The Cinnamon Horizon
by Elliot Bowers
...
Chapter 4: Visits from Dark Winds
...
_____It was late afternoon in the city. Humans and cyborgs, still in the clothes they wore at work,
were walking along the sidewalks, everything darkened by the long shadows of the buildings around
here. Heavy vehicles filled the road, transporting locally manufactured goods along the roads. Because
this sector of the city was independent--not ruled by that damned Network--the sector had to be its
own self-contained economy. Everything had to be done in this sector--from basic food synthesis to
food manufacturing to waste recycling. Everything... So the roads were bound to be full of trucks and
other heavy vehicles, carrying goods and raw materials that could not be transported through pipes.
...
_____Around this traffic-heavy time, Sera had finished another session of kickboxing instruction with
that dark-haired girl. "Goodbye now!" shouted Lissette, smiling and waving to the young female
cyborg leaving the gym entrance. "And try to relax! You're doing great! Ha-ha...!"
_____Sera waved and smiled back, then began her walk back to her new apartment...thinking of
Lissette. During the lessons, the amateur kickboxer demanded prolonged effort of Sera, but she made
the time and effort really worth it. And she taught things in a really casual way--as if they have been friends
forever. There was a pleasant and happy feeling around being with that bright and energetic girl. There was
something wonderful about being around Lissette that made everything seem okay. Maybe it was the
way her big dark eyes sparkled when she spoke, or the way she smiled so easily and often.
_____The girl was a new friend. Sera had someone new to confide in now... It could not make up
for the way Sera's family had been taken from her: Hell no. But it was something to hold onto in her
new life. It was something that was good and right.
_____But, everything could only be made right when those three cannibal bastards were dead, dead
and dead. She knew who THEY were; she had seen them around--and would see them again.
Oh yes... When she was strong enough, she would kill them... Not yet, though. That was all
part of her long-term plan. And things would be made right in time. With friends like Mr. Yin and
Lissette, things were going to be okay. Furthermore, not that Sera knew it at the time, but she also
had other friends.
...
_____Meanwhile, high above the city streets, someone reclined in a dark office--an office high up in
one of the three tallest buildings of the city. The floor and walls were of dark marble, with soft white
lighting from the ceiling gleaming off of the clean surfaces. Framed photographs from various parts
of the city were set on the walls. The far wall was actually made of reinforced glass, shuttered with
steel slats of metal: thick blinds. When opened, the blinds would give a wide view of the urban
skyline off in the distance.
_____In the middle of this elegant office was a desk of dark wood, REAL wood, behind which sat a woman
more elegant and austere than the modest furnishings that decorated this place. An elegant and
beautiful woman, slender and golden-skinned. Today, she was dressed in a white silk dress-suit,
her dark hair pinned up. Her name was Patsun--Miss Patsun, to those below her.
_____She slowly leaned forward. Using her right hand, she slowly turned up the gold-plated
knob that controlled the lighting directly over her desk. On the desk itself, besides the computer
terminal, there was a typed letter from Mr. Yin. Though she had read it several times before, she
read it yet again.
_____It was about that "special case" that she had come to hear about--a case of hardship.
Sure, everyone had troubles these days. Everyone alive had to try and keep moving on. And
despite the efforts of the Feng Long Society to keep the liberated citizens happy and satisfied,
problems of violence and suffering still remained. Since the Society would not resort to something
so brutal and harsh as hiring cyborg bounty hunters--like the Network--they had to use a system
of hired enforcers: street-toughs on a regular wage, paid to make sure people were not doing
harmful and dark things to each other.
_____But the enforcers could not stop everything. And, sometimes, the enforcers themselves
became the problem. They WERE thugs, after all. The majority of them did their part and
enforced the will of the Feng-Long society in keeping the city's citizens relatively safe. Not
all of the enforcers could be trusted. And that was true for the case of three who had gone rogue.
_____For some time now, it had been suspected by other enforcers that those three were to blame
for certain acts of murder and cannibalism. It was somewhat difficult to get enforcers to report
each others' activities, and this wasn't confirmed until recently. And when those three had
destroyed the life of a highly valued employee, they had done too much. The random murdering
of some citizens would be one thing; harming the life of a highly valued employee was another thing.
_____Patsun's dark eyes narrowed. Of course, the three enforcers were readily identified. For
several weeks now, those three had done too much. She hesitated at calling cyborgs "monsters,"
but in this case... It was true. Three cyborgs had simply become monsters. Periods of misbehavior
could be tolerated by the Society--but only so far. And when that tolerance was passed...
_____The elegant, golden-skinned woman laid back in her dark seat. Hmm... Yes... Something
would have to be done about those three. Of course, one of their latest victims was preparing to
seek revenge herself--having made herself into a sleek cyborg for just that. Though Mr. Yin was
there to help the young new cyborg in her vengeance, more could be done to help the process along.
This was going to be business.
_____It would be easy and simple to just have those three crazy shitheads hunted down and shot
to death: shot up with the newly developed ceramic bullets manufactured locally. That would be
too easy and too merciful. Patsun was not in the mood for mercy in this case. Those three
troublemakers would have to see their deaths coming from a distance. And when it was time for
them to die, they would know why.
_____That beautiful and elegant woman smiled, but it was not a pleasant one. There was
something dark in that smile on her face--a smile as dark as the thoughts behind it. Hmm…
_____She took something out of one of her desk drawers--a drawer lined with red velvet.
Something was in the drawer, set upon a small pillow. She carefully took the object off of the
small pillow, taking it out of the drawer. And she set atop her desk... It looked like a simple
gray radio. Worse yet, it looked as if the thing was too many years old: Its case was chipped
in places, the on switch was replaced with a wadded piece of tape, and the little metal antenna
was snapped off. But there was more to this radio than just its actual parts.
_____As she leaned back, her mind went to the radio. Her sleepy mind drifted. With that
dark weirdness that dreams tended to bring on, she found her mind somehow floating into the
decrepit little radio, then her thoughts swirled as dark as the oncoming city night. The sun
was just setting outside the grand windows. She heard distant screams and had glimpses of
horrible faces in the breeze--a nightmare coming! But she did not try to wake herself. There
was no turning back from the sleep. The woman was being pulled down into a dark dream,
into the radio and beyond...
...
_____There were sidewalk restaurants and cafes close to this tall office building. As it was after
the end of the business day, plenty of people--humans and cyborgs still in work clothes--were out
and around. Those eating at the outdoor seats felt that strange wind that just blew between the
buildings and through the streets... What an odd wind. It made some people shudder, though it
was quite a warm day. And some people began to feel a little sick. Pollution? No, something
else was happening.
...
_____Patsun found herself in that other place--that place found through darkened shadows of
the night and darker dreams. There were sounds all around in the darkness and the gloom. It
was hard to tell, but one would get the idea that there were plenty of others around here. There
were other people here, whispering and chittering in the darkness.
_____Then came a blast of spotlight. In the light, the Dream Woman stood upon a round
wooden table. The slender woman had on the same kind of sleeveless silken gown, and her
skin was still as pale-white as her long hair. But her gown was not as pure white as it usually
was... This time, had a slightly more pink tone to it. Her red eyes glinted maliciously, and then
she spoke.
_____"Ha-ha-ha...! HIS fellow workers will be made very busy within the next six-by-thirty days,"
she said. "As you stand and think, HE and THEY are already working! Taking servings of oatmeal
from broken bowls and carrying them through the breeze!"
_____What the Hell? Patsun was vaguely confused about this. But this was another place, and
she didn't think much of it. Regardless of how darkly odd the Dream Woman's speech was, Patsun
just accepted it. Under any other circumstances, this situation would have been simply crazy: nuts.
A glowingly beautiful woman with strange red eyes, standing atop a wooden table, talking insanely.
But this was just the way dreams went: She just accepted things, regardless of how damnably
weird they were.
_____So there was really nothing to say about how The Janitor suddenly appeared in a swirl of
white mist that poured into the spotlight from the darkness. And appear he did, coming into focus
as the white mist dissipated.
_____There he stood in his outfit of blue coveralls and work-clothes--his wooden-handled broom
carried on his right shoulder. The bill of his blue cap shadowed most of his swarthy face, hiding his
expression. He now lifted his broom from his right shoulder, clutched it in his hand and raised it up.
_____And the Dream Woman laughed again. "Ha-ha-ha! Because, after the wind continues to
blow, there will be almost no bowls unbroken. Watch and see as only The Janitor and his like...will
be...victorious! They always are!" She then snapped her fingers and pointed in Patsun's direction
with both hands.
_____As if the push-broom was a spear, the Janitor lowered it and began walking towards Patsun.
Patsun did not run. Where could she? She had the idea that she was surrounded by people in
the darkness--people she could not see. Besides, she did not want to run. She could not run and
was taken away...
...
_____...There was the sound of static. CRACKLE-CRASH! HIS-S-S... She sat up! Blinking
and dizzy, the businesswoman looked at the beat-up little radio atop her clean and sleek desk--set
next to the screen of her computer terminal. The little old radio was making plenty of noise.
As she stared at it, the noise died down and began to fade. Then it went completely silent. So broken
up inside, the cracked little thing should not make any noise at all.
_____Squinting, she turned the gold-plated knob at the side of her desk that turned up the lights in
this office. Then, very carefully, she picked up the radio and looked at its various sides. There were
no new cracks or chips in the plastic case, and it felt very cold. As if the device were put into
a freezer, next to a fan.
_____But it always became cold after she used it. The little radio worked just fine--at least,
the way Patsun was able to use it. It was very dear to her. She sometimes had a nasty
image of a metal hand crushing the small little electronic device, someone destroying the little
radio.
_____No, she had to keep the radio. She had the idea that her employees wondered why she kept
the old, beat-up thing in a velvet-lined drawer--a drawer that automatically locked whenever she
left her office. It was because the little radio was able to get her certain valuable information that
she found very helpful.
_____This latest information was very disturbing. She had never heard HER, the Dream Woman,
talk that way before. And her gown tended to change trouble when changes were happening.
Good or evil, it was hard to tell what the color changes meant. But it could not be good. When it
came to surprises, not much good came out of these days.
...
2.
...
_____Sera awoke early that morning--very early. It was still about two hours before sunrise, but
there was no sleeping for her--especially after a dream like THAT. It was just such a dark dream,
so heavy with sad feelings and very important. But HOW it was, she was not sure. She just had these
feelings of things not being right...
_____Sighing, she pushed aside the bedcovers and got out of bed--standing in her dimly lit bedroom.
The still-new carpet padded her solid metal feet. Looking back at her bed in the glow of the night-light,
she saw that her sheets looked barely touched--as if she really wasn't in bed most of the night. Normally,
she'd ruin whatever bed she slept in--especially after nights out with clients: with her previous self, she
slept mornings away before going in to speak with her boss. But nowadays, things were different. And
they would always be different...for the rest of her life.
_____Like this new apartment, she could never go back to her original one--which was burned and
ruined. This apartment was still so new to Sera that she felt a bit uncomfortable walking around here.
It was barely lived in: Beyond the furniture, it looked as if no one really lived here.
_____She stepped in front of the dresser drawer--full of new clothes. Clothes? She felt silly, since
being a cyborg meant that she really had nothing to hide. Why did she put on a sleeping gown? It
still felt like she was wearing some kind of tight-fitting armor over a flesh body, and wearing a night-gown
over armor was silly.
_____Hmm... She had noticed that most all of the cyborgs in town wore clothes. Maybe, after a
while, she would really feel as if her electromechanical body was hers and had to cover it. But not now.
Her body still didn't feel like...herself.
_____What if she didn't wear clothes? A "naked" metal body only resembled armor. Bare curves of
metal, nothing obscene. Sure, she had the physical proportions and shape of her human body, but
that was it. She was, physically, a machine. Beyond a living brain, all of her was artificial. And unless
someone recovered the technology for making entire bodies of synthetic flesh--instead of just faces...
No!
_____Don't hope for what could ever be! She stepped over to the simple wall mirror, looking at
herself in the dim gloom--the light coming from dim pink night-light attached to the wall. Her artificial
eyesight compensated somewhat, though it made her see everything in a somewhat less colorful tone.
But she could see herself in the mirror. She saw her metal-bodied self: long red hair framing her face,
her body being armored gray from the neck down. Her human body may have been loved and
desired, but it was such a weak one. The flesh is weak.
_____She clenched her fists and raised them as so she could see them directly--the gray fingers, the
metal joints. These were like articulate gauntlets, these hands. Reinforced round studs of metal were
fitted over her finely crafted finger-joints and sharp knuckles. Lowering her fists, her eyes again went
to the mirror--still trying to fully realize that this was her.
_____KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK... Her face whipped to the left, her eyes focusing on the white
door of this bedroom. The knocking was really at the front door, echoing through the front room of
the apartment. Six more knocks echoed.
_____She opened the bedroom door and stepped into the simply furnished front room. Likely, whoever
was at the door at this awful hour meant business. If they were dangerous, they could have just
knocked it down. So she was quick to get over to the door and opened it.
_____The hallway outside of the apartment was brightly lit. Standing out there were three
professional-looking men in expensive dark business suits stood at the door--their metal hands
being the only exposed signs that they were metal-bodied, too. "Good morning, Miss Sera," said
one of them--tall, with crew-cut dark hair. "Would you please come with us? You are scheduled to
have your last scheduled lesson with your instructor today, and we do not want you to miss it."
_____"Huh? Well, I..." This visit from messengers of the Society was a bit unusual. Sera thought
that her kickboxing lessons were a bit on the informal side. Lissette was always so happy and casual
with her, and that made the lessons fun. She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of herself. "Ahem... I'm sorry, I didn't
know that I was on a schedule with Lissette. The way she was teaching me, she didn't tell me there
was, like, a SCHEDULE. You know?"
_____The first messenger put on a faint hint of a smile. "Maybe, she didn't know herself. But a very
important executive has made some decisions regarding your activities with her. Lissette is one of
the more valuable hackers, and so her time is, ah...LIMITED in some relationships and friendships."
_____Standing close by, the second messenger added. "What we're trying to say is, how
Lissette spends her time is in the interest of the Society. We don't control her life or anything like
that, but well..." He shrugged. "It's just business. No offense, miss."
_____Sera's emotional reaction was just that: a reaction. There was no hiding how she felt at this news.
She suddenly looked down at the carpeted floor--eyes looking at the way the carpeting of her apartment
met the carpeting of the hallway. Sera really wanted to continue those lessons. Not only did this past
week with Lissette mean lessons that strengthened her, but the lessons also meant being WITH her.
_____Now, she was being told that this was going to be her last lesson with Lissette. Furthermore,
she was being told to stay away from her. Sera felt as if she was losing the best friend in the world.
It wasn't as if Lissette was going to be KILLED or anything. (Ha, it would be interesting to see
someone TRY--how long they would last against Lissette's uncanny fighting skills.) But this was it, and
Sera felt as if she had only started to know that dynamic and wonderful girl. She was losing too many
people these days.
_____One good thing about being a cyborg, tears were a lot easier to hold back. Sniffing, Sera again
met the stare of the three patient messenger. "I understand," she said. "Let me get my day-purse, and
I'll be right with you. Okay?" She then left the door just slightly open, a slit of light coming into the
apartment front room as she went back in.
_____Okay... The first messenger then crossed his arms, and the second put his hands in his pockets.
The third one shrugged and just looked around. They could tell that Sera was a new cyborg: no
clothes at all. At least, she could have worn a scarf or something to hide where the synthetic flesh
of her face and scalp was sealed to her metal neck. Plenty of metal-bodied people went around
without too much clothing, but they all usually wore something. This one wasn't wearing anything.
_____Then she came back. "Sorry, guys. I just had a little trouble finding my key," she said as she
stepped out of her apartment, the thin strap of a small purse slung over her left shoulder. She closed
the apartment door and used her key to lock it. "Okay, let's go."
...
_____"Hee hee hee!" giggled that skinny cyborg in skinny business suit. It was Rafter, sitting
all alone at the bar. In fact, other than that somberly dressed bartender with the blonde hair,
there was no one else here. Rafter was giggling to himself, a sharp grin on his sharp face. He
took another hit of his drink--a Bloody Mary served in a very large mug. Giggling, he set down
his drink with the carefulness of someone thoroughly wasted. Sixty minutes before sunrise, and
he was already drunk.
_____Drunk? Hell, that cyborg was WASTED. "Hee-hee!" He blinked and looked over
at the bartender--who stood with arms crossed. Had his eyesight not been smeared by the
effects of prolonged toping, he would have been able to better-appreciate the cuteness of the
female bartender.
_____Cute… Beautiful…. She was a slim, somewhat petit woman with sea-green eyes and a
cute face, her blonde hair flowing down her slim back to her waist. The slim femininity of her
figure was a bit obscured by the clothing she wore--dark slacks, and black vest over a pure
white buttoned shirt. In a far-gone century, she looked as if she would have still been in
school--high school or college. But that time was long-gone. These days, if you could do a
job, you did it.
_____"Hee-hee!" HICCUP! "Why th' HELL d'you dress like a man?" asked Rafter. BELCH!
"I do-o-n't th-think I know-w-w any-body like y-you! Pretty little girl-woman, dressin' like a man!
Hee-hee! Li' you're playin' dress-up!" BELCH!
_____The female bartender smiled. "Ha ha... Maybe I simply came into these clothes? Anyway,
let me throw some criticism back at you. What if I said it was too early in the morning to be drunk?
Hmm?" She picked up a large green bottle and stepped closer to this end of the bar. "All of this
drinking, you must be getting an early start on your day..."
_____"Wha' would YOU know...about my day, BITCH?" said Rafter. BURP! "I have...been doin'
my job ALL...DAMN...NIGHT!" Hiccup! Right hand moving unsteadily, he somehow managed to
raised his mug to his slobbering synthetic lips--and drank off the rest of his drink. "Bein' an enforcer
is thirsty work! Workin' all damn night..."
_____She poured the drunken cyborg another drink from the bottle: more Bloody Mary. As the
bottle was so large, the young lady had to use both hands to pour it. "I work nights, too. I know all
about it. In fact, maybe I know more than you think." She set down the bottle.
_____Glug... Urp! "Hee hee! Whatever, bitch! WHATEVER! I'm TELLIN' you! You just
do-o-on't know," countered Rafter, slurring the words. This time, he dipped his head down so he
didn't have to lift his glass up so high to drink. Glug-glug-glug... Then a thought hit him--a revelation.
Yeah… YEAH!
_____Yeah, WAIT A MINUTE! What the fuck? Since when did damned Bloody Mary drinks
come pre-made in bottles around here? Bartenders ALWAYS prepared drinks, by hand, from the
basic ingredients available. Like, where was the (synthetic) tomato juice for the drink he was drinking?
Rafter was drunk, sure enough! But he still had enough state of mind to know some things were not
quite right here. What was also weird was how he could have SWORN that the bartender had been
serving him from the same damned bottle all night.
_____An indoor breeze blew, and the cyborg shuddered. The female bartender winked once, green
eyes sparkling. "You feel something, don't you? Something in the wind? There are things in the
breeze at times, you know." She nodded. "Oh yes... Things in the breeze that you can't see."
_____Hiccup? A questioning, puzzled look came to Rafter's face. "What the HELL are you talkin'
about? Bitch, tha' was just a COLD breeze! G-get it? COLD. Cold, not like these fuckin' warm
drinks you served me. Too...damn' warm! Like you held 'em between those little tits of yours before
you served 'em."
_____"REALLY now?" said the bartender. Her smile became a leer. "You really are a NASTY one,
aren't you? It looks like having your body replaced also changed your attitude! You didn't talk to
your mother or last girlfriend that way, I know."
_____Rafter quickly swallowed his latest gulp. "WHA-A-T! Shut your third cock-hole! I'm a
cyborg and I outlived both of 'em! My girlfrien' and my momma have BOTH been dead for 'bout...
What was it? Fifty or sixty…?" Hiccup! Then he stopped. "Wait a minute... Wai' jus' a
GOD-DAMNED MINUTE!" Shaking and quivering with anger for a minute, the wild-eyed cyborg
eventually met the bartender's calm, green-eyed stare. In a low voice, he asked, "How the Hell d'you
know about...th-them?"
_____To that she smiled. Then she opened her mouth as if to answer--and paused. Instead, she said,
"I tried to tell you, I know a lot of things... Oh, would you look at that! You're going to have company!"
She looked towards the entrance--beyond the six square tables where other customers would sit. "By
the way, would you please not mention 'Hell' so often?"
_____Hiccup-BELCH! "Wha' the HELL?" said Rafter. There was the distinct sound of the bar
door opening, and there was a rush of blowing air. He whipped his head around to look at the
door, and nearly fell off of his stool. In walked six business-suited figures, who looked like tall
black blurs to the drunken eyes to Rafter. Hee-hee…! Look, more blurry people for the drunk
cyborg to talk with!
_____But these just weren't any people. Obviously, the newcomers were messengers of the
Society. They were professionally dressed, of similar height and build--cyborg build. Bare metal
hands were exposed beyond the cuffs of their suits-jackets.
_____They took up positions. Two of them sat on the stools left and right of Rafter. One of
them stood directly behind him. And one of them began walking to the side. Two more moved
over to the door. They did this in a dark and professional manner--orchestrated and organized.
_____"Hey, bitch!" BELCH! "Get a LOAD of these guys. Walkin' on into this place like they
OWN IT!" Hiccup! "Hi, guys! H-how's business? Still rootin' for th' greatness of the Feng-Long
Society, eh?" Hiccup! "Bartender-bitch, serve 'em drinks. On me!"
_____One of the dark-suited figures had moved to stand behind the bar--standing next to the pretty
bartender. "Mister Rafter, you have had quite enough to drink. But now, you have business to attend
to!" The messenger looked left and down at the bartender. She really was pretty short… "Hello. He
really did have too much to drink, didn't he?"
_____She smiled. "Not really. I've only served him what was in this single bottle." Still using both
hands, she lifted the glassy green bottle. "And it was all he drank last night. He must have a pretty
low tolerance for this." She sighed. "Indeed, he is not a big serving."
_____"Wha' did you say?" asked Rafter. "Wha' the FUCK is that s'pposed to mean?" Not a big
serving? There was something in what the bartender said. He would never know--because there
were soon solid hands gripping his shoulders. But they didn't jostle him, and the gesture looked
vaguely friendly--hiccup! "Hey guys, I li' you all, too. Hugs all aroun'!"
_____The messenger standing next to the bartender looked down at her. "We think he's REALLY
had too much. Now, we'll just be off to the gym. He's going to need some exercise to work off that
alcohol."
_____The bartender tilted her head and crossed her slim arms. "Tell me about it," she answered.
Then she began tapping her foot. "By the way, he has a really bad mouth. Could you get it fixed?"
_____"It's going to be fixed, all right!" said another messenger of the group. "In fact, we're
going to see him fixed up in a way he's never been fixed before! Ha-ha-ha...!" To that, the other
messengers all had themselves a laugh--still gripping the skinny cyborg.
_____The messenger behind the bar nodded to his comrades. Then they lifted Rafter up by the
shoulders and dragged his drunken ass away from the bar and over to the door. Damn it, he dropped
his mug, too! The red drink splashed all over his clothes and the floor before they got him out the door.
_____The messenger here shook his head. "We're sorry about the mess, ma'am." He reached into
an inner vest-pocket, took out a mid-value credit-chip and set it atop the bar. "This ought
to pay for whatever drinks he's had--plus any of the vomit and other mess he's probably made.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going on my way. Business calls..." He then stepped out
from behind the bar--began to leave.
_____Smiling, the pretty blonde bartender looked on as he left--walking between the square
tables--getting over to the door. He opened it and was gone. "I must be going, too." There was
a rush of wind, and she suddenly wasn't there anymore. Neither was the large green bottle.
...
3.
...
_____Over at Gold's Gym, in the main atrium, most of the lights were turned off. The only
bright lights left on here were the ones that shone down on the boxing ring itself. Compared
to the rest of the place, the ring looked as if lit by spotlights. Everything else was covered in gloom
and darkness. All around, the mechanical exercise equipment in this place was in the shadows--making
the contraptions look odd and vaguely menacing. Really dim lighting was funny that way, making
ordinary things look different.
_____Before coming here, Lissette was talking to some friends at a night club. Then she was
"asked" to come here. Well, the messengers "asked" in the way that a dragon would ask a kitten
to step into a cage. Lissette didn't really want to find out what would happen to her if she said no.
_____ Then again, the result of saying NO would have probably involved nine dead messengers
and some very, very angry executives. So here she sat, placed at one of the ring-side seats--in the
clothes she wore at the club hours ago. Jean-shorts and sleeveless blouse showed off her shapely,
beautiful figure. Her dark hair was supposed to be styled as so it framed her face, but now she just
pinned it up into a ponytail. At least she was allowed to wash off her makeup before they took her
over here.
_____"Hmm-m-m... Hey, do you think I look like a mess?" she asked the dark-suited cyborg to her
left, arms crossed. He turned his head away from the ring to look at her. A smirk. "Well, I was just
ASKING..." she said. "Stuff like this is important to a girl."
_____"You look nice," he said. Then he went back to staring at the fighting ring--waiting. And
that was it. Lissette looked "nice."
_____Nice? NICE? He had no comments on anything. Maybe she had forgotten to clean off some
makeup before coming here? Or was her blouse getting too wrinkled? Nope, he just said NICE. If
she stripped down to her panties and bra and hopped onto his lap, would she get more of an emotional
reaction out of him? Probably not; Feng-Long messengers were pretty severe people. Well-l-l, what
if she...
_____Cl-click... There was the distant sound of doors being opened. That was followed by
the sound of some murmuring wafting across the darkened space of the gym. Lissette listened
carefully, hearing two newly arrived familiar voices. One voice was more familiar than the other. That
would be why Lissette was here.
_____There was going to be an arranged contest. And from the dark attitudes of the messengers
around here, she didn't think that this contest was going to be a card game. This was probably
going to be a forced duel. But a duel between who?
_____There were sounds of footsteps coming down one of the aisles that between the groups of
exercise equipment. Lissette sat up and craned her neck to see a familiar person being escorted
through the gloom by three messengers. Could it be?
_____Yes, it was. As the group approached the ring, Lissette could better see that it really was
the young cyborg she had recently taught--trained in basic kickboxing.
_____Sera stepped up to the ring and climbed into it. Her long red hair shimmered in the bright
light, flowing down her armored metal back. She turned and looked... Her eyes widened when she
saw Lissette. Then she nodded, understanding . If Lissette really was here, then Sera felt that she
could do whatever the messengers had arranged for her.
_____The messengers sitting nearby put their hands on her shoulders. She could feel the armored
fingers through the thin material of her blouse. She was the president of the Parasol Club! This was no
way to handle her! Then her shock deepened when they moved her closer to the ring.
_____Oh my God… The Society had done some pretty dark things before, but this was probably
their darkest thing yet. Were they going to make her fight? NO, they couldn't! This was WRONG!
_____She was about to say something when one of the messengers spoke up. "We were told to
make you be the judge," said the one on her right. Then he and the other one released their grips on
her shoulders. "You just have to be close enough to make sure that one or the other is destroyed.
Brain and all."
_____"One or...the other?" she asked, questioningly. "What other? Then came her answer. The
messengers didn't have to say anything--especially with all of the racket that jerk was making now.
Someone was being handled much more harshly than Lissette had been.
_____"I can walk MYSELF, you fashion-stiff freaks! Argh!" came another familiar voice. There
were uneven and shuffling steps coming into the main room of the gym, from the left side.
"I may not b-be SOBER, but I can kick your..." BELCH... "Kick any ass, any day! Rrgh..." The
messengers then practically dragged him the rest of the way to the ring.
_____Once the thin, business-suited cyborg was close to the ring, they lifted and pushed him
in. He scrambled to his feet, then his eyes first went to the only "fleshie" here, Lissette--standing
ringside. Her face and shoulders were barely visible above the lip of the fighting platform. "Lissette?
You're in on this too, huh? Argh... If I had a cock, I'd SHOVE IT so far up in you that the tip would
come out your mouth!"
_____Lissette gasped, shocked. Then she became very, very angry. "Oh, you JERK! OOH! As
soon as I get into the ring, you're DEAD! I'll kick off your crazy head, put it in a bag, and sell it! Sell
your head to the nearest Motorball Arena for THEM TO USE...! Ow! LET ME GO! Let me in
the ring! He's DEAD!"
_____The two messengers had to struggle to keep the angry girl from getting into the ring. Pretty strong
for a fleshie, though she didn't look it. They heard her shout, "Sera, I want him dead! Just for saying that!
Do you hear me? Use all the killing blows you want! Hell, use ALL the ones I taught you--even AFTER
his ass is toast!"
_____"Hee-hee-hee... I wonder how Lissette's going to taste?" voiced the psychotic cyborg, swaying
slightly and licking his lips. He swung himself around to face Sera. "Can't decide if I want to start with
her sexy thighs, or her nice ass first... Of course, after I'm done with her, there'll be plenty of room in
my quick-digest gut-tank for your brain... Hee-hee!" BELCH. "There was plenty of room for
THEM that special night last week!"
_____Sera's large eyes narrowed, becoming angry slits. Yes-s-s... This was definitely one of those
she was looking for. She clenched her fists, her electromechanical body becoming rigid. Though she
had never actually fought anyone before, for real, she swore with her life to destroy this one and his
two close comrades. Or maybe she would just smash his body, then eat HIS brain? That would
probably be the tastiest thing she ever eaten in her life--her human life, or her new one. So began the
fight.
...
_____Sera moved within six steps of the skeletally thin cyborg--raised her fists and took up that
basic stance she had learned--her right side facing her opponent. "Hee hee hee...!" She heard
him giggle as he tried to stand straight up. Instead, he swayed and swerved. The left side of his face
tried to smile while the right side twitched, right eyelid flicking.
_____"Hee-hee!" BU-R-RP! He took two staggering steps towards Sera. "I'm going to rock your
world! Hee hee! Gonna use that pretty face and hair of yours and make a KITE! A face flappin' in
the breeze...like that crazy shit Gale talks about! In the breeze!" He stopped within just a meter's
distance--the right side of his face still twitching.
_____"Shut up!" shouted Sera. She lashed straight out with her left hand--hoping to punch right
through him! THWACK... Sera saw an explosively sharp flash of light.
_____When her vision cleared, the female cyborg was looking up straight up at the bright lights
over the ring. She could feel the flat ring under her. There was the sound of Lissette shouting
something, but Sera couldn't hear exactly what: Her hearing was too covered up by an odd
crackling and ringing sound.
_____When the crackling stopped, she quickly got to her feet. The bastard just knocked her down,
that's all. She could still fight.
_____BURP! "I'm quick as the breeze!" declared the skinny cyborg. "Watch! Whe-e-e-e!" His
thin arms then seemed to disappear for some seconds--before reappearing, fists clenched. Rafter was
able to move his arms so swiftly that they could blur--whipping around faster than eyes could follow.
When he stopped whipping his arms around, the material of his jacket smoked--especially up around
his shoulder-joints. "Quick as the wind and...f-faster than you!" Belch…
_____As if to prove his point, he took another step towards Sera. CRACK! She saw another
bright flash and felt a blast pain--staggering back...before recovering her balance. Her right arm had
taken the hit, and there was a cuttingly thin dent in the armor where the triceps mechanism was. She
didn't even see him hit
_____"Can't block what you can't see, can you?" HICCUP! "Hee hee hee... Damn, I can taste
sweet victory already..." Belch... "Because that's the way brains taste--SWEET! Mmm-mmh!
Ta-a-asty!" He put his hands on his hips. "Oh, but YOU wouldn't know! You've never had brains to
eat before, have you? Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee…!"
_____Thwack! Sera's kick caught Rafter mid-giggle, right in the abdomen! The metal sole of her
right foot made for a really solid hit! She then returned to her basic stance while Rafter clutched his
abdomen and gasped. A tight smile came to her face. Hitting that skinny jerk felt goo-o-od.
_____Still bent over, he looked up at her and staggered back. Now, the twitching on the right side
of his face was out of control. He tried moving his mouth, but a reddish mush came up instead--bubbling
from between his lips. He stared at the stuff in shock, coming to a dark realization: That bitch
bartender was in on it too! She had gotten him drunk with some weird shit before the messengers
came to get him!
_____That bartender bitch! After this match, he was going to KILL her. Rip her cute blonde head
off her body and drink the blood straight from the neck-stump. First, he had to DO this red-head…
Staggering and angry, he began his approach.
_____He tried to move his arms--but he couldn't move them as fast. Something inside him was
damaged. Whip-THWACK! Another one of Sera's kicks, and Rafter went skidding back. Then he
sat down hard. Some more miscolored vomit came up out of his mouth and further ruined his
vomit-stained dress shirt and jacket. O-O-OH! He tried to stand up, then found he couldn't quite get
his legs to work.
_____Lowering her fists, Sera made a rush towards the sitting freak. She pulled back her right
foot, then KICKED. The blow tore a jagged piece off of his jacket and white shirt, striking the metal
chest beneath. And the damage went deeper than that, leaving him unable to breathe. Which was
perfectly fine, because it let her finish him off without interruption.
_____She stepped closer and BLASTED the back of her fist across his face. His head was whipped
to the left, eyes bugging wide open. A few sparks snapped across his collar, and then he fell onto his
back. He wasn't dead, since his mouth was still moving.
_____That meant the brain was still...fucking...alive! Sera put one foot to the right of Rafter, one foot
to the left. She then sat astride his chest, her metal thighs beginning to SQUEEZE.
_____Rafter's eyes began to close... Then things began to get weird. The sounds of Sera grunting
above him and the sounds of his own body beginning to break down began to fade away. He began
to hear a rhythmic swish-swish-swish sort of sound. Hell, why was he hearing SWEEPING? Didn't
that bastard with the broom realize that there was a FIGHT going on?
_____With an effort, he was able to get his head to loll to the right. It was getting hard to see, but
Rafter saw that there was definitely someone else in the ring. And for some reason, he was very afraid.
Turning his head to the side, he was able to see HIM coming. If he was able to, Rafter would have
SCREAMED. Instead, he felt darkness closing over him and the sound of wind filling his mind--just as
Sera's metal fists began slamming against his face.
____Thighs still clamping, metal buttocks still hard on his chest, Sera continued SLAMMING her fists
into the ruined synthetic face of Rafter. Now, the "face" was just a few pale scraps of synthetic flesh
on the front end of a badly dented metal skull. As she continued to HIT and HIT and HIT, there were
soon gaps in the metal where squashed brain-matter began to ooze out.
_____Sera then leaned forward as so her angry face was inches from the ruined one of Rafter. "YOU
KILLER! KILLING MY FAMILY! YOU KILLED THEM AND ATE THEM!" Her red hair in
disarray, almost covering her face, she continued to ruin the skull of the already-dead cyborg.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! This time, her punches were angrier swinging blows.
_____A full minute of this passed, and then she stopped. She gave a toss of her head to get some
lengths of her hair away from her eyes, stood up. Rafter wasn't moving. He would never move again,
not in this lifetime. Or rather, he looked like an "it." The head was a dented and oozing mess that did
not even look vaguely human anymore--because it wasn't. He--or it--had become a monsterous
cyborg, died a monster.
_____She stared down at the mess. The stillness of the body, the wet mush leaking around the
head, the puddling stain around the body... It was a real mess on the light gray cloth that covered
the floor of this fighting ring. "You are dead," she said to the body. And she stood there. Realizing...
_____For the first time in her life, Sera had KILLED someone. She had used her fists to beat and
kill. Now someone was dead. One person dead to balance the life of three others. This made her
feel a little different. But not much different. Should she feel different? Having killed? Not really.
_____"You are dead," she said again. She gave the dead metal corpse a final kick in the head before
she began walking away. Now... Where would she find those other two bastards?
…
_____Meanwhile, the Janitor stood in the shadows--standing in a distant corner of the darkened
gym. The dark blue of his work-clothes and hat blended with the darkness. His broom over
his right shoulder, his left hand was over whatever it was that was in his left pocket. Yes, something
really was in that pocket--something that looked ALIVE.
_____It looked like a big lump within the Janitor's left coverall pocket, squirming and struggling,
making little whining sounds as it tried to escape. You see, the Janitor found it in the ring--after the
fight in which Sera had killed Rafter. Now it was doing its damned best to try and get out! Because,
the thing was damned AFRAID of the Janitor!
_____But the Janitor just smiled a dark smile. His lips took on the same sort of shape a zipper takes
on a closed body bag. He turned, there was a blast of air... No one knew the Janitor was there, and
so no one noticed when he left. He had claimed what he had come for.
...
4.
...
_____After the duel, Lissette watched the messengers escort Sera away. With the messengers' metal
hands on her shoulders, that young red-haired cyborg looked a little lost. Lissette supposed it was the
first time Sera had killed someone. A few years back--when the Network was running things in this
sector--seeing people being murdered was something everyone saw. Though killing a brain was one
of just several crimes under the Network, it still happened. One would think that people would get used
to killing and death all around. But maybe, not when someone was killed with your own fists.
_____Hmm... There was the familiar sound of the gym's entrance doors opening. Lissette turned and
almost decided to follow the messengers to wherever they were taking Sera. Almost decided, but
she stopped herself. Well, they would probably take the cyborg home before telling their superiors
that the organized duel was over.
_____The messengers were now gone. That left Lissette in the gym with... She turned around and
faced the ring. "Eww-w-w!" she said aloud. Like, couldn't the messenger-guys have hired somebody
to clean up that mess?
_____The corpse up in the fighting ring WAS a mess--pretty disgusting. Just look at it! The way-skinny
body was all sprawled out, and the head was a smashed-up mess. Brains were leaking out, and the
bloodless white synthetic flesh of the face was shredded and smashed. Blood and cerebral fluid had
puddled up around the ruined head and shoulders. Worse yet, the skinny business suit was out of
fashion for about twenty years!
_____Yeah, she wanted that bastard Rafter dead--ESPECIALLY after what he said to her. But what
was a way to die! What was left of him was too nasty to even look at! Maybe she should have just
told Sera to punch off his head. That way, at least it would have been less messy. Or maybe not. Her
mouth twisted up in disgust as she thought of all the blood, hydraulic fluid, and other stuff that would
have come out of the cyborg's neck. Yuck...
_____Footsteps came up behind her. Lissette whirled around to quickly face the newcomer, turned
so quickly around that her ponytailed hairstyle whipped around and became more of a mess. "Oh
great," she muttered. She put her arms and hands up, fussing with her hair. "What now? I'm done here,
right? I was a judge to that 'duel' you just had. And I can...safely say..." She patted and stroked a few
more dark strands back into place. "...Can safely say that the fashion freak in the fighting ring is deader
than dodos."
_____The messenger shrugged. "Yes, okay, you're done here. The executives know how important
your time is, and they want to put you back with your friends as soon as possible. But they chose you
to judge the fight because you are somebody. Somebody important."
_____"Oh, I feel so-o-o privileged..." said Lissette. It was sarcasm, of course. She wanted to spend
the night partying. She didn't give herself a break too often, and last night was supposed to be one of
those nights she did."
_____The messenger either ignored the sarcasm or didn't get it. He continued. "Anyway, someone
named Sam called about you, one of your Parasol Club members. So we have a ride waiting out front
for you out front." He jerked a thumb towards the front of the gym. "If you'll just follow me."
_____Lissette rolled her eyes, then walked over to the messenger's side. They both began walking
towards the exit. "Sure, why not?" she said. "I'll accept your offer for a ride. You've already ruined
my day before it got started... I mean, look at my CLOTHES! I had one of the downtown
shopkeepers hand-press and starch this blouse! And did you know my hair took HOURS to do?
Not that you would care! If I was told ahead of time that YOU were going to practically KIDNAP
me in the middle of the night, while I was with friends, maybe I wouldn't have bothered to dress up for
the big party happening down at O'Connors and..." So on and so forth.
_____As they reached the foyer--and the front door--the messenger began to ignore the cute girl's
whining. How old was she, really? Sixteen? Nineteen? He had heard that she was twenty-something,
and she was supposed to be the president of that hacker's club. A president of one of the most important
organizations in this independent sector, and she looked--and acted--like such a kid! And...what's a
dodo, anyway?
...
_____The beginning light of the early morning grew into the full day. The urban roads were busy and
the sidewalks were crowded as people went to their places of work. Then the routine of the day began
in earnest: factories thrumming and computers heating in the buildings and offices of this sector. It was
soon another brightly lit afternoon.
_____As the sunlight warmed the air, the heated winds blew through the streets--picking up random
scraps of litter-paper, making it go skipping along the sidewalks and streets. Somewhere along the
line, street-cleaning trucks hired by the Feng-Long Society would suck up that trash. There was always
someone to pick up the trash around here.
_____One piece of litter-paper blowing in the wind had caught itself on a chain-link fence--a fence set
in front of a blocky brown building. Unfurled against the fence, the litter turned out to be a scrap of
newsprint: one of those locally printed "rumor sheets" that was so popular with the (literate) people
and the Society executives. This piece of newsprint was about the status of this sector--how it was
still disconnected from the Network.
_____Disconnected, but for how long? The Network was starting to have certain "errors" investigated
within its infrastructure. This included the "errors" set up by the Parasol Club to disconnect this sector
from Network control. That fucking mega-computer up in Zalem--high up and over a hundred miles
away away--had a mind of its own, but one mind could not concern itself with each and every little
problem of every sector in every city!
_____But now, that mind was becoming a tad bit suspicious. At least the "technical difficulties" happening
up in that floating city would keep the computer busy. Oh yeah, very busy. Maybe the technical
difficulties...
_____Whoops! That the scrap of newsprint was torn right in the middle of a paragraph. After all, it
was just a scrap--not a full paper. The wind changed direction, and the newsprint was blown off. Blown
away from the chain-link fence. Flip! Another swath of newsprint was stuck to the chain-link fence.
_____This one was a rumor about bounty hunters having secretly come into this sector of the city.
According to this bit of newsprint, no one could be sure why bounty hunters would bother coming here,
or IF they were coming here. There were no posted bounties on anyone in this sector. The hackers
made sure of that. Maybe some bounty hunters were a little anxious and wanted some action
prior to rewards being put out by the Network. That would explain that weird guy with the broom.
But that wouldn't explain how he's so creepy that people have nightmares about him, or how he can
get into any...
_____Fl-flip! The wind snatched away that next bit of newsprint--sending it away. The printed scrap
of paper went flapping and skipping along the same city sidewalk, seeming to chase that other scrap.
Paper litter was like birds, always flying and fluttering place to place--until something caught it. This,
though migrating flocks of birds in this part of the world were killed off by toxic air pollution.
...
_____"They BROKE...HIS...BOWL! Gya-a-a-ah!" shouted the wild-eyed cyborg, running along the
hot sidewalk. His floppy business clothes fluttered like dark wings of madness, arms waving like mad
and shoes slapping the concrete. He stopped running for a moment, panting and shaking. "And HE
got Rafter! When your BOWL is BROKEN, it's all over if HE gets you. Don't let HIM get you!
Argh! Nya-a-a-h!" He continued to run on, spreading his deranged message.
_____It was the afternoon, and plenty of executives were dining at indoor and outdoor cafes and
restaurants. Although there were some people in coveralls at these restaurants, most of the people
here wore dark business clothes: the men in business suits, the women in conservatively cut dress clothes.
These were executive uniforms worn of the Feng Long Society. And even during lunch--ESPECIALLY
during lunch--they were talking business.
_____Some of the people at this cafe stopped their conversations, and looked over at that running
nut across the street. Apparently, that freak over there was high on something. Who knew what, exactly,
since there were plenty of "recreational substances" to smoke, eat, drink, inject, and even soak.
"Recreational substances?" HA! That would mean that certain drugs are supposed to be fun. But from
the look of that nutball running along, it didn't look as if the stuff he used was good for recreation.
_____A thin, blonde-haired businesswoman commented, "Whatever could that madman mean? He
probably doesn't what he's saying himself." She looked primly at the executive sitting across from
herself. "I don't use drugs, you know. And that's why." Her slim fingertips wrapped round the stem of
her wineglass. Sipped her white wine. "Drugs make people crazy."
_____"But Prudence, alcohol is a drug, you know," interrupted someone also at this table: a pert-faced,
brown-haired female executive. Her eyeglasses glinted. "And so is marijuana and nicotine. I
saw you smoke and drink plenty last at that acquisition party last week. You remember, the one with
the big broken Deckman in the middle of the dance floor? You used plenty of drugs there, and YOU
didn't go crazy."
_____"Oh Hell!" responded Prudence, the blonde businesswoman. "Don't be tart! Drinking and
smoking don't count. Everybody does it! Now, as I was saying, Jonah..." She turned her attention back
to the male executive sitting opposite her. "I was saying that the crazy cyborg over there probably doesn't
make any sense."
_____Jonah, the male executive, frowned in thought. "Not so sure about that, Prudence. Maybe he
at least THINKS he's making sense. Maybe he makes more sense than we think he does. Just a little
bit messed up with weirdness. You know, like a dream."
_____"OATMEAL! Don't let anything happen to your OATMEAL!" came the shout from a bit farther
along the street. Some darkly dressed enforcers came by, metal hands exposed, starting to struggle
with the drug-crazed cyborg. "N-no! No! No-o-o...!"
_____Good, now they were taking him away. Good riddance. That freak was ruining lunch! Back
here at the lunch table, Prudence straightened up--inhaled. "Make sense? I truly do not think so! No
sensible gentleman would ever think such a thing. The cyborg is clearly deranged. Jonah, I thought
better of you. I thought you were a more sensible man than that, thinking that a crazy cyborg could
ever make sane sense. Then again, you tend to swallow plenty of foolish ideas."
_____"Heh-heh... Prudence, I hear that you swallow too. And I don't mean ideas," said the brown-haired
female executive, looking down at her bowl of creamed corn. She put her hands to her lips. "Whoops!
Did I say that OUT LOUD? I'm sorry!" But the way she said it, she really wasn't sorry.
_____Aghast, Prudence put her hand to her chest. "Emma! You say the most UNREFINED things at
times! I mean, REALLY..." She glanced back at the scene across the way: the cyborg in floppy
clothes being dragged away by enforcers. "It is times such as these that I would like to see bounty hunters
on our streets. You know, dear, instead of randomly placed Society enforcers. I was just talking to Karl
about..." From there, the rest of the lunchtime conversation continued--with that cyborg across the
street being ignored.
_____"WAIT! LISTEN TO...ME!" came a fainter, more distant shout. "We'll all be BROKEN
bowls soon enough! There will be cinnamon sprinkled all around, and then HE will come for us all!
Then we'll all go into the breeze--carried or lifted! I can hear the lost faces FLOATING and LOOKING
in the breeze! Argh... LET GO...!" A strong THUMP on the head quieted the cyborg. Then the enforcers
over there carried him away.
...
_____Elsewhere in this sector, there was an especially gritty bar and social club--one of several. The
tables were rickety and the lighting was bad. No windows, just some florescent tubes for lighting. But
the good beer was cheap, there was damned good music every weekend, and everyone here was
friendly. Overall, it wasn't such a bad place.
_____Lissette drank some of her beer, looked around. She was sitting at one of the tables, along with
an unlikely twosome: a middle-aged businessman and a thin teenage girl. Sam and Kela. Chubby and
balding, Sam still dressed in those pinstripe suits he was so fond of. The girl, Kela, was dressed and
styled more flamboyantly: short-cut jean shorts, florescent pink tee shirt, and shoulder-length hair bright
blue. Her gold-colored eyes sparkled. Kela's hair was a dye job, but her eyes really were that color:
a slight mutation.
_____Lissette didn't feel like dressing up much. Since this morning, she had washed and changed
into blue jeans and matching blouse--nothing fancy. Her hair was left loose, going straight down her
back. "Not bad," she said. "I can see why you like to hang out here, Kela. I thought this place was
going to be really crummy. But that was because I was just judging it by appearances..." She then
frowned, recalling the documents she had received through e-mail. Hmmph.
_____Sam smiled, responding to Lissette's comments. "Yeah, honey, I hear that! It's pretty easy to
go by appearances, ya know? 'Specially when I'm havin' beer-time lunch with two pretty gals like
yerselves. Say, Lissette... Kela's got herself somebody, thanks ta you. Ya even found me the lady
that's now my wife! Yer still pretty an' young-lookin'. Why don't ya get somebody?"
_____Still thinking about the files the Society sent her... There was no surrounding explanation or
information--just the text files. The files were about "mysterious strangers" being seen locally. Meaning,
there were some newcomers walking the local streets--maybe people who didn't belong here. Bounty
hunters?
_____"Yeah, Lissette!" cheered Kela, gold eyes seeming to glow with enthusiasm. "Why don't YOU
have a boyfriend, huh? Maybe Chris or Leon. Joel, hmm? Or what about...SAM!" She frowned.
"On second thought, maybe not Joel. He's a real prude sometimes."
_____"Oh, not now..." said Lissette, sad. She leaned forward, both hands on the table. "You know
what? I've been thinking about our problems with the Network. We've reconfigured the machines
our labs. But there's something else going on."
_____Sam smirked. Okay, it was time to talk business. "Alright, I think I know what yer talkin' about.
Yer talkin' about what's really goin' on up in Zalem, right? All that talk about 'technical difficulties,' an all.
Yeah, we REALLY know what kinda difficulties they're havin'. PEOPLE difficulties. An' if the difficulties
keep happenin', maybe that damned floatin' city in the sky won't be alive anymore. Know what I'm
sayin', toots?"
_____Lissette shook her head. For some seconds, she said nothing--the din of the bar crowd in the
background. "No, I'm not talking about THAT. I'm talking about those weirdoes the people are writing
about in the rumor sheets. You know, about people who just, like, disappear? And that creepy guy
in blue coveralls? How he can go ANYWHERE? Sounds like some bounty hunters got their hands
on some lost technology they dug up from a scrapyard."
_____"I don't think they're just bounty hunters," said Kela, her sun-colored eyes taking on a dreamy look.
"Maybe they're NOT bounty hunters. Like, what if they're not from around here? Maybe they're...visitors.
Not really human at all. You know?"
_____"Ya mean, like those old stories 'bout flyin' saucers an' spirits? An' hairy mutant men that live in
the mountains?" commented Sam. "I don't wanna believe in crazy shit like that! But the way they talk
about that guy with no face... Sheesh!" He shuddered. "Tryin' ta creep me out!"
_____Lissette shook her head. "I'm not sure. It's just a bit hard for me to put together. It's no
coincidence, what's happening in the rumor sheets. Think about it. Zalem is having problems, and the
Network run up there s trying to take this sector back. Now we have hired enforcers going psycho
and weird visitors coming into this sector of town." She paused, her dark eyes looking to Kela, then
Sam. "Some really scary shit is happening."