The Webrunner's Saga
Chapter 2: The Past Revisited
Jareth stared out of the reinforced portholes of the Webrunner, drumming his fingers against the glass in boredom. Outside, dense clouds of data swirled past. Any other ship would have been degraded or destroyed instantly, but the specially designed hull of the Webrunner ignored the brutal forces raging outside. So did Jareth.
"Are we there yet?"
"We are no closer to being 'there' then we were the last time you asked, you innane waste of memory," 308 responded coldly from his position atop one of the Webrunner's control consoles. The disembodied head's eye-screens glared at the Viral sprite from across the bridge. "If your feeble intellect enables you to perform such a complex function, do remind me to request that I never have to suffer standing watch alongside you again."
Jareth tuned him out, resisting the urge to use the mettalic head as a soccer ball. He stood from his seat. "I'm going to the galley for a snack. Can you watch alone for a while?"
Without waiting for 308's response, which was sure to be scathing and full of absurdly long words, Jareth exited the bridge.
* * *
When he entered the galley, he found that the rest of the crew was already there. AndrAIa, Matrix, Bob, Backslash, and Crash were having breakfast...or dinner, one tended to lose track of which meal was which when hurtling through the timeless Web. It didn't help that the only meal the Webrunner was capable of producing was a bowl of purple goo, supposedly highly nutritious, but almost completely flavorless.
Jareth wandered over to the dispenser and dialed up a bowl of goo, then sat down at the table.
"So how do you know Matrix?" Bob asked Crash, poking at his own "food" with his prefabricated plastic spoon.
"Matrix is it, now?" Crash asked. "He was still Enzo back when I first met him."
"I was still a little kid when you first met me," Matrix added.
* * *
The Past......
"Game Over....."
With a bang, the Game Cube shot up into the sky....without taking a large chunk of the city with it, much to the city's surprise. Binomes and Sprites flocked from all over, looking to see who had won the game.
There, in the center of where the Game Cube had been, stood three small Sprites: a girl wearing an outfit made of seashells, a small boy wearing Guardian armor, and a large yellow and red dog. The boy had his hand clutched to his face and seemed to be in a great deal of pain.
The small Guardian took a few steps forward, then collapsed.
"Enzo!" the girl rushed to his side, preventing him from hitting the ground. A few of the spectators rushed closer, but were cowed by the growling of the enormous dog and his enormous teeth.
"Stand back, back everyone!" A mature voice called. A tall, elderly Sprite stepped forward. The stereotypical scientist/doctor, he wore a white laboratory coat and sported a long white beard, but he seemed to exude a certain strong charisma anyway. He took a step towards Enzo, and even Frisket, it seemed, couldn't help trusting him.
"A Guardian....are you with him, miss...?"
"AndrAIa. My name's AndrAIa. Yes, I'm with Enzo. Is he going to be okay?"
"Enzo, is it? Hmm...." The man brushed the small Sprite's hair from his face. "Well, I'm afraid he'll never see out of this eye again. I can tell that much just from looking at it."
"Isn't there anything you can do?" AndrAIa asked.
"There may be....there may be. My name is Dr. Cyd. I'm the head of the Principal Office's Research and Development Team here in System Macromedia. As it happens, I've been working on a project lately that might just do the trick....But first, tell me, young lady....was it Enzo who won that game just now?"
The girl nodded.
"Excellent. Come with me, then, and we'll see what we can do."
* * *
Enzo groggily opened his eye, the world around him slowly coming into focus. He raised his hand to hs face, and found that his right eye had been covered with a heavy bandage. It didn't hurt anymore....but on that side, part of him felt horribly numb. Abruptly, he realized that others in the room were speaking. Quickly, he lay still, hoping that they hadn't yet realized he was awake.
"Are you sure he's an appropriate specimen for this experiment? He's only a child, after all, and we already have a subject--"
"I know what I'm doing," snapped another voice. "We made two prototypes, after all. It's best that we have subjects of different ages, in order to determine..."
"All right, all right. if you believe it's for the best, then go ahead and do it. But I don't approve of using children for this, Cyd. If the project sours, it'll mean your career."
There was the sound of a Vidwindow closing, followed by mumbled cursing. Footsteps approached, and the curtain surrounding Enzo's bed was pulled aside.
"Ah, you're awake! Excellent."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Dr. Cyd. And you are Guardian Enzo Matrix, of System Mainframe. Your friend told us all about you."
"AndrAIa? Where is she?"
"She's fine. She and the dog. They've been given quarters here in the Principal Office. But right now....right now I want to talk about you, Enzo."
"What do you want to know?" Enzo asked, a bit suspiciously.
"First of all, I want to congratulate you, Enzo, and to thank you. You won that game, and in doing so saved a number of the System's inhabitants."
"You're....welcome."
"Second....well, that's a bit more complicated. It's about your injury. AndrAIa told me your eye was injured in the game?"
Enzo nodded.
"The bad news, Enzo, is that your eye was severely damaged. It was beyond recovery, and the fact is, we had to remove it to prevent infection."
Enzo's jaw dropped.
"I apologize if this comes as a shock, but I will not lie to you, and I haven't the time for subtlety. You see, there is a project I have been working on, called the Metasprite Experiment. It involves the replacement of lost or damaged body parts with advanced cybernetic replacements."
"You can replace my eye?"
"Precisely. Your new eye will function as well as your old one, if not better. But we have a very small window of opportunity. If you wish this done, it must be done by tomorrow, or your eye socket will heal to such a degree--"
"How much will it cost?"
"There is no charge, as I said, you have done the System a great service in winning that game. We've had a number of those recently, and without a Guardian to defend us, the user has been winning. That was one of the driving forces behing the Metasprite Experiment, to create a team of specially trained champions to defend us from the games."
"I can't stay. I'd like to help, but I need to be getting home to Mainframe. There's this Virus--"
"Megabyte. Yes, so your friend advised us. However, I must inform you that there are no ports to the Net in this system. If you are to leave, you will have to go out the same way you came in: through the Games. There is a good chance that the games will drop you back into this System a number of times before carrying you on to the next, therefore even should you choose to leave, this System would still gain a temporary defender."
Enzo nodded, absorbing this.
"Well, Enzo, what is it to be? Do you wish to undergo the operation?"
Enzo swallowed, then nodded. "Do it."
* * *
Enzo lay on the table, staring nervously into the bright lights overhead. All around him, doctors and nurses hustled around, wheeling machinery in and out and generaly doing their best to make him nervous. AndrAIa had dropped in to see him, as had Frisket, but they hadn't been allowed to stay for the operation itself, so they wished him well and went off to wait in the lobby.
"Hey,"
Enzo nearly jumped off the table. He jerked his head to the side, almost dislodging his bandage...and saw another table, identical to his, upon which lay an adult sprite with ice-blue skin, spikey indigo hair, and a bandage over his left eye.
"Looks like you're here for the same reason I am," the Sprite said.
"Yeah. Guess so. You nervous?" Enzo asked.
"No."
"You lying?"
"Yep."
Enzo laughed. "I'm Enzo."
"Crash. Crash Burner. How'd you lose yours?"
Enzo briefly described his experience with Zaytan.
"Wow. Game accident."
"Yeah. Some Guardian I turned out to be."
"Not even a Guardian can win every time."
"Apparently not. What about you? How'd you lose your eye?"
"Well....."
The two were abruptly surrounded by medical personel. "We're ready to operate," Dr. Cyd said, appearing. "I'll be supervising everything, so don't worry about a thing." He placed a plastic mask over Enzo's mouth and nose. "Now, breathe deeply, and count backwards from ten."
"10.....9.....8......"
* * *
The Present......
A silvery sphere opened in front of Mainframe's principal Office, and two Sprites stepped out. One wore the traditional navy blue armor of a Guardian, her light blue skin complemented by her light brown hair. The other, obviously Viral, had green skin and wore a blue dress that constantly flowed about as though she was underwater. Her hair flowed the same way, mostly black but flashing turqouise when the light caught it just right. Her eyes were deep blue, peering out of a golden mask.
Phong trundled out to greet them. "Kit, Electra. Thank you for coming so quickly."
"No problem, Phong. What's the emergency?" Kit asked.
"Please follow me."
Phong turned about and led the two of them into the P.O. "Now, as you may know, the Webrunner was launched yesterday."
"Yeah, we saw the holoreports. Jareth was talking about it all second. He was dissappointed when I told him I wouldn't be here."
"Where's Backie?" Kit asked, looking around. "I thought he was supposed to be heading security during the unveiling."
"Backslash is on board the Webrunner, as are Jareth, Matrix, and Bob."
Kit and Electra both stopped in their tracks. "What?" they asked.
"The ship was launched prematurely, with all of them aboard." Phong stopped in front of a small door. "Open carroway," he said to it. The door slid open. "Follow me, please," Phong asked, entering the passage.
They followed him into a medium-sized hangar bay, in the center of which stood a medium sized ship that looked like a cross between an egg and a goldfish.
"Awww. it's cute," Electra said.
"This is The Chaser. It is made of the same substance and incorporates many of the same mechanisms as the Webrunner."
"You're going after them?"
"No, my child. YOU are."
"Sounds like fun," Electra said. "And Jareth's bound to get into trouble without me."
"I'll have to contact the Guardian collective and ask--"
"I have already spoken to Turbo, and he has granted you an extended leave of absence, as well as Bob and Backslash. None of you will be neglecting your duties."
Phong definitely seemed to have planned this out. "When do we leave?" Kit asked.
"Tomorrow, My child. I have one more small detail to arrange....."
* * *
"All alone I sit and wait, watching without rest
Dreaming of her fishy fins, and fondling her fishy--"
A small red light began flashing on the console, interrupting 308's recitation. His projected eyes narrows, and he remotely activated the main screen. On the large, hexagon-shaped vidwindow, the ravages of the Web could clearly be seen, but here there seemed to be something else, an occasion spark of red flashing through the data.
"Webrunner, stop."
"As you wish."
"Inform that pathetic excuse for a Virus that we're "there".
* * *
The Past.....
Enzo groggily sat up. His eye was still patched, but instead of numbness he now felt something very cold, something that occasionally seemed to vibrate or give him tiny electric shocks. Not enough to cause any actual pain, but definitely a sensation that would take some getting used to.
He glanced to the table beside him. There was a vase containing a bouquet of daisy wheels, star flowers, and prism blossoms, and a handmade card done in AndrAIa's handwriting. He smiled.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
Dr. Cyd entered the room. "Good morning, Enzo. How do you feel?"
"Fine. Well....a little strange, but--"
"That's to be expected." he brought out a small flashlight and shined it into Enzo's good eye. "No headaches? Dizzy spells?"
"No. Well, I just woke up."
"If you haven't felt them yet, then you probably won't. Excellent."
"Dr. Cyd? That other sprite, who had the operation..."
"Mr. Burner, yes?"
"How is he doing?"
"I was just about to go check on him. Would you like to accompany me?"
"I can do that?"
"I see no reason why you shouldn't. It wasn't your legs that got replaced."
Enzo jumped out of bed, quite lively for someone who had just awakened from a drugged stupor.
"Oh, and your friends have been clamoring incessantly to see you. Perhaps we should pay them a visit, as well," Dr. Cyd said, ushering Enzo out of the room and closing the door behind them.
* * *
The Present.....
"What's keeping him?" Kit asked, pacing back and forth along the catwalk of the Chaser's hangar bay.
Electra, laying down on thin air about three feet from the ground and filing her nails, merely shrugged. "He said he had a detail to attend to. Maybe he's still...I dunno....tending."
"Maybe."
"Now stop pacing before I ice you to the floor." Lecca returned to her nails. Filing her claws wasn't as time consuming a task as she would have liked it, as she had a grand total of six fingers, but she tried to stretch it out anyway.
Kit continued pacing. "I just hate waiting."
A sudden sound from the doorway starled them both, causing Kit to raise her keytool in defence and Electra to plummet those last three feet to the floor.
A mechanical construct had just wheeled into the room. It looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn't quite clear why; the machine had a vaguely triangular panel of glass atop it's head, thin, spiderlike fingers, wheels for legs and what appeared to be some sort of backpack.
Electra formed a glowing blue energy ball, preparing to hurl it at the construct.
"Wait, my child!" the machine said.
Phong strolled in behind the thing, wearing what appeared to be a VR helmet.
"Phong? What is this thing?" Kit asked.
Phong removed the helmet and the droid went limp. "This is something I've been working on for quite some time now. It is an android, one that can be controlled by use of this headset, no matter the distance."
Electra peered closely at it. "It kinda looks like you."
"Naturally, my child. I tried to give it my good looks. I have too many pressing duties here in Mainframe to go on any such journey in person, but with the help of this, I can accompany you and aid in your mission."
"Clever, I guess."
Phong replaced the helmet, and the android came back to life. "Thank you, my child." the voice came both from Phong and the Phong robot, with no delay between the two. The machine even mimicked Phong's actions and mannerisms perfectly.
"Come, then," Phong/Robot Phong said, Robot Phong wheeling up the ramp and into the ship. Phong himself exited the room; it wasn't quite clear how he directed Robot Phong's movement. Kit and Electra followed, boarding the Chaser and strapping themselves in.
Robot Phong rolled up to the pilot's seat and simply removed it, being completely unable to sit. He calmly placed the seat in the corner, then returned to the control panel and inserted a finger into on of the access ports on the panel. The triangular screen atop his head slid down before his face, characters flickering across it.
In repsonse to his commands, the hangar doors overhead opened, and the Chaser shot itself into the sky.
* * *
The 'crew' of the Webrunner gazed up at the hexagon-shaped viewscreen.
"The red flash we see occasionally is indicative of the presence of the energy Pattern we seek," 308 said.
"I still don't see how we'll ever be able to go to every address in the entire Net AND Web. There must be millions of them," Backslash said.
"Trillions, actually," the disembodied head corrected. "Fortunately, there is no need for us to travel to each and every location on the Net. The Pattern has the unusual property of traveling from areas of low concentration to areas of higher concentration."
"What?" Jareth asked, his mask an expression of puzzlement.
308 rolled his projected eyes. "Once we collect the big bits, all the smaller bits will come to us. Is that simple enough for you?"
"So...now that we're here....how do we actually collect the Pattern?" AndrAIa asked.
Everyone turned to stare at Jareth.
Jareth stared back. "What?"
"It's up to you, Jareth. You have to collect the pattern," Bob replied.
"Okay....and put it where?"
"One of your crystals will serve admirably, Jareth," the deep, soothing voice of the Webrunner intoned. "In fact, I have been working on a receptacle."
"A recepta-what?"
In response to the Virus' question, a small panel on the floor of the bridge slid open, and a four-sided pedestal emerged from the floor. At the top was a spherical indentation.
Jareth reached into his pocket and withdrew a small crystal orb. "How did you know about my crystals, anyway?" he asked the Webrunner.
"I have extensive files on each of you, with the exception of Mr. Burner."
"Call me Crash."
"Very well. Crash."
Jareth placed the crystal into the receptacle atop the pedestal. "Okay....now what?"
"You must employ a low-level gravimetric pulse to draw the Pattern from the surrounding area of the Web into the crystal," the massive silver ship replied.
".....?" Jareth somehow managed to ask.
"Once you start doing it, you'll understand how," The Webrunner assurred him.
"Ah. Okay, then," Jareth said, rubbing his mismatched hands together. "Here goes."
"While Jareth's working," Bob said, turning back to matrix and Crash. "Why not continue your story?"
"Well," Crash said. "Okay."
* * *
A shining, silvery sphere popped into existence in the sky above the small system, and the Chaser shot out of it, the portal closing once it was through.
"Where are we?" Kit asked.
"The System is called Macromedia," Phong replied, steering the oblong ship down for a landing. "The distress signal we recieved is originating from the Principal Office."
"I still say we should stick to our own mission," Electra said. "Someone else is bound to come along. Let them handle this."
"It may be too late by then, My Child."
"It may be too late now," Electra retorted.
"We have to at least check it out," Kit said.
Electra sighed. Not on the road a nano, and they had already been sidetracked.
The Guardian, Virus, and Android disembarked the small ship, re-sealing the hatch behind them.
Kit looked around, aghast. "This System has been...."
"Wasted?" Electra suggested.
Kit nodded, mouth hanging open. Most of the buildings had been ruduced to rubble, numerous tears filled the air, and all around them were empty hulls of what had once been other ships, but had crumbled due to time and neglect.
"Reminds me of the vidfiles of what Megaframe was like," Kit said. "Ruin everywhere, no signs of life."
"Then what do you call that?" Electra pointed.
From a nearby pile of rubble, something emerged, dragging itself towards the trio. It seemed to be alive, but so much of it's body had been mangled or replaced by mechanical devices that it was hard to tell what it once might have been. One of its arms was a large, rusted metal claw, and transparent tubes had been inserted into it's skin in several places, acting as external viens and arteries. There wasn't much left of it's head except for a small patch of fur and a single, living eye that seemed wild and confused.
"I.....I don't know what to call that," Kit replied. "Clip--Scanner."
The creature lurched towards them, and Electra raised her hands to blast it with a burst of frozen energy, but Kit stopped her.
"No, 'Lectra....that thing's a Sprite! Or at least....at least it used to be."
"What happened to it?" For 'it' was so far gone that its gender couldn't be determined.
"Not what, Kit said. "Who."
* * *
The Past.....
Enzo held the massive rifle in his comparitively small hands, admiring the way it glinted in the flourescent lights of the shooting range.
"They are nice, aren't they?" Crash asked, admiring his own double-barrelled shotgun.
"I'll say." Enzo twitched as his new eye beneath its bandage gave him a slight electrical shock. "Ow. How much longer did Dr. Cyd say this would be happening?"
"A few more seconds, that's all," Crash replied. "Yeah, it's starting to bug me, too. He said something about 'integrating with our nervous systems'. I say it's just annoyi....woah." Crash blinked repeatedly.
"What?" Enzo asked.
"I think mine just kicked in. I can see through the bandage." Crash turned, taking in the entire room. "And the walls, and the cieling, and the floor....awesome."
"Alphanumeric!" Enzo cried. "Hey....the eye should work in combination with the gun. Try it."
Crash obligingly levelled his shotgun at one of the targets on the far side of the room. For a moment there was silence....though Enzo could swear he heard a slight humming coming from Crash's head....then....
*BANG!*
The target for which Crash had been aiming simply exploded, flaming pieces falling to the ground.
"Nice," Crash commented. He haises a hand to his bandage. "Though it felt a bit strange...I think the eye actually swiveled in its socket."
"Oh, come on," Enzo said. "That's just ridiculous."
"Yeah, you're right."
Enzo turned his attention back to his gun. "The more advanced tricks require voice commands," he remembered. "We have to name them."
"I think I'll call mine 'Sword'."
Enzo stared cycloptically up at the older Sprite. "But...it's not a sword."
"Exactly."
Enzo shook his head. "You're a weird one, Crash."
* * *
Crash strode down the hall towards Dr. Cyd's office, intent on informing him that his new eye was finally functioning. Hopefully he could remove the bandage now and stop looking like some kind of demented pirate.
Upon hearing voices from the other side of the door, Crash froze, his knuckles inches from it's wooden surface.
"So how much longer?" asked a voice he didn't recognize.
"A few more millicycles, perhaps," came the voice of Dr. Cid. He sounded tired.
"And then?"
"And then I collect what is owed to me and move on," Cid snapped. "I know what you and Raid are planning, and I want no part of it."
The door opened.
"Crash," Dr. Cid sounded surprised. "Erm...may I introduce my colleague, Dr. Malware?"
Crash looked into the room beyond Dr. Cid. Standing behind him was a Sprite wearing a white coat identicle to Cid's, with a nametag that read Dr. Malware.
Unlike Cid, Malware was quite young. His hair was thick, black, and spikey, his skin a shade of deep purple. His eyes were a piercing emerald green.
Cid's charisma was such that one couldn't help trusting him. Malware's was just the opposite: he seemed to exude an aura of deciept. Crash instantly felt nervous.
"Nice to meet you," he lied.
"And a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Burner," Malware said, smiling a poisonous smile. "I've been working with Dr. Cid on the Metasprite project for quite some time."
"And your contribution has been invaluable," Cid said, with the perfect amount of sarcasm in his voice. Just enough to convey the feeling, not enough to actually get offended at.
Malware's smile faltered slightly. "So, Crash," he finally said. "How are you feeling?"
"Actually, that's what I came to tell you about, Doc," Crash remembered, turning back to Cid. "My eye is working. I can see everything, even through the bandage."
"Really?" Cid brightened, taking an immediate interest. "No painful glare, no extreme brightness?"
"Umm...no."
"Then by all means, get rid of that ridiculous eyepatch."
* * *
The present....
Kit ran, Electra flew and Phong rolled at full speed, racing down the streets of Multimedia.
Electra stopped as she passed the entrance to a house that was still standing. "in here!" she said, soaring in through the door. Kit screeched to a halt, doubling back, and as soon as Phong rolled in, she slammed the door.
"Man, there are a lot of those things," the Virus said.
"Sprites," Kit corrected. "Those things are Sprites. Or at least they were."
"Yeah, well, they're not anymore. And if they are, they're not very friendly."
"Clip--Scanner." Leaning against the door, Kit examined the readings from her Keytool. "They''re some sort of cyborgs...It's weird, though...some of the parts are extremely sophisticated, but others are pretty much scrap. It's like the one who built them ran out of parts halfway through and had to improvise."
"Can they be reasoned with?" Phong asked.
"Nah-uh. Not a one of them still has a complete brain."
"So, essentially, we're being attacked by a ravenous swarm of insane cyborgs, who, by all indications, want to tear us limb from limb?" Electra asked.
"Yup."
"And you won't let me blast them, because....?"
A heavy, rusted blade broke through the wooden door, inches to the left of Kit's ear.
"Umm," Kit said. "I can't remember."
"Who are you?" a voice asked from behind them.
They spun around to see who had spoken. A humanoid Sprite stood in the shadows. It was too dark to make out any of his features, the only indication as to where he actually was was a single, glowing, blood-red eye that shone out at them.
"Umm..."
"I'm Electra. Who the hell are you?"
Kit shot a sidelong glare at her.
"I am...myself." The speaker stepped forward into the light.
He was a male Sprite, tall and thin. He was wearing what appeared to be a torn, tattered lab coat, stained with blood and with both sleeves torn off, revealing a pair of skeletal biomechanical arms. The entire right side of his head was made of metal, the hair on that side made of brushlike copper wire, his eye a sphere of glowing red crystal held in place by four tiny, curved metal spikes. The right leg of his pants was torn away, revealing a crude leg of metal, wires and tubes running along its length. His voice was almost completely impassive, free of inflection.
"I am Kit Maxel, Guardian 626 of the Supercomputer. What's your name?"
"Name?" The cyborg seemed to lose sight of them, his emerald green organic eye becoming distant, his cybernetic eye whirring as it focused on an imaginary faraway object. "My name was.... is... Malware." A smile tugged briefly at the corner of his lips. "I had almost forgotten."
"What happened here?" Phong asked.
The smile faded. "Packard happened."
"Who's Packard?" Kit inquired.
"Packard is an insane doctor. He has systematically converted everyone in this system into grotesque cyborgs."
"Why?"
"He believes himself to be benevolent," Malware said, passion entering his voice for the first time. Passion, tinged with hatred. "He operates for the slightest scratch, replacing limbs which do not need to be replaced, and doing more damage in the process. His 'patients' inevitably become more machine than Sprite. I am the only one in the System, apart from Packard himself, who is even capable of speech anymore." Malware looked down at his metal hands, clenching them into fists and closing his organic eye tightly.
Kit consulted her keytool. "He still has 68% of his brain intact," she reported. "None of the others has more than 17%."
"How did Packard come into power, my son?" Phong asked. "And what was this place like before?"
"I..." Malware shook his head. "I do not remember. I can barely remember anything...of who I was....of what anything was." He looked Kit in the eyes. "I recall having hated Packard even before...whatever happened...though I do not remember why."
Another rusty blade broke through the rotting wooden door.
Electra sighed testily and raised a hand towards it, reinforcing the door with a thick layer of solid ice. "So why are these things attacking us?"
"They no longer have minds," Malware said. "But they have programming. Packard has set up a distress beacon to lure other Sprites to this System. Once here, the cyborgs are to capture them and bring them to him. He will then 'help' them. In this manner he hopes to bring his twisted brand of compassion to the entire Net, in time."
"So now what do we do?"
"You seem capable. Perhaps you are the help I have been waiting for."
"Help, nothing. I say we torch this place and go home," Electra said.
"At the very least, we have to red-flag this System as a Netwide hazard," Kit said.
"Please, stay and lend your assistance," Malware implored. "With your help, we can eliminate the hazard entirely."
"What are you proposing?" Phong asked.
"I propose that we break into the Principal Office where Packard resides, disable the distress beacon," and here Malware's voice darkened signifigantly, "and erase Packard."
"Well, I don't know about the 'Erase Packard' part," Kit said. "But disabling the beacon we can do."
"Packard would simply rebuild it," Malware said. "In any case, you need not lay a hand on Packard. It will be my pleasure to tend to that myself."
Kit and Phong exchanged a wary glance.
* * *
The Past...
"Who's Raid?" Crash asked later, as Dr. Cid examined his now uncovered golden eye through a magnifying lens.
"Hmm? Oh," Cid said, suddenly seeming flustered. "Raid is the Command.Com of Multimedia. Blustering old man. Likes to have his way."
"That bad?" Enzo asked from the next table over, awaiting his turn under the magnifier.
"I went to school with him. Never could stand the man. Delusions of granduer."
The doctor moved on to inspect Enzo, who's eye had kicked in moments afer Crash had left the room to inform Cid about his own bionic implant.
"I take it you overheard part of my conversation with Dr. Malware."
"The ASCII end of it, yeah. So...what are Malware and Raid planning?"
Dr. Cid sighed. "I suppose you have a right to know. Raid has, as I said, delusions of granduer. He wishes to rule more than Multimedia. Net conquest and all that. How he intends to manage that without ports to the Net, I'll never know. Not the brightest, Raid. Anyway, this morning I learned that he wishes to utilize the Metasprite project to create not simply defenders of the System, but an army with which he can invade other Systems."
Cid sighed, glancing back at the rear wall of the examination room, which was a rack covered with experimental biomechanical replacement limbs and organs. "Had I known my work would be used for such purposes, I'd never have accepted this job."
"But then we'd both be half blind," Crash said. "So some good, at least, did come of this."
"Yes, that's true. At any rate, I've turned in my notice. Once I've been paid for my services, I'm quitting the research team." Cid tapped the side of his head. "Some of our work is documented, but most of it's right here. Project Metasprite will fall flat on its face without me, and good riddance."
With that, Dr. Cid turned back to the other operating table that stood behind him, replacing the magnifier into the slot at the side, alongside a number of other surgical tools. "It gives me great pleasure to pronounce the procedure to be a complete success. Both of your new eyes have fully integrated with your nervous systems, and will, barring anything stupid, serve you well for the remainder of your lives."
"Just what I was waiting to hear," came a voice from behind the doctor.
Dr. Cid spun around as the air shimmered with the distinct stigma of a hidden file command being deactivated, and Dr. Malware stood behind him, along with a pair of heavily armed security Sprites and a floating screen of some kind, which displayed the face of an elderly, pompous-looking green Sprite.
"Raid." Cid said, looking at the screen. "Dr. Malware. So good to see you both."
"Spare me the plattitudes, Cid," Raid spat from the screen. "Delusions of granduer, is it?" Cid crossed his arms, not flinching.
"Take him away," Malware ordered, looking as though Christmas had come early. The security Sprites stepped forward and grasped Cid.
"What, if I may ask, is the charge?" Cid asked politely.
"oh, I'll think of something," Raid said, negligently waving his hand. "You said you were quitting the project, and that it would fall on it's face without you? I believe that constitutes conspiracy to sabotauge a government project, wouldn't you agree, Dr. Malware?"
"Oh, absolutely."
"And you think we're just going to let you arrest him on some trumped up charge?" Enzo demanded, as the Sprites led Cid out the door. Raid's screen followed, his taunts continuing until they were cut off as the door closed.
"YOU have little say in the matter," Malware said cruelly. He made the slightest motion with his foot, pressing a tiny button set into the floor. Immediately, the tables on which Crash and Enzo sat sprang upright, and would have thrown them forward if not for the leather straps that appeared, binding them to the flat surfaces.
"Some of our patients can get a bit...uncooperative," Malware said, grinning. "So these tablets were created. Handy, wouldn't you agree?"
"Why are you doing this?" Enzo asked, struggling against the bonds.
"Well, for starters, we can't have you helping the old fool, can we?" Malware nodded his head at the door through which Cid had been dragged. "And of course we aren't just going to let over six million units' worth of research and developement walk away. That's just absurd. A waste of resources. And then there's the fact that I'm getting paid an absurd amount for this."
Malware tilted his head, considering. "But mostly," he said, "I think it's the fact that Dr. Cid's name is going to be discredited, and I'll get all the glory for heading the Metasprite Project. Richly deserved, of course. Everyone's always given that old fool entirely too much credit, it's about time I got some."
"So, what? You think we're just going to snap to a salute, and agree to help you invade other Systems?"
"Not bloody likely," Crash said, glaring.
"Well, yes, actually, you will." Malware removed a small object from his pocket and tossed it into the air, catching it deftly. "You'll just ned a bit of...convincing."
* * *
The Present...
It wasn't difficult to escape Malware's house. Phong and Malware himself simply walked (or rolled, in the android's case) right out the front door. The cyborgs had no interest in capturing another cyborg, nor was it in their programming to capture something made completely of machinery.
As for Kit and Electra, Malware showed them to the roof, where Electra and Kit took off and flew, Kit using her Keytool as a small helicoptor, towards the Principal Office.
Once there, Electra created another wall of ice to keep the maurading cyborgs at bay while the others approached the thick, heavy door of the P.O.
Malware raised his mechanical right arm. As they watched, the casing of his forearm opened, and his hand swiveled down and back. Attached to the back of his wrist was a short rod, and as soon as his hand was entirely inside his forearm, the casing snapped shut and the rod snapped sideways, so that it was attached to his arm at a right angle. As the rod telescoped down to twice its length, Malware gripped the extended portion with his other metal hand, and a blade of energy sprang forth from the other end.
"You have an energysaber built into your arm?" Kit asked.
"I have been planning this endeavor for some time. In preparation I have upgraded the limbs that Packard gave me."
"I see," the Guardian said.
Using the saber, Malware carved a semicircular door into the solid wall of the principal Office. Once the cutting was done, he Spun and gave the cut portion a solid kick with his flimsy-looking, but evidently quite sturdy, metal leg. The loosened chunk fell inwards with a crash.
Oddly enough, there was no functioning security system....unless one counted the sickening stench that permeated the building.
"ugh," Electra ughed. "What IS that?"
"It is the smell of rotting flesh," Malware replied flatly. "The decomposition of limbs and parts Packard has discarded."
"I'm beginning to think this guy has the right idea," Electra said, glancing at Phong. "This 'Packard' is one twisted individual. And that's coming from ME."
Phong said nothing, he simply kept pace alongside them as they ventured deeper into the P.O. They soon came to a junction.
"I will go this way, and meet you back here when I am finished. Ignore anything you may hear." The cyborg pointed down another hall. "You will find the machinery for the beacon down that hall," he said. "It is where the System's Primary Communications Room is located."
"How do you know?" Electra asked.
"I...do not know. I remember the layout of the Principal Office. It is likely that I spent a great deal of time here, before."
He didn't say before what exactly, but then, it was fairly obvious. Before Packard had hacked off his limbs, gouged out his brain...Kit shuddered involuntarily as she, Electra, and Phong ventured down the hall Malware had indicated.
Malware continued down the other hall, presumably towards Packard's lair, intent on deleting him....and Kit couldn't quite blame him.
* * *
The Past.....
"Now hold still young Guardian," Dr. Malware said sneeringly, knowing full well that Enzo could do nothing BUT hold still.
"What IS that thing?" Enzo asked, trying to sound brave.
"oh, this?" Malware held up the device in his hand. It was small and flat, with a curve to it that suggested that it was meant to attach to something round. "I haven't exactly named it yet. Just a little something the Command.Com had me whip up. Something to ensure the loyalty of our new bionic soldiers."
"What's it do? Shock us if we get out of line?" Crash asked.
"Oh, nothing so crude," Malware answered. "You see, once this little gadget was worked its magic, you'll never WANT to get out of line. What this device does," he said, as he strode towards the panel to which Enzo was strapped, "Is to search out and delete all memory engrams not related to order and function."
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning, once I'm done here, you'll be blank. No one. All of your memories, save those of how to walk, talk, et cetera, will be deleted. And we'll fill the space they used to occupy with useful bits of knowledge. How to fight, who you answer to, that sort of thing. You'll become the perfect soldiers."
Enzo's eyes widened, and Crash strugled against the straps that held him to the tablet.
"Now now, Mr. Burner. Do be careful. We wouldn't want you damaging yourself." Malware leaned forward and smiled at him. "You were expensive."
Malware turned back to Enzo and attached the device to the side of the small Sprite's head.
Enzo tried to dislodge the object by brushing the side of his head against the panel, but it seemed to be stuck fast.
"Now, then...any last words?"
"yes! Why don't you--"
"I'm sorry, that's all the time we have," Malware cut him off, reaching forward and pressing a small red button on the device.
Enzo screwed his eyes shut, determined to hold onto his memories, but he could feel the device functioning, like invisible fingers feeling their way through his brain.
There was a loud crash from outside the thick, stainless steel double doors. Malware glanced up sharply.
Tapping his combadge, Malware growled, "Security!"
No answer. Malware cursed.
The doors slid open, and a massive red-and-yellow dog leapt into the room.
The two guards who had been standing outside the door feel into the room also, both unconscious, marks from AndrAIa's spines on their faces.
The aforementioned Gamesprite walked into the rom, arm-mounted crossbow aimed at Malware.
"You get away from Enzo!" she cried.
"AndrAIa! Get me out of this!"
AndrAIa glanced at Enzo, then looked down at Frisket. "Keep an eye on him, Frisket."
Frisket growled an affirmative as AndrAIa walked over to the panels and began unfastening the leather straps that held Enzo and Crash in place.
Malware scowled and started towards her, but Frisket growled more loudly and the doctor froze. "This is a resricted level! How did you get here without clearance?" he demanded.
"oh, they had clearance," came another voice. "Mine."
Malware's eyes widened as Dr. Cid stepped calmly into the room. "You! What are you doing back here?"
"Well, it seems that these young Sprites grew tired of not being allowed to leave their rooms, so they...ahem....disabled...the guards stationed to watch them and freed me from my cell, on the assumption that I would lead them to Enzo, which I then happily did. Enzo, are you all right?" Cid asked.
"I am now," Enzo replied, reaching up and removing the device from his head. Letting it fall to the floor, he brought his boot down on the contraption, crushing it with a satisfying smash.
"No!" Malware said. "Do you know how long that took to construct?"
"What do we do now?" Crash asked, rubbing his wrists where the leather straps had chafed them. "We can't exactly turn him in to the authorities. Malware's working for Raid himself. Any minute now, we'll have the entire System after us."
"The only way out of this System is through the Games. But there's no way of telling when or where one might fall," AndrAIa said.
"Actually," Dr. Cid said. "This system has a Game Forcasting service."
"You're kidding me," Enzo said.
"Not at all. It's quite accurate. I should know, I designed it."
"When's the next Game scheduled to fall?" AndrAIa asked.
"Today, as it happens." Dr. Cid checked his wrist chronometer. "Can you bring up a System map?"
"Glitch--System scan." Enzo held up the broken Keytool, which was nonetheless capable of producing a holographic map of Multimedia.
"The game should fall here," Cid said, pointing to a square on the map, which promptly lit up red, as opposed to the rest of the map, which was green. "Ah...thank you, Glitch. If you leave now, you should be able to make it there before the Game falls."
"We?" Enzo asked. "Aren't you coming?"
"I'm afraid not. I can hardly go into Game Sprite mode like you three, can I? No, I'm afraid I'll have to stay here and face the music for my actions. But I WILL come along and see you off."
"Me, too," Crash said.
"We can't just leave you here," the Guardian said.
"Oh, I'm afraid you must. I already have to devise some way of getting Mr. Burner out of the System. I'm certainly not going to let Raid get his hands on my work, not when I at least have a way of sending some of it beyond his grasp."
Enzo frowned.
The sound of a blaster powering up effectively brought the conversation to a halt. The Sprites turned to see Malware, a tiny holdout blaster in his hand, aimed squarely at Dr. Cid's head.
"I'm afraid none of you are going anywhere. Multimedia has spent a lot of money on you two, and no disgruntled FORMER employee is going to throw it--"
Malware's reflexes were no match for Enzo's. With a quick blast from GUn, the holdout blaster went flying, leaving Malware clutching his scorched hand.
Dr. Cid said nothing. He simply gave Malware a dismal look and a deep, disappointed sigh.
Malware couldn't bear that. He screamed and lunged at Cid, knocking him to the ground. At the same time, AndrAIa fired a bolt from her crossbow into his arm. The force of the bolt sent Malware spinning, throwing him off balance and causing him to fall over, knocking his head against the wall of the room. The doctor was instantly knocked unconscious.
Cid, meanwhile, feel to the ground, his head striking the floor near Enzo's feet. Sparks instantly flew from beneath his head, and the doctor let out a scream, clutching at the side of his face that had struck the ground. Arcs of lightning coursed over him, as though he were being electrocuted, then he fell silent, out cold.
"Dr. Cid!"
Red lights began to flash overhead, and a shrill siren split the air.
"No time," Crash said. "We've got to get going."
"But--" Enzo began.
"No time," Crash interrupted again.
"But--"
"No time for that either. Come on!"
With that, Crash ushered the two small Sprites out the door, Frisket follwing close on their heels.
* * *
The Present...
Malware strode into the room, the sound of his leather shoe against the floor contrasting sharply with the sound of his large, flat steel foot. He turned his head slowly, scanning the room, literally and figuratively. Through his red bionic eye, a single organic form stood out against the darkness, bent over a table, assembling yet another twisted cyborg.
"Packard," he said.
The figure looked up, startled. "Yes? Can I help you?"
Malware took several angry steps forward, until only the table and the grotesque creature strapped to it stood between him and the mad doctor.
"I'm afraid I'm rather busy just now," Packard said, not showing half the fear a sane person would show when confronted by an angry cyborg. Up close, it was obvious just how insane the doctor was. He had ignored hygiene altogether. His white beard and hair had grown to obscene lengths, with many snarls and tangles, and his body odor was so severe it overpowered the stench of rotting flesh that arose from the nearby pile of discarded limbs. On his temple, a terrible scar was visible beneath the filth that coated him. His chin was sticky with drool, and his eyes had a wide, wild look. His bloodstained laboratory coat was so filthy it was hard to believe that it had once been white, and his nametag was on upside-down.
"If you could make an appointment with the nurse," Packard continued, oblivious to the angry stare he was recieving, "I'll be right with you as soon as--"
With a single swipe of his powerful mechanical arms, Malware knocked the mangled body off the table, then, ignoring that it was bolted to the floor, he lifted the table and tossed it aside.
"You have done quite enough."
Packard tilted his head to the side. "Yes...yes, I remember you." Packard giggled. "I never forget a patient. You were the first one I helped. I remember it well...."
* * *
The Past....
The Sprite on the floor twitched, rising to a sitting position and shaking his head. Where was he? Who was he? He looked down at himself. Hmm. White coat. Nametag. Ah! Nametag. There was something strange about the letters, though he couldn't quite figure out what it was. The tag read 'piC .rD'. Picard? Packard? Packard. Well, if that's what his name tag said, that must have been his name. What cruel parents he must have had.
With a chuckle, he realize that he was wearing the name tag upside-down. Anyone facing him trying to read it would have read 'Dr. Cid'. How absurd. Giggling, he righted the tag. There. Much better.
A small object lay on the ground, sparking. He looked at it strangely....it lay on the ground in exactly the same place his head had been, almost as though he had fallen on it. Bringing his hand to the side of his head, he felt a dull, throbbing pain, and the texture was almost certainly severe scar tissue. How peculiar.
Rising unsteadily to his feet, Packard looked around. There was the body of a Sprite lying on the ground, with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his arm.
Well, couldn't have that. It could get infected, and the poor man was losing lots of blood. With some effort, Packard picked up the Sprite and placed him onto an operating table.
Raising the surgical rotary saw, he severed the Sprite's arm at the shoulder. There. No more crossbow bolt....oops. He'd taken the wrong arm. Oh, well....easily fixed. Another run with the saw and the correct amputation had been made. Turning to the wall behind him, he selected a pair of biomechanical arms and began to fit them to the patient.
Not long after one of the arms had been attached, the patient began to stir. Uh-oh...if he woke up now, he'd cause a fuss. Might dislodge the arm. Bending down and siezing a piece of heavy equiptment from the side of the table, Packard gave the patient a solid blow to the head, and he fell still again. There. Much better. Oops....the blow had peeled back some of the skin from the skull. Energy was running down the patient's face into his eye.
Well, he couldn't see with blood in his eye. Picking up a surgical tool and removing the non-working eye, Packard began fitting the patient for a biomechanical eye as well. As he was retrieving the new eye from the wall of parts, his eyes fell upon two more Sprites, these ones wearing security uniforms, lying by the door. From the looks of things, they had been injured.
Packard sighed. So many people to help, so little time.
* * *
The Present...
"So, then have you come for a checkup? So few of my patients do. It's quite important, you know, getting regular checkups." Packard rambled.
"I have not come for a checkup."
"Well, so long as you're here, let's have one anyway." the mad doctor held up a reflex mallet. "This won't hurt a bit."
Malware raised his arms. As before, the casing of his forearms snapped open, and his hands rotated away, other objects emerging from his wrists. His left arm bore a circular saw, and his right some sort of crushing claw.
"Oh, yes," the cyborg said, still in a completely impassive voice. "I'm afraid it will."
* * *
Kit flinched as a shrill scream echoed throughout the building.
"Ignore it," Electra said. "We've got a job of your own to do."
Kit nodded. "What's the best way to stop the signal?"
Phong rolled forward, his screen falling from the top of his head and snapping into flace in front of his face. He inserted his finger into the approprite jack on the communications console. "The System is passworded. I believe our most expedient course of action would be to...well....destroy it."
Electra switched to a grin. "Then stand back."
Kit took a step back, and Phong hastily put his wheels in reverse.
Once they were a clear distance away, Electra raised her hands.
Her long, turqouise-black hair slurped back into her head like thin spaghetti, stiffening into a layer of short, sharp thorns. From the sides of her head grew a pair of curved, swept-back horns, and her dress shortened into a skirt, revealing the black leggings she wore underneath. Her three-fingered hands became talons, and her toes did likewise. Finally, sharp blades emerged from her forearms and shins as she completed her transition into what Jareth called 'Hyde-Mode'.
The control panel never stood a chance.
* * *
Some of the bloodstains on Malware's torn laboratory coat were fresh.
"Did you destroy the beacon?"
"Yes," Phong replied. "Did you....complete your business?"
"Yes," Malware replied.
"So....now what?" Kit asked.
"You can return to your ship," Malware said. "The cyborgs will not have touched it, they have no programming regarding vessels."
"That explains all those abandoned ships in the harbor," Electra said.
"I meant, what about you?"
Malware paused. "I have not given the matter much thought."
"Why don't you come with us?" Kit asked.
Electra grabbed her by the shoulder. "Are you NUTS?" she hissed. "You're inviting a murderous cyborg to share a bunk with us?"
Malware gazed levelly at them. "I am a murderer, yes. But I bear no ill will to any of you. There is nothing left for me....for anyone....here. Nothing but filth and decay." He looked down at his mechanical hands. "I've never cared for this particular pair of hands, but if you think they will be of any help, then I gladly offer their service."
"Then welcome to the team," Kit said.
Electra shook her head. "I just KNOW this is a bad idea."
* * *
"There. That's it," Jareth said, looking down at the crystal sphere that sat on the pedestal before him. eneath its flawless surface now beat a steady pulse of crimson light: the fragment of the Pattern.
"Not much to look at," Matrix said. "it's hard to believe this thing is such a powerful weapon."
"It might not BE a weapon," AndrAIa said. "We'll have to wait and see, once we have it all."
"I will begin plotting our course for the next fragment," 308's disembodied head said curtly.
"You know, I wonder whatever became of Dr. Cid," Crash said curiously. "Do you think that shock, or whatever it was, did him in?"
"Nah," Matrix said. "I'm sure he's fine."
"What makes you say that?" Bob asked.
Matrix shrugged. "Just a feeling."
"Course plotted," 308 reported.
"If everyone will take their seats," Webrunner said smoothly, and as soon as everyone had, the ship sped off throughout the depths of the Web, en route once again.
Chapter 2: The Past Revisited
Jareth stared out of the reinforced portholes of the Webrunner, drumming his fingers against the glass in boredom. Outside, dense clouds of data swirled past. Any other ship would have been degraded or destroyed instantly, but the specially designed hull of the Webrunner ignored the brutal forces raging outside. So did Jareth.
"Are we there yet?"
"We are no closer to being 'there' then we were the last time you asked, you innane waste of memory," 308 responded coldly from his position atop one of the Webrunner's control consoles. The disembodied head's eye-screens glared at the Viral sprite from across the bridge. "If your feeble intellect enables you to perform such a complex function, do remind me to request that I never have to suffer standing watch alongside you again."
Jareth tuned him out, resisting the urge to use the mettalic head as a soccer ball. He stood from his seat. "I'm going to the galley for a snack. Can you watch alone for a while?"
Without waiting for 308's response, which was sure to be scathing and full of absurdly long words, Jareth exited the bridge.
* * *
When he entered the galley, he found that the rest of the crew was already there. AndrAIa, Matrix, Bob, Backslash, and Crash were having breakfast...or dinner, one tended to lose track of which meal was which when hurtling through the timeless Web. It didn't help that the only meal the Webrunner was capable of producing was a bowl of purple goo, supposedly highly nutritious, but almost completely flavorless.
Jareth wandered over to the dispenser and dialed up a bowl of goo, then sat down at the table.
"So how do you know Matrix?" Bob asked Crash, poking at his own "food" with his prefabricated plastic spoon.
"Matrix is it, now?" Crash asked. "He was still Enzo back when I first met him."
"I was still a little kid when you first met me," Matrix added.
* * *
The Past......
"Game Over....."
With a bang, the Game Cube shot up into the sky....without taking a large chunk of the city with it, much to the city's surprise. Binomes and Sprites flocked from all over, looking to see who had won the game.
There, in the center of where the Game Cube had been, stood three small Sprites: a girl wearing an outfit made of seashells, a small boy wearing Guardian armor, and a large yellow and red dog. The boy had his hand clutched to his face and seemed to be in a great deal of pain.
The small Guardian took a few steps forward, then collapsed.
"Enzo!" the girl rushed to his side, preventing him from hitting the ground. A few of the spectators rushed closer, but were cowed by the growling of the enormous dog and his enormous teeth.
"Stand back, back everyone!" A mature voice called. A tall, elderly Sprite stepped forward. The stereotypical scientist/doctor, he wore a white laboratory coat and sported a long white beard, but he seemed to exude a certain strong charisma anyway. He took a step towards Enzo, and even Frisket, it seemed, couldn't help trusting him.
"A Guardian....are you with him, miss...?"
"AndrAIa. My name's AndrAIa. Yes, I'm with Enzo. Is he going to be okay?"
"Enzo, is it? Hmm...." The man brushed the small Sprite's hair from his face. "Well, I'm afraid he'll never see out of this eye again. I can tell that much just from looking at it."
"Isn't there anything you can do?" AndrAIa asked.
"There may be....there may be. My name is Dr. Cyd. I'm the head of the Principal Office's Research and Development Team here in System Macromedia. As it happens, I've been working on a project lately that might just do the trick....But first, tell me, young lady....was it Enzo who won that game just now?"
The girl nodded.
"Excellent. Come with me, then, and we'll see what we can do."
* * *
Enzo groggily opened his eye, the world around him slowly coming into focus. He raised his hand to hs face, and found that his right eye had been covered with a heavy bandage. It didn't hurt anymore....but on that side, part of him felt horribly numb. Abruptly, he realized that others in the room were speaking. Quickly, he lay still, hoping that they hadn't yet realized he was awake.
"Are you sure he's an appropriate specimen for this experiment? He's only a child, after all, and we already have a subject--"
"I know what I'm doing," snapped another voice. "We made two prototypes, after all. It's best that we have subjects of different ages, in order to determine..."
"All right, all right. if you believe it's for the best, then go ahead and do it. But I don't approve of using children for this, Cyd. If the project sours, it'll mean your career."
There was the sound of a Vidwindow closing, followed by mumbled cursing. Footsteps approached, and the curtain surrounding Enzo's bed was pulled aside.
"Ah, you're awake! Excellent."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Dr. Cyd. And you are Guardian Enzo Matrix, of System Mainframe. Your friend told us all about you."
"AndrAIa? Where is she?"
"She's fine. She and the dog. They've been given quarters here in the Principal Office. But right now....right now I want to talk about you, Enzo."
"What do you want to know?" Enzo asked, a bit suspiciously.
"First of all, I want to congratulate you, Enzo, and to thank you. You won that game, and in doing so saved a number of the System's inhabitants."
"You're....welcome."
"Second....well, that's a bit more complicated. It's about your injury. AndrAIa told me your eye was injured in the game?"
Enzo nodded.
"The bad news, Enzo, is that your eye was severely damaged. It was beyond recovery, and the fact is, we had to remove it to prevent infection."
Enzo's jaw dropped.
"I apologize if this comes as a shock, but I will not lie to you, and I haven't the time for subtlety. You see, there is a project I have been working on, called the Metasprite Experiment. It involves the replacement of lost or damaged body parts with advanced cybernetic replacements."
"You can replace my eye?"
"Precisely. Your new eye will function as well as your old one, if not better. But we have a very small window of opportunity. If you wish this done, it must be done by tomorrow, or your eye socket will heal to such a degree--"
"How much will it cost?"
"There is no charge, as I said, you have done the System a great service in winning that game. We've had a number of those recently, and without a Guardian to defend us, the user has been winning. That was one of the driving forces behing the Metasprite Experiment, to create a team of specially trained champions to defend us from the games."
"I can't stay. I'd like to help, but I need to be getting home to Mainframe. There's this Virus--"
"Megabyte. Yes, so your friend advised us. However, I must inform you that there are no ports to the Net in this system. If you are to leave, you will have to go out the same way you came in: through the Games. There is a good chance that the games will drop you back into this System a number of times before carrying you on to the next, therefore even should you choose to leave, this System would still gain a temporary defender."
Enzo nodded, absorbing this.
"Well, Enzo, what is it to be? Do you wish to undergo the operation?"
Enzo swallowed, then nodded. "Do it."
* * *
Enzo lay on the table, staring nervously into the bright lights overhead. All around him, doctors and nurses hustled around, wheeling machinery in and out and generaly doing their best to make him nervous. AndrAIa had dropped in to see him, as had Frisket, but they hadn't been allowed to stay for the operation itself, so they wished him well and went off to wait in the lobby.
"Hey,"
Enzo nearly jumped off the table. He jerked his head to the side, almost dislodging his bandage...and saw another table, identical to his, upon which lay an adult sprite with ice-blue skin, spikey indigo hair, and a bandage over his left eye.
"Looks like you're here for the same reason I am," the Sprite said.
"Yeah. Guess so. You nervous?" Enzo asked.
"No."
"You lying?"
"Yep."
Enzo laughed. "I'm Enzo."
"Crash. Crash Burner. How'd you lose yours?"
Enzo briefly described his experience with Zaytan.
"Wow. Game accident."
"Yeah. Some Guardian I turned out to be."
"Not even a Guardian can win every time."
"Apparently not. What about you? How'd you lose your eye?"
"Well....."
The two were abruptly surrounded by medical personel. "We're ready to operate," Dr. Cyd said, appearing. "I'll be supervising everything, so don't worry about a thing." He placed a plastic mask over Enzo's mouth and nose. "Now, breathe deeply, and count backwards from ten."
"10.....9.....8......"
* * *
The Present......
A silvery sphere opened in front of Mainframe's principal Office, and two Sprites stepped out. One wore the traditional navy blue armor of a Guardian, her light blue skin complemented by her light brown hair. The other, obviously Viral, had green skin and wore a blue dress that constantly flowed about as though she was underwater. Her hair flowed the same way, mostly black but flashing turqouise when the light caught it just right. Her eyes were deep blue, peering out of a golden mask.
Phong trundled out to greet them. "Kit, Electra. Thank you for coming so quickly."
"No problem, Phong. What's the emergency?" Kit asked.
"Please follow me."
Phong turned about and led the two of them into the P.O. "Now, as you may know, the Webrunner was launched yesterday."
"Yeah, we saw the holoreports. Jareth was talking about it all second. He was dissappointed when I told him I wouldn't be here."
"Where's Backie?" Kit asked, looking around. "I thought he was supposed to be heading security during the unveiling."
"Backslash is on board the Webrunner, as are Jareth, Matrix, and Bob."
Kit and Electra both stopped in their tracks. "What?" they asked.
"The ship was launched prematurely, with all of them aboard." Phong stopped in front of a small door. "Open carroway," he said to it. The door slid open. "Follow me, please," Phong asked, entering the passage.
They followed him into a medium-sized hangar bay, in the center of which stood a medium sized ship that looked like a cross between an egg and a goldfish.
"Awww. it's cute," Electra said.
"This is The Chaser. It is made of the same substance and incorporates many of the same mechanisms as the Webrunner."
"You're going after them?"
"No, my child. YOU are."
"Sounds like fun," Electra said. "And Jareth's bound to get into trouble without me."
"I'll have to contact the Guardian collective and ask--"
"I have already spoken to Turbo, and he has granted you an extended leave of absence, as well as Bob and Backslash. None of you will be neglecting your duties."
Phong definitely seemed to have planned this out. "When do we leave?" Kit asked.
"Tomorrow, My child. I have one more small detail to arrange....."
* * *
"All alone I sit and wait, watching without rest
Dreaming of her fishy fins, and fondling her fishy--"
A small red light began flashing on the console, interrupting 308's recitation. His projected eyes narrows, and he remotely activated the main screen. On the large, hexagon-shaped vidwindow, the ravages of the Web could clearly be seen, but here there seemed to be something else, an occasion spark of red flashing through the data.
"Webrunner, stop."
"As you wish."
"Inform that pathetic excuse for a Virus that we're "there".
* * *
The Past.....
Enzo groggily sat up. His eye was still patched, but instead of numbness he now felt something very cold, something that occasionally seemed to vibrate or give him tiny electric shocks. Not enough to cause any actual pain, but definitely a sensation that would take some getting used to.
He glanced to the table beside him. There was a vase containing a bouquet of daisy wheels, star flowers, and prism blossoms, and a handmade card done in AndrAIa's handwriting. He smiled.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
Dr. Cyd entered the room. "Good morning, Enzo. How do you feel?"
"Fine. Well....a little strange, but--"
"That's to be expected." he brought out a small flashlight and shined it into Enzo's good eye. "No headaches? Dizzy spells?"
"No. Well, I just woke up."
"If you haven't felt them yet, then you probably won't. Excellent."
"Dr. Cyd? That other sprite, who had the operation..."
"Mr. Burner, yes?"
"How is he doing?"
"I was just about to go check on him. Would you like to accompany me?"
"I can do that?"
"I see no reason why you shouldn't. It wasn't your legs that got replaced."
Enzo jumped out of bed, quite lively for someone who had just awakened from a drugged stupor.
"Oh, and your friends have been clamoring incessantly to see you. Perhaps we should pay them a visit, as well," Dr. Cyd said, ushering Enzo out of the room and closing the door behind them.
* * *
The Present.....
"What's keeping him?" Kit asked, pacing back and forth along the catwalk of the Chaser's hangar bay.
Electra, laying down on thin air about three feet from the ground and filing her nails, merely shrugged. "He said he had a detail to attend to. Maybe he's still...I dunno....tending."
"Maybe."
"Now stop pacing before I ice you to the floor." Lecca returned to her nails. Filing her claws wasn't as time consuming a task as she would have liked it, as she had a grand total of six fingers, but she tried to stretch it out anyway.
Kit continued pacing. "I just hate waiting."
A sudden sound from the doorway starled them both, causing Kit to raise her keytool in defence and Electra to plummet those last three feet to the floor.
A mechanical construct had just wheeled into the room. It looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn't quite clear why; the machine had a vaguely triangular panel of glass atop it's head, thin, spiderlike fingers, wheels for legs and what appeared to be some sort of backpack.
Electra formed a glowing blue energy ball, preparing to hurl it at the construct.
"Wait, my child!" the machine said.
Phong strolled in behind the thing, wearing what appeared to be a VR helmet.
"Phong? What is this thing?" Kit asked.
Phong removed the helmet and the droid went limp. "This is something I've been working on for quite some time now. It is an android, one that can be controlled by use of this headset, no matter the distance."
Electra peered closely at it. "It kinda looks like you."
"Naturally, my child. I tried to give it my good looks. I have too many pressing duties here in Mainframe to go on any such journey in person, but with the help of this, I can accompany you and aid in your mission."
"Clever, I guess."
Phong replaced the helmet, and the android came back to life. "Thank you, my child." the voice came both from Phong and the Phong robot, with no delay between the two. The machine even mimicked Phong's actions and mannerisms perfectly.
"Come, then," Phong/Robot Phong said, Robot Phong wheeling up the ramp and into the ship. Phong himself exited the room; it wasn't quite clear how he directed Robot Phong's movement. Kit and Electra followed, boarding the Chaser and strapping themselves in.
Robot Phong rolled up to the pilot's seat and simply removed it, being completely unable to sit. He calmly placed the seat in the corner, then returned to the control panel and inserted a finger into on of the access ports on the panel. The triangular screen atop his head slid down before his face, characters flickering across it.
In repsonse to his commands, the hangar doors overhead opened, and the Chaser shot itself into the sky.
* * *
The 'crew' of the Webrunner gazed up at the hexagon-shaped viewscreen.
"The red flash we see occasionally is indicative of the presence of the energy Pattern we seek," 308 said.
"I still don't see how we'll ever be able to go to every address in the entire Net AND Web. There must be millions of them," Backslash said.
"Trillions, actually," the disembodied head corrected. "Fortunately, there is no need for us to travel to each and every location on the Net. The Pattern has the unusual property of traveling from areas of low concentration to areas of higher concentration."
"What?" Jareth asked, his mask an expression of puzzlement.
308 rolled his projected eyes. "Once we collect the big bits, all the smaller bits will come to us. Is that simple enough for you?"
"So...now that we're here....how do we actually collect the Pattern?" AndrAIa asked.
Everyone turned to stare at Jareth.
Jareth stared back. "What?"
"It's up to you, Jareth. You have to collect the pattern," Bob replied.
"Okay....and put it where?"
"One of your crystals will serve admirably, Jareth," the deep, soothing voice of the Webrunner intoned. "In fact, I have been working on a receptacle."
"A recepta-what?"
In response to the Virus' question, a small panel on the floor of the bridge slid open, and a four-sided pedestal emerged from the floor. At the top was a spherical indentation.
Jareth reached into his pocket and withdrew a small crystal orb. "How did you know about my crystals, anyway?" he asked the Webrunner.
"I have extensive files on each of you, with the exception of Mr. Burner."
"Call me Crash."
"Very well. Crash."
Jareth placed the crystal into the receptacle atop the pedestal. "Okay....now what?"
"You must employ a low-level gravimetric pulse to draw the Pattern from the surrounding area of the Web into the crystal," the massive silver ship replied.
".....?" Jareth somehow managed to ask.
"Once you start doing it, you'll understand how," The Webrunner assurred him.
"Ah. Okay, then," Jareth said, rubbing his mismatched hands together. "Here goes."
"While Jareth's working," Bob said, turning back to matrix and Crash. "Why not continue your story?"
"Well," Crash said. "Okay."
* * *
A shining, silvery sphere popped into existence in the sky above the small system, and the Chaser shot out of it, the portal closing once it was through.
"Where are we?" Kit asked.
"The System is called Macromedia," Phong replied, steering the oblong ship down for a landing. "The distress signal we recieved is originating from the Principal Office."
"I still say we should stick to our own mission," Electra said. "Someone else is bound to come along. Let them handle this."
"It may be too late by then, My Child."
"It may be too late now," Electra retorted.
"We have to at least check it out," Kit said.
Electra sighed. Not on the road a nano, and they had already been sidetracked.
The Guardian, Virus, and Android disembarked the small ship, re-sealing the hatch behind them.
Kit looked around, aghast. "This System has been...."
"Wasted?" Electra suggested.
Kit nodded, mouth hanging open. Most of the buildings had been ruduced to rubble, numerous tears filled the air, and all around them were empty hulls of what had once been other ships, but had crumbled due to time and neglect.
"Reminds me of the vidfiles of what Megaframe was like," Kit said. "Ruin everywhere, no signs of life."
"Then what do you call that?" Electra pointed.
From a nearby pile of rubble, something emerged, dragging itself towards the trio. It seemed to be alive, but so much of it's body had been mangled or replaced by mechanical devices that it was hard to tell what it once might have been. One of its arms was a large, rusted metal claw, and transparent tubes had been inserted into it's skin in several places, acting as external viens and arteries. There wasn't much left of it's head except for a small patch of fur and a single, living eye that seemed wild and confused.
"I.....I don't know what to call that," Kit replied. "Clip--Scanner."
The creature lurched towards them, and Electra raised her hands to blast it with a burst of frozen energy, but Kit stopped her.
"No, 'Lectra....that thing's a Sprite! Or at least....at least it used to be."
"What happened to it?" For 'it' was so far gone that its gender couldn't be determined.
"Not what, Kit said. "Who."
* * *
The Past.....
Enzo held the massive rifle in his comparitively small hands, admiring the way it glinted in the flourescent lights of the shooting range.
"They are nice, aren't they?" Crash asked, admiring his own double-barrelled shotgun.
"I'll say." Enzo twitched as his new eye beneath its bandage gave him a slight electrical shock. "Ow. How much longer did Dr. Cyd say this would be happening?"
"A few more seconds, that's all," Crash replied. "Yeah, it's starting to bug me, too. He said something about 'integrating with our nervous systems'. I say it's just annoyi....woah." Crash blinked repeatedly.
"What?" Enzo asked.
"I think mine just kicked in. I can see through the bandage." Crash turned, taking in the entire room. "And the walls, and the cieling, and the floor....awesome."
"Alphanumeric!" Enzo cried. "Hey....the eye should work in combination with the gun. Try it."
Crash obligingly levelled his shotgun at one of the targets on the far side of the room. For a moment there was silence....though Enzo could swear he heard a slight humming coming from Crash's head....then....
*BANG!*
The target for which Crash had been aiming simply exploded, flaming pieces falling to the ground.
"Nice," Crash commented. He haises a hand to his bandage. "Though it felt a bit strange...I think the eye actually swiveled in its socket."
"Oh, come on," Enzo said. "That's just ridiculous."
"Yeah, you're right."
Enzo turned his attention back to his gun. "The more advanced tricks require voice commands," he remembered. "We have to name them."
"I think I'll call mine 'Sword'."
Enzo stared cycloptically up at the older Sprite. "But...it's not a sword."
"Exactly."
Enzo shook his head. "You're a weird one, Crash."
* * *
Crash strode down the hall towards Dr. Cyd's office, intent on informing him that his new eye was finally functioning. Hopefully he could remove the bandage now and stop looking like some kind of demented pirate.
Upon hearing voices from the other side of the door, Crash froze, his knuckles inches from it's wooden surface.
"So how much longer?" asked a voice he didn't recognize.
"A few more millicycles, perhaps," came the voice of Dr. Cid. He sounded tired.
"And then?"
"And then I collect what is owed to me and move on," Cid snapped. "I know what you and Raid are planning, and I want no part of it."
The door opened.
"Crash," Dr. Cid sounded surprised. "Erm...may I introduce my colleague, Dr. Malware?"
Crash looked into the room beyond Dr. Cid. Standing behind him was a Sprite wearing a white coat identicle to Cid's, with a nametag that read Dr. Malware.
Unlike Cid, Malware was quite young. His hair was thick, black, and spikey, his skin a shade of deep purple. His eyes were a piercing emerald green.
Cid's charisma was such that one couldn't help trusting him. Malware's was just the opposite: he seemed to exude an aura of deciept. Crash instantly felt nervous.
"Nice to meet you," he lied.
"And a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Burner," Malware said, smiling a poisonous smile. "I've been working with Dr. Cid on the Metasprite project for quite some time."
"And your contribution has been invaluable," Cid said, with the perfect amount of sarcasm in his voice. Just enough to convey the feeling, not enough to actually get offended at.
Malware's smile faltered slightly. "So, Crash," he finally said. "How are you feeling?"
"Actually, that's what I came to tell you about, Doc," Crash remembered, turning back to Cid. "My eye is working. I can see everything, even through the bandage."
"Really?" Cid brightened, taking an immediate interest. "No painful glare, no extreme brightness?"
"Umm...no."
"Then by all means, get rid of that ridiculous eyepatch."
* * *
The present....
Kit ran, Electra flew and Phong rolled at full speed, racing down the streets of Multimedia.
Electra stopped as she passed the entrance to a house that was still standing. "in here!" she said, soaring in through the door. Kit screeched to a halt, doubling back, and as soon as Phong rolled in, she slammed the door.
"Man, there are a lot of those things," the Virus said.
"Sprites," Kit corrected. "Those things are Sprites. Or at least they were."
"Yeah, well, they're not anymore. And if they are, they're not very friendly."
"Clip--Scanner." Leaning against the door, Kit examined the readings from her Keytool. "They''re some sort of cyborgs...It's weird, though...some of the parts are extremely sophisticated, but others are pretty much scrap. It's like the one who built them ran out of parts halfway through and had to improvise."
"Can they be reasoned with?" Phong asked.
"Nah-uh. Not a one of them still has a complete brain."
"So, essentially, we're being attacked by a ravenous swarm of insane cyborgs, who, by all indications, want to tear us limb from limb?" Electra asked.
"Yup."
"And you won't let me blast them, because....?"
A heavy, rusted blade broke through the wooden door, inches to the left of Kit's ear.
"Umm," Kit said. "I can't remember."
"Who are you?" a voice asked from behind them.
They spun around to see who had spoken. A humanoid Sprite stood in the shadows. It was too dark to make out any of his features, the only indication as to where he actually was was a single, glowing, blood-red eye that shone out at them.
"Umm..."
"I'm Electra. Who the hell are you?"
Kit shot a sidelong glare at her.
"I am...myself." The speaker stepped forward into the light.
He was a male Sprite, tall and thin. He was wearing what appeared to be a torn, tattered lab coat, stained with blood and with both sleeves torn off, revealing a pair of skeletal biomechanical arms. The entire right side of his head was made of metal, the hair on that side made of brushlike copper wire, his eye a sphere of glowing red crystal held in place by four tiny, curved metal spikes. The right leg of his pants was torn away, revealing a crude leg of metal, wires and tubes running along its length. His voice was almost completely impassive, free of inflection.
"I am Kit Maxel, Guardian 626 of the Supercomputer. What's your name?"
"Name?" The cyborg seemed to lose sight of them, his emerald green organic eye becoming distant, his cybernetic eye whirring as it focused on an imaginary faraway object. "My name was.... is... Malware." A smile tugged briefly at the corner of his lips. "I had almost forgotten."
"What happened here?" Phong asked.
The smile faded. "Packard happened."
"Who's Packard?" Kit inquired.
"Packard is an insane doctor. He has systematically converted everyone in this system into grotesque cyborgs."
"Why?"
"He believes himself to be benevolent," Malware said, passion entering his voice for the first time. Passion, tinged with hatred. "He operates for the slightest scratch, replacing limbs which do not need to be replaced, and doing more damage in the process. His 'patients' inevitably become more machine than Sprite. I am the only one in the System, apart from Packard himself, who is even capable of speech anymore." Malware looked down at his metal hands, clenching them into fists and closing his organic eye tightly.
Kit consulted her keytool. "He still has 68% of his brain intact," she reported. "None of the others has more than 17%."
"How did Packard come into power, my son?" Phong asked. "And what was this place like before?"
"I..." Malware shook his head. "I do not remember. I can barely remember anything...of who I was....of what anything was." He looked Kit in the eyes. "I recall having hated Packard even before...whatever happened...though I do not remember why."
Another rusty blade broke through the rotting wooden door.
Electra sighed testily and raised a hand towards it, reinforcing the door with a thick layer of solid ice. "So why are these things attacking us?"
"They no longer have minds," Malware said. "But they have programming. Packard has set up a distress beacon to lure other Sprites to this System. Once here, the cyborgs are to capture them and bring them to him. He will then 'help' them. In this manner he hopes to bring his twisted brand of compassion to the entire Net, in time."
"So now what do we do?"
"You seem capable. Perhaps you are the help I have been waiting for."
"Help, nothing. I say we torch this place and go home," Electra said.
"At the very least, we have to red-flag this System as a Netwide hazard," Kit said.
"Please, stay and lend your assistance," Malware implored. "With your help, we can eliminate the hazard entirely."
"What are you proposing?" Phong asked.
"I propose that we break into the Principal Office where Packard resides, disable the distress beacon," and here Malware's voice darkened signifigantly, "and erase Packard."
"Well, I don't know about the 'Erase Packard' part," Kit said. "But disabling the beacon we can do."
"Packard would simply rebuild it," Malware said. "In any case, you need not lay a hand on Packard. It will be my pleasure to tend to that myself."
Kit and Phong exchanged a wary glance.
* * *
The Past...
"Who's Raid?" Crash asked later, as Dr. Cid examined his now uncovered golden eye through a magnifying lens.
"Hmm? Oh," Cid said, suddenly seeming flustered. "Raid is the Command.Com of Multimedia. Blustering old man. Likes to have his way."
"That bad?" Enzo asked from the next table over, awaiting his turn under the magnifier.
"I went to school with him. Never could stand the man. Delusions of granduer."
The doctor moved on to inspect Enzo, who's eye had kicked in moments afer Crash had left the room to inform Cid about his own bionic implant.
"I take it you overheard part of my conversation with Dr. Malware."
"The ASCII end of it, yeah. So...what are Malware and Raid planning?"
Dr. Cid sighed. "I suppose you have a right to know. Raid has, as I said, delusions of granduer. He wishes to rule more than Multimedia. Net conquest and all that. How he intends to manage that without ports to the Net, I'll never know. Not the brightest, Raid. Anyway, this morning I learned that he wishes to utilize the Metasprite project to create not simply defenders of the System, but an army with which he can invade other Systems."
Cid sighed, glancing back at the rear wall of the examination room, which was a rack covered with experimental biomechanical replacement limbs and organs. "Had I known my work would be used for such purposes, I'd never have accepted this job."
"But then we'd both be half blind," Crash said. "So some good, at least, did come of this."
"Yes, that's true. At any rate, I've turned in my notice. Once I've been paid for my services, I'm quitting the research team." Cid tapped the side of his head. "Some of our work is documented, but most of it's right here. Project Metasprite will fall flat on its face without me, and good riddance."
With that, Dr. Cid turned back to the other operating table that stood behind him, replacing the magnifier into the slot at the side, alongside a number of other surgical tools. "It gives me great pleasure to pronounce the procedure to be a complete success. Both of your new eyes have fully integrated with your nervous systems, and will, barring anything stupid, serve you well for the remainder of your lives."
"Just what I was waiting to hear," came a voice from behind the doctor.
Dr. Cid spun around as the air shimmered with the distinct stigma of a hidden file command being deactivated, and Dr. Malware stood behind him, along with a pair of heavily armed security Sprites and a floating screen of some kind, which displayed the face of an elderly, pompous-looking green Sprite.
"Raid." Cid said, looking at the screen. "Dr. Malware. So good to see you both."
"Spare me the plattitudes, Cid," Raid spat from the screen. "Delusions of granduer, is it?" Cid crossed his arms, not flinching.
"Take him away," Malware ordered, looking as though Christmas had come early. The security Sprites stepped forward and grasped Cid.
"What, if I may ask, is the charge?" Cid asked politely.
"oh, I'll think of something," Raid said, negligently waving his hand. "You said you were quitting the project, and that it would fall on it's face without you? I believe that constitutes conspiracy to sabotauge a government project, wouldn't you agree, Dr. Malware?"
"Oh, absolutely."
"And you think we're just going to let you arrest him on some trumped up charge?" Enzo demanded, as the Sprites led Cid out the door. Raid's screen followed, his taunts continuing until they were cut off as the door closed.
"YOU have little say in the matter," Malware said cruelly. He made the slightest motion with his foot, pressing a tiny button set into the floor. Immediately, the tables on which Crash and Enzo sat sprang upright, and would have thrown them forward if not for the leather straps that appeared, binding them to the flat surfaces.
"Some of our patients can get a bit...uncooperative," Malware said, grinning. "So these tablets were created. Handy, wouldn't you agree?"
"Why are you doing this?" Enzo asked, struggling against the bonds.
"Well, for starters, we can't have you helping the old fool, can we?" Malware nodded his head at the door through which Cid had been dragged. "And of course we aren't just going to let over six million units' worth of research and developement walk away. That's just absurd. A waste of resources. And then there's the fact that I'm getting paid an absurd amount for this."
Malware tilted his head, considering. "But mostly," he said, "I think it's the fact that Dr. Cid's name is going to be discredited, and I'll get all the glory for heading the Metasprite Project. Richly deserved, of course. Everyone's always given that old fool entirely too much credit, it's about time I got some."
"So, what? You think we're just going to snap to a salute, and agree to help you invade other Systems?"
"Not bloody likely," Crash said, glaring.
"Well, yes, actually, you will." Malware removed a small object from his pocket and tossed it into the air, catching it deftly. "You'll just ned a bit of...convincing."
* * *
The Present...
It wasn't difficult to escape Malware's house. Phong and Malware himself simply walked (or rolled, in the android's case) right out the front door. The cyborgs had no interest in capturing another cyborg, nor was it in their programming to capture something made completely of machinery.
As for Kit and Electra, Malware showed them to the roof, where Electra and Kit took off and flew, Kit using her Keytool as a small helicoptor, towards the Principal Office.
Once there, Electra created another wall of ice to keep the maurading cyborgs at bay while the others approached the thick, heavy door of the P.O.
Malware raised his mechanical right arm. As they watched, the casing of his forearm opened, and his hand swiveled down and back. Attached to the back of his wrist was a short rod, and as soon as his hand was entirely inside his forearm, the casing snapped shut and the rod snapped sideways, so that it was attached to his arm at a right angle. As the rod telescoped down to twice its length, Malware gripped the extended portion with his other metal hand, and a blade of energy sprang forth from the other end.
"You have an energysaber built into your arm?" Kit asked.
"I have been planning this endeavor for some time. In preparation I have upgraded the limbs that Packard gave me."
"I see," the Guardian said.
Using the saber, Malware carved a semicircular door into the solid wall of the principal Office. Once the cutting was done, he Spun and gave the cut portion a solid kick with his flimsy-looking, but evidently quite sturdy, metal leg. The loosened chunk fell inwards with a crash.
Oddly enough, there was no functioning security system....unless one counted the sickening stench that permeated the building.
"ugh," Electra ughed. "What IS that?"
"It is the smell of rotting flesh," Malware replied flatly. "The decomposition of limbs and parts Packard has discarded."
"I'm beginning to think this guy has the right idea," Electra said, glancing at Phong. "This 'Packard' is one twisted individual. And that's coming from ME."
Phong said nothing, he simply kept pace alongside them as they ventured deeper into the P.O. They soon came to a junction.
"I will go this way, and meet you back here when I am finished. Ignore anything you may hear." The cyborg pointed down another hall. "You will find the machinery for the beacon down that hall," he said. "It is where the System's Primary Communications Room is located."
"How do you know?" Electra asked.
"I...do not know. I remember the layout of the Principal Office. It is likely that I spent a great deal of time here, before."
He didn't say before what exactly, but then, it was fairly obvious. Before Packard had hacked off his limbs, gouged out his brain...Kit shuddered involuntarily as she, Electra, and Phong ventured down the hall Malware had indicated.
Malware continued down the other hall, presumably towards Packard's lair, intent on deleting him....and Kit couldn't quite blame him.
* * *
The Past.....
"Now hold still young Guardian," Dr. Malware said sneeringly, knowing full well that Enzo could do nothing BUT hold still.
"What IS that thing?" Enzo asked, trying to sound brave.
"oh, this?" Malware held up the device in his hand. It was small and flat, with a curve to it that suggested that it was meant to attach to something round. "I haven't exactly named it yet. Just a little something the Command.Com had me whip up. Something to ensure the loyalty of our new bionic soldiers."
"What's it do? Shock us if we get out of line?" Crash asked.
"Oh, nothing so crude," Malware answered. "You see, once this little gadget was worked its magic, you'll never WANT to get out of line. What this device does," he said, as he strode towards the panel to which Enzo was strapped, "Is to search out and delete all memory engrams not related to order and function."
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning, once I'm done here, you'll be blank. No one. All of your memories, save those of how to walk, talk, et cetera, will be deleted. And we'll fill the space they used to occupy with useful bits of knowledge. How to fight, who you answer to, that sort of thing. You'll become the perfect soldiers."
Enzo's eyes widened, and Crash strugled against the straps that held him to the tablet.
"Now now, Mr. Burner. Do be careful. We wouldn't want you damaging yourself." Malware leaned forward and smiled at him. "You were expensive."
Malware turned back to Enzo and attached the device to the side of the small Sprite's head.
Enzo tried to dislodge the object by brushing the side of his head against the panel, but it seemed to be stuck fast.
"Now, then...any last words?"
"yes! Why don't you--"
"I'm sorry, that's all the time we have," Malware cut him off, reaching forward and pressing a small red button on the device.
Enzo screwed his eyes shut, determined to hold onto his memories, but he could feel the device functioning, like invisible fingers feeling their way through his brain.
There was a loud crash from outside the thick, stainless steel double doors. Malware glanced up sharply.
Tapping his combadge, Malware growled, "Security!"
No answer. Malware cursed.
The doors slid open, and a massive red-and-yellow dog leapt into the room.
The two guards who had been standing outside the door feel into the room also, both unconscious, marks from AndrAIa's spines on their faces.
The aforementioned Gamesprite walked into the rom, arm-mounted crossbow aimed at Malware.
"You get away from Enzo!" she cried.
"AndrAIa! Get me out of this!"
AndrAIa glanced at Enzo, then looked down at Frisket. "Keep an eye on him, Frisket."
Frisket growled an affirmative as AndrAIa walked over to the panels and began unfastening the leather straps that held Enzo and Crash in place.
Malware scowled and started towards her, but Frisket growled more loudly and the doctor froze. "This is a resricted level! How did you get here without clearance?" he demanded.
"oh, they had clearance," came another voice. "Mine."
Malware's eyes widened as Dr. Cid stepped calmly into the room. "You! What are you doing back here?"
"Well, it seems that these young Sprites grew tired of not being allowed to leave their rooms, so they...ahem....disabled...the guards stationed to watch them and freed me from my cell, on the assumption that I would lead them to Enzo, which I then happily did. Enzo, are you all right?" Cid asked.
"I am now," Enzo replied, reaching up and removing the device from his head. Letting it fall to the floor, he brought his boot down on the contraption, crushing it with a satisfying smash.
"No!" Malware said. "Do you know how long that took to construct?"
"What do we do now?" Crash asked, rubbing his wrists where the leather straps had chafed them. "We can't exactly turn him in to the authorities. Malware's working for Raid himself. Any minute now, we'll have the entire System after us."
"The only way out of this System is through the Games. But there's no way of telling when or where one might fall," AndrAIa said.
"Actually," Dr. Cid said. "This system has a Game Forcasting service."
"You're kidding me," Enzo said.
"Not at all. It's quite accurate. I should know, I designed it."
"When's the next Game scheduled to fall?" AndrAIa asked.
"Today, as it happens." Dr. Cid checked his wrist chronometer. "Can you bring up a System map?"
"Glitch--System scan." Enzo held up the broken Keytool, which was nonetheless capable of producing a holographic map of Multimedia.
"The game should fall here," Cid said, pointing to a square on the map, which promptly lit up red, as opposed to the rest of the map, which was green. "Ah...thank you, Glitch. If you leave now, you should be able to make it there before the Game falls."
"We?" Enzo asked. "Aren't you coming?"
"I'm afraid not. I can hardly go into Game Sprite mode like you three, can I? No, I'm afraid I'll have to stay here and face the music for my actions. But I WILL come along and see you off."
"Me, too," Crash said.
"We can't just leave you here," the Guardian said.
"Oh, I'm afraid you must. I already have to devise some way of getting Mr. Burner out of the System. I'm certainly not going to let Raid get his hands on my work, not when I at least have a way of sending some of it beyond his grasp."
Enzo frowned.
The sound of a blaster powering up effectively brought the conversation to a halt. The Sprites turned to see Malware, a tiny holdout blaster in his hand, aimed squarely at Dr. Cid's head.
"I'm afraid none of you are going anywhere. Multimedia has spent a lot of money on you two, and no disgruntled FORMER employee is going to throw it--"
Malware's reflexes were no match for Enzo's. With a quick blast from GUn, the holdout blaster went flying, leaving Malware clutching his scorched hand.
Dr. Cid said nothing. He simply gave Malware a dismal look and a deep, disappointed sigh.
Malware couldn't bear that. He screamed and lunged at Cid, knocking him to the ground. At the same time, AndrAIa fired a bolt from her crossbow into his arm. The force of the bolt sent Malware spinning, throwing him off balance and causing him to fall over, knocking his head against the wall of the room. The doctor was instantly knocked unconscious.
Cid, meanwhile, feel to the ground, his head striking the floor near Enzo's feet. Sparks instantly flew from beneath his head, and the doctor let out a scream, clutching at the side of his face that had struck the ground. Arcs of lightning coursed over him, as though he were being electrocuted, then he fell silent, out cold.
"Dr. Cid!"
Red lights began to flash overhead, and a shrill siren split the air.
"No time," Crash said. "We've got to get going."
"But--" Enzo began.
"No time," Crash interrupted again.
"But--"
"No time for that either. Come on!"
With that, Crash ushered the two small Sprites out the door, Frisket follwing close on their heels.
* * *
The Present...
Malware strode into the room, the sound of his leather shoe against the floor contrasting sharply with the sound of his large, flat steel foot. He turned his head slowly, scanning the room, literally and figuratively. Through his red bionic eye, a single organic form stood out against the darkness, bent over a table, assembling yet another twisted cyborg.
"Packard," he said.
The figure looked up, startled. "Yes? Can I help you?"
Malware took several angry steps forward, until only the table and the grotesque creature strapped to it stood between him and the mad doctor.
"I'm afraid I'm rather busy just now," Packard said, not showing half the fear a sane person would show when confronted by an angry cyborg. Up close, it was obvious just how insane the doctor was. He had ignored hygiene altogether. His white beard and hair had grown to obscene lengths, with many snarls and tangles, and his body odor was so severe it overpowered the stench of rotting flesh that arose from the nearby pile of discarded limbs. On his temple, a terrible scar was visible beneath the filth that coated him. His chin was sticky with drool, and his eyes had a wide, wild look. His bloodstained laboratory coat was so filthy it was hard to believe that it had once been white, and his nametag was on upside-down.
"If you could make an appointment with the nurse," Packard continued, oblivious to the angry stare he was recieving, "I'll be right with you as soon as--"
With a single swipe of his powerful mechanical arms, Malware knocked the mangled body off the table, then, ignoring that it was bolted to the floor, he lifted the table and tossed it aside.
"You have done quite enough."
Packard tilted his head to the side. "Yes...yes, I remember you." Packard giggled. "I never forget a patient. You were the first one I helped. I remember it well...."
* * *
The Past....
The Sprite on the floor twitched, rising to a sitting position and shaking his head. Where was he? Who was he? He looked down at himself. Hmm. White coat. Nametag. Ah! Nametag. There was something strange about the letters, though he couldn't quite figure out what it was. The tag read 'piC .rD'. Picard? Packard? Packard. Well, if that's what his name tag said, that must have been his name. What cruel parents he must have had.
With a chuckle, he realize that he was wearing the name tag upside-down. Anyone facing him trying to read it would have read 'Dr. Cid'. How absurd. Giggling, he righted the tag. There. Much better.
A small object lay on the ground, sparking. He looked at it strangely....it lay on the ground in exactly the same place his head had been, almost as though he had fallen on it. Bringing his hand to the side of his head, he felt a dull, throbbing pain, and the texture was almost certainly severe scar tissue. How peculiar.
Rising unsteadily to his feet, Packard looked around. There was the body of a Sprite lying on the ground, with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his arm.
Well, couldn't have that. It could get infected, and the poor man was losing lots of blood. With some effort, Packard picked up the Sprite and placed him onto an operating table.
Raising the surgical rotary saw, he severed the Sprite's arm at the shoulder. There. No more crossbow bolt....oops. He'd taken the wrong arm. Oh, well....easily fixed. Another run with the saw and the correct amputation had been made. Turning to the wall behind him, he selected a pair of biomechanical arms and began to fit them to the patient.
Not long after one of the arms had been attached, the patient began to stir. Uh-oh...if he woke up now, he'd cause a fuss. Might dislodge the arm. Bending down and siezing a piece of heavy equiptment from the side of the table, Packard gave the patient a solid blow to the head, and he fell still again. There. Much better. Oops....the blow had peeled back some of the skin from the skull. Energy was running down the patient's face into his eye.
Well, he couldn't see with blood in his eye. Picking up a surgical tool and removing the non-working eye, Packard began fitting the patient for a biomechanical eye as well. As he was retrieving the new eye from the wall of parts, his eyes fell upon two more Sprites, these ones wearing security uniforms, lying by the door. From the looks of things, they had been injured.
Packard sighed. So many people to help, so little time.
* * *
The Present...
"So, then have you come for a checkup? So few of my patients do. It's quite important, you know, getting regular checkups." Packard rambled.
"I have not come for a checkup."
"Well, so long as you're here, let's have one anyway." the mad doctor held up a reflex mallet. "This won't hurt a bit."
Malware raised his arms. As before, the casing of his forearms snapped open, and his hands rotated away, other objects emerging from his wrists. His left arm bore a circular saw, and his right some sort of crushing claw.
"Oh, yes," the cyborg said, still in a completely impassive voice. "I'm afraid it will."
* * *
Kit flinched as a shrill scream echoed throughout the building.
"Ignore it," Electra said. "We've got a job of your own to do."
Kit nodded. "What's the best way to stop the signal?"
Phong rolled forward, his screen falling from the top of his head and snapping into flace in front of his face. He inserted his finger into the approprite jack on the communications console. "The System is passworded. I believe our most expedient course of action would be to...well....destroy it."
Electra switched to a grin. "Then stand back."
Kit took a step back, and Phong hastily put his wheels in reverse.
Once they were a clear distance away, Electra raised her hands.
Her long, turqouise-black hair slurped back into her head like thin spaghetti, stiffening into a layer of short, sharp thorns. From the sides of her head grew a pair of curved, swept-back horns, and her dress shortened into a skirt, revealing the black leggings she wore underneath. Her three-fingered hands became talons, and her toes did likewise. Finally, sharp blades emerged from her forearms and shins as she completed her transition into what Jareth called 'Hyde-Mode'.
The control panel never stood a chance.
* * *
Some of the bloodstains on Malware's torn laboratory coat were fresh.
"Did you destroy the beacon?"
"Yes," Phong replied. "Did you....complete your business?"
"Yes," Malware replied.
"So....now what?" Kit asked.
"You can return to your ship," Malware said. "The cyborgs will not have touched it, they have no programming regarding vessels."
"That explains all those abandoned ships in the harbor," Electra said.
"I meant, what about you?"
Malware paused. "I have not given the matter much thought."
"Why don't you come with us?" Kit asked.
Electra grabbed her by the shoulder. "Are you NUTS?" she hissed. "You're inviting a murderous cyborg to share a bunk with us?"
Malware gazed levelly at them. "I am a murderer, yes. But I bear no ill will to any of you. There is nothing left for me....for anyone....here. Nothing but filth and decay." He looked down at his mechanical hands. "I've never cared for this particular pair of hands, but if you think they will be of any help, then I gladly offer their service."
"Then welcome to the team," Kit said.
Electra shook her head. "I just KNOW this is a bad idea."
* * *
"There. That's it," Jareth said, looking down at the crystal sphere that sat on the pedestal before him. eneath its flawless surface now beat a steady pulse of crimson light: the fragment of the Pattern.
"Not much to look at," Matrix said. "it's hard to believe this thing is such a powerful weapon."
"It might not BE a weapon," AndrAIa said. "We'll have to wait and see, once we have it all."
"I will begin plotting our course for the next fragment," 308's disembodied head said curtly.
"You know, I wonder whatever became of Dr. Cid," Crash said curiously. "Do you think that shock, or whatever it was, did him in?"
"Nah," Matrix said. "I'm sure he's fine."
"What makes you say that?" Bob asked.
Matrix shrugged. "Just a feeling."
"Course plotted," 308 reported.
"If everyone will take their seats," Webrunner said smoothly, and as soon as everyone had, the ship sped off throughout the depths of the Web, en route once again.