The Cinnamon Horizon
by Elliot Bowers
Chapter 7: Dipped in Hell
_____While the Dark Stranger handled business, the afternoon grew later-sunlight growing dimmer.
In about sixty minutes, sunlight would be a golden glow on the western skyline. People would soon
be getting off of work for the day, filling the sidewalks while heavy trucks carried goods and executives
drove their cars. This made for busy roads in the dying light of the day. Soon enough, people would
be home and things would calm down--settle down.
_____Sera tried to enjoy the view, how the fading sunlight seemed to coat everything in soft golden
tones. But it was becoming a bit hard for her to focus her eyes. Drinking did that to a person, made
things harder to see. She was sitting at one of those indoor-and-outdoor restaurants in the downtown
area--at one of the tables. A bottle of white wine was in the middle of the table. Did she drink enough?
Well, she was still sober enough to ask herself that question.
_____"Well, miss?" asked the waitress: a red-bodied female cyborg, wearing a waitress' outfit--because
she was a waitress! (Sera giggled at the thought.) Her clothes looked somewhat like an old-fashioned
maid's dress from centuries ago. "Miss, your party left some moments ago. Of course you are welcome
to stay here, but..." She looked around. "It's going to be dark in about an hour and well... Some crazies
are on the loose, from other sectors."
_____With a wasted look on her face, eyes bleary, Sera looked at the waitress. "Yeah, it's getting
dark..." she said. Her eyes looked to the wineglass--noting how the orange light of late afternoon
slanted through it. "It always gets dark, every day, right? Nothing anyone can...do... The darkness
is always coming, every day. The night always gets us."
_____"Umm... That's right," said the waitress, trying to be friendly. "Every day comes to an end,
I suppose." The waitress played along with this philosophical extrapolation until she could figure
out a way to convince the red-haired cyborg to go home or something.
_____"So like... Yeah, it's like a statement on fate. Every day ends and the stars are supposed to
come out!" The waitress just then realized her stupid mistake. "Oops..."
_____Sera gave the waitress such a look! STARS coming out? What the fuck! Because of the
extensive air pollution and the blaring city lights at night, the stars hadn't been seen over this city for
over a century. Saying that the stars were visible was like saying a massive flock of songbirds would
take flight the next morning and fill everyone with a sense of joy. THAT was crazy talk: birds and
stars! Air pollution eliminated the enjoyment of both.
_____With the waitress standing there and looking stupid, Sera said, "I think...it's time I went home.
Hmm, yeah..." She leaned back from the table and reached into her small day-purse. "How much?"
_____"Your party paid the tab," answered the waitress. "They paid in advance--left a little extra, in
fact. I'll go call a taxi-cab for you." In case Sera got herself plastered on the wine, the messengers had
left instructions--including Sera's home address for a cab to follow. They wanted Sera rested up for
tomorrow morning; she had to get home that night.
_____And the taxi cab did come. The waitress used the money given to her by the messengers, paid
the driver more than enough, then gave him the address to Sera's apartment. More importantly, she
told the driver that Sera was valuable to a certain high-ranking executive of the Feng-Long Society. If
the cab-driver didn't see to it that Sera made it home safely, then the messengers woudl... Well, let's not
talk about that.
…
_____So the chubby cab driver successfully got Sera back to her apartment building. He even
parked the vehicle and led her up to the entrance. That wasn't enough; she was getting drowsy.
He had to wrap one of her metal arms around his shoulders and help walk her to the elevator.
She lived on one of the higher floors.
_____Geez, cyborgs are HEAVY--even the females! For such a nice-looking cyborg, nice figure
and all, she sure weighed plenty! And this elevator was taking its time, getting up to the right floor!
Ah... FINALLY! The elevator doors opened, and they were on the right floor.
_____Straining, the chubby cab driver helped Sera to her door. It was almost like shoulder-carrying
a damned solid steel statue! And that wasn't the hollow kind, either! By the time he got her there, he
was panting and sweating as if he'd run a few marathons.
_____At her door, Sera was somehow able to fumble open her purse and take out her door-key.
She staggered on in to her apartment and shut the door. Then there was a painful-sounding
THUMP when she hit the floor, probably falling unconscious. At least she was home safely; the
cab driver wouldn't be punished now. He did his job.
...
_____Inside of the apartment, the young cyborg lied on the carpeted floor. These last few hours
were such a blur. Somehow, Sera remembered the invitation--the reminder card in her purse.
Miss Patsun had invited her for tomorrow's breakfast. Several messengers had seen her at the
indoor-outdoor restaurant and gave her the invitation, gave her some hints about how to behave
at a formal meal. Miss Patsun could be quite picky about etiquette sometimes. Ha-ha-ha...
_____WHAT! Sera began to hear someone laughing, and she thought she saw flames flickering
along the walls... "Ah!" she gasped, struggling to sit up! She just had a glimpse into a nightmare,
a glimpse surprising enough to frighten her. Then she felt herself losing consciousness... The
sounds and feeling of the oncoming nightmare became stronger.
_____There was no fighting it. Sadness and drunkenness conspired against her to put her to
sleep. She struggled and whimpered, but the darkness and laughter closed over her. She heard
sounds of wind and distant sounds of fire crackling.
...
_____She sat down at a long table, covered with a white tablecloth. There was a candelabrum
in the middle, but the candles had melted. All around, dancing along the walls, there was fire!
THE WALLS WERE ON FIRE! Yet Sera didn't seem to mind. Somehow, the tablecloth was
unaffected.
_____"Aah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!" came the soprano laughter. The Dream Woman appeared at
the seat way over at the other end. She raised her slim pale arms and tilted back her head. "Ha-
ha-ha...! It is such blissful music! Listen to the chorus of cooking oatmeal! HA-HA-HA-HA...!"
_____Sera didn't hear anything at first. Then she did. Just beyond the crackling sound of the fire,
she could hear screams. They were sheer sounds of pain, coming from beyond the burning walls. That
must be the "chorus" the Dream Woman was talking about.
_____The Dream Woman then lowered her arms, lowered her gaze to look at Sera. Then the
flames faded away--revealing the damaged walls. Very damaged, the walls looked horrible:
bubbled and blackened paint, cracks throughout. The sheer ugliness of the walls was even visible
in this painfully dim lighting.
_____Now the screams were especially audible. It was as if there were people outside of this strange
room being tortured. But there was more to it than that... Sane people didn't scream the way THOSE
people were!
_____They were trying to shout something garbled, shout through those burned walls. Mewling, twisted
gibberish... Then came the pounding, the THUMPING! Thump-thump, THUMP! THUMP-THUMP-
THUMP! Were they trying to get in?
_____"You know, darkness ends every day," said the Dream Woman. "And cinnamon is stronger at
night." She smiled a sharp-toothed smile. "It is time I learned to enjoy cinnamon... You will as well."
_____What? Just then, a bowl appeared in front of Sera--a bowl full of cinnamon-flavored oatmeal.
Damn, there was so much cinnamon in the oatmeal that it practically covered the surface of the food!
There so happened to be a silver spoon here for Sera to use, and the flames from the walls had heated
the oatmeal nice and warm. So Sera just picked up her spoon and dipped it into the mushy food... AND
As soon as the spoon pierced the surface of the oatmeal, SOMEONE SCRE-E-AMED!
...
_____Her head full of pain, she got out of bed... Bed? She didn't remember actually getting to her
bedroom last night. Her last memories were of being at that restaurant and getting drunk. Yes, she
had deliberately aimed to get herself thoroughly wasted yesterday. Then those messengers gave her
an invitation to breakfast with Miss Patsun--that high executive of the Society.
_____That's right. She had some work to do today, before tonight. When and EXECUTIVE invited
you to breakfast, you went! It was time to get up: headache and all. So... "Ow-w-w..." she moaned,
up and getting out of bed.
_____She staggered and swayed as she walked towards the doorway. Her right hand went to her head
while her left hand went to the doorframe--steadying herself against the dizzying nausea. Now she had
a hangover, and she had to do something about it. It just wouldn't be good manners to show up at
Miss Patsun's breakfast table looking like the undead. Some carbohydrates to feed her brain, along
with some water, would be a start.
_____Squinting and feeling dizzy, she left her bedroom and went towards the kitchen. Maybe if
she had not been so nauseous, she would have noticed that her bedroom window was wide open.
The outside winds freely howled in.
_____In the apartment's small kitchen, Sera had a simple box of breakfast candy and a glass
of water atop the table. The kitchen light bulb was expensive, but it gave off a soft glow that
made the square table seem cozier. Munching on some sugary, minty squares, she looked at
the box she was eating out of. It was a very plain box simply labeled, BREAKFAST
CANDY--no fancy designs or coloring. She remembered reading some newsprint article
about how, centuries ago, boxes of food were put into packages with silly colors and stupid
names. Advertising, it was called: bringing attention to certain products.
_____There was none of that here! The food around here wasn't served in silly colored or
funny named packaging. Sera supposed that was true because there was no need for that
"advertising" stuff. When there were only a handful of corporations making everything, why
advertise? People would buy it, anyway. She also remembered reading that things were
the same a long time ago, too: all things being made by just several gigantic corporations.
Except, way back then, they had something called "public government" and "police." The public
government was like the computer up in Zalem, or like the high executives of the Feng-Long
Society.
_____She reached into the box of breakfast candy and got another handful of the sweet crunchy
squares. Munching on them, she wondered about how it would have been like to live back then--a
time before cyborgs, a time before wars and pollution made the world the way it was today. It was
hard to imagine. The cities were smaller back then, too--surrounded by big areas full of green land
and funny animals, birds flying in the sky.
_____KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK. Oh, fuck! That must be the messengers! What time was it? She
glanced up at the clock. Ouch! Turning her head too quickly sent a spike of pain through her still-achy
head. Anyway, it was 6:36: not too long after sunrise.
_____"BE THERE IN A SECOND!" she shouted. OW! Whoops! She just now remembered: NEVER
shout with a hangover headache! Well, it wasn't so bad now, though: A little achy, but the hangover was
fading. She closed the plain box of breakfast candy, drank the rest of her water, and put everything away.
All she had to do was grab her day-purse before getting to the door. Three business-suited cyborgs
waited for her.
...
_____They took her over to Miss Patsun's office building in typical Feng-Long high-executive fashion:
a long black car, driven by a professional driver. It was just an hour before the morning traffic would hit
the roads, so they were going to make it there in good time. They were going to be there thirty minutes
ahead of schedule--so the messengers told her.
_____And they were early. With the golden morning sunlight shining from the eastern skyline, the
messengers escorted Sera up to the entrance of the office building: a tower of annealed steel and
tinted glass. Inside, the first floor was a huge atrium of potted plants and marble flooring. The
reception's desk was across the way, flanked by bodyguards. Two elevators were beyond that.
...
_____A short elevator ride, and they arrived at the dining floor. The messengers walked Sera up
to double brown polished doors--two huge bodyguards standing here. She noticed that the doors
were made of real wood, very expensive. The doors opened up, revealing a scene set for fancy
dining.
_____"Have a seat at that end," said one of the messengers. Sera walked in, stepping onto the
black carpet. She walked towards the end of the long white table and sat down. The walls seemed
to be paneled with wood (extremely expensive!), and there was some kind of huge cloth-draped
statue attached to the left side of the room. A chandelier illuminated the space. Here at the long
table, where Sera sat, there was already a plate here. Right of the plate were silver chopsticks; to
the left was a spoon. She had seen this place somewhere before. Hmm...
_____The elegant executive, Miss Patsun, herself walked in--slender and clad in black. Miss
Patsun's pleasant face had little makeup beyond some red lipstick, and her body was covered with
a sort of close-fitting gown with a currently fashionable black jacket over it. A bodyguard pulled
out a seat for her at the head of the long white table, and she sat. "Ah, good morning, Sera! You
have arrived in good time..." Having said that, she looked up at the bodyguard--who bowed and
went to go signal the waiters.
_____"Good morning, Miss Patsun," answered Sera. She gave glances to the waiters in white, the
servants who came in wheeling covered trays. One of the covered trays had lightly boiled shrimp
and rice--for Miss Patsun, who readied her chopsticks. The other covered tray had a bowl of
delicious-smelling breakfast food, along with a small side-dish of breakfast candy. She hadn't seen
this kind of breakfast food before, but it smelled good. "Gosh...!" she said, looking around, "I'm not
used to this kind of attention," she said.
_____Miss Patsun smiled. "It is no large inconvenience," she said to the red-haired cyborg. "After
all, I have made you my...special case. I so happened to hear of what had come to pass--with
three enforcers gone rogue. I wanted to be sure that--in your case--things would be set right,
that you would be able to do something about those who harmed you so. Helping you is helping
maintain a balance between right and wrong. Balance is healthy. Yet...my assistance does not
come without cost."
_____"Cost...?" asked Sera. She thought about her moderate income and her just-as-moderate
stash of credit-chips--which was cut in half when she paid for her body replacement operation.
Besides, Miss Patsun must be one of the richest people in the whole sector, if not in the entire city.
"What kind of cost, Miss Patsun?" she asked, almost too afraid to ask.
_____Miss Patsun took in some rice with her chopsticks. She swallowed, smiled. "Oh, just some
favors. Favors which will be beneficial to us both. These are favors that will bring you experience
and skill." She folded her hands beneath her chin. "You see... Sera, are a prime candidate for a
high-ranking enforcer's position. My business partners have personally seen you perform in various
fighting venues. You have only been trained a week, yet your skills and potential are said to be
amazing. They say that you wrote out the technical specifications for your own body..."
_____"I barely remember doing that," admitted Sera. "It was weird. Like, it was me...and NOT me,
at the same time. Something... Someone put ideas in my head that day, when I went into the
cyber-clinic."
_____"Who would that be?" asked Miss Patsun, dark eyes widening in curiosity. "This sounds
like a very interesting business. Is this some kind of ah... Muse? A kind of figure that brings about
inspiration?"
_____"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss Patsun, but I guess it's something like that,"
answered Sera. She barely understood what the executive was talking about--wasn't too sure,
either. "But about being an enforcer. I'm not sure I'm strong enough yet."
_____"Hmm..." said Miss Patsun. "But you WILL find the strength to be a good candidate for
enforcer-ship, Sera." She smiled a dark smile. "Especially after the promise of what I have to
offer you--IF you do complete what I have outlined for you." Miss Patsun turned her head to look
on one of her bodyguards. "Show her."
_____The bodyguard went to the wall, where something was covered up. Up until now, Sera
had practically ignored the draped sculpture-thing over there. Now the bodyguard had pulled
away the draping, and she saw what was beneath: the armless, legless torso of Carbon--head
still attached. He was still alive. Sera would do what was necessary to end his life.
_____"What must I do to get him? To HAVE him...?" asked Sera. Anger edged in her voice,
slightly slanting her eyebrows. She felt angry enough to kill and destroy something, her feelings
barely tempered by etiquette.
...
2
...
_____It was very quiet here in the night club, since it was afternoon. Plain florescent lighting
illuminated most of the place--because there was just one set of windows, way over at one
end of the place. Things looked sharper and more bold in the white lighting. The big
rectangular dance floor looked so plain and empty as no one danced on it now. This place felt
sedate and quiet, though there were some people seated at the tables--over at one end of this
theater of a room.
_____The thirteen people here were not happy. Most people had plain and sad looks on their
faces, the kind of expressions worn in times of loss and darkness. Everyone had drinks in front
of themselves, though few people drank right now. Some of the tables had low conversations
in serious tones. It was as if the quietness--the silence--was something precious they did not
want to disturb.
_____Today, they were mourning the loss of Joel. When he didn't show up at his usual clubbing
spots, some people worried. He didn't appear at the usual local eateries; that meant that he wasn't
eating. And he was not at his second-floor apartment. The confirmation of his death came to the
Parasol Club came in the morning, when some of them were at computer labs--monitoring Network
text messages. There would be no laughter and happiness here for now. No music played here.
Laughter and smiles were nowhere to be found. No, this was a different kind of social gathering.
They were all here for mutual comfort in their grief.
_____Lissette was here: She simply had to be. Sitting at one of the tables near the dance table,
she sat with her hands in her lap. Everyone else was told to dress as they do on typical days, but
she was dressed somewhat more formally: a black pleated skirt with white stockings, a white
long-sleeved blouse. Simple black shoes. Her silken dark hair was held back with a white ribbon,
a contrast to her milk-toned skin. She was a girl in black and white.
_____Looking across the table, her dark eyes looked over at Kela... Poor girl, she was crying.
Gasping sobs escaped her throat, shaking her body. She had been weeping off and on for the past
hour, her gold-colored eyes dripping drops of sadness. Hugging herself, she sat pulled back a little
the table--to keep her tears from wetting the tablecloth. All of the sadness within was an unquenchable
pain that shook her.
_____In contrast, Jake was almost like a statue. He sat with hunched shoulders, his rumpled tee
shirt looking more loose and floppy than usual on his thin self. His tousled blond hair looked
wayward and lost, matching the expression on his face. There were no words from him: He
was just...here.
_____Then Lissette looked over at Sam. His everyday outfit of dark, pin-striped suit was
appropriate. As he was chubby and somewhat heavyset, a middle-aged man, his jowly face seemed
to sag. His big hands were wrapped around a tall, tan-colored drink atop the table. Half
of it was gone. Lissette could not read minds, but she suspected that Sam's thoughts were on all
the things leading up to today--and if things could have been different.
_____Some of those text messages were regarding an executed "cyber-criminal," his head recently
turned in. That was it: just his head. It was JOEL'S head. Lissette's hands clenched into fist, her body
tensing as her mind went over the more gruesome details.
_____The Deckmen had put Joel's brain through some kind of information extraction machine. It was
a machine that systematically chopped up brains and read the resulting mess like computer information
storage media. Oh yes, Sera knew exactly how they had taken information from a human brain, even one
dead for several hours. The Network had used the same kind of technology used to replace the brains of
adult Zalem citizens: taking human brains and transferring the information within into computer chips.
_____Except, the information Joel's dead brain wasn't transferred to such a chip. It could not have
been: His brain was dead for hours by the time it had been put through that damned process.
Thank goodness; Lissette couldn't bear the thought of a cyber-copy of Joel's mind being locked up
within the vast depths of some computer machinery up in Zalem.
_____How Lissette knew about this was part of her secret. It was part of what she was. She
knew all about what the ruling master computer in Zalem did to human brains. In fact, Lissette
knew the brain-to-chip conversion process so well that she could do the process herself if she had
the right equipment. To think, the original purpose of her existence was to serve the master
computer... Kela sobbed.
_____"I'm sorry. I have to say something," said Lissette to her friends at the table. Some heads
turned to look in her direction. As she stepped over to the dance floor, shoe heels clicking, more
people turned to look. For some seconds, some of them must have thought she was going to dance
or something. No way was she going to dance. Instead, she was going to do something
entirely different. She waited until most of the Parasol Club members were looking in this direction.
_____"Listen to me, everyone... I an not the best speech-maker. But I am the president of the
Parasol Club. So it is my responsibility to say things that have to be said. I have to say this. I just
can't hold it in anymore. Everyone has to hear this.
_____"Joel...did not die for nothing. He died because he was one of us, doing what we do to keep
this sector disconnected from Zalem's control!" Her voice became angry, fiery. "That damned
oversized computer within the floating city, it has tyrannized people for too many centuries.
CENTURIES, do you hear? For those of you with the club early on, you know that Joel was there
when we just got started. When we first partnered with the Feng-Long society and liberated this
sector. He was a steady presence among us.
_____"Now he is gone. There is one less computer hacker around to keep the Network out and
away. We are weakened as a result. The Parasol Club is short one member.
_____"But GUESS WHAT! Our enemy, that damned computer originally identified as 'Melchezedek'
is also weaker these days. We work with recycled computer parts, and we know that all computers...
all MACHINES....die. Yes, the Network and the master computer behind it form a machine that
is dying. We do not know when it will finally die, but we know for certain that the MONSTER
will die!
_____"Maybe we are bringing about the death of the monster-computer up in Zalem. I hope we
are!" Lissette lowered bowed her head and lowered her voice. "Though there are transmissions by
the Network about plans to get us, though we KNOW the Network is planning something big, we also
know that the Network's days of life will soon be over! And maybe our constant hacking is doing it!
Joel died during a time in his life when he was attacking the Network. He may be dead, but his
enemy--our enemy--will be dead too."
_____She looked around. Some of them looked at the tabletops or looked at drinks, but they all
heard. They believed it. They all knew it. This was going to be the last of the centuries-long age
in which a machine oversaw the cities of the world. Though Joel would not be, they were going to
be here when the floating city in the sky fell from power--it's machines dead and silent.
...
_____The social gathering had lasted until very late in the afternoon. As the Parasol Club had
rented that club for the rest of the day, some of the members decided they were going to have an
early dinner there. Everyone else decided to leave and go back to the rest of their daily routine,
getting back to the computer labs beneath the city streets and hacking away at the Network. There
would be some especially malicious computer viruses breaking down parts of the Network today...
_____Lissette decided to go practice a bit more of her kickboxing. It wasn't that she really needed
the practice; she just needed to go. It would be time to herself--letting out some of the pain she
felt. No tears had come from her eyes, but something had to come from her. Something had to
come from the negative emotions.
_____So she changed into white tank-top and shorts, put on sneakers, and got her purse.
Before heading over to the gym, she had dropped by a Feng-Long money-house--where about
half of her credit-chips were safely held. (The damned Network wouldn't have cared to give
people a convenience like that...) Then she took a taxi cab over to her final destination for the
day. She paid the driver and walked up to the store-front entrance. Eyes turned to look.
_____In the gym's foyer, the owner's assistant was behind the desk--reading some newsprint. He
was generally known as "Coach": a pot-bellied fleshie whose arms and left eye were electromechanical.
Why he didn't become a full cyborg, no one was really sure. It probably had something to do
with his former job of coaching arena cyborgs and how he still tended to wear athletic clothes and
arena team jackets. He was retired, but people still called him that--"Coach."
_____Lissette stood straight and formally, feet together and left hand on her purse. "Good
afternoon, Coach," she said. He looked up from his sports news prints and smiled: Lissette was
a regular here, and he was glad she came by. "I'd like to pay for some damages to punching bags,
in advance."
_____"Huh? Whaddaya mean...?" he said at first. A few seconds passed. "Oh-h-h! I gotcha." It
looked as if Sera was going to take out some anger on some equipment today.
...
_____Some time later, with the afternoon sun going down on the city, the after-work regulars here
paused in their workouts. They were looking at the damage being rendered by the cute, long-haired
girl--over in the space by the boxing ring. Lissette usually didn't come here so late in the day, and so
they did not know her. All they knew that the fleshie girl was doing about as much damage to punching
bags as a cyborg. Some of them thought she was some kind of mutant. She didn't look it, though: that
shorts-and-bare midriff outfit of hers showed quite a lot, and she looked normal. Oh yes, sweetly
normal.
_____THUMP! THUMP-P-P! She kicked with her left leg, then her right leg, making that punching
bag ROCK. The wire-reinforced kevlar bag was already tearing around the seams. She seemed
to be just softening it up. Th-thump! A left-right punching combination made the cylindrical bag
start to spin before she KICKED it again.
_____One curious male cyborg was sitting at a coordination-improvement machine. That machine
looked like a bench-press, but more complicated: designed to test the strength output of a cyborg's
arms. Curious about the girl, he leaned over to another and asked something. "Hey, who's the
chick? She some kind of partner to the enforcers?"
_____The average-looking cyborg nearby shook his head. "No, I really don't think so. There are
no human--or 'fleshie'--enforcers. Some may be bounty hunters outside of this sector, but we're not
that desperate for enforcement of the laws." From over here, he leaned a little forward to get a slightly
better look at Lissette. A bystander would have thought that he was just checking her out physically.
"Hmm... It takes a pretty strong-looking fleshie to fight like that. She has a good-looking body,
but she doesn't have the muscle mass for that kind of performance."
_____"Yeah, I'd agree with you--about the muscles...and her good-looking body," he said, smirking.
"But how's she do it? I mean, if she's not a mutie and she's not a cyborg, then how the fuck can
she wreck about three good punching bags without some kind of powered weapon? Without
ANY weapon?"
_____The average-looking cyborg put on a frown, thinking on it. "Hmmph... No, it can't be. No
way that could be true." He stared at Lissette, kicking away at that poor punching bag. She
seemed to be destroying the thing with deliberate slowness; her kicks and quick punches looked
controlled enough to prolong the suffering of the bag. It couldn't be. The level of knowledge
simply didn't exist anymore for THAT sort of idea. "Couldn't be..." said the average-looking cyborg
aloud.
_____Ka-THUMP! Lissette landed punch-and-kick combination on the bag. Some more wire
seams came loose along the bottom. Now, a person could see the thick plastic inner-bag that held
in the balled-up chains inside the bag. Punching bags for fleshies were filled with sand; punching
bags for cyborgs were filled with balled-up steel chains.
_____"What couldn't be?" asked the curious cyborg. "Hey guy, talk to me. What're you thinking?
Think you've got an idea how the Hell a fleshie babe like that can kick ass without looking like a
male bodybuilder?"
_____"I have an idea, but it's too impossible for me to believe right now," answered the average-
looking cyborg. He smiled. "Besides, if I don't believe it, you probably wouldn't believe me if I
told you."
_____"Yeah, you're probably right," agreed the curious cyborg. "I'll admit it: There are a lot of
things I wouldn't believe. Like that stuff in the newsprint about strange people from outer-space
and Zalem burning all full of riots these days. I just like to believe what's safe and real."
_____Thud-THUMP! Her fists seemed to have especially hard knuckles. Her punches were
now leaving fist-sized indentations in the kevlar punching bag. Now, a person could hear the
slight clinking made by the chains in the thing. The bag would probably bust open soon. And
the way she kept up those attacks, she could probably finish off the bag with one more hit.
_____"'Real,' indeed..." mumbled the average-looking cyborg in response to what the curious
cyborg last said as they both continued to eye Lissette. Then he looked at what other cyborgs
were doing here. From the looks of things, he and this guy here were not the only ones distracted
from their workouts. They found the girl interesting--even entertaining.
_____People were watching. A trio over at the left side of the gym was crouching around a low
stool, a pile of credit-chips atop the stool. Apparently, they were betting on the girl's performance.
They were probably betting on how many bags would be destroyed before a certain time. Closer
to here, to the right, two identical female cyborgs stood with silvery arms crossed. Was it jealousy
or envy on their faces?
_____Anyway, a swift series of left-and-right kicks from the girl had finally ruined the bag. All
the balled-up chains came tumbling out of the bottom like the innards of a large, artificial worm.
She got a stool, climbed up it to unhook the bag, and climbed down. Then she tossed the ruined
bag and the chains were put with the rest--the remains of two other punching bags. That made for
three.
...
3.
...
_____Another day had come to pass. Sunset came and passed in the city. It was a deep and
reddish sunset that lasted for a while, before the sky faded into dark. One good thing about the
air pollution: all the particulates and discoloring chemicals made sunsets longer and more dramatic.
But most people couldn't get a good view of the setting sun from the ground anyway: too many
buildings.
_____ Ah well, who gave a fuck? It was night-time now, another day of work done. Come the
end of the week, there'd be a little more money to bring home. Right now was the time to kick
back and relax--indoors or outdoors--for a few hours before going to bed. Some people were
walking the sidewalks and taking cabs out to the big arena to watch some fights.
_____That, and there were plenty of people outside--sitting in alleys and in vacant lots. Some
old chairs and broken appliances were used for seats. Some people gathered around television
sets they'd set up--with taped-up electrical cords stretching into windows and hand-made metal
antennas to catch old broadcasts from the arenas. If not televisions, there were always those
good plastic radios sold near the downtown area. Get some beer and some friends, and a person
could have a pretty good time.
_____Carlos was having a pretty good time here-- in this vacant lot. A few televisions and
radios chattering in the background, and some local street lights provided some dim illumination.
He worked hard in the factories, but being with friends made life worth living. He was a cyborg
like most all of his friends. A few bottles of beer next to him, he was sitting with Marlene and Lars:
both of them working cyborgs as well. They all wore rugged work jeans and tee shirts made of
thick cloth. They weren't talking about the usual shit tonight. Tonight, they were talking about
some good rumors.
_____Lars had a rugged sort of face, short-cut straight blond hair atop his head. His metal physique
was above average mass. His body had to be pretty well built and strong because he was a truck
loader. If a person didn't know him as a friend, one would be offended at the "mean" way he spoke:
curt and stiff. "It is hard for me to believe, Carlos," said Lars in that rigid voice of his. "I think it is
a lie," he said. "Would the Network ever give up?"
_____"Lars, I've gotta stick with what Carlos is sayin'," said Marlene, a pretty sort of cyborg
woman of slight build. She worked in textile manufacturing. It didn't pay much, but she didn't
live alone; she lived with three other roommates who worked at the same building. "We all need
some kinda hope for the future, ya know? An' just thinkin' about the Network being destroyed
some day is good."
_____"So long as there is food and other people, I could not care," answered Lars. "The Network
runs the Factory system in other sectors. It makes life hard, but people still live." He shrugged,
making for slight clinking sounds from his big shoulder-joints. "The future will take care of itself.
It does not matter if people are happy or sad. It does not matter if the Network makes people sad."
_____"Ah no, man! Don't think that way! The Network's going down! The future will be really
happy!" went Carlos. He reached into his right jeans pocket, took out a folded and wrinkled up
scrap of newsprint. Unfolding it, he tilted it as so he could better see the text. "See? It says so
right here. Zalem is having 'technical difficulties.'"
_____He handed the text over to Lars. Like Carlos, Lars and Marlene were both surprisingly good
at reading. Being a cyborg meant living a hundred years or so without really losing mental
capabilities: plenty of time to pick up a few skills.
_____Lars took up the scrap from Carlos and perused it. "Hmm... This was written by Joel Cruz.
He is a reliable source of information." He spent a minute reading the first paragraph in the light of
the street lamp back out by the road. "If he wrote this... WHAT!"
_____A sound in the night air surprised and angered him. CLANK-K! "Aa-a-agh!" After the impact,
the injured cyborg in the distance YELLED,--echoing against the walls of nearby buildings. It was
the sound of a cyborg being hit HARD, and the following scream meant that whoever was hit was
in a lot of pain. The scream came again before another HIT silenced him.
_____Carlos, Marlene and Lars all turned to look. The commotion was coming from the edge of
this lot, out by a corner of the sidewalk over there. There was one very, very big cyborg--a real
monster with a head that looked outrageously little atop its massive metal body. In the low lighting
of the electric street lamps, the thing looked sinister. It was surrounded by about seven people
with steel pipes and balled metal fists.
_____"SHUT UP, YOU! Criminals! You're all CRIMINALS!" came a vicious new voice from the
same direction. "Who do YOU think YOU are? Trying to stop ME? You bastards in this sector
are all gonna be KILLED!" To emphasize his point, he HIT another one of the shorter cyborgs--
knocking the poor guy down and making him drop his pipe.
_____Carlos and his friends were just workers. They didn't especially like the idea of getting up
to confront that thing. One thing they could do was RUN for it. But fights were not odd, even
if they were rare. A person just had to have sense enough to stay out of things.
_____But that cyborg over there must be one of those bounty hunters. They came in from time
to time, prospecting potential bounties that really didn't exist around here. This one seemed
Hell-bent on raising some chaos and maybe taking some heads. For now, though, he seemed to
be just satisfied to knock some locals around.
_____CLINK! One of the shorter cyborgs swung a metal pipe at the bounty hunter's left arm.
It was a pretty good hit; the big cyborg staggered. But that was it. There was no significant
damage. And the big jerk grinned...
_____WHAM! Someone else was knocked away, making him land in the street. He managed
to stand up, though shakily, and he staggered over to the other struck cyborg. His body must
have been badly damaged, because he was now running away--clutching his metal chest. The
chest was where one's artificial organs lie. If that was too damaged, then a cyborg was as good
as dead.
_____The six that remained looked shaky themselves. But they stood their ground, crouching
and brandishing those metal pipes they had gotten from somewhere around here. This was
THEIR sector! And until some enforcers could get over here, they were not going to let some
crazy bounty hunter come here and knock them around!
_____"You criminal jerks are REALLY getting on me!" growled the gigantic bounty hunter. He
tilted back his head and let out an absolutely disgusting and savage ROAR. It was deep and loud,
as if he had a part of Hell in his chest and opening his mouth let the sound out. When he stopped,
his eyes no longer looked sane--glinting madly in the dim and indirect lighting of the street lamps.
They were mad little eyes in a small head, a small head atop a huge body. The bounty hunter had,
in that moment, become a real monster.
_____Swish-GRIP! His huge left metal arm flashed out, and the gigantic claw-like hand closed
over the head of one unlucky cyborg. The unlucky victim squirmed and struggled, his head being
all squeezed up. His struggles became more frantic as the grip increased...then stopped. Blood
and clear fluid leaking from his ears and nose.
_____The others tried swinging those rusty steel pipes and what-not, trying to make that cyborg
let him go. All of the clinking and clanking sounds made a lot of noise. Yet it did not seem to have
any kind of effect on the big metal beast with the small head. He--now an "it"--stood there gripping
the victim's body by the head.
_____There was a sudden sound of ripping air when he swung the body. No one saw any warning,
just a very sudden movement. Three of the cyborgs with pipes were knocked away, while the
now-headless body went flopping along the dark night street--leaving a dark wet trail of blood
and hydraulic fluid as it went.
_____No sooner had that happened that the metal beast took hold of someone else, gripping with
both hands. A wrenching sound of crunching metal, a stifled gasp, and the cyborg was torn apart
at the waist. Both halves squirmed and poured wetness. The metal beast released the lower half
of the body and began SLAMMING and SLAMMING the upper half into the concrete until the head
and face was a mess. He then dropped the ruined body-half.
_____A CRACK of lightning exploded from somewhere, making the metal beast stagger. What was
THIS! Gray smoke began fluffing from a new, coin-sized hole in its chest. This confused the
monstrosity for a little while: Where did this hole come from?
_____Then came that same CRACK sound again, making
for the same result: another hole in the chest, venting gray smoke. In an almost comic moment, the
metal monster's small head whipped left and right as it looked around for where these sounds and
attacks were coming from. Then it saw four figures walking through pools of lamplight, coming
in this direction.
_____"We apologize for the lateness, folks!" shouted the first enforcer--a dark-haired male sort in
a typical suit. He had a massive, blocky kind of gun in his right steel hand. It was so big that the
thing must have weighed as much as a head-sized chunk of iron. A fleshie would have needed a
small motorized winch to raise that thing up.
_____In fact, all three of his fellow darkly dressed enforcers had the same sort of gun, even the female
in formal jacket and pleated skirt. They were walking as if they had the entire night to do this thing.
With the guns they had, they were simply going to win. The monster would have no chance at all...
_____The monstrosity dropped its gory load. Its claw-like machine-hands hung loose, dripping
fluid and blood. It was hard to tell in the indirect street lighting, but the expression on the monster's
face looked like fear. It knew what guns were.
_____Coming within about twelve steps of the huge thing, they raised their guns. CRACK! Another
shot and flash of light, and the machine-beast was holed with sparks coming out the back. Then
came an entire storm of thunderous shots. The sounds of blasting and cracking was all mixed up
with the flashing and echoes, extreme blasts of light and sound everywhere! It was a chaotic
mess of blasting and cracking and flashes of light. Then it all stopped.
_____The enforcers lowered their guns, the tips of the barrels now glowing red. They then
reached into their jacket pockets for more ammunition. These were thick and shiny bullets that
were individually loaded into the bottoms of the guns. While the small-headed, huge-bodied
bounty hunter stood there, big chest all full of holes and bullets, the enforcers reloaded.
_____"Aren't you dead yet?" asked the female enforcer. "These ceramic rounds are expensive,
and I don't feel like getting more. Do I actually have to climb up and blow your head off?" She
took a few steps closer to the big thing.
_____The monster's head tilted downward. Its face contained an entire world of pain and
suffering, a twisted expression of sadness and torture. "Nng... Guh... Guh..." it blubbered.
Blood followed, flowing from the mouth. "Gally..." Its head tilted up and looked to the dark sky
above the city. Then...it...began...to...fall...forward...WHAM-M-M!
_____Whoa! All the enforcers had to hop aside as the huge thing HIT the sidewalk. This big
monster was not moving anymore, and it would never move again. Blood coated its back where
the ceramic bullets had exited, lingering smoke beginning to fade. The thing was now just a piece
of junk.
_____People in the nearby vacant lot wandered close, trying to get a better look. But they didn't
come too close. The crowd didn't want the enforcers to think they were attacking! Some leaned
forward, and a few others moved side to side to see around other people. Yes, the thing was dead.
...
_____When the small crowd began to cheer, the enforcers began to walk away-- walking
with the barrels of their weapons still hot. "We'll have to leave a memo with the maintenance
department," said one of the enforcers. "That big fucker is going to be a LOT of scrap metal..." He
paused. "Hmmph. Too bad about those poor broken-up guys back there. Guess there aren't
enough of us around to keep everyone safe all the time."
_____"But we DID stop that huge bastard," said the female enforcer. She jerked a thumb back
in the general direction of the ruined bounty monster and the small crowd. "Stopped it with
GUNS! When it comes to the choice between fists, blades or bullets, guess which one wins?"
_____This group stepped up to the intersection. This was where they had parked their ride: a
sleek black car. It was nothing fancy, just a four-seater they used to get around. They opened
up car doors and climbed on in--the brown-haired enforcer sitting in the driver's seat. He set his
gun in a special holder between the front seats before starting the engine.
_____"Funny that guy should mention her," said another one of the enforcers. "I think Gally was
a Motorball player a really long time ago or something... I wonder what happened to her. Maybe
she's still alive somewhere."
_____"I'm not sure..." went the female bounty hunter as this car began to move through the city
streets. "I don't always follow print stories about athletes, but I think I read something about her
getting up to Zalem with a crackpot scientist."
_____"Zalem? HA!" said the dark-haired enforcer sitting in the front passenger seat. "With all
the crazy stuff happening up there now, I've heard that dead bodies are just being TOSSED out
by the dozens every week! I'm talking about fleshie bodies. Dead citizens of Zalem, all beaten up
and mutilated by whatever's going on. There are probably so many people dying up there now
that their normal body disposal processes must be overloaded. You couldn't PAY me to go up
there now!"
_____"They're throwing BODIES out of Zalem? EWW-W-W!" went the female enforcer.
"Could you just imagine the MESS in the Scrapyard zone? The fleshies must go SPLAT when
they hit the mountains of junk or something."
_____"It sounds to me like they should get random bounty hunters up there...instead of trying to
invade our sector," said the cyborg driving this car. "If that great big computer can't keep the people
under control, then something must be really wrong."
...
4.
...
_____Sera stood at the front of the brightly lit, hard-floored room. Her metal-gray body and long
red head of hair was a contrast to the white wall behind her. Looking from person to person, she
saw that everyone was looking at her. There were eighteen enforcers in this room. All of them
were seated in plastic seats, looking at her--and listening. She was the one that was supposed to
talk. This was a very odd situation for the young cyborg; she had no public speaking experience.
_____Clasping her hands together, she bowed her head--her long red hair cascading to the sides.
She had to think... Had to think... Her head tilted back up, and she glanced to the back of the
room--before starting to speak. She knew what she would say now. The best way to put on a decent
speech was to be honest.
_____"Just in case some of you have not met me before, let me introduce myself. My name is Sera.
That's it. Just Sera. No family name. I'm not trying to be fancy or smart or anything like that... It's just
that I had a family. A full and loving family, a long time ago. But..." Her eyes saddened. "Then, those
I loved started being killed.
_____"My parents... They died during that really crazy time when all the bounty hunters were being
kicked out. You know, when the Network machines were being destroyed. There was all of this
craziness and violence then... So many people were going nuts. My parents had to go out every day to
look for food to feed me, my little sister, and little brother... We were just so hungry, and most all of the
places to buy or get food were closed because of the riots. Lots of people were killed.
_____"A friend of the family told me the bad news. She brought me to them, showed me their bodies.
Their blood... I'll never forget the looks on their faces." Sera's voice seemed to crack, and her eyes tilted
downward.
_____She took in a shuddering breath, continued. "So it was just me, my brother, and my sister.
There were no other relatives. The friend gave me some money, but she was having problems
herself. I had to find a job that would take teenagers. It had to be a good job that paid a lot
of money. So I..." She paused, looking around. "After the riots stopped and Feng-Long took
control, I needed money fast. Since I wasn't a cyborg, I couldn't work in factories. And I
wasn't good at using computers or anything. So I... I began prostituting myself--having sex
for money. It was hard at first. But when lots of customers started talking about how good I
was, I started making a lot more cash.
_____"Things were getting good for me and what was left of my family. About that friend of the
family, I was able to hire her for a nanny to look after my little brother and sister while I worked nights.
We would cry sometimes when we remembered our parents... But things were getting better! Really
good! I was making a lot of money, so I was able to pay for a good place for us to stay. And we never
had to worry about money for food or good clothes. We were even able to buy some nice things to
enjoy. Everything was getting better until those BASTARDS CAME!"
_____When Sera shouted those words, some members of the crowd tilted their heads to the side,
as if they were vaguely confused. Such anger! Yet they kept their composure--not flinching at the
loudness.
_____That was when someone walked into the room. No one else really noticed him, but there he
was. He simply stood at the back of the room, looking. The young female cyborg continued her
impromptu speech, trying to ignore his presence. Thinking, WHAT WAS HE DOING HERE! Who
let him in! Was this some kind of test of her nerve!
_____"Those three fuckers killed what was left of my family. They killed my little sister and brother.
They killed the nanny. When I came to my apartment and saw what they did, they tried to kill me
too. I remember... Remember being hit until I almost bled to death. Then they beat me until bones
were broken. I should have died, but didn't.
_____"So I took my money cache and left the apartment. A really strange fire burned up the place
after I left. The bodies were burned up too. Completely burned to ash. Then the fire stopped.
_____"I made it to a clinic, where I became a cyborg. I promised myself that I would, one day, be
strong enough to find and KILL those three evil jerks. And I did become strong. I killed one of
them, but the second one died on his own. Hit by a truck."
_____That newcomer, at the back of the room, was still here. He was unnoticed by the enforcers,
who were all looking at and listening to Sera. That was good, since all of the enforcers would have
tried to rush and grab him if they would have seen him. Sera continued her speech...
_____"The third one, Carbon, is still alive. A high-ranking Society executive, Miss Patsun, has him.
She had his arms and legs chopped off so he won't go anywhere. She promised to give him to me when
I have proven myself... So now I'm supposed to be one of her best enforcers to prove how better
and stronger I am." Sera then raised her arms. "So here I am! With a new body and a little training
from that hacker-girl Lissette." Lowering her arms, she also lowered her voice. "I'm here to not just
be one of the enforcers, I'm supposed to be one of the best. Miss Patsun herself tells me what to do
now, like a kind of personal assistant. And...yeah. That's about all I have to say. Thanks."
_____All of the enforcers here stood up. This was when they would question her about her will to joining
their organization. One of them, that one standing in the center of the front row, spoke up. "So it's simple
revenge that's putting you up to this, eh? What about the pay you will get, or the pride of keeping this
\sector free of Network control?"
_____Sera answered. "It's really not about the money. I just want to make things right again. And the
only DAMNED way I can do that is with revenge. It's right for wrong. It's balance, you know?"
_____At the back of the room, the visitor swayed slightly side-to-side. It was a playful gesture; he was
pretending to be some kind of beatnik doll. It was an unusual action. The visitor was unusual. But Sera's
attention was on the enforcer who asked her questions now.
_____"And then what?" asked the same enforcer in the front row. "Revenge is all fine and good. In
fact, we encourage people setting things right whenever we can't. Yet if that is the sole purpose of
your continued existence, then..."
_____Sera interrupted him. "I'll think of something, but that doesn't concern me until later," she said.
"Right now, I'm supposed to help you guys. Then I can have my revenge." Her eyes took on a
strange look. "I'll kill Carbon really slowly, making him think about what he did. He's going to
cry and scream and really-really-really wish he was dead. But he won't be. Uh-huh, he's gonna
scream for a long time until I shut him up."
_____That visitor at the back of the room was the Janitor, having gone unnoticed by the
enforcers here all of this time. He pivoted on his left foot, walked towards the door out. But
instead of reaching the doorknob, he vanished--a breeze marking his exit.
...
_____It was getting late into the night, nearing midnight. While all of the other hackers were
sleeping off their hangovers and their misery, Lissette was in one of the underground computer labs.
The bright white florescent lighting here made everything seem sharper and brighter--illuminating
everything here and eliminating most all shadows. The problem was, even the slightest dust buildup
on the computers here was brightly revealed--which was why the Parasol Club members dusted and
maintained this place so often.
_____And, being down here was deceptive. There were no windows--of course. A person could
not see the change from day to night. Instead, the constant indoor brightness could play with
a person's sense of time. Being here could also deceive a person about the way things were
upside and outside: The air below ground was always cool and pleasant, while the air up on the
surface was always changing.
_____Steadily working, undistracted, she continued tapping away at the computer workstation.
Hmmph! Didn't that big stupid machine up in Zalem ever give up? Everybody knew that the thing,
Melchezedek, was almost toast! No machine lasts forever!
_____Right now, this computer lab's main machine, the server, had blocked the Network's attempt to
identify it. The Network was STILL trying the same stupid tactics to retake control over this sector--
STILL trying to contact the (destroyed) Deckmen and (dismantled) bounty posts.
_____How foolish, she thought--sighing as she typed in the computer commands to diagnose
the Network-blocking software. The computer's screen seemed to pause while it performed
the commands Lissette had typed in. As usual there were no problems. The hackers' computer
servers and workstations still kept the Network disconnected and... WHAT!
_____Wink-flicker! Lissette saw her computer's display blink. She leaned forward in her
seat. Before doing anything, she had to identify the problem. It didn't LOOK like a typical
hacking attempt at this machine. The first thing a person ought to do if a machine is being
hacked is to turn it off. But this machine could always be repaired. It was more important to
see what was happening first.
_____Some words came to the flickering, malfunctioning screen. They were hard to see at
first as the screen showed slanting streaks and bright flashes. Luckily, she could read really fast.
The words on the malfunctioning computer's screen said something like this:
_____CINNAMON...blows along the third street. Cinnamon...blows... (FLICKER!) Blows
along the (BLINK-FLICKER!). . . Third Street. The (FLICKER-FLICKER!)... third...street
in mind (Blink-BLINK!).
_____"What the HELL is that supposed to mean?" she asked aloud. Then the computer lab's
lights winked a few times. The computer screen became worse, still showing that bizarre message.
"Cinnamon...blows along the third street." That was supposed to mean something, but Lissette
couldn't quite... AH-HA! Then she knew!
_____There was a street nearby named Troisieme--the French word for "third." It was six
blocks over, close to the sector border. Maybe if Lissette went there, she would find out who
was screwing with her computers. So she turned off the computer monitor, leaving the processors
running to keep that connection with the supposed interfering hacker. She went to the door and
climbed the ladder to the surface.
...
_____"Oh, yes-s-s..." said the female cyborg--a thin, metal-bodied bounty hunter. "You're a
pretty one. Maybe we'll just cash in your brain and keep the rest of you for ourselves. Your
body will make a great trophy!" She reached out an armored hand and put it under the naked
young girl's chin. "Why don't you open your eyes, hmm? Afraid I'll pluck them out?"
_____The girl's clothes had been ripped away and left in a tattered pile nearby. She was being
held to an alley wall by the strong hands of two other bounty hunters--both males. Metal hands
pressed her arms and thighs, bruising. Also nearby was a headless dead body--the cause of her
being trapped here. All that she did was step into the alley when she heard someone scream in
pain. Her curiosity and sympathy had brought her here.
_____Now she thought she was going to die in a painful, frightful manner. Her eyes clenched,
her cheeks were wet with tears--glinting in the dim alleyway light. Her purple hair was in disarray,
a reflection of her emotional state right now. She gasped and sobbed, expecting to be killed--or
worse. There was no one here to help her, because it was so late at night. Now these scary people
were going to do whatever they wanted to her. And because she was beautiful, they were especially
anxious to do something obscene.
_____Swish...WHACK! The female bounty hunter's head was knocked sideways...by a
well-tossed BRICK! She blinked twice, blood pouring from her ears and nose, before falling
to the dark grimy asphalt of the alleyway. Then the two other bounty hunters looked around,
distracted and confused. What the heck was THAT?
_____They looked to the right, to the alleyway entrance. It was hard to see, since there was
just one dim light in this alley. Then, there was a white-clothed BLUR with trailing black hair,
bringing the sound of running feet.
_____The blur ran up behind them. THWACK! One of the cyborgs loosened his grip on the girl.
He had no choice: His metal neck was broken. He dropped to the hard alley ground. Sparks
and blood jetted from his broken neck machinery.
_____With the last cyborg stared in awe, the dark-haired girl leapt and kicked. Suddenly,
his metal-skulled head made a cracking sound when it hit the alley wall. And the headless body
collapsed, shuddering and twitching.
_____With the three cyborgs broken and dead, there was now no one to hurt the victim. "LISSETTE!"
screamed the girl--Kela--opening wide her gold-colored eyes. She wrapped her lithe arms around her
rescuer, hugging and gripping. "THEY WERE GOING TO... GOING TO...!" The rest of her words
were lost in gasps and sobs.
_____Lissette gently put her hands onto Kela's scraped, quivering back. "Shh-h-h... It's over. They're
dead." She then stroked Kela's back to help calm her. "Let's go over to the nearest computer lab. We
can use the side-room to get you cleaned up and give you some new clothes."
_____As Lissette helped Sera out of the alley, she thought about the oddness of this situation.
Apparently, whoever had sent that mysterious message had known that something bad was happening.
Someone was helping the Parasol Club and had looked over them. Were it not for that strange phrase
on the computer screen, Kela would have been killed.