CHAPTER 2: THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD

Although walking was still a mite precarious for Iris, she managed to go all the way to the main exit of the lab with only a little help from Colonel. Her reflexes were rapidly attuning themselves to movement; in about a day her motor skills would be fully activated, and then she could move around with no problems at all, no-one the wiser that she had only been just created.

The sky was overcast that day, so when Dr. Thorne opened up the glass-paned double doors, Iris's optical nerves adjusted to the extra light without any problems; the lack of sun glare allowed her a full view of the city: Neo Tokyo, the largest metropolis in Japan, and the third largest in the world.

Every building was made almost entirely out of metal, every rivet and sheet polished to mirror sheen; the reflections of the sky cast everything under a smoky pallor: gray buildings, gray sidewalks--even the leaves on trees and people's faces were tinged with gray. Neon signs and billboards screamed out messages in several languages--English or Russian tourists almost felt at home--and electricity-powered cars filled the streets in tightly knotted lines.

And the people! Iris could hardly believe what she was seeing: thousands upon thousands of people in this small section of the metro alone, speed walking along in huge masses. Black, white, Asian, Hispanic, and everything in between mingled together, hair almost any color you could think of, with clothes ranging from conservative business attire to downright indecent.

They swept briskly by, never giving her, nor Colonel, nor Dr. Thorne a glance; their hushed mumblings almost drowned out the sounds of other traffic. Some were talking on tiny cell phones; others had their noses buried in some kind of reading material or another, somehow keeping pace with the rest; others chatted in small groups.

And leaning against the buildings were ragged, grim-faced people holding cups or other makeshift containers out to the passers-by. Every five seconds or so, a paper bag or a wrapper or an empty box would be tossed out; if the cars did crunch down on the trash, then the wind would pick it up and blow it down the street until it vanished.

All the sights, sounds, smells, and sensations around her was simply too much for Iris. She put her hands up to her ears and stared down at her feet, rocking back and forth, working her jaw and humming to drown out all the sounds ringing in her ears.

She felt a heavy weight on her shoulder: a large hand gently cupped itself around her, and Colonel drew her close to him. Iris buried her head into his chest and clung to him as if there were no tomorrow.

"Don't be scared," he said to her. "It's just a case of sensory overload. I had it when I was first created. You'll get used to everything. We are going home right now--it's all right."

Iris slowly disengaged her death-grip and nodded dumbly, shaking slightly, but showed no fear otherwise.

"Are you all right?" Dr. Thorne stepped up quickly and peered anxiously over his newest creation. "Is it sensory overload?"

"Yes, Sir. Remember the time when I had it?" Colonel assured his creator, giving Iris a small push on the back to get her moving.

"Ah!" Thorne chuckled softly, falling in beside his two reploids. "Now, that was an unpleasant experience for all concerned. It wasn't funny at the time, but now that I think about it..."

As her brother and creator became engrossed in their conversation, a conversation full of foreign dates and people that were only words to her, Iris became rather bored. She obviously couldn't partake in the talk, and just looking down at the ground didn't afford the prettiest of views. Her eyes scanned languidly over the sidewalk several times, seeing people's shoes and not much else, but she dared not look up again.

A bright flash of color underneath her feet made her stop; she bent down and saw it was a large advertisement that had fallen out of a newspaper, or something like that. She knew what an ad was, of course--she had dictionaries of information stored in her brain--but, except for the loud billboards, and she had been so confused that she had briefly forgotten what they were, she had never seen one before.

Her eyes scanned over the print, quickly digesting what it had to say, but before she finished reading the ground suddenly rushed up to meet her as she felt a heavy blow from behind.

She cracked her forehead against the pavement as she tumbled head over heels; something smashed into her, tangling up her flailing limbs. A loud, angry voice sounded near her ear.

"Heeey! Watch it, ya dumb 'roid!"

Iris struggled to get up onto her knees, and when she finally did she looked up into the face of a middle-aged man dressed in a sharp business suit, his gray-streaked hair forming a neat ring around a glaring bald spot. He was frowning and had his arms crossed impatiently.

"Well?"

Iris opened her mouth to speak and ask what he wanted, but it was then she found out something about herself: whenever she was embarrassed or feeling very shy, as she was now, she couldn't utter a word. Her vocal circuits simply froze up. Her mouth opened and clamped shut like a fish's, making no sound--to be frank, she looked quite stupid. A hot sensation flashed through her chest, and she felt infinitely sorry that she had tripped the man and caused him so much trouble.

"God! Are you stupid or something? You're on my hat, 'roid!"

Iris didn't know what that term he kept on calling her meant--the word had not been programmed into her extensive vocabulary--but her brother certainly did. Colonel and the good doctor finally noticed that the newest addition to the family was missing, and so they doubled back to find her. They had just reached her when the businessman had yelled at her about his hat.

"Sir!" Colonel spoke up harshly, helping Iris up to her feet and grabbing at the hat. "I suggest that you not speak of my sister in such a despicable manner!! She has just been created and is still very disoriented. You needn't make such a boor of yourself over a hat." He thrust the crumpled headpiece at the human, who snatched it away and put it back on with a defiant expression on his face, but walked away without a word.

"Colonel, my boy," Dr. Thorne blew out a ragged breath, "you came close to crossing the line there. Talking back in such a manner..."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I have no regrets. Talking to a scared and confused girl like that is inexcusable! And all because of a simple accident! I certainly meant no harm, though, and perhaps I should have not used such a tone of voice," Colonel responded, pulling his sister close to him; Iris resumed her death-grip on him, her face drawn and scared with a small patch of white where her skin had been scraped from the fall.

"Iris. You could have at least apologized to the man," Dr. Thorne said, casting her a grave look.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I tried to speak, I really did. I just...I just couldn't..." Iris began, but all her tangled emotions and her hurt made her feel sick and dizzy, and she couldn't continue.

Dr. Thorne looked at her askance, but his face softened and he reached over and straightened her crumpled beret.

"It's all right. You must be really taking all these sights and sounds and changes very hard. Come, we'll get a cab and ride the rest of the way back home."

Dr. Thorne did as promised and quickly hailed a cab; the three piled in, Colonel having to stoop nearly halfway to fit.

"Brother, what does the word ''roid' mean?" Iris asked, looking up into his face, which darkened.

"It is a derogatory term," he said after a long pause, "for reploids. He shouldn't have used it. No human should use it. It's like if you called a human a 'fleshy'. Of course, you wouldn't have gotten away with it like that human did."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it," Colonel amended hastily. "I was just talking to myself. Forget it."

Iris let the conversation drop there--although she may not have had the sense not to block pedestrian traffic in the middle of a busy street, she at least knew when to keep her mouth shut.

*************

Presently, the cab pulled up and stopped; Colonel and Iris got out as Dr. Thorne paid the fare. Iris looked around at her new environment.

They had left the business district of Neo Tokyo and now were in the residential suburbs.

The place was very pleasant; green trees were planted in well-kept lawns; the streets were virtually free of clutter and litter; the houses were beautiful, and, from the looks of it, very expensive. They were obviously in the upper-crust section.

Iris turned and looked at the house the cab had parked in front of: it was a very pretty thing as well, a good-sized Victorian with two stories and neat green trim on perfect white. It had a large porch with a big swing; the lawn was spacious and shaded by maple trees imported from America. Brick walls surrounded the place, marking its boundaries, and a large pair of iron gates loomed in front of her.

After getting her fill of the scene, Iris absently looked up at the sky, and then got quite a shock: soaring around up there, performing the neatest barrel-rolls, loop-the-loops, and other such aerial acrobatics as gracefully as you please, was a white figure that definitely was not a bird. She couldn't tell exactly what it was, though--the creature was too high up for her to get a good look at it.

She didn't have much time to speculate, either; the white shape suddenly halted in flight and then silently started heading in her direction at a fantastic speed. Iris gave out a little cry and scurried back, but Colonel intercepted her and squeezed her shoulders.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "It's only one of the Repliforce's men. I know him. He's probably just coming down for a talk."

As the shape came closer and closer, Iris saw that, although it was humanoid, the creature had the head of a stallion and a glorious pair of spreading wings. It wore the livery of the Repliforce: neat black pants, crisp white shirt with gold buttons, and two golden shoulder decorations with fringe. It was a reploid pegasus.

"Good day, Sir!" the reploid pegasus half-spoke, half-whinnied his greeting as he made a perfect landing, saluting smartly.

"Good day, Spiral," Colonel reciprocated the salute, his face calm but his eyes and mouth stern. "I hope that you weren't performing such antics on your patrol duty."

"Aw, Colonel, Sir, patrolling the city is boring!" Spiral shook his head from side to side in exasperation, but he at least had the good sense not to snort. "There hasn't been a trace of Mavericks ever since the Repliforce was created."

"Spiral! At attention, soldier." Colonel snapped, making both Iris and Spiral Pegasus cringe; although he never raised his voice a decibel, he had a way of speaking that gave the impression that he was shouting. It was quite unnerving, and was even worse than yelling.

"My apologies, Sir. I meant no disrespect," Spiral said very softly, inclining his graceful head.

"This flippancy of yours is going to get you into trouble someday, Spiral," Colonel admonished in a lighter tone. "A cocky fighter is no good in battle."

"Oh, please, Sir," Spiral squawked, shaking his wings impatiently. "It was just a little fun. I wasn't hurting anything."

"Come on, my boy," Thorne interrupted, placing a hand on Colonel's shoulder, "It's nothing. Let it drop. But don't you let me or Colonel catch you doing that again, Spiral. My workers spent too much time on you to let you crash in the middle of the street."

"Oh, Dr. Thorne! How do you do, Sir? I didn't notice you," Spiral snapped to attention again, saluting; after the two had exchanged formalities, the pegasus finally saw Iris behind her brother's massive body.

"And who's this?" he wickered curiously, sniffing in her direction; his mannerisms were so comical to Iris that her paralyzing shyness was forgotten.

"I'm Iris," she responded instantly, smiling.

"She's my sister. She was just created today," Colonel added, jostling her shoulders lightly.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am," Spiral chirruped; he came forth and knelt down on one knee, taking one of her hands and touching his muzzle to it. Iris giggled rather stupidly, but she couldn't help it--his breath tickled her palm.

"What do you do in the Repliforce? Are you under my brother's command?" she asked when he had gotten to his feet.

"Technically, yeah...in the broad scheme of things, Colonel's my commander, second only to the General. But I actually work for the Repliforce Air Brigade--Storm Owl's unit. I'm the scout and patrolman," Spiral elucidated. He suddenly turned around so that she could get a good look at his metallic wings. They were made of almost paper-thin yet very durable sheets of metal hammered into the shapes of all types of wing feathers. The tips trembled slightly with a soft rattle in the breeze. Near where the wings were attached to his back were long, thin apparatuses very much like the wing-engines of a jet; it was truly an impressive sight, and Iris couldn't help but let out a sigh of admiration.

"These babies are the latest in design; I can go from zero to two hundred in thirty seconds flat and I can adjust them internally so I can change altitude or decelerate my speed when I need to. My wings are mainly for steering and gliding--ain't they grand?" He turned his graceful neck over his shoulder and gave her a knowing wink, which somehow made her blush.

"Spiral, don't start with that again. For one, I would be eternally joyful if you could just fly in a straight course for more than thirty seconds," Colonel said dryly, but the only response he received was another high-pitched whinny of laughter from his unabashed underling.

"Aw, come on, Sir! What's the point of flying if you can't enjoy it?" On the word 'enjoy' the reploid pegasus had ignited his little jet-engines and shot a few feet over Colonel's head, prancing around with abandon.

"Say, I hear that you and Zero are gonna duke it out this weekend, Sir," Spiral continued, cocking his head down at his superior. "And I say that kicks all else. That cherry-red hippie doesn't have a prayer. No Hunter can compare with you." The pegasus then turned his gaze to Iris. "I bet you didn't know that your brother is the best saber duelist in all of Neo Tokyo--and the world, for that matter. It's true! Your brother is a bona fide bad-a..er, boy."

For a few seconds, Iris didn't respond; what did one say to that? Once again, she felt confused and disoriented. Was being skillful at handling a saber supposed to be something to be proud of? Well, Spiral's tone certainly supported that opinion. So, after a few seconds of trying to regain her emotional bearings, the petite reploid felt a glowing sense of pride well up within her; she took one of Colonel's arms in hers and gave it a proud squeeze, beaming up at him.

"Spiral," Colonel admonished in a tone that was not overly stern; he seemed slightly embarrassed--for although he was not humble, he was no braggart either. "Please, stop while there's still a modicum of civility in this conversation. I am dueling with Zero, but only for practice...we both wanted it. He's a fine warrior and a worthy opponent..."

"He's an arrogant snot," Spiral snorted, not even realizing in his indignation that he had interrupted his own superior, "and frankly, Sir, that's really cleaning it up because there's a lady present. I, for one, wouldn't mind seeing you trashing his sorry butt. The guy needs to be taken down several hundred notches."

"Spiral," Dr. Thorne spoke up before the ruffled pegasus could really get heated up, "how many times do I have to remind you that the Repliforce and the Hunters aren't enemies? You two are supposed to help each other, not throw insults..."

"Please! Stop! Desist! You don't know how many times I've heard this speech before. 'The Repliforce and Hunters are FRIENDS, Spiral! Why don't you forget the fact that they're all a bunch of haughty morons led by a senile old sot and kiss their asses right now?'" Spiral thrust out one hand and clapped the other one over his ears.

"Spiral!!" Thorne snapped, his old eyes growing irritated. "Dr. Cain just happens to be a friend of mine. He may have his faults, but he's a decent man. Please don't insult someone you don't know."

"Sorry, Sir. I didn't mean it, really," Spiral bowed his head meekly but Iris thought she could see the hint of a smirk on his muzzle. "Dr. Cain's all right, I suppose. I don't have any quarrel with him. And I guess the other Hunters are okay as well...it's ZERO I can't stand. I never liked him, never will."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," Iris spoke up softly, giving the other three something of a start. "Don't the Hunters and Repliforce get along?" Try and scan her data banks as she might, she couldn't find any information of a feud between the two factions, and Spiral's attitude puzzled her.

"Oh, right...you were just created! Sorry to confuse you. Now, try as these two might," Spiral waved a hand at Colonel and Dr. Thorne, who scowled deeply, "there's...er...how to put this nicely...um...some...friction between Repliforce and the Maverick Hunters. It's not an all-out feud per se because no-one's been killed or anything, but it's coming darn close. We insult and play pranks on each other all the time, and maybe bash a few noses and break some arms occasionally--or at least the common soldiers do. The officers wouldn't get away with it. But it's a whole lot of fun. Too bad you can't join in, being the sister of the second-in-command."

"Well, what started the...um, friction in the first place?" Iris pressed. Spiral cocked his ears at a strange angle and gave her a somewhat nonplused look.

"Darned if I can remember," he admitted. "It's just the way it's been. I guess that a person from Repliforce and one from the Hunters got into an argument or something, they got into a fight, their friends joined in, and it's been bad blood between us ever since. Or maybe it's because the Hunters are a bunch of arrogant, crude idiots. They never liked the fact that we were created to support them in battle--they were too gooood for us. God forbid that they get help." His nostrils were flaring and distended now, and he gave the loudest snort Iris had ever heard--which may not have been saying much, but it really was loud. "Man, I can't even think about it without wanting to kill something. I better go fly...it'll keep me from going ballistic."

"Please do," Colonel snapped, looking rather disgruntled. "Spiral, you're a good man, but sometimes you push me so far! You need discipline outside the Repliforce barracks and in battle as well. You'll never make a good Repliforce representative."

"Fine with me!" Spiral shook his head from side to side, "I'll be damned if I ever become a diplomat--too boring."

Colonel's face went bright red, but he managed to keep his voice in check. "Spiral, please go...now! And next time, watch your language in front of the lady!"

"Beg your pardon, ma'am," Spiral bowed his head to the gaping Iris, and he did look rather abashed.

Although she had been quite shocked to hear a Repliforce soldier curse, Iris couldn't help but forgive the spunky pegasus. "Oh, it's all right, it's all right," she mumbled, flushing--she felt bad to be the cause of such trouble for him.

"Well, good-bye Dr. Thorne, Colonel, Iris...I'm off! Take care!" Spiral chirruped and then put his engines at full thrust.

As the trio watched the retreating white blur, Iris gave out a small little laugh.

"I like him. He's nice," she commented idly.

"Oh, don't be taking his side," her brother sighed, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her up to the gates of the Thorne abode.

"Now, you two, don't start. We've had enough quarrels today as it is. How are you feeling, Iris? It's been an exciting day for you," Dr. Thorne said, casting a glance at his newest creation.

"I'm a bit tired," Iris said, not actually realizing how she was feeling until that moment.

"Well, I've got your room prepared, and a nice bed for you. Come along. Your brother and I are going to have some supper, but new reploids shouldn't eat much until their systems have been totally adjusted."

Dr. Thorne opened up the gates by pushing a combination on a small keypad located near the lock, and the little family walked up the cobblestone pathway and into the house, closing the door firmly behind them.

Iris was home.

*************

For about two weeks, Iris did not venture out the front gates of the Thorne residence--she had to get used to the world around her first, and needed to learn some social skills.

Her main teacher in those first confusing, difficult weeks was her brother. He had applied to the Repliforce bureaucracy for three weeks of leave to take care of his new sister, and it had been granted, mostly because the administrators knew Colonel was not one to take leave without good reasons, and the fact that his creator was one of the human leaders of the faction. So, the sight of Colonel and Iris sitting on the big porch swing, simply talking, talking, talking, was not an uncommon one.

He taught her many things: how she was supposed to react to certain situations, how to behave in public, and what she had been designed for. He gave her books to read; he brought her out into the front yard and helped her identify various plants and animals; in short, he showed her how to perform skills already programmed within her. Once someone had drawn the skill out of her, then Iris never forgot it. She could clean, cook, work a computer like nothing else, she could fix just about anything around the house--all because her brother had showed her first.

As for her creator, that was a bit different. Dr. Thorne always treated Iris very kindly, to be sure, and sometimes he would help Colonel in getting Iris to reach her full potential, but there was simply something lacking. He didn't have the enthusiasm, the desire, the warmth that Colonel had.

It wasn't that Dr. Thorne didn't want to help his creation; he truly wanted her to live a full, satisfied life, as it was his duty as her creator. You just did not create something and then throw it out to fend for itself--she and her brother were the closest to family he had. But there were a few hitches that limited his involvement in Iris's development.

First, Dr. Thorne did not have the liberty to take off time as Colonel had; the aging man was a very vital part of the Repliforce bureaucracy, and many decisions were placed on his thin shoulders. Furthermore, all this responsibility did tax the doctor a good deal; when he returned home after a long day's work, he did not have much energy to spend on Iris.

But, also, there was something in Thorne's attitude that made him unthinkingly hold back his support and wisdom: secretly, down in the very core of his heart, he was a bit disappointed in how Iris had turned out.

It wasn't horrible disappointment--the good doctor wasn't crushed or made bitter by it. Rather, it made him somewhat sad. For, despite Colonel's support and teaching, Iris's social skills weren't coming along very well. She was just too shy, too reserved. And furthermore, she seemed to hold no interest in serving the Repliforce. She lacked the devotion her brother held, and this fact made Thorne depressed and wonder if he should have put in the variable CPU at all--he had never expected that it would give her such a painfully shy personality.

After the two weeks were over, though, Dr. Thorne's hopes were raised a little: Iris was as ready as she ever would be to go out into the working world now, and Colonel was going to take her out to Repliforce H.Q. to sign up for a post. She would be filling her place at last.