All The Colors of Yesterday

Chapter 10

by Elliot Bowers

_____It began like every other morning for this executive of the Black Market. There was a high-up view outside his office window, his office being high above the streets and higher than most buildings. The hot yellow sun lit up the sky several hours ago, making for a bright and hazy view of the cityscape through the big wide picture-window--far as eyes could see. Well, it wasn't too far--due to the hazy smog. The chemicals in the air were thick enough to see…

_____Chemicals, smog, pollution… Whatever people called it, it was good smoke to this executive, Mr. Mikaile. All of that smoke was the sign of profits being made. The machine-buildings out there were churning with activity, goods were being made, and all of those working drudges down on street-level were doing something useful instead of just moping around--looking all useless and pathetic. They were all just useless bums and street-trash to him…unless they were in the factories and working.

_____What was Mr. Mikaile doing? Currently, Mr. Mikaile was reading newsprint. He was much like every other executive: a plain face, a conservative haircut, and a creased business suit. And like most all executives, his job description was "administration." There were secretaries, accountants, and other people to handle pay, money management, resource allocation and everything like that--things he was in charge of. He was in charge, so he didn't have to do any of that kind of work.

_____He had to sit in his office, attend a meeting once a week or so, and sign contracts every so often. The video-phone terminal and the folders on his desk were things there to add to his appearance of importance--to impress the underlings who came into his office. Appearances of importance were important.

_____If it weren't for people like me, thought Mr. Mikaile, there'd be no one to run this stupid city…full of stupid plebs who don't know the difference between their heads and their butts. By people like himself, he meant the Black Market executives. Certainly, in a world without Zalem, somebody had to be in charge! And all things considered, it may as well be people like himself.

_____There was a sound in the distance, maybe. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a boom of sound outside and below. What in blazes…? That was probably a machine malfunction; those maintenance people were just being lazy or something. Maybe it was the electrical system or something… What'd they call it? That power-thing… Ah well, he didn't know, and he didn't care.

_____B-b-bing! The telephone attached to the video terminal rang, making him nearly fall out of his leather seat. That thing wasn't supposed to ring! Why would anyone call him directly? Miss Anbehs, his secretary, was supposed to deliver his messages to him. Ah, Miss Anbehs…

_____It made his work almost pleasant, seeing her step into his office--that little cutie dressed in her short tight skirt and open-collar blouse. With her stylishly straight-cut auburn hair and big dark-blue eyes, she was such a doll, which was the real reason why he hired her. And since she had that new synthetic flesh-type body, the kind of body that looked real all over, he was seriously considering having Miss Anbehs perform more…ah, secretarial duties for him in a more private context.

_____B-b-bing! And the phone rang again, shaking him out of his fantasizing. Slapping the desk, he picked up the handset and looked to the small square video monitor--which flicked on. "Who the heck is this! I'm an important man, so this had better be important!"

_____He saw nothing but jagged lines on the video terminal, heard nothing but static on the telephone line. The hissing noise soon calmed enough for a voice to be heard. "I knew the words, but I…sang…them…wrong…" went the voice, gasping and harsh. Mr. Mikaile sneered in annoyance, and then he saw a hazy and wavy image of someone through static--the image of an old man in coveralls. "It's going to be an o-o-old…sad…song!"

_____What the…? "Listen, you crazy old nut!" sneered Mr. Mikaile, pointing an angry finger at the wavy, warped image on the video monitor. "I don't know how you managed to call my office or even get my number, but you just made the last mistake of your life! I'm going to hang up, and then I'm going to call a whole group of enforcers to beat you within and inch from death. And some of my enforcers used to be bounty hunters! Hear me?"

_____The screen went black, and waves of static hissed through the phone. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," laughed the new voice on the line. It was six sounds… Six syllables… The voice laughed exactly six times before the line went silent.

_____"Hello…! Hello!" shouted Mr. Mikaile. Angry, he was about to press the silver button to signal his pretty secretary when the doors opened. She walked in--wearing that tight little skirt and open-collar blouse of hers. She looked as delicious as usual… But something was wrong. She tried to say something, opening her mouth to speak when about rough-looking cyborgs in coveralls walked in.

_____Everything happened pretty quickly after that. Miss Anbehs gave a shriek of fright when they shoved her aside, making her stumble over and fall next to the right-side wall. The intruders then strode over to Mr. Mikaile's desk. "What the…?" blurted the executive as strong metal hands gripped the neat clean lapels of his suit. This metal-bodied cyborg lifted him up and hurled him through the big glass window and made him go falling through the pollution-hazed air...

_____"Ye-e-eah-h-h!" came the shout, just another shout lost in the rest of the yelling and chaos. The boom of sound that Mr. Mikaile heard earlier was the sound of the rioters blowing up a storefront. It didn't matter to Mr. Mikaile now, because he was dead. His corpse was now laying splay-limbed on the sidewalk, along with the bodies of people he had fallen on. There was all kinds of shouting and chaos around here. Some people over there were bashing storefronts, while people over here were bashing guys in business suits. The screaming and shouting was all mixed up with laughter and yelling.

_____"Wooh! Pa-a-arty!" shouted a chubby man in big wide jeans and big tee shirt--two open bottles of beer in his hands, one bottle in the left and another in the right. He stood on top of the bashed shell of an executive's car, now without wheels, windows or even an engine. The rioters had taken that away too. "Party down, everybody!"

_____Some people laughed while some other people managed to get one of the car doors open. They began tugging out the seats, a briefcase, and everything else in there. All of this activity made this car start rocking back and forth. With the car rocking, that chubby man standing on the roof had a hard time standing up straight. He chuckled as he slipped off the car's roof and onto the hood--laughing with his beer splashed on his clothes.

_____What began as a new and made-up holiday turned into a free-for-all street-party! Around some time last night, everyone was told that they didn't have to work for the Black Market today. So they didn't. When some of those jerks in black suits came through the local city neighborhoods and asking why people didn't go to work that morning, they just saw everybody sitting around and talking. The jerks pulled out guns and started threatening people. Everybody rushed them, beat them up, took their guns, and that was when the party began!

_____Since then, things have been the loose and wild ways they are now--people running around, grabbing whatever they want and doing whatever! The chubby man had grabbed some cases of beer from a store and was having himself a good old time since then. Everyone else was just happy from smashing things and stealing stuff. He was just happy with his beer and not having to slave away at his loud, hot and dangerous factory job today.

_____Where was that Barabbas guy, anyway? He sure deserved an awful lot of thanks! Thinking this, the chubby man climbed to the roof of the car. Sitting there, he drank some more of his beer and watched the churning masses of fleshies and cyborgs, men and women, kids and adults all around…people doing everything else. He was going half-deaf from all the noise, but that was fine! What a party! And that was when he noticed the old guy--sitting atop another car across the street. Funny, he only saw that old guy once before… Then the tempo of violence and chaos blared even louder.

2.

_____Barabbas was actually right there in the crowd, being down and destructive with everyone else. The bulbous end of his metal cudgel wonked a square piece of machinery some people brought out into the street, and people around him cheered. He had found this metal cudgel from somewhere--a good cudgel. Yes, Barabbas firmly believed that proper participation in social upheaval and anarchy required a nice, reliable cudgel. Was it part of some factory machine? Was it some cyborg's left leg?

_____He paused his destruction just long enough to look over his cudgel--something in the shape of a short metal leg with the shredded remains of a rubbery foot at the end. Actually, this was part of an old Deckman's platform, one of many items "liberated" from a used parts store. Oh well! It just confirmed what Barabbas knew--how those robotic puppets of Zalem ended up. Spare parts, reusable junk sold in corner shops! As he swung the cudgel again, he suddenly had an idea. Maybe later, he would put the metal bodies of corporate enforcers in the same situation that old Deckmen were now: junk to be reused. Swish-clank!

_____There was an outburst of heat, sound and flying chunks of building wall--blasting out towards the street. All this screaming and chaos suddenly increased in pitch. Somehow, that was still possible--things getting louder. People were jostling and scrambling now as the disturbance became more violent. Hmm? Barabbas bothered to stop swinging his cudgel and looked over at the source of the trouble. Then he smiled. Ah yes, he thought, now the picture of madness is complete.

_____It was the Adversary, of course, making a typically grand appearance. It had busted its way trough an entire building to get to this street. Now it was here and swiping everyone and everything with that massive three-tined claw-hand. Pieces of cars and parts of cyborgs went flying everywhere, cars and looted machines were smashed, walls were obliterated and the degree of destruction was radically increasing. Instead of running in fear and dispersing, the appearance of the Adversary made for an upgrade to the furious frenzy. The Adversary's great claw-hand swept fleshies and cyborgs aside like wheat being harvested with a grand scythe of death. It was just more of the same: more chaos and violence.

_____"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!" Barabbas raised his cudgel to the smoky afternoon sky above, and his bellowing laugh exploded from his broad chest and out of his square-jawed mouth. It flowed over this crazy crowd and echoed among the buildings. This was the very core of chaos and anarchy now: all the heat, all the fury, with practically pointless and vicious violence all around as people destroyed things while some other people were being destroyed beyond any sort of reason beyond violence for violence. This was a crowd of people pushed to frenzy and violence by subtle as well as public and repeated messages about the people of the city were being enslaved to machines for the good of the wealthy, about how the Black Market was enslaving people just to benefit the evil wealthy. Weeks of repeatedly putting out that message was just the building up of combustible materials, and this riot was things finally getting on fire. Things were especially burning now--being smashed to bits and going up in flames! So e didn't care what the Adversary did to the people here. Smash, kill, destroy… So long as the Adversary was just contributing to the general madness, so much the better! People here were dying, but that failed to matter. Barabbas didn't care if half the local population was wiped out--so long as the fiery and dark swirling mass of violence and insanity spread!

_____Swish--CLANK! Suddenly, a grand and mighty tone of metal-on-metal echoed above the crowd, a thunderous peal of sound. It was like the ringing of a six-ton bell. And the sound resonated throughout the innards of everyone here, making them stop. What was that? People turned to see the astounding sight. Barabbas looked in that direction, frowning and wondering who stopped his celebration.

_____The Adversary was on its back, its chunky metal chest blasted open from the blow of a mighty hammer. That hammer-blow came from something that matched the Adversary in size and might, a metal beast ten feet tall and just about that wide. But unlike the grotesque shape of the Adversary, this new beast was silvery and wonderful, the torso a clean silvery tone--a golden L painted on its thick armored chest. It's mighty arms looked ready for battle--the right battle-arm ending in a fist and the left arm being a hammer. It stood on two jointed pillars of legs.

_____There was another one just like it standing next to it, a mirror reflection of the first. It was the same size, a grand figure of glowingly clean and shiny metal. The pillar legs and thick arms were jointed the same, and it even had a hammer-hand. But the hammer-hand was on its other arm. A huge golden R was on the chest of this one.

_____The one with the R brought up its hammer fist… Swish-CLANK! That hammer came back down, smashing right into the already ruined chest of the Adversary. Sparks and flames began to sputter up from the Adversary's blasted-open body. CLANK! Another resonating blow, and the flames sputtered down to a foul and oily smoke. The other silvery giant joined in, adding its blows to the destruction of the first--a steady beat.

_____ When the Adversary's chest was reduced to a mass of ruined metal, a pile of chunky junk, the silvery giants stopped their labor. The crowd stood there, now so silent that they could hear the wind and the sound of the two giants' thick joints articulating. They lowered their hammers, then sank to their knees. Something began to happen to the giants.

_____Bzzt-clank! The upper backs of both silvery giants took on a split--right where the spine would be. What, were they being destroyed? Were they damaged somehow? Then the halves opened up like doors, swinging outward and diagonally upward. Parts began to move inside…

_____Twin dark-haired girls climbed out of the backs, one on the left and the other on the right. Not girls, exactly… They were cyborgs, just like a lot of other people--their feminine bodies crafted of metal from neck to feet. Climbing up to the shoulders of the metal giants, they sat on the statue-like heads. Sitting there, they reached up and undid the big black rubber bands that had their hair pinned up--long dark hair that framed their pretty faces and flowed down their backs, down to their solid hips.

_____The twin cyborgs, they were beautiful... "Listen up, people!" shouted the one atop the left giant. "Can you hear me? Good!" Everyone now quiet, she was easily heard. Even the afternoon city winds seemed to have quieted down. "Now I'm going to tell you something about all the trouble that's been happening. You're going to feel betrayed and used, but it's for your own good."

_____"Guess what? Barabbas used you!" shouted the one on the right. "Here you all were, thinking he was a good guy and making you blame the Black Market for your problems. Yeah, he had you all going…right up 'till when the Adversary came to town. Then he started talking about how the Black Market couldn't keep you safe!"

_____"But the Black Market was doing its best to keep you safe all this time!" continued the twin on the left. "Any time you had problems with mutants or crazies, the people of the Black Market were there for you. A lot of the enforcer-people used to be bounty hunters. They don't take heads anymore, but they still keep trouble from happening!"

_____The twin on the right nodded in agreement with her sister. "Uh-huh! And what else? If Barabbas was here to help everyone out, why did he let the Adversary…continue to exist? If two farm-girls like us could come here, make some robot-suits, then smash up the Adversary, why didn't Barabbas try to do the same?"

_____"Again, he was using you guys!" shouted the twin on the left. "He wanted to make trouble so he could take you over just like he did a lot of farms. He wanted to overthrow the Black Market, then put himself in charge! Why else did he have other people talking for him and spreading his message all the time? Ever notice how they always showed up wherever the Adversary was, like they knew where it was going to be…ahead of time?"

_____"They were deliberately making the Adversary go to certain neighborhoods!" explained the twin on the right. "They used the Adversary to make the Black Market look bad. And they used it to get you on their side! Think about it!"

_____This made for murmurs throughout the crowd. Sitting up there--their voices clear and their voices so confident, so radiant--the people could not help but listen to what they were told. Could it be…? It was true, Barabbas had a lot of people working for him. And his people had guns: lots of strange guns they had never seen before. But every time Barabbas people attacked the Adversary, they always let it live. The Adversary was always left…alive… Why?

_____Why else! A short, muscular man shouted, "Those twins are right! Barabbas had all of those guns…but he never destroyed the monster!" Other people began shouting as well, agreeing with the sentiment. The tide had turned. Now they wanted that big man more than ever--but not in a good way this time. But where did he go?

3.

_____Tipping the wine bottle, he filled his glass again and stared at the red liquid through the slit-like space between his scarves--the ones wrapped around his face and head. There was something comfortingly beautiful here, how the late-afternoon sun slanted through the window behind his back and passed through his wineglass--almost glowing. When a person feels down and everything seems destined for doom, little things of beauty become noticeable. They are the little things that people take for granted, always, until it is too late.

_____That late afternoon faded into even later afternoon, everyone now off work for today… The rest of the bar was full of conversational buzz about what happened, the radio blaring a Black Market broadcast about the event.

_____Barabbas wasn't recognized because he was at a corner table with a scarf wrapped around his jaw and forehead. He didn't particularly want anyone to recognize him, especially given the talk that was floating around here. Kill him, said some people. Who did that jerk think he was, coming into the city and trying to turn everyone into his slaves? And hey, didn't the Black Market put a reward on him? Chop off his head and sell it!

_____The bottle of red wine atop this table was half-empty, getting emptier with every glass of it he consumed. He had been sitting here for about five hours now, just stewing in his own emotions. Bullocks, he thought. Just dash it all! Up went the glass of wine, into his mouth and down to his stomach. Not that Barabbas could actually become drunk, but just the act of drinking--an act of deliberate self-befuddlement--was something he just felt like doing now as he listened to the people talking and the radio blaring.

_____His plan was great…like a great engine, something carefully built over years. First he had constructed the parts of the casing--the ideology of his great plan. Then came the details, the moving parts when he actually put his plan into action. Every farm in the wasteland he had taken over, it was another aspect to the various systems of his great engine of a plan. Taking the city, that would have been the lowering of the upper half--the completion of his engine!

_____Kill him? Maybe he should have killed those young metal-bodied brats when he had the chance. He remembered the fight, remembered how he had almost defeated them. Why, they had almost no fighting skills at all save the most elementary strikes most children are taught to defend themselves. Those girls were children compared to him: children! Barabbas had been bested by two little girls…

_____He clenched his fists and looked at how the fine muscles of his heavy tan forearms tensed. He thought he was strong, just so strong… Barabbas thought he was strong enough to move this land, eventually move the world. One mighty man, standing tall and strong, was going to be the hero. This ruined, wasted world needed a hero to look up to: a man of strength and vision to bring it back to great. _____After all, it was the reason for his existence--the reason why he was made up in that floating city so far away from here. And he thought that since he had the transmitting link removed from his head, the link that kept his thoughts connected to Zalem, he thought he was free to pursue his purpose. Then those kids came along. He really should have killed them, back on that farm…

_____"Thank you, girls!" he said aloud, picturing the deceptively pretty faces of Harrah and Kyrie. Some people looked over at this table, noticing that there wasn't anyone for him to talk to. He didn't care. "I said, tha-a-ank you, girls! I'll love you…'til the end of the world!" Barabbas then raised the glass of red wine to his lips, the sunset-colored light from the window playing through the wine.

_____Fwip! He noticed a playing card land on the table. Curious, he put down the glass of wine and picked up the card. It looked like a perfectly ordinary card, nothing spectacular about it. Who put it here? And that was the last question that came to his chip-contained mind before there was a sharp, loud sound in the confines of this crowded place.

_____Everyone went silent and was looking over in this direction. Barabbas was wondering why they were looking at him. What? What did they want from him, staring at him so? He opened his mouth to speak, but there was only a hiss of static coming from his mouth. A spray of sparks spurted out from his chest right where his heart would have been. Would have been, that is, if he was human.

_____It would take more than one gunshot to kill him, if a person could use the word "kill" for a synthetic-bodied replicate. Barabbas was never really "alive" to begin with, but it was still hard to "kill" him. Smoke coming from his nose and open mouth, he just looked down at his broad, shirt-covered chest and saw some more sparks spurting.

_____Crack! Another shot hit this replicate, right around where the first round had hit. His mouth began to move and more smoke began to come out. But yet another gunshot came before he could try to form any more words. This the body slumped sideways and fell to the floor, spurts of liquid coolant and sparks spraying out from the damage, while dark smoke began to ripple up to the ceiling. It filled the air with the smell of burnt wires…

_____It was like a real-life painting--somehow given slight animation. Everyone was sitting or standing still in this bar, paused and looking at the dark-haired girl dressed in long-sleeved blouse and jeans, a small purse over her left shoulder, a gun in her right hand. People at tables around here had their heads turned in this direction. Over there, the bartender stood with a bottle in one hand and a towel in the other. The faintly black smoke hung close to the ceiling, and small gray wisps of smoke came up from the muzzle of the pistol.

_____"He didn't care about anybody but himself," said the young woman, her voice sounding loud. She stared at the partially scarf-covered face of the man she once cared about--or the replicate. "You know what? When, like, everything was happening…all of that noise and stuff… He left me! The crowd knocked me down and I got trampled! Then he laughed at me… He walked away!

_____"But guess what? I've got a synthetic body. My bones aren't real. They're metal, so they didn't break. My skin and stuff is fake too, so I didn't get cut or bruised. But if I was a real fleshie, I could've been stomped to death! And he just laughed… And laughed…" Her voice rose to a shrill scream. "He laughed at me while the crowd went crazy! The jerk!"

_____She raised the gun again, aimed it at the replicate known as Barabbas. Another squeeze of the trigger, and there was another crack of sound. The replicate's synthetic body twitched, but that was only from the impact of the bullet.

_____Everyone kept staring at her. As if unsure of what to do next, she shrugged and put the gun in her little purse. She turned, her left foot pivoting on a dark heel, and she stepped right on out of here--the door closing behind her. People looked at the body of the replicate as a person would look at a large and disgusting dead animal put in a living room.

_____"You did a good job, Mai," said the petite metal-type female cyborg, standing in front of the car. Like all enforcers of the Black Market, she was professionally dressed in dark clothes. She watched as Mai unsung the little purse and offered it. She shook her head. "No, you keep it. You deserve it. Besides, you'll probably need it to help keep you safe whenever we can't. We try to keep the city's people safe, but we can't be everywhere! Hmm…" She tilted her head to the side. "You know… My superiors are talking about more plans to bring back the bounty hunter program that existed under Zalem. They are even considering trying to fix the Deckmen that began to malfunction when Zalem had the accident. So, are you interested?"

_____"Eww-w-w! You mean… Like, chopping off criminals' heads and carrying them in a bag? Like, no thank you!" she said. All the same, she had accepted the cash reward--delivered to her apartment in a building nearby. It wouldn't be safe or practical for her, carrying a head-sized bag of credit chips around like that. It wasn't just for the money, but she needed it especially since she couldn't rely on that big jerk anymore--the jerk she had just killed. "Or uh… Well, like, can I get back to you with an answer? About the bounty hunter program you want to help get started?" She saw the female enforcer nod a yes. "Well, I suppose killing criminals and taking heads is probably better than working in a factory… "

_____Mai's voice trailed off into silence when there was suddenly a warm orange glow from somewhere behind her. The enforcer was also looking past her, at whatever there was to see. Oh no… It's that thing again, she thought. She could feel the heat of the flames.

_____Quivering, she turned to see the burning bus ambling along the street--all in flames--moving on its ever-melting tires. She and the enforcer stood perfectly still while the flaming vehicle went by. It came close enough to here that she could see the charred rims of the tires and feel the heat from the flames flickering on its boxy metal frame, her ears taking in the crackling of the fires.

_____It continued on by, going its way. She could just stand there, afraid and still. And she did not move again until the thing rounded a corner. She hoped it was the last time she had ever seen the burning bus.

4.

_____The twins were dressed to party--tight fitting pleather skirts that hugged the shape of hips and upper thighs, with synth-silk chemises that clung close to their chests and abdomens, leaving metal arms bare. Kyrie and Harrah were walking along this sidewalk, the buildings to the left and right being colored deep orange-red tones by the sunset. They were talking and laughing about what they saw some guy do at a party. It was just so ridiculous, the way people act sometimes! He was trying to do something with a cyborg, some kind of new dance, when she nearly broke his ankle. More exactly, he put his ankle right where her foot was going. An awkward fleshie trying to dance with a cyborg is never a good combination. And sometimes, it's just funny!

_____These two were having such a good time that they failed to notice certain…changes in their surroundings. There were a lot less people suddenly around. And when they stepped around one corner, there was nobody around--no one in sight, at least. There were no trucks or cars driving along the street. Some parked cars were by the sidewalk, parked in front of buildings. The buildings were dark and seemed to be empty.

_____Still, Kyrie and Harrah kept walking and laughing. They had such a good time at the party--having drank some of this and tried dancing to that while talking to people. Life in the city was finally beginning to feel good again. And then the twins saw Aikasa lying on the sidewalk.

_____Everything seemed to stop, the moment narrowing to that sight. She was lying on her back, sprawled out--her pleated synthetic silk skirt and white blouse torn in places. Her pale hair was spread out beneath her, with some lengths and strands across her too-pale face. She was very still, her special red scarf lying nearby…

_____"Aikasa!" they shouted simultaneously. There was no response. Moving fast and nearly tearing their semi-flexible skirts, the twins were soon kneeling on both sides of Aikasa's still body. Kyrie gently put two of her most sensitive metal fingertips to the side of Aikasa's throat and tried to feel for a pulse while Harrah knelt closer to the mouth and nose.

_____The wind blew… There was no heartbeat and no breathing. Sick with sudden misery, the twins slowly crawled back and sat down on the sidewalk--the dead body of their friend laying between them. Aikasa looked so small, so delicate. If they weren't sure of her age before, it seemed now that the pale-haired girl looked more like a child than ever--a lost and broken child. How she was dead or why… Those questions just didn't fit right now. She was just dead, and that was it--dead too long to be revived with a new body.

_____They turned their faces away from the darkly miserable sight. Tears filled their eyes and filled their vision. The sobs came next, choking and hurting. It just hurt too much, all of this… This was stupid and wrong. Was it that their friends were destined to simply die? Ritchie was their friend, dead. They heard that Duct was killed by the Adversary--and they destroyed the Adversary. Barabbas was gone, shot by his ex-girlfriend. Good riddance. But Aikasa's death did not belong in the balance of things!

_____An almost musical sigh filled the wind, a very familiar voice. The twins both turned their heads so fast that fine strands of machinery in their necks clicked audibly. It was an unbelievable sight, heartening and incredible. Aikasa took in a breath, her big pretty eyes open, and she sat up as if she had merely taken a nap--right there on the sidewalk.

_____Dumbstruck and shocked, the twins could just watch as the waif-thin, pale-haired girl stood up and turned around to face an alley. The winds of the sunset began to blow, carrying with it the beautiful sound of such a sweet melody… It seemed to be coming from Aikasa--from her throat and the small gill-slits in the sides of her neck. Yes, she was a mutant--too beautiful to be human.

_____As Aikasa began to step towards the dark space between the buildings, Harrah and Kyrie could not help but to stand up. Swaying slightly, their lips parted and eyes half-lidded, the twins took slow and shuffling steps towards the dark mouth of the alleyway. Beyond there was a darkness not lit by the blood-red sunset-colored tones of the dying day.

_____And they continued…into the darkness. Aikasa was ahead of them, an angelic and pale figure in the darkness. The texture of the concrete beneath their thin shoes changed every few steps, becoming rougher and slightly more cobbled in places. They stumbled in places but kept following… Following the dreamlike girl ahead, their minds wrapped in the music of her inhumanly beautiful voice.

_____As they went on, something happened. There was a wall of streaked yellow and orange haze ahead, making for a low eerie glow in the darkness. The colors looked somewhere between a combination of sunset and fire. Aikasa stepped through, the heat drafts of the fiery colors lifting some strands of her flaxen hair as she passed through. The twins followed suite, strands of their long silken dark hair fluttering. There was the sound of a door closing behind them, and they were somewhere else…

_____The twins looked around, as if there was anything else to see other than the sight in front of them. Other than the big spotlight-illuminated table, there was nothing visible: sheer black darkness all around--a darkness darker than the depths of the universe. It was almost dizzying to look into, how there was nothing but nothing.

_____Ahead of them was that big circular brown table, with a circular light fixture hanging above the polished wooden surface. They could not see the ceiling and had the idea that the ceiling was far up in the darkness--if there was a ceiling. "What is this place?" they asked simultaneously.

_____The people at the table did not answer immediately. Some of them were familiar, but some were strangers to the twins. Of course they recognized Aikasa from behind. She was sitting in the slatted wooden chair as so her silken moon-white hair was like a curtain of beauty flowing against her back. And they recognized the old stranger from the back of his coveralls and his odd shirt. Of course, he was shuffling a deck of cards.

_____Sitting opposite the old stranger, someone was doing the same--someone sitting as so the shadows beyond the light obscured his figure. Only his burned-looking hands were visible in the light and atop the table. Sitting next to the shadowy opponent was a petulant-looking girl that seemed to be something like Aikasa's sister--if Aikasa had a sister from Zalem. Yet the girl's blonde hair was curly. She had the circular Zalemite mark on her forehead, and she was putting on a nasty pout. But the third figure sitting opposite Aikasa and the old stranger… She should not be there at all; it was impossible.

_____The third person opposite Aikasa and the old stranger should not be here or anywhere. Her hair was a scarlet contrast to her skin, and her slim feminine body was draped in a white blouse and probably with white slacks to match. Her open lab-coat was smudged with red and stains in places… Her blood-red lips slowly spread into a smile--the kind of smile an ancient fairy-tale witch would give to children about to be eaten. She had no eyes, seemed to be staring with gaping sockets of darkness.

_____It was Dr. Sera… But Harrah and Kyrie, they were both Dr. Sera! The left half of the former scientist's brain was in Harrah's head, while the right half was in Kyrie's. Therefore, Dr. Sera should be gone. Gone! But there she was: sitting at the table, wearing a red-smudged lab-coat and smiling. It was a sight unsetting enough to almost make the twins turn and r-r-run.

_____"Please… Don't try to run away." said Aikasa, as if hearing their thoughts. She patted one of the two wooden seats to her left without twisting around on her seat to face them. "There is nowhere for you to run right now. Sorry to say, but I really mean that… Nowhere for you to run. Look around you. So just come sit down here and join us for this round of the game…which you were playing all along."

_____They heard the old stranger chuckle at the statement. "Heh-heh-heh… Oh I knew the words. I knew the words, but I sa-a-ang them wrong." He went back to shuffling his cards as he began to hum a tune of his own. Fwick-fwick-fwick-fwick-fwick…

_____Kyrie and Harrah sat down in the seats, looking at the unlikely trio across from them. The shadowy opponent continued to shuffle his own deck of cards. That, while the red-eyed Dr. Sera put a small basket of boiled eggs atop the table. She brought one of the eggs to her mouth and bit into it. Blood oozed out from the egg--a blood-filled egg…

_____"Well, don't expect me to introduce myself to you dirty little ground-people," said the little girl with curly hair. "You stupid, mush-for-brains, dirty little ground-dwellers… When I get back to Zalem, I'll make sure that big ugly city of yours pays for your lack of cooperation." She suddenly tilted back her head and screamed, "You broke my favorite toys!" The shadowy opponent made a sound like a growl, and the girl went quiet.

_____A girl? No, there was something not quite right about that girl with the blonde curls. Her movements seemed a little too quick and stiff. It was as if her voice belonged to something with batteries. There were other things too… And there was the mark on her forehead.

_____"She's synthetic," explained Aikasa. The synthetic girl crossed her arms and frowned while Aikasa continued. "She's a machine-child of Melchezedek--that dark computer that ruled the cities of the world. You see, to keep in charge even after it was killed, Melchezedek had a backup." Looking at the synthetic girl, Aikasa said in beautiful French, "L'enfant terrible…"

_____The old stranger and the shadowy opponent continued using cards against each other. Sometimes, the old stranger would lose cards to the shadowy opponent. And other times, the shadowy opponent growled whenever the old stranger won them. Harrah and Kyrie still tried to understand the rules, how some cards beat others. They still didn't get the rules, but they were getting a general idea of the game.

_____Aikasa gestured to the area of this table between the old stranger and the shadowy opponent. "This game just has one name, but it may as well be another name. And they aren't the only one's playing it. Games are played all the time; you probably just don't notice it right away. You two were in the game all this time and didn't know it."

_____"Heh-heh-heh," chuckled the old stranger when he won three cards in a row against the shadowy opponent. "I'll make you cry…like I do!" he declared, doing a final bit of card-shuffling. He then put two cards atop the table--side by side. It seemed that this round of the card game had begun.

_____In response, the shadowy opponent snarled, putting a card atop the table. It was a Queen of Spades. And that was probably the best card in his deck--probably the last significant card. He tried shuffling his deck some more, looked through his remaining cards, but put nothing down.

_____Aikasa put up her hands in a celebratory gesture. Her big eyes sparkled with glee. She then declared, "The rules of the game! Ha-ha-ha…" Her sweet and gentle laugh was like music, light and beautiful.

_____There was finally a rapid series of plays with minor numbered cards. Chuckling all the while, the old stranger put down some cards and the shadowy opponent growlingly put down others in response. The two kept this up for some time, with some cards going to the old stranger and some going to the shadowy opponent. It was a conversation in the form of card-plays…

_____When the conversation was over, there was no one else left at the table but three. Smiling a pretty smile, Aikasa delicately handled the deck of cards won by the old stranger. The shadowy opponent sat there growling and grumbling for some time. He finally slapped the table with his burned hands and then walked away--into the surrounding darkness of The Void.

_____There were games played, games always being played. And in such games, there were two sides. One side played with the cards available, while the other did the same. The rules always changed. The players were always changing as well. Still, games always happened. There would be other games for the shadowy opponent to play.

5.

_____"There it goes again," said the male cyborg sitting on the wooden crate--looking at the flaming vehicle weave its way through night-time city traffic. He drank some more of his canned juice. It tasted like cinnamon. "Whenever something big and bad happened around here, that's when I see it the most." He turned his head to the left. "I told you guys it was real."

_____There were two other male cyborgs dressed in work-coveralls, the kind worn at a factory. They could just look on, dumb-struck, as the burning bus maneuvered between cars and trucks. There it was--as real as anything else. Though bright yellow flames raged and roared from inside it and all over, the thing just kept driving along as if there was nothing wrong with it. They saw the vehicle go around that corner at the far end of this street.

_____Kyrie sat up on the hard and white-tiled floor, taking in deep breaths and exhaling. A slightly uncomfortable coating in the tube of her throat made her cough a little, and there was the aching remains of a severe headache--which was gone now. She looked to her left. Her twin sister was also sitting up and giving her a smile. She was okay, too.

_____"So we made it," said Harrah. Getting to her feet was a little troublesome; her pleather skirt binding the movement of her metal thighs. She then helped her sister up, and both straightened their outfits--skirt and chemise. The two were still dressed as they were before--dressed up for a party. It wasn't as if they were expecting a free trip to Zalem.

_____This place was clearly a control room of sorts. Not only was the floor white-tiled, but most all of the machinery consoles along the right side of this small room were generally slick and a hard white color as well--with bright fluorescent lighting in the similarly tiled ceiling. Even the chairs in front of the consoles were white and hard--straight-backed metal contrivances that looked hard and slightly painful for nuclear technicians of Zalem to sit in. The one doorway out was a thin black outline.

_____"Did we win the card game? Or did we lose?" asked Kyrie, her voice echoing in the brightly lit white machine-room. "I mean, if we have to do this, maybe we lost…" She looked at her sister. "I don't want to do this."

_____"Hey, it's not like we've got a choice, do we?" asked the other twin in response. She saw Kyrie walk over to the door and turn the silvery handle--taking a peek outside. And she quickly closed it again. "Yeah, those great big robots in the hall have got guns… We don't."

_____Closing her eyes and nodding, Kyrie agreed. This was the best they could do. They began to get to work. On the control consoles, most of the toggle switches were just numbered. But their main functions were clearly labeled: Magnetic Resonance Synchronization, Input-Output Collation, Coolant Systems… Some of the controls weren't on the console and were actually built into the wall-- attached to pipes. Those were white turn-valves that looked like small metal steering wheels.

_____First, the twins went to work on the controls on the consoles. Flick-flick-flick… It was easy to screw things up since everything really was so obviously labeled. Just flick up all of these heavy switches. Then flick down all of these other switches--the ones for the safeties. Yes, the twins turned off all the safeties. Little yellow and red-colored lights began to blink and flicker on the console.

_____They then went over to the manual valves at the wall to the right of the control consoles. Metal hands on the small metal turn-valves, they began to turn them closed. Sque-e-eak… Sque-e-eak… Sque-e-eak… It took many turns to close them, since the valves were meant for just little fine-adjustments. But the deed was done. A siren began to sound in this room, more sirens blaring outside and in the distance.

_____"No, no, no! Make it stop!" screamed the synthetic girl. She began to flick switches and began tapping commands into a keyboard. The consoles in this palace were just wired for remote and basic controlling, and the trouble was happening with the analog regulatory machinery of Fusion Generator Number 9. According to the data scrolling on one of her monitors, all the safeties were off: a list of systems that were listed as being off, off, off…

_____The only way that could have happened was if someone made it in to the control consoles of Fusion Generator Number 9. But the robotic sentries had detected no intruders. Someone had to have been there. Someone! Even if the cameras showed an empty room, there had to have been people there to flick the manual settings and turn the valves. The controls were an analog system, no actual electronics!

_____There was a scream from the synthetic girl's throat when one of the monitors displayed a circular graph too far in the red. Her scream was soon washed out in a glare that washed over everything--eliminating all. Everything was obliterated with a pure, glaring white-heat that vaporized everything in this room and obliterated Zalem.

_____Patrick's main pub was a little less crowded tonight. "So… That's what we dreamed happened to Zalem…again," said Kyrie. She drank some more of the citric-flavored juice from the glass. "Gosh, even if there was one replicate left up in that city, she should have been smart enough to switch the city over to some safer way of keeping electricity going and stuff. Hmm…" Gulp. "This is good lemonade."

_____"Yeah," agreed Harrah. She was drinking more of the same. "Anyway, that's probably why the Black Market techies and mechanics can't get any of the Deckmen to work at all anymore. They probably needed some kinda connection to the machines in Zalem to work. I don't know… Maybe to help control some of their computer-controlled insides? Something like that. Doesn't matter, 'cause those Deckmen-things always gave me the creeps… Ew."

_____Scotch drank some of his apple cider--synthetic apple-flavor, of course. He stopped drinking alcoholic beverages since it was impossible for him to get drunk…unless he could have someone tweak his artificial organs to allow the alcohol into the blood supply to his brain. The problem was, though the city's technicians and scientists now knew enough to manufacture synthetic flesh-type bodies, he didn't quite trust them with the workings of his body. The only time he went in to see doctors was when he had to--checking up on the status of his insides.

_____Right now, he was glad the girls were back. He thought they were gone, having left for six days. No one had seem them--not even where they were supposed to work. "I'm glad you two are here again. I really am." They smiled. The twins had such pretty smiles… "And I'm glad some crazy stuff is over, too."

_____"Oh yeah… Did we tell you we found out where the burning bus came from?" asked Harrah. "It was from a long time ago. You know, when scientists used to do experiments and stuff with space-engines. Some of those space machines…" Her words trailed off into silence as her eyes took on a far-of look. She was looking at someone sitting over at the drinking bar.

_____Her sister looked in the same direction. And she had the same reaction. Both felt a sort of shocking, sinking feeling of coldness inside. It was the kind of feeling that sapped a person's strength and made for that weak feeling in the knees: the feeling that means, Oh no…

_____Over there at the drinking bar, the thing that looked exactly like Dr. Sera was wearing a clean white lab-coat this time. She was over at the drinking bar, talking to Patrick the big pub-owner and easily laughing at whatever jokes he told--her laugh full and throaty, and she would occasionally give a sassy toss of her head of red hair--getting lengths of her hair away from her eyes. But no matter how many drinks she consumed, nothing seemed to affect her behavior.

_____She got up from her place at the bar walked over to this table. "Good evening, everyone!" she said, folding her hands primly in front of herself. "I didn't think that I would meet up with you all so soon. Too soon? Perhaps."

_____It took an effort for Harrah to speak--too afraid to ask. The presence of Dr. Sera here--or anywhere--was impossible. There were too many question running around in her mind. But one question made it out. "How are you…here?"

_____"Oh, don't be silly, girl," said Dr. Sera. "I got here the same way Aikasa did. And as you probably already know, we do not go where we are not invited. Anyway, the invitations are a great deal easier to fulfill since the way between here and the other place is easier to navigate."

_____"What do you mean by that?" asked Scotch, his own voice croaking with fear. He didn't exactly know what was going on here. But he definitely had the idea that something was happening. It was like the feeling he had when he saw the burning bus last week.

_____"What do I mean?" asked Dr. Sera rhetorically. "Or, how do I mean? Scotch, you're a reasonably intelligent fellow, and I take it that the girls have done explaining enough. I'm quite sure you can puzzle out an explanation of your own--perhaps with the assistance of your dual friends here, hmm?" She then stepped around the table and stood behind the twins--putting her hands atop their dark-haired heads, where their half-brains resided in their heads. "They may each only have half the brain power I possess, but they could very well be a match for me. Or have I said too much, too soon? Why, I have! Well, I must be going… I'll be seeing you, just as you'll be seeing me!" She then bent over and turned her head to the side, kissing Harrah on the right cheek and Kyrie on the left cheek. After patting them three times on the head, she turned to leave the pub--went out the door.

_____"Oh no…" said Harrah, looking at her sister. "She's, like, going to be so much trouble! If she's not on our side, then she's got to be working for that guy--making trouble. Remember that? The card game? I thought she was just there to scare us or something."

_____"What are you talking about?" asked Scotch. "You mean there really is another Dr. Sera? I thought you two used to be her? If her brain was split to make your minds, then who was that?" He leaned forward and squinted at them--as if he wasn't sure who he was looking at now. "Or maybe I should ask… Who are you? For all I know, you two could be the fakes. You know, with those Zalem brain-chips…"

_____The twins looked at each other, their hands still wrapped around their glasses of lemonade. That could be the truth. What if there really weren't brains inside of their heads? They stared into each other's dark eyes as if trying to see inside, trying to see if they had souls inside.

_____The sun was setting, making for sunset colors everywhere. People walked by on the sidewalks: cyborgs, fleshies, men and women… They walked by as the red-haired woman in the white lab-coat disappeared into the dark alley--swallowed up by the deep darkness. Some passers-by gave worried glances at the alley when some warm steam came pouring out from there, that lightless place between the rectangular buildings. Steam? Or was it smoke? It smelled like something burning. There was a flash of light, and a laugh echoed out while a playing card fluttered down to the sidewalk: a Queen of Spades. That laugh…did not belong to anyone from this world.