiffly behind her.
"Good, good." Itto said. He leant forward and bit at her neck. He heard her moan softly. Her breasts were magnificent. No woman, especially not a western woman could reject his 'sales pitch'. They all clamoured to be with a powerful as himself. "Let's go to the bedroom." He started to bite at her ear.
"No, here first." Candace replied with a lick of her lips. She wanted to give any eyes watching from afar a good view. She leant up against the window, rear pressed out for him. His hands ran down her body with a hunger, down her skirt to the end and then started to lift it up, palms on her thighs like glue, raising it up above her hips to her waist. She heard his belt and zipper. "Itto-sama," she cooed and she felt him, and knew that he was in her power the moment he touched and she smiled, letting herself go, leeching his power into her, attaining the bliss and fire she required.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia tried not to look like she was staring down Candace's blouse but it was difficult when her PR Director leaned right over her desk and laid down the invitation to the Tokyo fundraiser.
"Thanks." She said and caught Candace staring at her with a grin. "You know, before I ran this, I owned a woman's dress store in Tokyo."
"Oh, I know all about that Ms. Stingray. Who doesn't know this rags to riches story." Candace said.
"Nice pun." Sylia smiled back. It was good to have another high-powered woman in the company, and an excellent dresser. "I would have had a few dresses that would have just been perfect for you."
"Really?" Candace supplied the fake enthusiasm. Only the Italians could give her any tips on dressing. Just. Syia dressed well, as far as Asian style went, which was years behind Europe. But she had a good figure to fill a suit out with and her hair made her striking. Like brushed silver. It was the only part of Sylia that Candace thought was superior to herself.
"But I had to give that up. Sometimes I wonder why. A lot less stressful." Or had it been?
Candace sat on the end of the table and leaned over. "How can you say that? Running a boutique is what the men of this world think women should be doing. Genom would be in charge of a man now, probably as part of a liquidation team if it weren't for you. It takes a lot of guts to get into this world and being successful at it sure does piss them off. That's worth it alone."
"Thanks Candace. I guess I need my moments of support."
Candace grinned and hopped of the table. She squeezed Sylia's shoulder just so and then let it run off softly as she started to walk away, saying: "Hope you have fun at the fundraiser."
"I'll try." Sylia called after. When Candace had left her office she put her hand on her shoulder, still feeling the touch. What had that been? She asked herself. Confusion alien to her, she put the ambiguous touch out of her mind and returned to work. But for the rest of the day she would find her hand on her shoulder.
/\/\ss/\/\
Nigel opened up the Grasshopper hardsuit while Leon looked on with folded arms. "You say it took a direct rocket hit?"
"That's right," Leon replied. "Damn fool flew himself into it."
"Still, it doesn't look like there's too much damage." Nigel poked around the interior of the suit.
"His men thought he was dead. Knocked out cold." Leon liked Nigel. He was a man. He drank, maybe a little too much, and did manly things. He also knew a lot about Sylia and the other Knight Sabres and the Grasshoppers.
"How'd the rest go?" Nigel asked.
"Good. Just some scratches. My team is really impressed."
"They ought to be." Nigel said with creationalist pride. The suits were his design. He'd modified the girl's hardsuits so they could take any user, didn't matter who, the user could change at any time. They were bigger than the hardsuits, about seven feet tall, a foot shorter than a CaseSuit, and not as wide or as blocky. The suit retained human style shape and had a box of a jetpack on its back and the arms had high-velocity machine guns in them. They were designed for ranged combat from the get go. Nigel had seen the girls get injured too many times when fighting in close with boomers that had little more mind than a crazed animal. Genom's threats were also going to be more likely armed, as Sierra Leone had proved.
"So, are they like the Knight Sabre's hardsuits?" Leon asked.
"They're bigger."
"I can see that. But, y'know, what makes them. go?"
Nigel stepped back from the open machine and stared at Leon. "Does it matter?"
Leon shrugged and felt the need to pick up a piece of metal lying about. "It might."
"They're safe."
"That doesn't make me glad to here. Most of my men are ADP. We risked our lives to fight boomers. We work here because it's out job to destroy any that go rogue, and it's easier to do when the builder lets you."
Nigel went back to work on the Grasshopper. "No one's forcing you to do anything Leon."
"Dammit. That's not what I'm saying. I agree with Sylia on these and the RRT. Control over boomers is better than fighting them with nothing. Its just."
"What?"
"I thought it was all over." Leon put the metal down. "And I could get back to a normal life."
"You still can."
"Is that your opinion?"
"I don't have an opinion, Leon. I'm informing you of one of your choices. I just do what I'm told."
Yeah, I've noticed, Leon didn't say aloud. Nigel didn't deserve that. "Well thanks anyway, for listening. Let me know when they're done." And he left.
Mackey entered the workshop from another entrance as Leon was leaving. "What was that about?" he asked.
"Men's stuff."
Nigel left it at that.
/\/\ss/\/\
The day ended like any other. Sylia returned to her apartment, did some work but decided to go to sleep early. She had unsettled dreams, tossing and turning beneath her sheets and she woke up in the middle of the night with a gasping cry. Her sheets were wet with her sweat and the smell of something else. Dazed, wondering what she had done and more importantly why she tried to remember her dream but could only recollect a few blurred images that made no sense. She had a shower and changed her sheets and managed to find sleep again for a few hours before the alarm went off to wake her.
/\/\ss/\/\
During the same night but in another city hours away by bullet train a warehouse was broken into and one of the containers stored within stolen. The warehouse wasn't due for any In or Out transfers until after the weekend and so the stolen container was not missed by the few Security personnel who only looked outwards with the aid of a few cheap boomers. It was these boomers that the intruders neutralized for the time they needed with a device that been developed by someone who had worked on the team that had designed that model of boomer.
In another part of the city, the ruined city, a lone figure walked through the broken streets and by the transmogrified buildings. Everyone else took the figure for another drifter or squatter seeking loot or somewhere free to live. Small groups of such circled around fires in petrol drums and only gave a cursory glance or an invitation to share the warmth of the blaze. The figure ignored them all, continuing into the heart of the city that was said to be haunted.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia gave a half a days work and then used a few hours to get herself ready for the fundraiser. She also needed enough time to get to Tokyo and to the convention hall that was a few kilometers out from the quarantine zone. The City Council wanted the guests to know that Tokyo had been devastated, but didn't want to get them close enough to show them. From cameras it was a total mess. But Sylia had been there when it had happened, when Galatea had unleashed the Dragon Line and taken over every building in central Tokyo. No camera could do justice to being there, feeling the agony of the city and the emptiness that would possess it now.
Her only contact with Itto was to inform him of the time he needed to be at the helipad for the flight by VTOL to Tokyo. The trip would take two hours and she hoped she didn't have to talk to the man for too long. Otherwise he might find himself falling out the plane and she in need of a new Head of Marketing, or S&M as Linna liked to call it. The girl had turned beet red when she had asked if she would have liked to be transferred there, to S&M. Teasing Linna each day brightened her mood a little. Maybe that's why I feel down, she's away and I don't have my dartboard. That's mean, Sylia Stingray. Linna is a good friend and supporter. You should be nicer to her.
By herself she had her face done and a manicure and then went in search for a dress. She thought of Candace and wondered how she would appear; likely in something simple yet eye catching, and eye keeping. It was good to have a PR spokesperson who drew all the attention to her and away from what she was saying. It made her own job a lot easier and was reducing the amount of bad press for Genom. Money well spent.
She ended up selecting a dark blue gown that looked night-black, with pearl ear-rings and necklace and matching purse.
/\/\ss/\/\
Dressed and ready she joined Itto at the helipad and they entered the Genom VTOL. Like the rest of Genom's airfleet, the VTOL was under a long term contract that had been signed before the disaster and so, paid for, could still be used. The craft were already proving useful.
The VTOL interior was luxurious, definitely a business model. Sylia and Itto took different sides of the plane. Sylia spoke early to get what she needed out of the way before the flight.
"Who else is going to be there?"
"Well everyone. But I guess you mean who is important for the tender. The most important are Mayor Hasegawa and his wife; she is very influential and a bit vain. Councilmen Ogori, Shikotsu and Nakajima will all be on the approval committee and have major parts of their districts in the quarantine zone."
"Are we expected bribe them?"
"I doubt we have the finances for that,"
"So we have to find out what they want and give them more."
"Exactly."
"I hate politics."
"I agree, commerce is much better."
They didn't speak for the remainder of the journey.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia made sure the pilot flew over the quarantine zone. Standing out amongst the rest of the buildings was the hideously transformed Totem Pole, the ADP building. The maw of the giant boomer head still remained. It was still. As was the whole area. There was no power. The buildings, windows broken, facades disfigured, were like skulls leering back at her. Her failure to stop Galatea before the mad sister had almost unleashed the plague on the rest of the world. But then, it hadn't been her that had stopped Galatea. It had been Priss.
Unlike Linna and Nene, Priss had not been found. Galatea had been destroyed and perhaps Priss as well, uncharacteristically sacrificing herself for the world she did not like. Or, just as the others had survived, maybe she had too and was someone on Earth, but had discarded them finally. While the others would have liked to have her back, Sylia only wanted to thank her for getting Mackey back.
They quarantine zone fell behind and they landed and were taken to the function in a limousine to arrive and be escorted inside past a curious crowd and a growing number of reporters and news vans. She heard someone call out her name as she hurried up the steps as rain started to fall.
The hall was large and floor layered with a thick red carpet. Hundreds were already present; guests and staff, all finely attired and clustered about benches of refreshment or sitting tables. A black tie band played at one end of the hall.
"I hope the fundraiser raises more than this cost." Sylia said.
"Well then, let us make ourselves known. No point dallying."
They found the Mayor surrounded by a large circle of followers and tender- seekers. The crowd parted a little to let them through except for one man. He stepped out to block their passage with an offered hand.
"My dear Itto, it has been a long time." The man said.
"Yagyu Kito, a long time indeed." Itto said for Sylia's benefit and shook Kito's hand.
"Still at Genom I hear?"
"Yes. You at Fuchikoma Construction?"
"Yes. Ah, and this must be your illustrious Chairwoman, Ms Sylia Stingray, daughter of the famed Doctor Stingray, or has she been married and is a Mrs?" Kito said with a smiling face but eyes that were like daggers.
"Still a Miss Mr. Yagyu. Little time for family running Japan's largest corporation." Sylia replied.
Itto smiled, he might not like Sylia much but he was a Genom loyalist to the core and wouldn't take any offense. "And we will be more than that again shortly."
"After the quarantine zone tender then?" Kito said.
"Aren't we all?" Itto sidestepped Kito and brought Sylia along with him to present the both of them to the Mayor of Tokyo. They both bowed politely.
"Ms. Stingray, you do look quite well. I hope the same for you company?" the Mayor said in formality.
Sylia knew that what she said in reply would strongly influence the Mayors decision and also what the rest of the Japanese business community thought of her and Genom. She knew that many regarded her as trying to use her Father's fame to win her own glory, a little girl trying to play the big game with men. She remembered what Candace had said to her about the glass ceiling.
"Genom improves daily, Sir. I expect to see us back at full capacity with new models in less than a year."
There were mummers of disbelief.
"And you want to know why gentlemen?" Itto stepped up, "Because Genom has the best products and the only products that can be trusted. Our new models will be the best yet in terms of quality and performance. Our competitors are still infants in boomer production and maintenance. Genom has the skills and experience and the record."
"Then why have you hired the entire ADP? Wasn't it their job to destroy boomers?" Kito snidely remarked.
"We take pride in our employees and our new Security Consultancy branch will allow all Genom customers to feel secure. In any case Yagyu, boomers are much more efficient at construction. They work all day and, unlike humans, have fewer accidents. I'm sorry about the dozen men that died in Hokkaido."
"That was the fault of a sub-contractor -" Kito spluttered.
"When you deal with Genom you deal with us and we take full responsibility." Sylia joined in. They'd just easily placed Genom ahead of Fuchikoma. She'd have to talk to Itto about his 'Security Consultancy' later. That was never part of her plan.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Tonight will not be full of industrial sabotage, I'll leave that to you in private." The Mayor said and the crowd gave the required laugh.
"We should mingle," Itto suggested.
Sylia nodded and when Itto stayed put that he meant for her to mingle while he schmoozed the Major and other councilmen. He probably wanted her to find the Mayors wife and treat her vanity. As if.
Instead she spied a waitered bench and saw that there were bottles of champagne and wine. The hunger woke in her stomach and unable to resist she threaded her way to the bench.
/\/\ss/\/\
Outside the raining was falling heavily. Two vans drove past the convention building and turned along side it into a side lane. A pair of policemen came out of the cover from the rain and ordered the vans to stop.
While one of the policemen lit a cigarette to stay warm the other walked up to the driver's side and motioned for the window to be rolled down which it was.
"This area's restricted, you will have to turn back."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," the driver said back. "I'm lost, I'm trying to reach the Ayami Hotel."
The policeman frowned, "That's on the other side of town,"
"Foolish me," said the driver and he shot the policeman in the face with a silenced pistol.
The other policeman heard a grunt and clatter as his compatriot fell. He ran around to see what had happened and was shot as well from the passenger side.
"Get the bodies in the van and then move into position."
/\/\ss/\/\
"Well, well. If it isn't the famous Sylia Stringray." A male voice said from next to Sylia. She turned and looked at the tall westerner with a press tag smiling at her. She read the tag.
"George Negus of CNNNN."
"Care for an interview?" George asked while receiving a glass of sparkling wine from a waiter.
"Sorry. I don't give interviews." Sylia took her own glass. The apprehension she self was incredible. It had been half a year since her last drink. The rising bubbles called out to her. Begged to travel down her throat. She didn't realize how long she'd been staring at it when George cleared his throat.
"Maybe you shouldn't drink that." He took hold of it above Sylia's hand.
"I'm fine." Sylia snapped and resisted.
"Careful, don't spill it over your dress." George let go. "It wouldn't do if people got hold of your problem."
Sylia looked at him in anger. "It's not a problem, and how dare you for threatening me."
George held us his hands. "I'm saying that as someone who has been there Ms. Stingray, not to use it against you. How long has it been?"
"Six months."
"That's a good effort. Don't let it go to waste. Now." he reached out to grab it again and jerked forward as someone bumped into him from behind. His fingers hit the top of the glass and it tipped.
The first drops were spilling before Sylia knew what had happened. She felt the drops hit her upper chest and saw the large wave heading towards her. Reflexes kicked in and she twisted to the side and the airborne liquid flew by to strike someone else.
"Sorry about that," George apologized and a waiter scurried to clean up the mess. "Better there than fogging your head," he said quietly to Sylia.
Sylia got a napkin and dabbed at the drops on her. "Excuse me, I'm going to clean my self up." She stalked off.
George mentally kicked himself. Way to go champ.
/\/\ss/\/\
The radio signals came in and all was ready. The signal was given.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia pushed the bathroom door forcefully and stomped into it. She found a spare mirror between the other women powdering their noses and saw gladly that her dress hadn't been stained. She wet the napkin and brushed it over her sticky skin.
Her emotions were conflicting. Relieved that she had not had any drink, angry that her chance had been spoilt. Her body had ached for the alcohol to work on her. One drink, just this one night, wouldn't be bad for her. No one would care, no one would tell. She'd be like everyone else and that was okay, wasn't it?
She dabbed her face with water and told herself to calm down. She had a role to play, an important one, that required all of her attention.
Straightening herself up she left the bathroom and ran into the damn reporter.
"Are you stalking me?" she yelled.
"No, I -" George backed up, "I just wanted to apologise. It isn't any of my business if you drink or not,"
"Got that right. Now let me through."
The building shook.
"What was that?" someone said.
Then the roof collapsed and dust and debris filled the air.
/\/\ss/\/\
From the solitude of the city the loner felt the disturbance. For days it had been drawn to the source of the weak signal and now it had manifested itself. Standing upright and looking out over the broken spires of Tokyo and the trunks of the Dragon Line, the loner scanned for the signal and found it. With darting steps the cloak about flew.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia coughed out the dust and plaster that had filled her mouth. Next to her George was doing the same. She pulled herself upright and looked around.
The hallway was full of floating dust and most of the roof had caved in. Concrete, wires and the floor above blocked the hall. The bathroom door creaked open and terrified looking women peeked outside. Through the door way she caught her reflection in a mirror. Her face was white with dust.
"So much for the dress," it was dirtied too.
George stood up beside her. "Nothing a wash wont do. Now, what do you think happened?"
Sylia hoped what her first thought was wasn't true. A metallic roar from beyond the rubble filled corridor destroyed that hope. "Rogue boomers." She said.
"What, you're kidding?" George said. "I thought that was all propaganda by anti-boomer activities like the fabled Knight Sabres."
"Oh, they're real all right." Another roar was heard. Some gunfire. "Stay in the bathroom and don't come out." Sylia ordered the women. They obeyed quickly.
"That's a good idea, we should join them and let the police handle this."
Sylia snorted. "If it is boomers, the police wont have a chance. I need to contact my company." She looked around for another way out. Her eyes settled upwards.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto was hunkered down behind a bench against the wall with many just as frightened black suit wearing men and women in dresses. He watched as a pair of boomers, clearly Genom models, rampaged through the hall. Smoke was everywhere and so were bodies lying still on the ground. Some were policemen who had tried to shoot the boomers. The sound their bones made where hitting the ground were terrible.
"Someone call for help!"
"Someone call the Knight Sabres!"
/\/\ss/\/\
With all the reporters outside the news was on the air within minutes and broadcasts taken over. With no Genom media manipulation (waste of money, Sylia had cancelled the program), the services put the boomer rampage story on live on every channel and more channels began to converge on the site.
/\/\ss/\/\
"Holy shit, Leon, you gotta see this!" Haruga burst into Leon's office where he was writing up Sierra Leone.
"I'm kinda busy, Haruga."
"But it's a rogue boomer!"
"What!?" Leon shot out of his seat and followed Haruga to the lunchroom where the TV was. Sure enough, the reporter was claiming that a fundraising function had been attacked by rogue boomers that had already killed several policemen. The building was being surrounded. Noise of destruction could be heard from inside.
"What do we do?" Haruga asked.
Leon ground his teeth. "Wait for orders. It's not our mandate to go rushing off like the Knight Sabres would have." And they would have, without a hesitation. Leon expected a call to come down from Sylia at any moment authorizing his men into action to destroy the boomers. That was what they'd been created for, wasn't it?
"Where's it taking place?"
"Tokyo."
Of all the places, where else?
"That's hours away. We'd never get there in time."
"But shouldn't we at least get ready?" Haruga asked.
"Good idea." Leon said, looking back to his office, waiting for the phone to ring.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia held out her hand and pulled when George took it. He scrambled up the pile of rubble.
"What are we doing this for?" he asked.
"To find a phone. You don't have one?"
"No. I said that before. Phones were confiscated on the way in."
"What kind of reporter are you then if you can't sneak in a phone?" Sylia asked.
"A respectable one."
Sylia snorted and stood up when the floor of the level felt secure. She had torn her incredibly expensive dress above the knee and then ripped a slit up her thigh so she could run if she had to. She used a strip of the dress to tie back her hair. George was quite amazed at her transformation.
"You check that side, there has to be an office here."
"Okay."
They found storerooms and small meeting rooms with plugs for phones and network connections but they saw no phones. Sylia couldn't believe it. What kind of centre didn't have a phone?
"I think were over the hall." George said.
The thumps of the boomers caused the room to shudder.
"We'd better hurry."
They did and entered a new corridor. Thankfully the first room they checked had a phone. Sylia picked it up and quickly punched in the direct number for the Security Division. One RRT was always on base.
"Dammit, get through," she scowled.
"Is it dead?"
Sylia swore. "It's dead. We've got to get outside."
The floor groaned.
"Get out!" George yelled.
/\/\ss/\/\
The RRT prepped their gear in record time and then sat waiting around for orders. Leon was on the phone but no one knew where Sylia was and other directors said to leave it to the local authorities. 'Chief' Roland was on his way to Sierra Leone. His subordinate couldn't be reached. He punched the table.
"No word." Haruga asked when Leon reentered the lunchroom.
"None."
"Man. This can't be happening. Our first rogue boomer and no Sylia hasn't told us to go."
"Just like old times. Sitting on our hands."
"Too bad the Knight Sabres have gone into retirement," a trooper called Simmons said.
"Yeah." One was in Sierra Leone. The other probably on the computer or asleep. Another somewhere in the city. The last, no one knew where she was. Her loss he felt the most.
"So you saying that we need lady boss' command to go?" another trooper said.
"That's right Shihara. She can give us the green light. All the others have gone chicken on us." Haruga answered.
"Well, wouldn't that be hard? I mean, she's in there with the boomers."
"What!?" Leon and Haruga shouted.
Shihara cringed. "Hey, don't kill me. They just showed some footage of who had gone in and she was one of them."
Leon tried to not to run over and strangle the life out of Shihara, or to crush him in a hug. "Okay people. Suit up and rack up, we've got our green light."
Cheers filled the lunchroom.
/\/\ss/\/\
Using the small mirror from her purse, Sylia inched it out into the corridor from the room they had fled into. Dust and smoke obscured the view but then a solid ropy leg came into view, a second, and a third, and a forth. Sylia ducked back and tried not to make a sound. The boomer was well into the rogue stage by the look of its mutated body. That meant it was very dangerous and unpredictable.
On her hands and knees she crawled over to George who was looking the worse for wear. She held a finger up to her lips and he nodded. She noticed that the CNNNN press badge was missing.
The beast thumped closer to the door and stopped by it. Sylia swore to herself, the door was open. All the other doors would be shut or locked.
"Get read to run," she whispered to George. He swallowed.
The door was nuzzled open and the beast revealed.
"My god!" George exclaimed.
Damn! "Run!"
The beast leapt into the room and smashed the table between them. Splinters flew through the air. Sylia kicked open the door to the next room and sped through it with George close behind. The giant hound looking beast snarled and came after them in a lope. It smashed the doorframe as it passed through.
"Don't stop," Sylia yelled and hurdled a chair. She came to another door and yanked at the handle. It was locked. She swore. The beast entered the room and she ducked down behind a bench. She didn't know where George had gone. The boomer breathed noisily. She inched back the way she had come and got out the mirror again. When she reached the end of the bench she held the mirror and angled it around the corner.
She screamed.
The beast's face filled the mirror.
"Over here you bastard!" George shouted and threw whatever he could find at the back of the rogue boomer that was easily twice his size.
The boomer then did something incredibly strange, it picked up one of the hurled objects and threw it back. The force lodged it into the wall where George's head had been.
Sylia used the distraction to charge past the boomer but it was after her quickly. Her mind raced over the boomers behaviour. It wasn't acting like a rogue at all. It was acting purposefully. And it was after her. She ran as fast as she could in the confinement and jumped out of the room she had first hidden in, the beasts claw swiping and missing just. She crashed into the wall and tried to roll off it but the boomer leapt and its fore claws pushed her back into the wall. Its terrible face was inches from hers, snarling. The jaw started to open.
Then it stopped and Sylia became aware that she wasn't alone with the boomer and the other wasn't George. Slowly she turned her head and saw a dark shape standing down the corridor. The lights were mostly broken but she could tell that it was human. And.
The stranger had its arm held out and it began to walk to the boomer. The hand was gloved and the stranger's body cloaked, face his behind a wrap of black cloth.
The boomer jerked in tiny motions like ensnared and trying to find a way free without tearing itself apart. Hot red eyes darted between Sylia and the stranger. The stranger got closer and the boomer was forced backwards. With the other hand the stranger motioned for Sylia to go the way he had come. George slipped by the other side.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I don't know."
The struggle between the stranger and the boomer then ended and the boomer let out a great roar and leapt. It was fascinating to watch the beast rise with its jaw opening and metal teeth slid out into place. It was more fascinating to watch the cloaked stranger grab the beast by the throat and throw it to the floor and then punch a hand into the beast's belly. Green and orange fluid spurted out as the core was destroyed. The stranger stood, muck dripping from its hand.
"Who are you?" George asked.
Sylia felt that the stranger was looking at her and it made her uncomfortable. It brought back bad memories. Her Father. She shook her head and opened her eyes. The stranger was gone.
"I think its time to get out of here."
"Yes." Sylia agreed.
/\/\ss/\/\
A fire engine put up a ladder for them and they got on quickly. The centre was surrounded by police and other services. The media contingent was almost as large. Dozens of reports flocked over them then when they got down. She was instantly recognized as Sylia Stingray.
"Miss Stingray, what is wrong with Genom boomers? Are all the rumours of their danger true?"
"What has Genom been hiding? The public demands to know the truth!"
Sylia snatched the first phone she saw and quickly got Leon's status. He would arrive in another hour. She told the reporters to wait another hour and see what Genom was really about. She also found out that two more boomers were in the building. Scores of men and women had escaped the building but over two hundred were still trapped inside. Candace called on the phone.
"How did you get this number?" Sylia asked. It wasn't her phone.
"Leon gave it to me. Some blonde traced it." Nene, Syia thought and smiled. "Have you spoken to any reporters yet?"
"No."
"Good. Don't. We'll make a statement in the morning."
"Well, you better be watching what happens when the RRT gets here. That should help clean up our image. We've got all the hostages to rescue."
"Uh, I don't know if that's a good idea Sylia." Candace said.
"Don't worry. I have full confidence in my team."
Sylia put away the phone.
"What am I waiting or?" Geroge asked. He was wrapped in a towel and held one out to Sylia. She took it and put it about her shoulders. What she really needed was a pair of pants. She hoped the paparazzi weren't taking advantage of the situation.
/\/\ss/\/\
The stranger pulled the covering away from its face and enjoyed the cool air that ran over the skin. Standing on top of a building a block away from the convention centre, its attention was diverted to the approaching sound of a rotor and five small, subdued voices. Briefly anger welled but it was controlled at the aircraft passed overhead and hovered above the convention centre. Five large figures dropped out onto the roof. The stranger left.
/\/\ss/\/\
After bursts of gunfire the hostages started to stream out of the convention centre and policemen and medics rushed inside. As the trickle of rescued died down a big black shape filled the doorway and people started to scream and run.
Sylia recongised the Grasshopper and rushed up the steps. The visor flipped open.
"There you are," Leon said.
"It's over?" Sylia asked.
"Yes. Bagged a pair of boomers, but it was weird -"
"Because they didn't feel rogue?"
"Right. We had to destroy them both."
Sylia nodded. "Thanks for coming to get me. How does it feel?"
"To be on the other side for a change?" Leon grinned.
"Yeah." Sylia grinned back. Black sooty face and white teeth.
"Great."
"Make sure you recover the boomer's corpses. They're our property."
"Okay." And he returned into the centre.
George ran up to her ahead of the media crowd again. "Jesus, they were yours?"
She turned around, and freed her bound hair and shook it out. Despite her utter state of dishevlemement she looked a stunner. "No comment, and that's all your going to get tonight ladies and gentlemen."
"What do you think the headline should be Miss Stingray?" Goerge stepped closer to her, "Genom destroys boomers. Almost impossible to think isn't it?"
"I'll tell you later." She replied.
"Is that an confirmation of an interview?" he asked.
"It's a date," and she turned around and spotting Itto, heading in his direction.
George rubbed his face, wondering which way to take Sylia's last words. He shrugged, either way it would be a headline.
Sylia Stingray, CEO and Chairwoman of the Board of Genom Corporation sat at the head of the boardroom meeting table with a pained expression on her face. Diagoro Itto, the head of the Marketing Department was one of the few directors she wasn't able to get rid of when she took power; the large spectacle wearing thin man had been a favourite of the late Chairmain Quincy and still held considerable power in the corporation. It was a well known secret that he didn't like her and was the leader of a clique of other old timers who wanted to get rid of her and return to the already nostalgic good old days of world power politics and a monopoly market. Too bad reality was well beyond his pipe dream, but it was a dream that he persisted with nonetheless. Like the speech he was giving now.
"Two thirds of the Scientists and Engineers that left Genom after the terrorist strike did not put in their resignation papers. I say we should sue the companies that stole them, and the employees for Breach Of Contract and selling company secrets. Boomer technology is ours and we can't let upstart Americans and Europeans steal our markets, or those wet nosed ASEANs rip off our quality products with the junk they make." Itto pounded the table with his boney hand as he named each adversary.
"Itto," Sylia started, she didn't want to let any of her anger or frustration show through in her words, despite it being openly broadcast on her face, "We have enough legal problems as it is and not enough money to fight them all. Money is our main concern and to get it we must sell our product and that is your job. Sales have plummeted and contracts cancelled. Now," Sylia held up a hand, "before you blame the 'terrorist strike', I realize that many cancellations are out of our control and you and your Department are doing the best you can. You have to keep doing that and with all your attention. I - we, are counting on you. We need the money, no credit terms, straight up COD. Can you do it?"
A mix of being offended and pride played over Itto's face. Pride one. "Of course Chairwomen. I'm already implementing an aggressive sales campaign and instructing our Reps. The Japanese Government has put out a tender for the clean up of Tokyo and I assure you we will get it."
"Good." Sylia nodded. "Any other business?"
"Yes Madam Chairwoman," Candace LeCourviere, the new Public Relations head said, "The Tokyo City Council is having a fundraiser ball on Friday for city reconstruction and relief for the dispossessed. I think it would be a good idea for Genom to attend. It would also help Mr. Itto's chances at getting the tender with the city and improve Genom's PR image as a whole."
Sylia agreed. Genom's PR was as bad as its stock price. Leon's broadcast of the voomer plague during Galatea's wake of the Dragon Line - which still scarred Tokyo's skyline - had been seen by almost every western government and had been a huge thorn on her attempts to rebuild. It was lucky most of the ordinary populace didn't get ahold of the transmission, or the News agencies. If they did, Genom would be finished and so her best chance to solve the boomer problem once and for all.
"Get an invitation or buy tickets then. You and Itto will attend." Sylia gave her answer.
Candace looked over at Itto who regarded the play with a little boredom, "I think it best that the Chairwoman should attend as well. It could actually be counter productive if you weren't there."
Candace was right again, Sylia knew but she still tried to protest. "I've got far too much to do already. The rest of my week is over booked with legal and product meetings."
"I concur with Ms. LeCourviere." Itto said with a sage like bow, almost as if he had spent much time in deliberation, "While Genom has taken a big hit, you Sylia still have a lot of good will from your late Father. And you also do know how to get a deal. Together the tender is assured."
"It's settled then, I'll get invitations for you both right away." Candace smiled her rosy French smile.
Slyia smiled scarlet is return, yet wondering why she felt that she had just been ambushed.
/\/\ss/\/\
After the four hour long board meeting, which thankfully started at the beginning of the day, Sylia headed down to the R&D Division on the sixty-to- eighty levels of the towering skyscraper located on the fringe of the Osaka- Kobe business district. The elevator doors swished open, almost as comical as the late night sci-fi shows she watched while going over reports, and she walked onto a busy shop floor. She felt a pang of loss of her own small business, the Silky Doll, whenever she walked through the activity that in a way reminded her of a busy sales day. She found Nigel in his office along with Nene.
"Hi, Sylia!" Nene chimed like a cookooclock.
"Morning Nene, what are you up here for?" Sylia asked. She and Nigel just nodded to each other. She felt loss their too as their relationship had distanced. Running Genom had also played a major role. There was never any time they could spent together. She also believed that Nigel didn't agree with what she was doing, but went along with it because he always did. And for Mackey as well.
"The usual Sylia, you know, Makcey and stuff." Nene looked down and shrugged.
"Any progress?"
"No." Nigel answered.
"But we're working hard on it." Nene said with forced bravado.
Sylia patted her on the shoulder. "It'll work out Nene. You'll solve the problem."
"I hope so," Nene looked away.
Mackey, her younger brother, just like Galatea had been her sister, was a boomer and almost human. To Nigel and Nene and herself, Mackey was human but that didn't make up for the fact that he was different and those differences would become increasingly manifest as the friends around him aged.
"Keep working on it. But don't forget your other duties too either Nene."
"I won't Sylia." Nene responded blandly and walked out.
"You should ease up on her." Nigel said.
"If she doesn't have work to do she'll just get more depressed and useless to everyone." Sylia replied with tiredness in her own voice. "But that's not why I'm here."
"The S-series boomers are nearing trials. We've had some programming problems but they'll be fixed on time."
"And the trigger?" Sylia asked in apprehension.
"We won't really know until we need to use it wont we?" Nigel looked her in the eye.
Sylia could only stand the glare for a few seconds before having to look away. She hugged her arms and looked out Nigel's window at the busy floor. The trigger would have to do, it was the best she could come up with in the small amount of time and not halt boomer production. She had told Itto the truth, Genom needed the money and was doomed without it.
/\/\ss/\/\
Leon McNicols oversaw the return of two of his RRT squads as they disembarked from the cargo jet and unloaded their equipment. His chest was swelled with pride for his team and what they had done. It was also good to rescue smart-arse Daley for a change and he'd given his old friend a fair going-over for getting himself captured, and his charge too, in the first place. 'You should have known better' he'd slapped Daley on the shoulder in his hospital bed, being his usual optimistic and buffoonish self so Daley would forget the wounds and smile. He'd set out with fifteen and they were all alive. One squad was still in Sierra Leone providing the waif of a woman (and Knight Sabre he reminded himself), Linna Yamazaki, who was in charge of the whole country because they'd sold themselves to Genom. Leon, once a public servant and cop, didn't think that corporations should own countries but Sierra Leone was a messed up place and Genom with its new boss would take better care of it than the criminals who had run it in the past.
Lt. Hagura came over to him and saluted.
"No need for formalities like that when its just us, Haruga." Leon said.
Haruga shrugged, and winced a little.
"Still stiff, eh?" Leon smiled.
"Taking a rocket hit to the chest would stiffen you up to you lummox." Haruga rubbed his chest where a Sierra Leone rebel fired RPG had hit him. His Grasshopper powered suit had a bit dent in it and black burn marks all over. "Damn lucky our lady boss got 'em for us or I'd be fertilizer in that damn poor place."
"And I'd have to find a new Second Squad leader. You know how I hate having to give interviews." Leon motioned for Haruga to follow and they started walking to the cars that waited to take them back to HQ.
"The Grasshoppers, what do you know about 'em? They sure ain't like the crap we had in the ADP or what the army's got." Haruga asked.
Leon shrugged. "Bout as much as you."
"C'mon, Leon. You gotta know more than that, you're close with the lady boss."
"I wish," Leon replied, actually in negative. He wished he didn't know Sylia Stingray at all. Had never met the woman. He considered himself a man not afraid of many things, but Sylia Stingray was one of them and high up on the list. She was dangerous and a genius. Leon had a good idea that his team's Grasshoppers were like the hardsuits her Knight Sabres had worn, and he knew that they had been boomers. If he told his men and women of his command that, there was no way they'd get back in again. His men and women liked the suits and they had performed exceptionality during the hostage crises and easily routed the rebel force and destroyed their combat boomers. He was also grateful for the chance to be involved in controlling boomers again, instead of finding himself relegated back to the regular national police, and boy had they make a fair ruckus when Sylia hired almost the entire ADP force. Thankfully the Unions had been on her side because she also didn't fire any Genom Union workers even though everyone knew the company was on the ropes. Sylia sure was one hell of a lady, Leon had to give her that. Even if he did suspect her motives, her Father had invented boomers after all. But it was good then that he worked for her. Didn't that mean he could keep a close watch? It'd be good to use his old detective skills again.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto was seated in a leather lounge in his expensively decked-out office, which also like the other director suites had a bathroom and bedroom attached to it. His two lead subordinates were in other chairs and a human tea lady was just leaving after pouring them all a cup. Before the so- called terrorist strike, the tea lady would have been a boomer, but Itto didn't want to be near any of the things. In fact there wasn't a single boomer outside of R&D and Production in the entire building. His almighty boss Stingray didn't like them around either.
The tea lady left and Itto began his tirade.
"It's a disgrace that we, the people who built this company and turned it into the power that it is - was - will be again, have to listen and take orders from a girl. Just because her father was the famous Doctor Stingray that doesn't give her the right to order us around and ignore our experienced advice."
His lackeys nodded and hummed and hah'd in agreement.
"Without firm leadership Genom will crumble. In the hands of a girl we are doomed. I mean, what are we doing in a dirty African country? They owe us money so we should take it. It is a waste of time and resources to try and run the worthless place and its ugly people. They aren't even Japanese!
"Genom is on the brink, friends. We must act and quickly to save this great Company, the very symbol of Japan! The girl must be removed and a real leader put in her place. Only then will Genom return to its rightful place as leader of boomer technology."
The lackeys agreed vigorously.
"What do we do then?" one of them asked.
Itto smiled. His men were so loyal. They would follow him all the way to victory.
"She has the trust of her subordinates, outsiders the lot of them. She make think herself secure with them around but outside is a different story. She must be made to look incompetent to the rest of the board members. They must be force to act to remove her."
"But she has the controlling votes, she can veto any change."
"If the board is unanimous against her then she will have to step aside, voluntarily for by force."
/\/\ss/\/\
Candace LeCourviere looked at herself in the mirror of her office's bedroom. In a sharp cut and snug cream suit and skirt she decided that she looked just perfect. As a French woman she considered her dress sense to be immaculate, along with her manner of speech and manner of walking. She was especially proud of the way she walked. Heads would turn, mesmerized in the sway of her hips like snakes charmed and her the charmer. The feel of all their eyes on her made her feel incredibly powerful, and she liked to have power. And to use it. Power was a better lover than a man, both came to her willingly, both served her willingly, but power lasted and grew and never bored her. Men would eventually.
It was little surprise that she was drawn to the light of Public Relations like a butterfly (she would never consider herself a disgusting short lived moth). A world of visual and glamour, she was a master of it. A look, a word, and power was obtained. She had worked for many important French companies and even a political party, the face of them more than the faces of their real leaders, but Genom was the biggest fish she had caught and would transform to make her wishes true. Even Sylia Stringray, a women in arms - Candace hated the glass ceiling and boys club of the political and corporate world - was overcome and infatuated with her charm. She didn't think any less of Sylia because of it, woman of all kinds were drawn to her, the vapid and smart ones, the weak and the powerful. They all wanted to share in her success and to bask in the light and beauty she radiated. It was a given that Sylia would hire her as Genom's PR guru. What other choice did she have?
None at all, Candace smiled at her reflection. No matter how smart they were or self-confident, they would always want to be with her. Never the other way around. And they wouldn't care because she would do her job well and they would benefit. Seeing Genom as her biggest challenge, the level of prestige she would get for smarting up its tarnished image would be seen as a miracle and then there would be no doubt in the world that she was its Queen and all would be in awe of her.
"Too bad," she shrugged, still smiling, and then blew a kiss to the mirror.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia retired to her home on the one hundred and sixth floor at eight in the evening. Exhausted she changed into a robe and avoided eye contact with the stack of reports she would have to at least skim through before she went to sleep. Henderson had left a meal ready to be heated in the electric oven and she turned it and the timer on. In a champagne glass she poured some orange juice - if she wasn't allowed to have alcohol anymore she was damn still sure doing to drink from alcohol glasses! - and turned the small TV in the kitchen on to the cable news services.
The news of her take over of Sierra Leone had broken two days ago and the mass media had settled into the poor country, giving it a needed cash infusion, which also worked its way along to Genom's accounts as an amusing byproduct. The world was outraged and applauding at the same time. It had been a good choice to send Linna, her young face and true words appeased the social engineers who were now clambering for more third world involvement. Linna was still over there doing her job despite the added attention. She had to cope with the negatives; speeches from the UN and its Security Council members saying that it was illegal, governments shaking their heads. Financial and industry pundits calling her crazy. But they could do nothing but spout the hot air, because Sierra Leone had organized the deal and it was signed and approved by the respective leaderships. All that had to happen now was for it to work.
The timer buzzed and she removed the plate and sat down at the bench to eat, a refilled glass along side. Sylia missed the hard liquor but her doctor and Nigel had been adamant that she stop. Coming from Nigel that had been rich. She agreed because she was in poor health and worn out and didn't need to add any more strain on her body, which supposedly should be in the flower of youth still.
She ate in silence and eventually turned the news off. Some stocks were up, some were down. Analysts said this and that and all agreed that Genom was weak and doing some strange things. 'Even Chairman Quincy in his megalomania would not have bought a country to play with,' one Analyst joked. Sylia decided never to give an interview with CNNNN ever.
Worked called and alone, in her large full-floor open-plan apartment she responded to the siren call, wanting, just even for one night, someone to spend the darkness with.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto hurriedly walked over to his office's door then paused in front of it. He didn't want to appear in a hurry or expectant. It was not the mainly thing to do. After counting to ten, also to give time for his heart to slow down, he opened the door.
Candace breezed past him on unearthly legs, the wash of her perfume overriding his senses, just as her body overrode his self-control.
"This is nice," Candace said eyeing the office. Big chairs and a sofa. A bonsai near the wall below a large painting with a single Japanese character on it. Austere. It needed a woman's touch, and luckily she was here to give it one.
"Do you want anything to drink?" Itto asked and came up behind her. He reached out for her.
Candace walked to the window of the office. Outside the huge city gleamed with thousands of points of light. It was amazing. Itto's reflection joined her.
"Such a big city," she said, eyes looking down at him.
"Tokyo will be greater when we rebuilt it."
She smiled. Sure. She touched the glass. It was a little cooler than the room temperature. Smooth and hard at the same time. She wondered if anyone could see her this high up. There were other skyscrapers clustered in the central business district. Could one person with a pair of binoculars see her? Imagine that, having a kind of power over someone whom you couldn't see but was watching you, a voyeuristic thrill.
"Your idea with Slyia worked perfectly." Itto was behind her again, the back of his hand brushed over the back of her neck. She had tied her hair up in a bun.
"No business at this time of night Itto-sama," she said softly. "It gives me a headache."
"Ah yes. For French it is the opposite; pleasure before business."
A hand reached around her front to squeeze. "In France there is no business, just pleasure," and she undid her jacket and slipped it off her shoulders and cast it over a chair. She didn't want to get it creased. Two hands groped at her and he pressed up stiffly behind her.
"Good, good." Itto said. He leant forward and bit at her neck. He heard her moan softly. Her breasts were magnificent. No woman, especially not a western woman could reject his 'sales pitch'. They all clamoured to be with a powerful as himself. "Let's go to the bedroom." He started to bite at her ear.
"No, here first." Candace replied with a lick of her lips. She wanted to give any eyes watching from afar a good view. She leant up against the window, rear pressed out for him. His hands ran down her body with a hunger, down her skirt to the end and then started to lift it up, palms on her thighs like glue, raising it up above her hips to her waist. She heard his belt and zipper. "Itto-sama," she cooed and she felt him, and knew that he was in her power the moment he touched and she smiled, letting herself go, leeching his power into her, attaining the bliss and fire she required.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia tried not to look like she was staring down Candace's blouse but it was difficult when her PR Director leaned right over her desk and laid down the invitation to the Tokyo fundraiser.
"Thanks." She said and caught Candace staring at her with a grin. "You know, before I ran this, I owned a woman's dress store in Tokyo."
"Oh, I know all about that Ms. Stingray. Who doesn't know this rags to riches story." Candace said.
"Nice pun." Sylia smiled back. It was good to have another high-powered woman in the company, and an excellent dresser. "I would have had a few dresses that would have just been perfect for you."
"Really?" Candace supplied the fake enthusiasm. Only the Italians could give her any tips on dressing. Just. Syia dressed well, as far as Asian style went, which was years behind Europe. But she had a good figure to fill a suit out with and her hair made her striking. Like brushed silver. It was the only part of Sylia that Candace thought was superior to herself.
"But I had to give that up. Sometimes I wonder why. A lot less stressful." Or had it been?
Candace sat on the end of the table and leaned over. "How can you say that? Running a boutique is what the men of this world think women should be doing. Genom would be in charge of a man now, probably as part of a liquidation team if it weren't for you. It takes a lot of guts to get into this world and being successful at it sure does piss them off. That's worth it alone."
"Thanks Candace. I guess I need my moments of support."
Candace grinned and hopped of the table. She squeezed Sylia's shoulder just so and then let it run off softly as she started to walk away, saying: "Hope you have fun at the fundraiser."
"I'll try." Sylia called after. When Candace had left her office she put her hand on her shoulder, still feeling the touch. What had that been? She asked herself. Confusion alien to her, she put the ambiguous touch out of her mind and returned to work. But for the rest of the day she would find her hand on her shoulder.
/\/\ss/\/\
Nigel opened up the Grasshopper hardsuit while Leon looked on with folded arms. "You say it took a direct rocket hit?"
"That's right," Leon replied. "Damn fool flew himself into it."
"Still, it doesn't look like there's too much damage." Nigel poked around the interior of the suit.
"His men thought he was dead. Knocked out cold." Leon liked Nigel. He was a man. He drank, maybe a little too much, and did manly things. He also knew a lot about Sylia and the other Knight Sabres and the Grasshoppers.
"How'd the rest go?" Nigel asked.
"Good. Just some scratches. My team is really impressed."
"They ought to be." Nigel said with creationalist pride. The suits were his design. He'd modified the girl's hardsuits so they could take any user, didn't matter who, the user could change at any time. They were bigger than the hardsuits, about seven feet tall, a foot shorter than a CaseSuit, and not as wide or as blocky. The suit retained human style shape and had a box of a jetpack on its back and the arms had high-velocity machine guns in them. They were designed for ranged combat from the get go. Nigel had seen the girls get injured too many times when fighting in close with boomers that had little more mind than a crazed animal. Genom's threats were also going to be more likely armed, as Sierra Leone had proved.
"So, are they like the Knight Sabre's hardsuits?" Leon asked.
"They're bigger."
"I can see that. But, y'know, what makes them. go?"
Nigel stepped back from the open machine and stared at Leon. "Does it matter?"
Leon shrugged and felt the need to pick up a piece of metal lying about. "It might."
"They're safe."
"That doesn't make me glad to here. Most of my men are ADP. We risked our lives to fight boomers. We work here because it's out job to destroy any that go rogue, and it's easier to do when the builder lets you."
Nigel went back to work on the Grasshopper. "No one's forcing you to do anything Leon."
"Dammit. That's not what I'm saying. I agree with Sylia on these and the RRT. Control over boomers is better than fighting them with nothing. Its just."
"What?"
"I thought it was all over." Leon put the metal down. "And I could get back to a normal life."
"You still can."
"Is that your opinion?"
"I don't have an opinion, Leon. I'm informing you of one of your choices. I just do what I'm told."
Yeah, I've noticed, Leon didn't say aloud. Nigel didn't deserve that. "Well thanks anyway, for listening. Let me know when they're done." And he left.
Mackey entered the workshop from another entrance as Leon was leaving. "What was that about?" he asked.
"Men's stuff."
Nigel left it at that.
/\/\ss/\/\
The day ended like any other. Sylia returned to her apartment, did some work but decided to go to sleep early. She had unsettled dreams, tossing and turning beneath her sheets and she woke up in the middle of the night with a gasping cry. Her sheets were wet with her sweat and the smell of something else. Dazed, wondering what she had done and more importantly why she tried to remember her dream but could only recollect a few blurred images that made no sense. She had a shower and changed her sheets and managed to find sleep again for a few hours before the alarm went off to wake her.
/\/\ss/\/\
During the same night but in another city hours away by bullet train a warehouse was broken into and one of the containers stored within stolen. The warehouse wasn't due for any In or Out transfers until after the weekend and so the stolen container was not missed by the few Security personnel who only looked outwards with the aid of a few cheap boomers. It was these boomers that the intruders neutralized for the time they needed with a device that been developed by someone who had worked on the team that had designed that model of boomer.
In another part of the city, the ruined city, a lone figure walked through the broken streets and by the transmogrified buildings. Everyone else took the figure for another drifter or squatter seeking loot or somewhere free to live. Small groups of such circled around fires in petrol drums and only gave a cursory glance or an invitation to share the warmth of the blaze. The figure ignored them all, continuing into the heart of the city that was said to be haunted.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia gave a half a days work and then used a few hours to get herself ready for the fundraiser. She also needed enough time to get to Tokyo and to the convention hall that was a few kilometers out from the quarantine zone. The City Council wanted the guests to know that Tokyo had been devastated, but didn't want to get them close enough to show them. From cameras it was a total mess. But Sylia had been there when it had happened, when Galatea had unleashed the Dragon Line and taken over every building in central Tokyo. No camera could do justice to being there, feeling the agony of the city and the emptiness that would possess it now.
Her only contact with Itto was to inform him of the time he needed to be at the helipad for the flight by VTOL to Tokyo. The trip would take two hours and she hoped she didn't have to talk to the man for too long. Otherwise he might find himself falling out the plane and she in need of a new Head of Marketing, or S&M as Linna liked to call it. The girl had turned beet red when she had asked if she would have liked to be transferred there, to S&M. Teasing Linna each day brightened her mood a little. Maybe that's why I feel down, she's away and I don't have my dartboard. That's mean, Sylia Stingray. Linna is a good friend and supporter. You should be nicer to her.
By herself she had her face done and a manicure and then went in search for a dress. She thought of Candace and wondered how she would appear; likely in something simple yet eye catching, and eye keeping. It was good to have a PR spokesperson who drew all the attention to her and away from what she was saying. It made her own job a lot easier and was reducing the amount of bad press for Genom. Money well spent.
She ended up selecting a dark blue gown that looked night-black, with pearl ear-rings and necklace and matching purse.
/\/\ss/\/\
Dressed and ready she joined Itto at the helipad and they entered the Genom VTOL. Like the rest of Genom's airfleet, the VTOL was under a long term contract that had been signed before the disaster and so, paid for, could still be used. The craft were already proving useful.
The VTOL interior was luxurious, definitely a business model. Sylia and Itto took different sides of the plane. Sylia spoke early to get what she needed out of the way before the flight.
"Who else is going to be there?"
"Well everyone. But I guess you mean who is important for the tender. The most important are Mayor Hasegawa and his wife; she is very influential and a bit vain. Councilmen Ogori, Shikotsu and Nakajima will all be on the approval committee and have major parts of their districts in the quarantine zone."
"Are we expected bribe them?"
"I doubt we have the finances for that,"
"So we have to find out what they want and give them more."
"Exactly."
"I hate politics."
"I agree, commerce is much better."
They didn't speak for the remainder of the journey.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia made sure the pilot flew over the quarantine zone. Standing out amongst the rest of the buildings was the hideously transformed Totem Pole, the ADP building. The maw of the giant boomer head still remained. It was still. As was the whole area. There was no power. The buildings, windows broken, facades disfigured, were like skulls leering back at her. Her failure to stop Galatea before the mad sister had almost unleashed the plague on the rest of the world. But then, it hadn't been her that had stopped Galatea. It had been Priss.
Unlike Linna and Nene, Priss had not been found. Galatea had been destroyed and perhaps Priss as well, uncharacteristically sacrificing herself for the world she did not like. Or, just as the others had survived, maybe she had too and was someone on Earth, but had discarded them finally. While the others would have liked to have her back, Sylia only wanted to thank her for getting Mackey back.
They quarantine zone fell behind and they landed and were taken to the function in a limousine to arrive and be escorted inside past a curious crowd and a growing number of reporters and news vans. She heard someone call out her name as she hurried up the steps as rain started to fall.
The hall was large and floor layered with a thick red carpet. Hundreds were already present; guests and staff, all finely attired and clustered about benches of refreshment or sitting tables. A black tie band played at one end of the hall.
"I hope the fundraiser raises more than this cost." Sylia said.
"Well then, let us make ourselves known. No point dallying."
They found the Mayor surrounded by a large circle of followers and tender- seekers. The crowd parted a little to let them through except for one man. He stepped out to block their passage with an offered hand.
"My dear Itto, it has been a long time." The man said.
"Yagyu Kito, a long time indeed." Itto said for Sylia's benefit and shook Kito's hand.
"Still at Genom I hear?"
"Yes. You at Fuchikoma Construction?"
"Yes. Ah, and this must be your illustrious Chairwoman, Ms Sylia Stingray, daughter of the famed Doctor Stingray, or has she been married and is a Mrs?" Kito said with a smiling face but eyes that were like daggers.
"Still a Miss Mr. Yagyu. Little time for family running Japan's largest corporation." Sylia replied.
Itto smiled, he might not like Sylia much but he was a Genom loyalist to the core and wouldn't take any offense. "And we will be more than that again shortly."
"After the quarantine zone tender then?" Kito said.
"Aren't we all?" Itto sidestepped Kito and brought Sylia along with him to present the both of them to the Mayor of Tokyo. They both bowed politely.
"Ms. Stingray, you do look quite well. I hope the same for you company?" the Mayor said in formality.
Sylia knew that what she said in reply would strongly influence the Mayors decision and also what the rest of the Japanese business community thought of her and Genom. She knew that many regarded her as trying to use her Father's fame to win her own glory, a little girl trying to play the big game with men. She remembered what Candace had said to her about the glass ceiling.
"Genom improves daily, Sir. I expect to see us back at full capacity with new models in less than a year."
There were mummers of disbelief.
"And you want to know why gentlemen?" Itto stepped up, "Because Genom has the best products and the only products that can be trusted. Our new models will be the best yet in terms of quality and performance. Our competitors are still infants in boomer production and maintenance. Genom has the skills and experience and the record."
"Then why have you hired the entire ADP? Wasn't it their job to destroy boomers?" Kito snidely remarked.
"We take pride in our employees and our new Security Consultancy branch will allow all Genom customers to feel secure. In any case Yagyu, boomers are much more efficient at construction. They work all day and, unlike humans, have fewer accidents. I'm sorry about the dozen men that died in Hokkaido."
"That was the fault of a sub-contractor -" Kito spluttered.
"When you deal with Genom you deal with us and we take full responsibility." Sylia joined in. They'd just easily placed Genom ahead of Fuchikoma. She'd have to talk to Itto about his 'Security Consultancy' later. That was never part of her plan.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Tonight will not be full of industrial sabotage, I'll leave that to you in private." The Mayor said and the crowd gave the required laugh.
"We should mingle," Itto suggested.
Sylia nodded and when Itto stayed put that he meant for her to mingle while he schmoozed the Major and other councilmen. He probably wanted her to find the Mayors wife and treat her vanity. As if.
Instead she spied a waitered bench and saw that there were bottles of champagne and wine. The hunger woke in her stomach and unable to resist she threaded her way to the bench.
/\/\ss/\/\
Outside the raining was falling heavily. Two vans drove past the convention building and turned along side it into a side lane. A pair of policemen came out of the cover from the rain and ordered the vans to stop.
While one of the policemen lit a cigarette to stay warm the other walked up to the driver's side and motioned for the window to be rolled down which it was.
"This area's restricted, you will have to turn back."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," the driver said back. "I'm lost, I'm trying to reach the Ayami Hotel."
The policeman frowned, "That's on the other side of town,"
"Foolish me," said the driver and he shot the policeman in the face with a silenced pistol.
The other policeman heard a grunt and clatter as his compatriot fell. He ran around to see what had happened and was shot as well from the passenger side.
"Get the bodies in the van and then move into position."
/\/\ss/\/\
"Well, well. If it isn't the famous Sylia Stringray." A male voice said from next to Sylia. She turned and looked at the tall westerner with a press tag smiling at her. She read the tag.
"George Negus of CNNNN."
"Care for an interview?" George asked while receiving a glass of sparkling wine from a waiter.
"Sorry. I don't give interviews." Sylia took her own glass. The apprehension she self was incredible. It had been half a year since her last drink. The rising bubbles called out to her. Begged to travel down her throat. She didn't realize how long she'd been staring at it when George cleared his throat.
"Maybe you shouldn't drink that." He took hold of it above Sylia's hand.
"I'm fine." Sylia snapped and resisted.
"Careful, don't spill it over your dress." George let go. "It wouldn't do if people got hold of your problem."
Sylia looked at him in anger. "It's not a problem, and how dare you for threatening me."
George held us his hands. "I'm saying that as someone who has been there Ms. Stingray, not to use it against you. How long has it been?"
"Six months."
"That's a good effort. Don't let it go to waste. Now." he reached out to grab it again and jerked forward as someone bumped into him from behind. His fingers hit the top of the glass and it tipped.
The first drops were spilling before Sylia knew what had happened. She felt the drops hit her upper chest and saw the large wave heading towards her. Reflexes kicked in and she twisted to the side and the airborne liquid flew by to strike someone else.
"Sorry about that," George apologized and a waiter scurried to clean up the mess. "Better there than fogging your head," he said quietly to Sylia.
Sylia got a napkin and dabbed at the drops on her. "Excuse me, I'm going to clean my self up." She stalked off.
George mentally kicked himself. Way to go champ.
/\/\ss/\/\
The radio signals came in and all was ready. The signal was given.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia pushed the bathroom door forcefully and stomped into it. She found a spare mirror between the other women powdering their noses and saw gladly that her dress hadn't been stained. She wet the napkin and brushed it over her sticky skin.
Her emotions were conflicting. Relieved that she had not had any drink, angry that her chance had been spoilt. Her body had ached for the alcohol to work on her. One drink, just this one night, wouldn't be bad for her. No one would care, no one would tell. She'd be like everyone else and that was okay, wasn't it?
She dabbed her face with water and told herself to calm down. She had a role to play, an important one, that required all of her attention.
Straightening herself up she left the bathroom and ran into the damn reporter.
"Are you stalking me?" she yelled.
"No, I -" George backed up, "I just wanted to apologise. It isn't any of my business if you drink or not,"
"Got that right. Now let me through."
The building shook.
"What was that?" someone said.
Then the roof collapsed and dust and debris filled the air.
/\/\ss/\/\
From the solitude of the city the loner felt the disturbance. For days it had been drawn to the source of the weak signal and now it had manifested itself. Standing upright and looking out over the broken spires of Tokyo and the trunks of the Dragon Line, the loner scanned for the signal and found it. With darting steps the cloak about flew.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia coughed out the dust and plaster that had filled her mouth. Next to her George was doing the same. She pulled herself upright and looked around.
The hallway was full of floating dust and most of the roof had caved in. Concrete, wires and the floor above blocked the hall. The bathroom door creaked open and terrified looking women peeked outside. Through the door way she caught her reflection in a mirror. Her face was white with dust.
"So much for the dress," it was dirtied too.
George stood up beside her. "Nothing a wash wont do. Now, what do you think happened?"
Sylia hoped what her first thought was wasn't true. A metallic roar from beyond the rubble filled corridor destroyed that hope. "Rogue boomers." She said.
"What, you're kidding?" George said. "I thought that was all propaganda by anti-boomer activities like the fabled Knight Sabres."
"Oh, they're real all right." Another roar was heard. Some gunfire. "Stay in the bathroom and don't come out." Sylia ordered the women. They obeyed quickly.
"That's a good idea, we should join them and let the police handle this."
Sylia snorted. "If it is boomers, the police wont have a chance. I need to contact my company." She looked around for another way out. Her eyes settled upwards.
/\/\ss/\/\
Itto was hunkered down behind a bench against the wall with many just as frightened black suit wearing men and women in dresses. He watched as a pair of boomers, clearly Genom models, rampaged through the hall. Smoke was everywhere and so were bodies lying still on the ground. Some were policemen who had tried to shoot the boomers. The sound their bones made where hitting the ground were terrible.
"Someone call for help!"
"Someone call the Knight Sabres!"
/\/\ss/\/\
With all the reporters outside the news was on the air within minutes and broadcasts taken over. With no Genom media manipulation (waste of money, Sylia had cancelled the program), the services put the boomer rampage story on live on every channel and more channels began to converge on the site.
/\/\ss/\/\
"Holy shit, Leon, you gotta see this!" Haruga burst into Leon's office where he was writing up Sierra Leone.
"I'm kinda busy, Haruga."
"But it's a rogue boomer!"
"What!?" Leon shot out of his seat and followed Haruga to the lunchroom where the TV was. Sure enough, the reporter was claiming that a fundraising function had been attacked by rogue boomers that had already killed several policemen. The building was being surrounded. Noise of destruction could be heard from inside.
"What do we do?" Haruga asked.
Leon ground his teeth. "Wait for orders. It's not our mandate to go rushing off like the Knight Sabres would have." And they would have, without a hesitation. Leon expected a call to come down from Sylia at any moment authorizing his men into action to destroy the boomers. That was what they'd been created for, wasn't it?
"Where's it taking place?"
"Tokyo."
Of all the places, where else?
"That's hours away. We'd never get there in time."
"But shouldn't we at least get ready?" Haruga asked.
"Good idea." Leon said, looking back to his office, waiting for the phone to ring.
/\/\ss/\/\
Sylia held out her hand and pulled when George took it. He scrambled up the pile of rubble.
"What are we doing this for?" he asked.
"To find a phone. You don't have one?"
"No. I said that before. Phones were confiscated on the way in."
"What kind of reporter are you then if you can't sneak in a phone?" Sylia asked.
"A respectable one."
Sylia snorted and stood up when the floor of the level felt secure. She had torn her incredibly expensive dress above the knee and then ripped a slit up her thigh so she could run if she had to. She used a strip of the dress to tie back her hair. George was quite amazed at her transformation.
"You check that side, there has to be an office here."
"Okay."
They found storerooms and small meeting rooms with plugs for phones and network connections but they saw no phones. Sylia couldn't believe it. What kind of centre didn't have a phone?
"I think were over the hall." George said.
The thumps of the boomers caused the room to shudder.
"We'd better hurry."
They did and entered a new corridor. Thankfully the first room they checked had a phone. Sylia picked it up and quickly punched in the direct number for the Security Division. One RRT was always on base.
"Dammit, get through," she scowled.
"Is it dead?"
Sylia swore. "It's dead. We've got to get outside."
The floor groaned.
"Get out!" George yelled.
/\/\ss/\/\
The RRT prepped their gear in record time and then sat waiting around for orders. Leon was on the phone but no one knew where Sylia was and other directors said to leave it to the local authorities. 'Chief' Roland was on his way to Sierra Leone. His subordinate couldn't be reached. He punched the table.
"No word." Haruga asked when Leon reentered the lunchroom.
"None."
"Man. This can't be happening. Our first rogue boomer and no Sylia hasn't told us to go."
"Just like old times. Sitting on our hands."
"Too bad the Knight Sabres have gone into retirement," a trooper called Simmons said.
"Yeah." One was in Sierra Leone. The other probably on the computer or asleep. Another somewhere in the city. The last, no one knew where she was. Her loss he felt the most.
"So you saying that we need lady boss' command to go?" another trooper said.
"That's right Shihara. She can give us the green light. All the others have gone chicken on us." Haruga answered.
"Well, wouldn't that be hard? I mean, she's in there with the boomers."
"What!?" Leon and Haruga shouted.
Shihara cringed. "Hey, don't kill me. They just showed some footage of who had gone in and she was one of them."
Leon tried to not to run over and strangle the life out of Shihara, or to crush him in a hug. "Okay people. Suit up and rack up, we've got our green light."
Cheers filled the lunchroom.
/\/\ss/\/\
Using the small mirror from her purse, Sylia inched it out into the corridor from the room they had fled into. Dust and smoke obscured the view but then a solid ropy leg came into view, a second, and a third, and a forth. Sylia ducked back and tried not to make a sound. The boomer was well into the rogue stage by the look of its mutated body. That meant it was very dangerous and unpredictable.
On her hands and knees she crawled over to George who was looking the worse for wear. She held a finger up to her lips and he nodded. She noticed that the CNNNN press badge was missing.
The beast thumped closer to the door and stopped by it. Sylia swore to herself, the door was open. All the other doors would be shut or locked.
"Get read to run," she whispered to George. He swallowed.
The door was nuzzled open and the beast revealed.
"My god!" George exclaimed.
Damn! "Run!"
The beast leapt into the room and smashed the table between them. Splinters flew through the air. Sylia kicked open the door to the next room and sped through it with George close behind. The giant hound looking beast snarled and came after them in a lope. It smashed the doorframe as it passed through.
"Don't stop," Sylia yelled and hurdled a chair. She came to another door and yanked at the handle. It was locked. She swore. The beast entered the room and she ducked down behind a bench. She didn't know where George had gone. The boomer breathed noisily. She inched back the way she had come and got out the mirror again. When she reached the end of the bench she held the mirror and angled it around the corner.
She screamed.
The beast's face filled the mirror.
"Over here you bastard!" George shouted and threw whatever he could find at the back of the rogue boomer that was easily twice his size.
The boomer then did something incredibly strange, it picked up one of the hurled objects and threw it back. The force lodged it into the wall where George's head had been.
Sylia used the distraction to charge past the boomer but it was after her quickly. Her mind raced over the boomers behaviour. It wasn't acting like a rogue at all. It was acting purposefully. And it was after her. She ran as fast as she could in the confinement and jumped out of the room she had first hidden in, the beasts claw swiping and missing just. She crashed into the wall and tried to roll off it but the boomer leapt and its fore claws pushed her back into the wall. Its terrible face was inches from hers, snarling. The jaw started to open.
Then it stopped and Sylia became aware that she wasn't alone with the boomer and the other wasn't George. Slowly she turned her head and saw a dark shape standing down the corridor. The lights were mostly broken but she could tell that it was human. And.
The stranger had its arm held out and it began to walk to the boomer. The hand was gloved and the stranger's body cloaked, face his behind a wrap of black cloth.
The boomer jerked in tiny motions like ensnared and trying to find a way free without tearing itself apart. Hot red eyes darted between Sylia and the stranger. The stranger got closer and the boomer was forced backwards. With the other hand the stranger motioned for Sylia to go the way he had come. George slipped by the other side.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I don't know."
The struggle between the stranger and the boomer then ended and the boomer let out a great roar and leapt. It was fascinating to watch the beast rise with its jaw opening and metal teeth slid out into place. It was more fascinating to watch the cloaked stranger grab the beast by the throat and throw it to the floor and then punch a hand into the beast's belly. Green and orange fluid spurted out as the core was destroyed. The stranger stood, muck dripping from its hand.
"Who are you?" George asked.
Sylia felt that the stranger was looking at her and it made her uncomfortable. It brought back bad memories. Her Father. She shook her head and opened her eyes. The stranger was gone.
"I think its time to get out of here."
"Yes." Sylia agreed.
/\/\ss/\/\
A fire engine put up a ladder for them and they got on quickly. The centre was surrounded by police and other services. The media contingent was almost as large. Dozens of reports flocked over them then when they got down. She was instantly recognized as Sylia Stingray.
"Miss Stingray, what is wrong with Genom boomers? Are all the rumours of their danger true?"
"What has Genom been hiding? The public demands to know the truth!"
Sylia snatched the first phone she saw and quickly got Leon's status. He would arrive in another hour. She told the reporters to wait another hour and see what Genom was really about. She also found out that two more boomers were in the building. Scores of men and women had escaped the building but over two hundred were still trapped inside. Candace called on the phone.
"How did you get this number?" Sylia asked. It wasn't her phone.
"Leon gave it to me. Some blonde traced it." Nene, Syia thought and smiled. "Have you spoken to any reporters yet?"
"No."
"Good. Don't. We'll make a statement in the morning."
"Well, you better be watching what happens when the RRT gets here. That should help clean up our image. We've got all the hostages to rescue."
"Uh, I don't know if that's a good idea Sylia." Candace said.
"Don't worry. I have full confidence in my team."
Sylia put away the phone.
"What am I waiting or?" Geroge asked. He was wrapped in a towel and held one out to Sylia. She took it and put it about her shoulders. What she really needed was a pair of pants. She hoped the paparazzi weren't taking advantage of the situation.
/\/\ss/\/\
The stranger pulled the covering away from its face and enjoyed the cool air that ran over the skin. Standing on top of a building a block away from the convention centre, its attention was diverted to the approaching sound of a rotor and five small, subdued voices. Briefly anger welled but it was controlled at the aircraft passed overhead and hovered above the convention centre. Five large figures dropped out onto the roof. The stranger left.
/\/\ss/\/\
After bursts of gunfire the hostages started to stream out of the convention centre and policemen and medics rushed inside. As the trickle of rescued died down a big black shape filled the doorway and people started to scream and run.
Sylia recongised the Grasshopper and rushed up the steps. The visor flipped open.
"There you are," Leon said.
"It's over?" Sylia asked.
"Yes. Bagged a pair of boomers, but it was weird -"
"Because they didn't feel rogue?"
"Right. We had to destroy them both."
Sylia nodded. "Thanks for coming to get me. How does it feel?"
"To be on the other side for a change?" Leon grinned.
"Yeah." Sylia grinned back. Black sooty face and white teeth.
"Great."
"Make sure you recover the boomer's corpses. They're our property."
"Okay." And he returned into the centre.
George ran up to her ahead of the media crowd again. "Jesus, they were yours?"
She turned around, and freed her bound hair and shook it out. Despite her utter state of dishevlemement she looked a stunner. "No comment, and that's all your going to get tonight ladies and gentlemen."
"What do you think the headline should be Miss Stingray?" Goerge stepped closer to her, "Genom destroys boomers. Almost impossible to think isn't it?"
"I'll tell you later." She replied.
"Is that an confirmation of an interview?" he asked.
"It's a date," and she turned around and spotting Itto, heading in his direction.
George rubbed his face, wondering which way to take Sylia's last words. He shrugged, either way it would be a headline.