Four
Among a nation or world of famous metropolis, patriot pride, and checkered histories, Meridiana stood out among others only due to its generic white and grey marble structuring. The 'experts', if there were such professionals, would comment on a lack of flavor or vibe. 'The City of the Damned', some wags had called it. Less than eighty thousand people crammed onto a wide bay, and you would be hard-pressed indeed to find the name of the person who had founded it.
Like many others of its type, the city had an underbelly, which Jose had visited more often than any other person his age ought to. This time he came as an assured conqueror, and, as before, he had enough muscle on call to intimidate anyone who might cross him.
"I wish to god" complained a surly voice from a side alley, "that you'd turn that damn thing off."
Not realizing who his friend had just annoyed, another young voice echoed up the marble passage, over the audible din of an archaic stereo speaker. "It's stayin' on so long as we got batteries for the News, Nate; I want to know what they're doin' about that bomb. Can't sleep without it."
"Shit. The money you spend on batteries for that thing, you could spend on food. No point in worrying about a bomb if you're gonna starve, and I'm not giving you any more."
Neither of these two had been looking up for the last twenty seconds, which was all the time required for Jose and his four Fixed Ideas to barge into the alleyway in search of a living being from the darkest corners of the city.
Surveying both of the terrified homeless people with a satisfied smirk, Jose walked up to a youth more than twice his size and pulled off Mr. Potty Mouth's baseball cap. It was a nicely threaded cap, considering what little else these two had hoarded up in their little corner.
"You." he ordered loudly to the other one as 'Nate' wrestled between irritation with Jose and fear of the four hulks behind him. "I want you and your friend to gather everyone for a meeting in the old theatre. Everyone you can find, understand?"
Not sure how to respond to this, the other man looked up and cried out upon seeing one of the muscle-bound creatures holding the stereo above his head. "You can have that back once you do that." Jose chuckled. "Get everyone to the theatre tonight, at midni-"
His sentence was cut off when he saw a black streak darted out from several grimy floors above onto the shoulders of one of his Fixed Ideas. Seemingly rebounding off from that one, it still had the time to shred its shirt, leaving bloody scars.
Data Seven ended his rebound on the pavement between the two boys and Jose's pack, his snarling driving away the people he'd jumped down to save.
"Data Seven" observed Jose in pent-up rage; trying to appear as though he didn't care much. "So you survived. Did you come to join me now?"
A roar that seemed incredibly loud in a confined space like this was his only answer. Jose was unable to order an attack with his hands clenched on his ears in pain, but the Fixed Idea that the panther had mauled earlier didn't wait for his brothers to catch on. He grunted in pain and lunged at a target that was already leaping up and over him, gaining momentum by kicking off the first one's back into the mob.
Without a word to his thugs, Jose panicked and fled the alleyway after seeing those polished fangs and yellow eyes up close. It was, he thought in annoyance, just like the last time he'd tried to gain control of the underworld- Data Seven, sent by his father to eliminate Cyber Six, had betrayed him and destroyed all his plans. If it turned out that way again... he would be completely ruined!
Back in the alleyway, the numerical odds were beginning to gain importance. None of Jose's brutish henchmen were without claw marks on their bodies now, but none of them were down yet. They just kept charging and punching, wearing Data Seven down after having to dodge around so much in this claustrophobic alley. True, they hadn't landed any blows on him yet, but one was all they needed.
Because of this unfavorable situation he'd wandered into, Data Seven was more relieved than alarmed when one Fixed Idea went from flesh to raw hamburger, seemingly cut apart by shadows. A small, powerful knife had pierced him from behind, cleaving him in two as one might cut a melon. Instead of retching as the carnage, Data Seven took advantage of the pause to pin and leap from another Fixed Idea's head to get a better view of what it was that had done it.
Whoever it was, they weren't stopping with just one- two of the massive creatures stared in utter terror as another one of their fellows was killed by a single slash from the darkness, this time launching the knife into and through the exhausted target's torso from behind like a missile.
If he'd been able to, Data Seven would have cursed. This... whatever it was... wasn't here just to aimlessly kill Fixed Ideas- it wanted him, and he would have its undivided attention very soon. Getting out of the alley before that happened would require a four-step jump back to the roof he'd dropped from.
Big Sis could have made the jump without breaking a sweat, but he'd never tried anything like this.
He did not let another stifled death cry distract him, building momentum for a rebound off the left wall onto an awning, then from there to the wall again.
A gentle whistle sounded in Data Seven's ear, and he felt wind from the right created by another knife. For the first time, he could get a look at the weapons that could accomplish in one stroke what his claws could not in three; the transparent edge flickered in the moonlight, caressing a narrow protrusion that ended in a sharp point that was actually the handle. The core of the knife contained some sort of black obstruction that blocked the light, but all in all the entire weapon looked thin as a dime.
Something below him was ascending the right wall as he rebounded again, dodging the knife as it fell downward and another one soared upwards to pierce a window.
One more leap, and he was back on the rooftops. Standing back a few paces from the crevice between buildings, Data Seven waited for his phantom attacker to emerge, bracing himself for a much harder fight than mere Fixed Ideas could provide.
He was not wholly disappointed. After thirty seconds of utter silence, he could safely say that the knife-throwing assailant had disappeared back into the shadows, waiting to strike again at the next opportunity.
Relaxing only a notch, the panther berated himself for not having smelled the assassin earlier. Well, now he would make certain to detect his or her tangy scent from a hundred feet so long as he stayed alert.
The problem was, even that might not be enough.
Lucas checked the clock again and mopped his brow. Not only was he nervous about the journey he was about to make, but his traveling partner hadn't even arrived yet.
If it came down to it, he thought as he watched another train depart from the solid white platform he'd come to, he'd have to postpone. Data Seven could find Cyber Six by scent from an indefinite distance- without him, Lucas had no idea where to begin looking.
Killing time, he checked his things again. Spare outfit, check. Toothbrush, check... he really had no idea how long he would be gone for- for all he knew, the woman he loved was on the other side of the globe, held captive by who-knew-what.
No matter what, Lucas would save her, as she'd saved him countless times. He'd already taken measures to make sure that his friend wouldn't draw too many odd stares, and brought enough of his meager pay to keep them fed for weeks, as well as afford whatever else might be necessary.
I will see you free again, my friend...
As though attracted by the sharp whistle of their train making ready for departure, Data Seven sprung onto the platform, about as inconspicuous as a pink elephant, attracting shouts and stares, and dislike all around.
Not bothering to scold someone who he relied on, Lucas tried to herd Data Seven into the rear car, setting all his luggage in compartments before he realized that he'd left the entire case of spare clothing on the platform in his rush. Both panther and conductor ignored his frantic grasping to get out of his seat and back onto the platform- the trip had already begun with a shrill whistle that pierced the slum that marred the nearby slope...
The final death screams of the Fixed Ideas still chilled Jose to the bone, and nearly made him forget about his anger. Now all his plans were ruined- without muscle, he could never seize control of the underworld, much less Meridiana. He was tearing his hair out, stomping down the alleyway, ignoring anyone else in this slum.
All this, because of Data Seven. If it took him forever, he would see that traitorous panther killed. But the small rational part of his brain could not see for the life of him how he was going to accomplish that without his father's inventions.
The cloud of self-pity and red-hot anger the boy had veiled himself in was dissipated by a shrill whistle- down a steep hill at the city limits; another train was pulling out, with more people than usual piling onto it. Even with the threat over, his father's Doom Island had caused a lot of people to question their safety in such a city.
Jose's eyes shot open. There, amidst the crowd, was Data Seven. Someone was ushering him into the train car despite his subtle protests. This train was headed for San Fran, practically a world away from Meridiana!
"No! You won't get away!" he protested loudly from the hilltop. Data Seven couldn't be allowed to just leave here! He had to stay where he could be killed for revenge!
Desperation fueled indignation, causing Jose to sprint down the steep hill at a clumsy half run-half roll, until he was skulking under the platform near the cars. Lacking, just for a moment, any care as to whether it was safe or not, Jose clung to the oily undercarriage of the train as though trying to wring Data Seven's neck. He was still there when the rails beneath him screeched against polished wheels, and the quest to rescue Cyber Six began.
M: Not much to say except for a slight spoiler- the Assassin is pursuing Data Seven as well.
Five