Bubble Gum Crisis
An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers 2034
Year of the Tiger
Neo No Armour Against Fate (Section 1 of 5)
Domino Effect (Part 3 of 6)
by Shawn Hagen(1997;1999;2005)

Based on Characters and Situations created by Suzuki Toshimichi.

Eyes fluttered open, dim light reached the receptors, amplified by the improved rod structures. She sat up, the blanket slid from her, pooling at her waist.

The panic of the first waking was gone. She knew what was happening, at least most of it. Although there was no immediate danger, she still felt something that she could only think of as fear. It was not too strong though.

Flipping the blanket off her legs, she swung them out of the bed, allowing her feet to touch the cool floor. She stood; her balance felt wrong to her but at the same time it was not a problem. She walked over to the wall near the door and touched the dimmer switch, then pressed the upper half of it, bringing the room lights up to full.

It was a hospital room. There was a bed, a small the table beside it, two chairs, and a tall cabinet-all had the sterile, clinical look of a hospital. There was a door near the bed, no doubt it led to the bathroom.

She walked across the room and pushed on the door. As she had expected it opened on a bathroom. She entered and walked to the bathtub.

Sitting down on the side of the tub, she reached out to the taps, turning them on. She played with them for a few moments, holding one hand under the stream of water, waiting until the temperature felt right. She stepped into the tub and pulled the valve out to switch the water flow to the shower.

For a time she remained under the flow of the warm water, simply enjoying the feel. It was like the first shower she had ever taken but that was ridiculous, she knew she had taken showers before. Truly she was not even sure why she was taking a shower other than the fact it seemed the right thing to do after waking. There were so many unknowns. She felt that she might be panicking if not for the calming influence of her housekeeping computer.

After a time she turned the taps off and stepped out of the tub. There were a number of towels on a nearby shelf. Taking one she began to dry her hair. It was longer than she felt was right, and the entire towel was damp by the time her hair was near dry. Everything seemed so odd to her.

Letting the towel drop she took another one and wrapped it around her chest, covering her breasts.

She looked around the bathroom but saw nothing else to interest her.

Back in the room she went through the bedside table's drawers, but they were empty. The cabinet revealed a set of clothing and a mirror on the inside of the door.

She pushed the door fully open so she could stand in front of the mirror.

The woman she saw looking back was very beautiful, perhaps a bit shorter in height than average but it was hard to tell. She had waist length black hair, deep green eyes and pale, pale skin.

Letting the towel drop she continued her examination. Athletic frame, the muscles in the body were well defined but not obtrusive. The thick, silky hair on her head was the only hair on her body. Small breasts, almost as if her body had been streamlined for movement.

There was something about the body that bothered her, it was not right. It took her a moment to realise that made sense. It was the bravo part of the protocol, it was not likely she would recognise it.

Then another thought occurred to her: the body was female. That was another thing that was wrong. Well, not wrong, just, odd...different. She was surprised it had taken her so long to become aware of that. She was also a little surprised that it seemed to matter. Shaking her head she turned to the clothing in the cabinet.

Loose pants and a loose top with a set of plain undergarments below them. She dressed quickly and without much thought. There was also a set of rubber soled slippers in the cabinet. She put them on and walked to the door.

When she tried to open it she found it locked. That caused her a moment of worry. She was locked in. Why?

There was a keypad beside it. Experimentally she reached out and touched one of the keys. As soon as she depressed it there was a click. Reaching down again she tried the door. It opened.

Standing out in the hall, obviously waiting for her, was D.

"How are you feeling?" D asked.

"I'm," she stopped, staring at the boomer across from her. "My housekeeping computer tells me that all systems are functioning within operational parameters. I guess that means I'm fine."

"Come along, we need to talk," D said, turning and walking down the hall.

There was no one about but them, it was still early, however. She looked around, almost remembering the place, but not sure. Most of the doors were unmarked in the facility, why give an invading force any benefits. She looked around, seeing all the areas where ambushes could be set up, the security set-ups, sentry guns emplacements...the entire place was designed as if the occupants expected an attack.

It's a very deadly game we play, she thought. The thought surprised her a little. What game? We? She was not quite sure of anything.

D stopped at a security door, removed a key card from her pocket and swiped it through the card reader. The door opened and she stood aside so the woman could enter.

She entered the room, looking around. It was an office and it felt familiar. Something told her that it was hers.

It was a spartan place, containing only the desk, a chair behind it and one in front of it. In other respects it was rather lavish. The desk was made of darkly stained oak, the thick, deep blue pile carpet covered the floor. The chair behind the desk was leather.

She walked around the desk and took a seat behind it. D closed the door and then sat down in front of the desk.

"You are D," she said after a few seconds.

"Yes."

"Who am I?"

"Brian J. Mason."

"Yes," she nodded after a moment. "But not really."

"Your memories are probably a little fuzzy at the moment, but they will become clear. A person, so I am told, is the sum total of their memories. Who else could you be?"

The young woman said nothing for a time, just considered the implications of what she had been told.

"What is it you want me to do?"

"I don't want you to do anything," D said. "I exist to serve you. It is part of my basic programming."

The woman gave her an odd look. "I don't understand."

"I will do my best to protect you. I will do as you ask."

She stared at the boomer for a moment. "I don't understand."

D might have sighed if she were human. Largo had not been like this, he had immediately started giving orders, but Largo had been flawed. There had been something else there.

She had gone to great lengths to ensure that no contaminants were in the copies that had been used, a slow load just to give the time needed for a thorough screening process. It had all been worth it. There were no outside influences.

That might be a problem, however. The young woman sitting in front of her was not being who she was supposed to be. D had considered the possibility though, and if she had to, she'd recreate Mason.

"Genom has closed down most of your network at this point, most of your operatives are dead. Every day they get closer and closer."

"Then we cut everything free and disappear."

"No," D said calmly. "That will not do. They will not forget this. If they discover who you are, even a small part of it, they will kill you."

The woman wanted to deny it but she knew it for the truth.

She was inexperienced; it was all too new to her. She was a little scared. There seemed to be no way to deal with the situation. Somewhere deep inside her panic was beginning to form. She had been given too much information all at once. She did not know how to deal with it

Then suddenly something changed. A set of protocols came into effect. They snapped a lid on her panic, on her emotions, everything suddenly became clearer. The confusing maelstrom of data began slipping neatly into place.

"Tell me of Alpha," she said calmly.

"There was more to the construct than just you alone," D said, satisfied. "The unit proved to be unstable in a number of ways."

"Define."

"He had delusions of godhood for one thing. He thought of himself as a superior being, the messiah to usher in a golden age for boomers. He wanted the OMS to achieve that. So he said."

"Interesting," the woman said after a moment. "But ultimately of little profit. How bad is our situation?"

"Ever since the Largo affair Genom has performed a rather efficient purge of all our interests. We are down to about twenty five point six eight three percent of our former holdings, give or take fraction here or there."

"How did this happen?" That cold voice was, like the purr from a tiger, not at all reassuring. D was happy to hear it though.

"Mostly it was Largo's fault. He was certain of his success in his venture and as a result was not too worried about how he used his resources. That brought a lot of unwanted attention, and after his failure, well, Genom might as well have had arrows pointing at where they should strike."

"This god part worries me. It does not sound like the proper frame of mind to do business."

"No, I suppose not."

"I want all the information you have to date on the world situation, on our situation, everything."

"It is on the computer. The password is 'William'," D said.

She nodded and turned her attention to the computer.

Several hours passed while the woman read the information the flowed across. D sat in the chair and said nothing. She just waited, noting little gestures, body language that the woman used that reminded her so much of Mason.

D would succeed this time. She was sure of it.

"Well this is certainly less than good," the woman, finally finished with the data, said. When D said nothing she continued. "We have almost no resources with which to run the operations we need to run. Anything we do will likely only cause Genom to pounce on us. The biggest problem though is total lack of projects. Genom's purge was rather thorough. That said, we still have options. What do you know of Aphros Industries?"

"Canadian Aerospace company, an up-and-comer of some note. They are in no way special."

"I would agree with you, if Knight-hakase had not left MRAStech to join Aphros Industries."

"Aphros Industries is working on a new control design," D told her. "One that will allow pilots much greater control over their aircraft and allow the aircraft to pilot themselves. It is similar to work that MRAStech is doing."

The sexaroid shook her head. "Knight-hakase did not specialise is such things. There is something else here."

"Are you sure?" D asked her.

She looked at D for a moment, saying nothing, then, "No, but what I know of Knight-hakase leads me to believe that there is something happening beyond the 'official' story. If there is something there, it may be what I need. If not, then there will probably be no harm done."

"How do you wish to do so?" D asked her.

"I'd like to take Aphros Industries over. Then we'd know everything we need to."

"It is a tightly held concern," D said. "Over sixty percent of the voting shares are held in trust for the family that started Aphros Industries."

"That makes it difficult, perhaps, but not impossible. I'll need all the information available about the family, and the current head of the company."

"We can do that, of course, but we lack the necessary manpower."

"We have money still. That is all we need for now." The woman paused, as if in thought. "I need to get back into Genom."

"One of the subsidiaries? Perhaps one of the Towers being constructed? I believe that Okinawa would be easiest."

"No. I want The Tower."

"Rather difficult," D told her.

"Nonsense, I have links into the highest level of Genom."

"Not since the Largo affair."

"I see." She put her fingers together, elbows on the desk, and put her chin onto the platform created. "All of them?"

"I can't be sure. I know the 23rd series of links is gone."

"I will just have to try the last series then and see if they are still active," she said, lifting her chin from her fingers.

"If they have been compromised we will be traced."

"He who dares, wins," she said quietly, turning her attention to the computer, entering the commands. "I'm in," she said after a moment. "Now let's see what they have left me."

"I don't think it will be much."

The woman worked for a time, not saying anything, then she looked up at D. "Unfortunately you are correct. With a little bit of work I can place myself in a mid-level executive position. Not quite as high as I would have liked."

"You'll need an identity of course."

"Yes. You killed of a number of my people to keep from being traced. Give me the names of all the women who are not listed as being dead."

As D recited the names, the woman across from her entered the information into the computer. As she entered the name a picture appeared. Domino looked at each one, deciding if she could pass herself off as the woman. Plastic surgery would be used to explain some differences, but it had to be close.

In the end she had three possibilities.

"Odotte Domino," she said.

"No one will find her body. She had no close friends, had long since cut her ties to her family."

"King Andrea?"

"Possible problems with her family. They have detectives looking for her."

"Onassis Gwen?"

"No real problems."

"I think Odotte would be the best," she said, looking at the file. "She is a little old, but I don't think that will present any difficulties in explaining. She had all the qualifications. I think she will do. Is it believable though, that she would return?" She looked up at D.

"A number have, Mason's wunderkind. None of them knew enough to be a threat to our operations so I did not feel the need to terminate them."

"Business degree from Toudai, Masters from Harvard. She will do I think. I'll leave it to you to take care of this." She got to her feet. "By tomorrow I want to be Odotte Domino, an employee of Genom. Do you understand D?"

"Yes, Odotte-sama."

"This body. Will Genom miss it?"

"The warehouse it was stored in was burnt to the ground. They should never realise it is gone."

"Did you arrange that cleanly?

"Prometheus Bound did it. I don't think anyone will question that."

"Prometheus Bound?"

"They are an anti-boomer terrorist group. Anti-Genom as well. They are world-wide, though the Chapters in Japan have not been as dangerous as the ones in other parts of the world until recently."

"You helped with that?"

"I just ensured that one of the more dangerous groups managed to procure some weapons and the information that pointed them at the warehouse."

"It can't be traced back to you?"

"I was very careful."

"Good. I'm going to be looking into Aphros Industries, and Knight-hakase," she, Domino, said as she got to her feet and turned around. She grasped the curtains there and pulled them back, looking out at a dirty alley and a brick wall. She was not seeing that though. She was seeing the Tower. She pictured it in her head, the huge edifice, the pyramid of the modern world, the Tower of Babylon, the Colossus, the new Fuji-san(mount Fuji). It was a place that would become legend. Those who ascended its heights would become legend. She felt something stir deep down where she had locked her emotions away. She did not know if it was fear or anticipation.

"Largo arranged for a back up. How did you know that? I can't see him having let you know," Domino asked.

"Andrews-sensei told me, Largo needed his assistance to set it up."

"And he was too valuable to kill afterwards so Largo had to trust him not to be a betrayer. The fool. Andrews-hakase was ushered to Mason on the winds of betrayal." She turned to look a D.

"Andrews-sensei said nearly the same thing when he told me of Largo's plans."

"I'm not surprised." Domino continued to stare at the wall. "He said almost the exact same thing when he told me-told Mason-about Stingray-hakase's advanced state of progress."

-

"You are quite sure Sylia-sama?" Shuji Okumoto asked, unable to hide a tremor of nervousness in his voice.

"Quite," Sylia told the older man.

"But their current offer is quite generous." He was being as polite as possible, worried about offending the woman on the opposite side of his desk.

"It is," Sylia agreed. "They will go higher though."

"It's a dangerous ploy. If they suddenly decide to back out, the properties could well become worthless." He pulled a handkerchief from a jacket pocket and wiped it over his balding head. Working for Sylia had made him wealthy but had given him three ulcers. She always managed to stay calm, no matter how vast the sums she dealt with. At least he was not her accountant. That was a job he would not wish on his worst enemies.

"They will not pull out," Sylia told him.

Wada considered asking her how she knew that but stopped himself before the words could form. He really did not want to know.

"Twice their current offer?" Shuji asked.

"At least," Sylia said.

"They have been asking questions about the owner, nothing strange but I think they would rather not have to deal with an intermediary." "Their desires do not concern me."

"Of course."

"The company in the Caymans is holding the deeds to the properties, the money will be transferred to it," Sylia said. She wondered if her lawyer knew that the company in the Caymans was a single room the size of a broom closet with a well programmed computer, twenty phone lines and a satellite uplink. She guessed that was something he would not want to know.

"Well, that is all I really need to know." He began to make some notes on a pad of paper on his desk.

"About the new properties?"

"Purchased as per your instructions." He turned his attention to the computer on his desk. "There were a number of questions. The reactor is a bit of a, what do they call it, 'white elephant'?" Shuji said.

"What did you tell them?" Sylia took two MMSDs-Mutli Media Storage Disks(devices)-from the table and put them into her blazer pocket.

"Condominiums." He smiled.

Sylia shook her head as she got to her feet.

"They actually believed it," he added.

"I'm not surprised. Good evening Okumoto-san." She left the office. Shuji quickly got to his feet, and bowed as she exited.

Sylia walked down the ill-lit hallway and across the worn carpet, towards the elevators. She wondered when Shuji was actually going to retire. He did not have the nerves for the sort of work Sylia had hired him for. He constantly worried about losing money, never being able to see the few losses Sylia had chosen to occur as potential gains.

He was still very good at his job and very loyal. Three times Sylia had tried to bribe him against herself through front men and he had never sold his loyalty. A person like that would be hard to replace.

As she waited at the elevator doors, waited for the car to make its slow, jerking way to the floor, Sylia considered the holding company in the Caymans.

Several government agencies-of more than one government-were beginning to put out feelers in the direction of the fake corporation she had set up to funnel money into numbered Swiss bank accounts. After this transaction was finished she would have to send the codes to the computer; the ones that would wipe the memory and set off the small EMP generator that would seal the computer's fate.

Why can't tax evasion be easy? Sylia wondered as the elevator doors opened in a series of jerks. She stepped into the car, wishing, not for the first time, that Shuji had chosen better for office space.

A minute later she was stepping out into the lobby, her high heels clicking loudly against the finely cracked tile of the floor. She pushed through the swinging doors, out of the dimly lit interior and into the riot of light from the many neon signs in the area, the noise from the many revellers in the area, entering or exiting the many bars.

Sylia looked around, not really seeing much of it. Her mind was on the reactor and how it might serve her. Assuming no major changes, it would be of use to her for at least two years. After that she would either sell it for a profit or use it as tax write off.

She played so many separate games, all linked together by a web that had been ultimately spun by her father. His ghost haunted her still. She was sure it always would.

How had Hamlet felt when his father's shade had pointed at his murderer? she wondered.

Pointless question, she decided, reaching in her purse of her keys. She had no time for pointless questions.

-

Mackie lay on his futon, reading the information that scrolled across the screen of his PC. He reread the passage that interested him then shifted around on the bed, entering a few facts into his laptop.

He shifted around once again, picking up a pen and making a few more notes on a pad of paper. He looked up, chewing on the end of the pen, a far away look in his eyes.

Around him, on his walls were a number of posters, mostly popular idol singers but there were also blow ups of the technical specs for the motoroids, one for the late and lamented Highway Star, one for the Sky Carrier and another for a very large motoroid design. Amongst those were laser-printed photos of Linna and Priss, both in states of undress. The pictures had been taken when the women had been readying to suit up. As he had a few of Sylia-although he never put those up on the wall as she sometimes came into his room, all he needed was a good one of Nene to complete his collection. The redhead seemed adept at avoiding the cameras though.

His eyes refocused and locked on one of the blow-ups of the motoroids. He turned back to make a few more notes on the paper, one of which was to take the tech specs off the wall and shred them, then shifted back to his PC, brushing his black hair out of his eyes.

The materials study he was currently interested covered a new ceramic composite. He was fairly sure that it could be used to increase the armour protection on the motoroids, at least on some areas. It did not have the necessary flexibility for complete coverage, however. One of the problems with the design of a transforming weapons system.

Every few weeks he would put together a report for Sylia about potential improvements they could make in the motoroids, occasionally the hardsuits. He left the hardsuits to Sylia for the most part though-they were her speciality, after all-and he liked the larger weapon systems so much more. He also was sure he could surpass his sister's designs.

He was thinking about searching for a materials study on a new plastic he had read about in another article when his NAVI buzzed.

The Notebook Audio Visual Interface had recently become the craze, almost replacing cellular phones over night. Part vid phone, part computer, part pocket secretary and more, they were becoming more common by the day.

He had tied his into most of the phones in the apartment. Pulling the palm sized NAVI from his pocket he flipped it open. A call on one of Sylia's secure lines, one that went to one of the computers. The computer accepted the call and Mackie could tell information was being downloaded into the system.

He wondered just what was up. Probably a new job offer.

Looking at the specs on the wall he wondered if he would get a chance to make any of the changes he wanted. Sylia did not like him making any modifications to the weapons while they were involved in a job.

Something the think about later, he thought, folding the NAVI up.

-

"I'm home," Sylia called as she entered the penthouse.

"Welcome home," Mackie called back from somewhere, probably the kitchen.

Sylia took off her shoes, the stepped out of the genkan. After arranging her shoes neatly she walked towards the kitchen.

"You got a message on one of the computers," Mackie said as he placed some sliced ham on his sandwich.

"Oh," Sylia walked over to the coffeepot, pleased to note that Mackie had made a fresh pot.

"Fargo I think."

Sylia nodded. "Thank you," she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Anything else?"

"Nothing important."

Sylia nodded as she put the coffee pot back in the machine. She picked up her coffee cup and left the kitchen, walking to her office. She sat down, placed her coffee cup on a coaster, then turned to her computer. It did not take her long to open up the data packet that had been sent to her.

As Mackie had suspected, it was from Fargo. A job offer, and one that interested her.

She had heard, through second hand sources, that Sharon Knight had left MRAStech-a company that her father had helped found. That she had gone to work for Aphros Industries, or that she was in Tokyo, was news to her.

It was a simple enough job. Find out what Knight-hakase was doing in Japan. Sylia was curious herself. She looked through the data packet, but Fargo did not know who her ultimate employer was. It had come through channels.

That she was being offered the job interested her. Such work was not normally in the Knight Sabers' area of speciality. Not that they could not do it. Perhaps her employer, whoever he or she was, suspected the possibility of armed conflict and wanted a team that could fight if necessary.

She reached for her coffee cup as she looked over the information presented on the computer screen. As she took a drink she decided she get Fargo to do some more checking. Before she took the job she would really like to know who was hiring her, but her own curiosity was aroused.

If she was going to do it anyway, she might as well get paid for it.

Sylia reached over and brought her address book up on her phone. It took her a minute to find Richard Mastason's number. The management program in the phone had moved the number into the unused number section. Well, it had been a long time since she had made any contact with her father's friends and colleagues.

She looked at her watch, it was a little after nine. It would be a little after one in the afternoon in Berlin. She tapped on Richard's business number and let the phone dial for her. After three rings someone on the other end picked up. The screen remained blank so either he was using a phone without a visual feed, or the feed was turned off.

"Hello," Sylia said in English-her German was not what it once had been. "This is Sylia Stingray, I'd like to talk to Dr. Mastason."

"Sylia?" she heard a familiar voice say. The screen flickered on revealing the face of Richard Mastason. He looked a little older than Sylia remembered, but only a little. There was some grey in his brown hair, and the lines around his eyes were deeper, but other than that he had not changed much. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

"I'm fine Dr. Mastason. You look well."

"I can't complain. So, what is up?"

"I was hoping you could give me a little help."

"Oh?"

"I've been doing a little research on my own, nothing very big of course, but there have been a few ideas I've had."

"Research?"

"Concerning my father's work."

"I see," he said, becoming a little more animated. "That is quite interesting. What are you doing?"

"It's mostly theoretical work, looking at behaviour patterns at some of the malfunctioning units."

"A look at some of the curious rampages that have occurred in MegaTokyo?"

"Not just the rampages," Sylia told him.

"Interesting."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, yes I do Sylia."

"I was wondering if you'd look it over for me?"

"I would be happy to."

"Thank you. Perhaps you could also give a copy to Dr. Knight for me?" Sylia said.

"Ah, that would be a problem."

"Oh?"

"Dr. Knight has left MRAStech."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he told her. "We were often having disagreements over questions of ethics. I'm not surprised she chose to leave. She went to work for Aphros Industries. I would think they could help you get in contact with her."

"Thank you. I'll fax you the paper in a few minutes."

"I'll be waiting. It was good to hear from you Sylia. How is your brother?"

"Mackie is fine."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it."

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else Sylia?"

"No, that is it, for now."

"I'll be waiting for your paper."

"Thank you Dr. Mastason. Goodbye."

"Bye," he said, and cut the connection.

Sylia cut the connection on her side, then leaned back in her chair. Interesting, she thought. Then she reached over to a stack of files on her desk. She was going to have to choose one of her papers to send off.

She had never planned on sharing the papers that she occasionally wrote, but she was going to need a blind in order to meet with Dr. Knight. It would be the easiest way to perform the initial reconnaissance.

-

January 14th, Saturday, 8:46am

Not so long ago she had simply had a serial number. Now she had a name and a history. Domino Odotte. The man across from her, Genom security, was asking a lot of questions about that history, and about Mason. He was the sort of man who could make people nervous, make the sweat.

Coming back into the Tower had required no small amount of work. It was all a formality though. The information she had placed in the Genom computers covered her.

So she answered the questions, meeting the man's gaze, never looking away, keeping a dead pan look on her face. Every time he tried to shock her, surprise her, put her off guard, her expression never changed. She could see he was beginning to sweat.

-

"You've sent most of my staff away," Sharon said.

"You don't need them now," Terrence told her.

"That is true."

"Now we have fewer possibilities of security leaks. Less chance of another case like Mr. North."

"I see. A good idea."

"It is what I am here to deal with."

"You're not really part of Aphros are you?"

"Why would you think that?"

"A company like Aphros Industries would not need someone like you. A company like Aphros Industries would not need work like mine."

"Perhaps Aphros is trying to become what it is not," he told her.

"It's very curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity Doctor," he told her as he stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I have some things to look into."

"You are, as they say, ever vigilant."

"It is what I am paid for. Good day." He nodded to her, then turned and walked from her office.

Sharon watched him go, wondering if he was angry with her. She wondered if he still trusted her, if he had ever trusted her. Terrence, as well as a few other people within Aphros confused her. The offer from Aphros had confused her. Why would an aerospace space company want her project? And then she found out the majority of the people with Aphros thought she was working on a new control system.

A few, like Terrence, knew the truth, but hid it from the others.

There was more going on than she knew. Terrence's questions about whether her work could be expanded to boomers had confused her. It still did. She was certain that they were not telling her everything. Of course, she was not telling them everything either.

She got to her feet and turned to look out her window. She was on the fourth floor of an eight-story office building. Aphros had bought it for her when she told them that she wanted to work in MegaTokyo, and that she had wanted space. What those who believed that she was working on a control system must have thought Sharon did not know. Nor did she care. That was for Terrence and his friends to deal with.

The building had come through the quake in good condition, but the same could not be said for the other buildings in the area. They had been torn down and the rubble carted away, leaving an empty space about the building, waiting for Genom to come and rebuild the area. Already she could see the work beginning. Heavy construction equipment had been moved into the area, ready for the work crews that would arrive in a few weeks.

She had been a little surprised by all that empty space at first. Terrence had told her it allowed them a clear view of everything about them. It made sure he knew if anyone was watching them. It seemed a little paranoid to her, but she had decided that he knew his business.

Sharon returned to her chair and sat down, shifting the chair back and putting her feet up on her desk. Reaching into the pocket of her lab coat Sharon pulled out a glass vial the size of one of her fingers. It was filled with de-ionised water, within which were tiny, black flakes. Hard to see with the naked eye, but there were so many suspended in the liquid she could see them.

She turned the vial upside down, watching as the black flakes flee down through the water to gather near the cap. She turned the vial again, smiling as the flakes tumbled though the water.

They did not look it, but they had the potential to be one of the more powerful weapon systems on the modern battlefield. They could make her rich, and probably would. In the end she had Katsuhito Stingray to thank for the idea.

During his early work with MRAStech-working with Dr. Mastason, Dr. Andrews, and whoever the R was in MRAStech-Dr. Stingray had looked a number of models for artificial intelligence. One was a parasitic fluke. Tiny creatures that could co-opt the nervous system of another creature-ants in the case he was studying-to get it to behave in ways that were detrimental to the ants survival, but necessary for the fluke.

It had been just another dead end in his work towards artificial intelligence. He had written a few papers on possible applications, then had abandoned it for something new.

Sharon had come to MRAStech late in the early history. She had only worked with Katsuhito for a few months before he left Germany and MRAStech, leaving for Japan, to found Wiz Labs.

With the crowning genius of MRAStech gone the company had lowered its sights.

When Sharon had discovered some of Katsuhito's early work she had seen possibilities and applications in the work she did not think that Katsuhito had ever thought of. The problem was Richard Mastason also saw those applications and realised how the work might be misused.

As much as she tired to convince him of the value of the work, he refused to allow her to do any research. There was too much potential for misuse.

Then Aphros Industries had come along and asked her to come work for them. They needed her expertise with human/computer interfaces for a new control system. She would have refused if Terrence Lecoix had not approached her to make an interesting addition to the offer.

Which was how she had ended up in MegaTokyo, working on a project of dubious, ethical properties.

Her phone began to buzz, startling her from her thoughts. She reached over and picked up the handset.

"Hello, Knight here," she said. The screen was displaying an image of a young woman with blue-black hair and light brown eyes. Something about her was familiar.

"Knight-hakase," the woman said. "I'm Sylia Stingray. I was wondering if I could take up a little of your time?"

"Dr. Stingray's daughter? Sylia? Well this is an interesting surprise," Sharon took her feet from her desk. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could read a paper I am thinking of submitting for publication," Sylia said nervously. "I've called some of Otousama's friends to ask them to take a look at it. I called Mastason-hakase and sent him a copy. He told me you had left and had gone to work for Aphros Industries. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind. I'd be interested in taking a look at this paper. It would be the least I could do. Your father taught me a lot." Sharon smiled at the young woman, hoping to make her feel less ill at ease. She wondered how far the seed had fallen from the tree, as it were.

"I could bring it to you. Oh, I'm sorry, that would be such an imposition. I could email it."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you should come over."

"As long as it's all right?"

"I have a bit of free time. Do you need the address?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Here." Sharon pressed a few buttons on her phone, activating a program that not only sent the address to Sylia's phone but also directions from where she was calling from and a map. "When can I expect you?"

"Would two hours be all right? In case I get lost."

"I'll be expecting you."

"Thank you very much." Sylia bowed her head.

"See you soon." Sharon cut the connection.

Well now, Katsuhito's daughter, she thought. This would be interesting. She reached forward, tapping in a number on the phone. She'd have to make sure that Terrence knew they were expecting a guest. He could be quite bothersome if anything happened that he was not informed of.

-

Sylia cradled the phone, the nervousness she had been affecting disappearing.

The laser printer had finished producing a map to Dr. Knight's place of work-not that Sylia needed it. She had been watching the building on real time, satellite feed since the morning. She knew exactly where it was.

Now she had a way into the building. Hopefully she would learn what she had to with just the visit. She doubted that would be the case, but it never hurt to try. At least she would be able to get a feeling for the building.

Turning the screen off, Sylia got to her feet. She picked up the map and the paper resting beside it.

She picked up her purse from the floor and headed out of the penthouse.

-

Linna spun about, keeping her arm movements crisp and perfect. Her legs, however, felt a little off. She was misstepping ever so slightly, and it was putting her out of the pattern she wanted. Everything should be moving about a centre but instead she was spiralling outwards from that point. Each step put her farther from where she wanted to be.

The music finally ended and Linna sat down, taking deep breaths. The work was hard and the audition only two days away. She did not feel ready, but she was going to have to be. This was about her dreams. About her one dream. She wanted it.

She reached over to her bag and took out a bottle of water. As she drank the cool liquid she wondered, for the first time, what she might do if she got the place? It was going to be hard work and take up a lot of her time. A lot of it. Would she have time for the Knight Sabers?

Of course she would. Priss maintained a similar career with her music. Then again Priss upset a lot of club owners by blowing her obligations off. She was very good though and the club owners ultimately needed her more than she needed them. Linna did not think she would be in such an enviable situation.

What if she did not have time for the Knight Sabers? Would Sylia make allowances for that or would she request that Linna resign? That was not something she had thought about.

"No!" she said, banging her fist against her head. She did not need to be worried about things like that. Not when she had so many other things to worry about. If things came down to that she would deal with the problem when it came up, and not before. She needed to give all her attention to her dancing, and nothing else. She had to get the position. She had to!

Linna capped the water bottle and was putting it back in her bag when her NAVI began to chime softly. Shaking her head she pulled it out of her bag, flipped it open and tapped the accept button. "Moshi, moshi, Yamazaki desu."

"Linna-san," she heard Nene say. "Nene desu. Give me Visual."

Linna smiled as she activated the camera and accepted the feed from the other unit. Linna left her visual feed off as a matter of course. She had a habit of taking calls while in the bath. Nene's face appeared on the screen.

"Linna-san, about tonight..."

"Damn," Linna said, suddenly remembering what day it was.

"What?" Nene moved in closer to her NAVI's camera, her face filling the screen. There was a slight 'goldfish bowl' effect and Nene's eyes got huge.

"Nene-chan," Linna laughed, putting a hand on her head. "Sorry, but tonight I'm a little busy..." she told her.

"Ohh," Nene said, sounding a little sad.

"You could go alone," Linna suggested.

"But, it's a little, well..."

"Nene-chan," Linna said crossly.

"But it is a Saturday night," Nene said. "Everyone will be out there. You know what that crowd is like."

"Nene-chan baka," Linna shook her head.

Nene just looked sad. Linna shook her head and smiled. "Maybe we can work something out," Linna told her.

"Really?"

"I'll see what I can do. Get back to you in a few minutes."

"Hai," Nene said, smiling.

Linna cut the connection and leaned back against the wall. She and Nene had been making trips into the wilds of Shinjuku for several months. It had become something of an event. Of course she was too busy to make it that night and Nene was not one to handle Shinjuku well by herself. It was not that there was any real danger, but the crowd there, especially on a Saturday night, tended to be quite wild.

She sighed and tapped a number into her NAVI and waited for the person on the other line to pick up.

"What?" an angry voice asked. There was no visual feed icon, the person on the other end was using an old fashioned cellular.

"Priss-san," Linna said happily. "Linna-desu."

"It's not even noon yet," Priss said.

"Sorry I woke you. I need a favour. You owe me one."

"I thought you owed me one," Priss said, sounding like she was about to go back to sleep.

"Well, then I'll owe you another," Linna said and began to outline what she needed as fast as she could. All she had going for her was speed and the fact that Priss was half-asleep and her defences would be down.

-

Sylia stood near her dark blue Mazda sedan, examining the building through a pair binoculars-she stood behind a pile of rubble for cover. Her fingers lightly tapped the zoom button until the front doors filled her view. The image was blurry and grainy at first but after a moment it came into focus.

It looked rather innocent at first, but Sylia could just make out a figure standing beyond the front doors. It was hard to tell much about the figure, but Sylia suspected he or she was standing guard.

She pulled the focus back, looking at the building as a whole. There were a number of cameras on the building, as well as some other security measures. A surprising amount of security, all things considered.

Sylia took the binoculars from her eyes and turned them off. She walked down the small hill that hid her car from anyone watching from the building.

As she got into the car, Sylia slid the binoculars under her seat. She pulled the driver's door closed and considered what she had found so far. It was not very much, but she was getting curious.

Sylia started her car, then put it in gear and pulled away from the cover she had been using. Turning the wheel sharply she pulled out of the old parking, dropping down into a dip. She circled around, finally coming over a rise, and into view of the building.

There were only a few cars in the parking lot so she had no problem finding a spot near the front entrance.

She exited the car, setting the alarm with the key chain remote. The car beeped at her, indicating the alarm was on. Sylia put her keys into her purse as she walked towards the doors and entered the building.

The figure she had seen earlier moved out of the shadow. A man of average height, wearing a dark suit that poorly concealed the pistol under his arm, moved to intercept her. "Excuse me," he said. "This is a private building."

"I think I'm expected," Sylia told him. "Knight-hakase invited me. My name is Stingray."

"Sylia Stingray?"

"Yes," she said, nodding.

"You are expected Stingray-san. Please, come this way." He used his hand to indicate the elevator doors then he walked towards them. Sylia followed him.

When they got close to the elevator the doors opened. Another man was standing within the elevator. He was tall, with light brown hair and café-au-lait coloured skin. "Stingray-sama," he said in accented Japanese. "I am Lecoix, Knight-hakase asked me to escort you to her office. Please," he said, stepping back, indicating that she should step into the car.

Sylia hesitated for a moment. The way the man had looked at her, the way he had said her name, it was a little strange. There was something, well, almost demanding to it. She told herself it was probably just her imagination, and then she stepped into the car.

Terrence looked at the man who had escorted Sylia to the elevator. He nodded, and then turned to return to his position by the door. Terrence pressed a button to close the doors, and then turned the key above the panel before pressing the button for the fourth floor. "I hope you'll excuse all this, but this is a very secure building."

"I understand," Sylia told him.

"I'm glad you do," he said, smiling.

Sylia again felt a little uncomfortable about the way he looked at her. It was a little too familiar for her tastes.

Before it could get too uncomfortable the elevator stopped and the doors opened to the fourth floor.

"Please," he indicated that Sylia should exit the elevator. She did so as Terrence removed his key from the control panel and the stepped out with her. "This way Stingray-sama." He started down corridor to their right. Sylia followed a step behind him. She looked about as she went, making it look like idle curiosity, noting the various security measures that had been set up in the hallways.

"Here we are," Terrence said as he stopped in front of one of the doors. He reached out and knocked on it.

A moment later they both heard a muffled, "Enter."

Terrence opened the door, then stood aside so Sylia could enter.

"Miss Stingray," Sharon said. She was standing behind her desk.

"Knight-hakase," Sylia replied, bowing.

"Please come in," Sharon said.

"Thank you." Sylia stepped into the office.

"Mr. Lecoix, thank you for escorting my guest up here," she said as way of dismissal.

Terrence paused for a moment, then nodded. "Of course Dr. Knight," he said, stepping back, pulling the door closed.

"I hope I am not interrupting any of your work," Sylia said.

"Not at all," Sharon told her. "Please, have a seat."

Sylia walked across the office and took a seat in the chair that Sharon had indicated.

"Now," Sharon said as she sat down, "let's see that paper you told me about."

Sylia removed several sheets of folded up paper from her purse and handed them across the desk to Sharon.

She took them and placed them down on her desk, unfolding them. From a pocket in her blazer she produced a pair of gold rimmed glasses and then put them on.

"It will take me a little while to give this a quick read," she said absently. "Make yourself comfortable, there's a pot of coffee by the door."

Sylia nodded as she got up from her seat and turned to the small table Sharon had indicated. She walked over to it and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a small taste then a larger one once she realised how good it was. It reminded her that her father had once told her, in context of telling her about a number of his colleagues, that Sharon Knight had made some of the best coffee he had ever tasted.

She wondered around the room, looking at the books that lined the shelves in her office. It was a varied selection, though there was slight leaning towards books on artificial intelligence. She noted that the books on one section of shelves had very little dust on them compared to the other books.

A book of general anatomy, another on the anatomy of the brain, two of boomer research and the last was a collection of a set of essays on the design of very small robots. She wished she could take a look at the library the woman was bound to have on her computer. That was no doubt where she would have done most of her research.

After a few more minutes of aimless wandering Sylia returned to her seat and then feigned nervousness.

Nearly twenty minutes later Sharon looked up at Sylia. She placed the paper on her desk and removed her glasses.

"What do you think?" Sylia asked.

"I don't think you will have any problem getting this published," Sharon told her. "In fact I think once the journals begin to hear you are looking to publish this they will come to you. I hesitate to use the word genius but there are few others that would do you justice."

"Do you really think so?"

"It is a very good paper, no doubt." She stood. "If you can take some of the ideas you raise to their full extent you could make some real breakthroughs in the field. You truly are your father's daughter." She circled around the desk so she was standing by Sylia's chair.

"Thank you," Sylia put a slightly stunned tone in her voice.

"Don't mention it," Sharon told her, smiling down at Sylia.

"Oh!" Sylia said as she looked over at the clock on the wall. "Is it really that late?" She looked at her watch. "I'm very sorry Knight-hakase, I have to leave." Sylia got to her feet.

"Of course." Sharon smiled slightly. "Do you mind if I keep the paper, I wouldn't mind giving it a more in depth read."

"Please do," Sylia said as she walked to the door. "Thank you very much Knight-hakase, I'm sorry I have to leave so abruptly." Sylia bowed, and then opened the door.

"You are welcome," Sharon told her. "Mr. Lecoix should be waiting by the elevator."

"Thank you," Sylia said again as she stepped through the doorway and then pulled the door closed.

Sharon shook her head, still smiling. The young woman might have her father's genius but she did not have his composure. Returning to her seat behind the desk Sharon began to re-read the paper.

In the hall Sylia walked towards the elevators. As she had been told, Terrence was waiting for her by the elevator. As he escorted her down to the lobby she maintained the slightly stunned look that she felt would be appropriate for someone who had just been told what she had been told.

Terrence wished her well as she left the building. Sylia thanked him and walked towards her car.

She deactivated the alarm, unlocked the doors and started the engine with her remote as she approached the car. She pulled the door open and got inside. Soon she was leaving the area behind, driving back towards central Tokyo.

Well, her trip to Doctor Knight's place of work had provided her with some useful information. The security was impressive. It would be difficult to defeat. The computer in Dr. Knight's office probably had the information she was looking for, though Sylia could not be sure. Also, there was not much of a staff at the building. She had seen no evidence of other researchers, had not heard people talking, nor had she seen anyone beyond Dr. Knight, Mr. Lecoix and that one security man.

There were probably more security people there, but what about the researchers? It was certainly odd. She thought about what Dr. Mastason had told her about the arguments over ethics he and Dr. Knight had had. What sort of research might the woman be involved in?

There were too many possibilities to consider, and Sylia's mind was beginning to drift to other things.

The paper she had given to Dr. Knight had been very good. She had known that previously. She had written nearly twenty more, taking her theories to their full extent, nearing the breakthroughs that Dr. Knight had talked about.

She told Mackie that she avoided boomer research because she refused to work for Genom-another lie in itself. He believed it. Genom had their father's work so closely tied to them that anyone doing boomer research was working for Genom in the end.

Even if she did not submit the paper to a journal she knew Genom would find out the results. She would have to increase the security on her computer systems. Genom would likely be sniffing around them soon.

But her desire not to work for Genom was only a small part of why she stayed away from boomer research. The true reason was that she doubted herself every time she did such work.

Her father had initially inflicted great pain on her with the data dump. He had tortured her with his memories of her mother. And perhaps worse of all he had crippled her with self-doubts that she barely kept under control.

Was that work of genius she had given to Dr. Knight the work of Sylia Stingray or was it the work of Katsuhito Stingray? It was a question she had asked herself when she wrote all the papers. It was a question that forced her to end the research before she took it to the breakthrough conclusion.

Through high school she had always wondered if her high marks were the result of her genius or her father's? Her friends had thought her modest, quietly confident, when she seemed to take little pride in her academic accomplishments. The truth that Sylia had hidden from them was that she lived in constant doubt of her abilities, a fear that she was nothing without the data her father had forced into her mind. That Sylia Stingray had ceased to truly exist on that day she hit the enter key to discover what was on a data cartridge her father had sent her.

She had taken a leave of absence from her university after two years. While she had told herself it was to form the group that was to become the Knight Sabers she had always known the truth.

Her top marks in University caused her the same distress as her top marks in high school had. She had given up.

In a way forming the Knight Sabers had been therapeutic for her. She had chosen the members; she had brought them together. Her father may have provided the technology, the weapons, but she, Sylia Stingray, had found the warriors to use them. Had moulded them into her own weapon. Against Genom, against the abuse of her father's discoveries, against the insanity that often thought threatened to claim her.

Sylia realised she was no longer moving. She had pulled the car off to the side of the road, the four way flashers blinking. Her knuckles were white from the force with which she gripped the steering wheel.

Loosening her hands from their grip on the wheel she reached down shut off the flashers and put the car back into gear. A moment later she signalled and merged back into the flow of traffic.

She was going to have to take a closer look at Dr. Knight's work, Sylia thought.

-

Sharon put the papers to the side. The girl was a genius. She was considering applications that her father had never thought of. She thought about calling her to tell her that but decided she had wasted enough time with the past. She had her future to look to.

I wish you more luck than I had Sylia, Sharon thought as she placed the papers on her desk. She leaned back in her chair. "But perhaps you will destroy dreams as well?"

-

Priss leaned against the wall near the West Entrance of the My Lord department store. She still could not believe that she had let Linna talk her into it. It was testament to the fact she should not take phone calls before noon. She looked down at her watch, wondering if Nene was going to be late.

"Priss-san," she heard.

Looking up, she spotted Nene moving through the crowd, heading towards her. She was prompt, Priss noted. There was something odd about the redhead, something about her hair. Then she realised it was not her hair. Nene had cat ears.

"Konbanwa Priss-san," Nene said.

"What are those?" Priss said, staring at the ears on Nene's head.

"Aren't they cute?" she smiled. "They're holograms, these clips have small projectors in them," she touched a clip in her hair, causing the right ear to waver for a moment.

"That is the most stupid thing I have ever seen."

"They are not," Nene said.

"I hope they don't become popular," Priss said as she turned around and walked towards the stairs.

"They probably will," Nene said, smiling. "You should buy a pair."

"I'll remember that. Where do you want to go?"

"Kabuki-Cho."

"Living dangerous. One of the hostess bars?"

"There is more to Kabuki-Cho then the Hostess bars," Nene said. "Of course maybe you wouldn't know that."

"Keep it up ojou-chan," Priss said. "I'll feed you those hair clips."

"You are so very scary," Nene laughed.
"You are talking pretty tough for someone who was too afraid to come here on her own," Priss said, starting down the stairs.

"I'm not afraid," Nene said.

"Then why am I here."

"I just don't like being here alone. It's just too much."

Priss shook her head. While Shinjuku was always a busy place, it was ultimately harmless. Oh, there were some dark places-Priss knew them all-and there were a few bad types, but Nene would have to be incredibly unlucky or stupid to find them. Which might explain why she was there after all.

Priss reached street level and headed down one of the brightly lit streets, past the pachinko parlours and the vending machines. Nene beside her, looking around at everything. She wanted to point something out every few seconds, drawing Priss' attention to it. Priss was surprised to see things she had never bothered to take the time to notice before. Being in Shinjuku with Nene was like being in a different place.

The crowd was a Saturday night crowd. Everyone was there that night. Students and salarymen. Office Ladies and obaa-sans(old women/housewives). They were all there in their own high or low fashions. Some made Nene's cat ears looks actually sane. Priss knew the crowd. She had been playing to it on street corners when she was sixteen. Nene might find it a little intimidating, but in ways Priss was actually contemptuous of it. Too many people there trying to find something that they never would.

A crowd of bosozoku(bikers) sent Nene to the edge of the sidewalk to circle around them, but not Priss. She pushed through them, meeting challenging stares and they backed down. The suicide bikers did not bother her. Most would be working respectable jobs in a few years, complaining about wild kids. Or they would be dead. That was the way it seemed to work. Priss did not feel anything on common with them. Her gang had been different.

Nene led them into Kabuki-Cho, and-Priss was not surprised-right to an ice cream place.

"Don't you have a test or something tomorrow?" Priss asked her, stabbing her spoon into the bowl of ice cream she had ordered.

"Yes," Nene said, licking her cone, getting some of the strawberry ice cream on her nose. "I told my kaa-san that I was going to the library to study."

"Living dangerously," Priss said, heavy sarcasm in her tone.

"You'd be surprised."

"Genom make those stupid things?" Priss used her spoon to indicate the cat ears Nene was wearing.

"Yes. They are going to use the holographic projectors in their next generation of NAVI. They have some interesting software for them when they come out, Sim Pets."

"What?"

"Holographic pets."

"You're joking?"

"No," Nene shook her head.

"Fake pets. Just what this city needs."

"You should get one," Nene said, smiling. "It would give you something to pour all those excess maternal feelings you have."

Priss moved forward and grabbed Nene's jacket. Nene screamed, and laughed, as she closed her eyes and put her hands in front of her face, dropping her ice cream cone. "Sorry."

Priss shook her head, smiling slightly, and let Nene's jacket go.

"Ahh, darn," Nene said, looking at her ice cream cone lying on the floor.

"Here," Priss said, pushing her ice cream towards Nene.

"You can actually be civil sometimes you know," Nene said as she brought a spoonful of ice cream to her mouth.

"Don't ever bank on it."

"Ahh!" Nene exclaimed around the ice cream in her mouth.

"What now?" Priss asked.

"Second hand kiss," Nene said, holding the spoon.

Priss grabbed Nene's jacket again prompting another scream, though that time Nene managed to keep her dessert.

-

"Where are we going?" Nene asked.

"Not to another toy store," Priss said.

"It was not a toy store," Nene said.

"How do you explain the teddy bears?"

"Decoration," Nene said. "So where are we going Priss-oneechan?"

"Do you give Linna this much grief?"

"You're not Linna."

"If only you could be this tough when we were facing boomers," Priss said softly, more to herself than anyone. She turned and walked into a brightly-lit game centre.

"A game centre?"

"New game out I want to try," Priss said.

Nene shrugged her shoulders. A video game seemed like a fun way to spend a few minutes.

"Priss-san," the young man at the greeting counter said as soon as he saw her.

"They know you by name?" Nene asked.

"I like shooting games," Priss said as if that explained it all. "Kenta, got the new one in a private room?"

"Yeah. Three is set up," he tossed her a key card. "We've been saving this one for you."

"Liar," Priss said as she grabbed the card. "Come on," she said to Nene, "let's see if it's as good as they say."

On the way Priss stopped to get a game credit card, only putting a few hundred yen on it. Nene got one with several thousand. There were several private game rooms off to one side of the centre. Priss walked to one of the doors, ran the key card through the reader, then pushed the door open.

Inside was the standard set up. A very large screen on one wall, the game controls in the centre, with the virtual rigs if one wanted to use them. They were a very simple design, wrap around glasses with earphones and a radio link.

"What's the game?" Nene asked as she closed the door behind her.

"It's called 'Milton'," Priss told her. "Reference to Paradise Lost. Kind of a shoot your way out of hell game."

"Which hell?"

"I suspect they are all alike in the end," Priss said, picking up the game gun. It was shaped like a shotgun and weighed about the same as one.

"Playing it virtual?" Nene asked as she picked up the glasses and gave them a look over. Ultimately disposable, but reasonable quality.

"Might as well. I'm paying for the gear," she pushed her game credit card into the pay slot. She tucked the gun into the crook of her arm, then put the glasses on. Nene watched as she moved her free hand through the air, stabbing at nothing. There was no need for gloves or any thing like that. Sensors in the room read Priss' movement.

Nene pushed her card into the slot, then put on the glasses.

Priss had been right. Hellscape. They seemed to become popular every now and then. Very nice graphics, she noted. The thing was probably run by the new Sony engine with some powerful processors behind it. There was a slight ghost image of the real room they were in, but it was hardly noticeable unless she was paying attention to it.

Priss stood beside her, but in the VR setting she wore an armoured breastplate of some plastic like material, and a set of combat fatigues. Nene knew her own icon wore similar clothing. She briefly wondered if her cat ears were visible or not?

"Okay," Priss said. "Let's go," she reached out and stabbed a start button. Nene reached down and grabbed her weapon.

The controls were all on the weapon. Walking, running, and other movements like that were controlled by several buttons. Actions like ducking and aiming were handled by actually moving. Nene, who had played no few of those games, thought it was a good set up. Easy to use and fairly good at simulating a real situation. Not perfect, but she didn't care.

It was a fun enough game, a little too high on the gore level for Nene's taste, but she had sort of expected that. The real entertainment was watching Priss play.

Priss' reaction times were fast, but it was other things that gave her control over the game. She never missed, she seemed to have a sixth sense about ambushes and she knew when to duck and what weapon to use. Nothing stopped her and she went farther and farther into the game.

On the other hand Nene quickly found her card depleted and had to leave the game for a short while to get more game credit on the card. Fortunately there was a machine in the room. In the end she just followed after Priss, letting her clear the way while she watched their back trail. Not that there was much to watch after Priss had finished up with things.

An hour later they had reached the end of the game and Priss finished off the last monster quickly enough. The ending segment began to play but Priss' icon winked out as she pulled off the VR glasses. Nene watched, doubting that she would ever get a chance to see them again. When they ended she took off the glasses and placed them down.

"That was fun," Priss said from where she was leaning against the wall. She did not sound all that thrilled about it.

"Do you do this often?" Nene asked.

"One a week, maybe a little less."

"Priss-neechan you're amazing," Nene laughed.

Priss shook her head and walked to the door. "Let's go and get something to eat, maybe a few beers."

Nene nodded and followed after Priss.

As soon as Priss pushed the door open she became aware of the crowd. A lot of people and they began to clap as she exited.

"Bastard," Priss said. Of course Kenta would have put her game up on one of the main screens. She was minimally polite as she pushed through the crowd, nodding to a few friends as she went. She was fairly well known, what with the singing and other things, and she had a fair number of fans.

"Nene-chan!" someone said once they had cleared most of the crowd. Priss looked over her shoulder. Behind her Nene looked as if one of the monsters from the video game had just shown up.

Behind them was a middle-aged woman with red hair. She had more than a passing resemblance to Nene. Beside her was a man, very handsome, Priss thought. She had a few other thoughts that she decided were not quite right when they involved a friend's father.

"Your parents I assume," Priss said to Nene.

"Shoot me, please," Nene said.

"Maybe later."

Nene turned quickly to face her parents. "Kaa-san, Tou-san, konbanwa," she bowed deeply.

"Nene-chan." Her mother's tone had a slightly dangerous edge to it. "I thought you said you were going to be studying in the library."

"I lied," Nene said.

"At least she is truthful about it," her father said, smiling.

"So you think you are ready for this test?" Ali asked.

"Yes," Nene said.

"Well, let's hope so," Ali's tone softened. She knew Nene would do well, and everyone did need a chance to let off some steam every now and then. "A friend from work?" Ali asked, looking at Priss. Priss found herself on the receiving end of a rather intense gaze. She decided that Nene had not been exaggerating when it came to stories about her mother.

"Asagiri Priss," Priss said. "Nice to meet you. I have to go Nene," Priss said, turning around and heading off. Nene noticed her mother giving Priss' back a hard stare.

"Just a second," Nene said to her parents then ran after Priss. "You can't leave, not just like that," Nene said softly as she caught up to the other woman.

"Why not?" Priss asked.

"Because my mother will spend a lot of time asking me about you if you just go. It is the sort of suspicious behaviour that she locks onto. I don't want to be grilled like that."

"Oh, and I do?"

"Plase Priss-neechan," Nene said, putting her hands together like she was praying, and dipping her head.

"Damn," Priss shook her head. "Lose the ears."

"What?"

"Take off those silly things and promise me you'll never wear them again."

"Promise," Nene said as she quickly removed the hair clips and put them in her jacket pocket.

Priss shook her head and walked back towards Nene's parents.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I thought I had a prior engagement."

"Are you sure you don't?" Ali asked.

Priss nodded.

"Priss-san, this is my kaa-san, and my tou-san," Nene said.

"Romanova Ali."

"Makoto," Makoto said, smiling. He had decided that he had best play everything friendly. His wife was going to come on as the heavy.

"Priss-san and I were just going to get something to eat," Nene said, "would you like to come with us?" Please say no, she thought.

"We were thinking of food ourselves," Makoto said. "That was before Priss-san began to put on such a nice show."

"Isn't she amazing?" Nene asked her father.

He nodded.

"Where would you like to eat?" Ali asked.

"I'm sure we can find some place," Priss said. "This is Shinjuku after all."

After a little more small talk they were walking from the game centre. Priss and Makoto were in the lead. It turned out Nene's father had an interest in motorcycles-having even raced them at one point-and the two were comparing notes. Behind them Ali and Nene were walking.

"So why were you there?" Nene asked.

"My network of spies informed me of where you were."

"I can almost believe it."

"Actually, your father and I often go out and visit game centres. I'm sure I told you that we met in one."

"Is this the story were he spent a small fortune trying to get you a penguin from a UFO catcher?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever get that penguin?"

"No. Nor has he managed to get anything from similar games for as long as we have been married." She laughed. "As luck would have it, tonight's choice corresponded with yours. Not too surprising as your father tells me that this is the best game centre in town. So, why haven I met Asagiri-san before?"

"Because the last time I brought a friend home you had her crying in under five minutes."

"Yanagi was a very high strung girl," Ali said dismissively.

"Perhaps, but the fact is you have always dealt with any friends I introduced you to like you were interrogating them."

"You are being silly Nene."

"I am not."

"Where did you meet Asagiri-san?"

"What?"

"Where did you meet her?"

"Around."

Ali gave her daughter a hard stare.

"We're here," Makoto called, giving Nene a chance to slip away from her mother and move up closer to her father and Priss. The restaurant was busy, but there was no line up. They were soon shown to a table and after looking over the menus placed their orders.

"Asagiri-san, how did you meet Nene-chan?" Ali asked.

"Related work," Priss said, picking up the beer she had ordered.

"You are with the police?"

"No," Priss took a drink. "I'm a criminal."

The table was quiet for a moment, then Makoto began to laugh and soon everyone was.

"Actually," Priss said. "Nene nailed me for speeding one day and, somehow, we became friends. I think I still have that ticket, I know I haven't paid it," she smiled. Makoto wasn't a bad sort and if Ali could get someone like him, she couldn't be all that bad either. Still, from what Nene had let slip, she decided that she best be careful around both of them.

The talk moved onto lighter matters, Nene's test the next day and about Shinjuku. They were nearly finished the meal with Ali ended the small talk.

"What do you do Asagiri-san?"

"Musician."

"Priss-san plays a lot of the best underground clubs," Nene said.

"It pays for University?"

"It might," Priss said, taking a drink of her beer. "Assuming I went."

"You aren't in university?" There was something in Ali's tone that Nene recognised. Her mother seemed to think any young woman not living up to her potential was in some way her responsibility. The conversation might be interesting to watch, if she was not sitting at the same table.

"Really, I'm sure that Asagiri-san has made the choices she felt were for the best," Makoto said, seeing where the conversation was going.

"That's right," Nene said, glad her father was trying to mollify the situation. She had noticed he had taken on a lighter hand since she had run away. Probably to keep her from doing so again. He might agree with her mother completely, and usually did, but he knew how to take Nene's side.

"It's all right," Priss said, not about to back down from a challenge. "University would be a bit hard, seeing as I never made it out of Junior High."

Ali frowned slightly. She remembered her earlier conversation with Nene about her and her daughter's friends. She should just leave it alone. She was not going to do that though. "What do your parents think about that?"

Nene winced slightly. Ali saw that and realised she had just stepped over a line.

"I think they would be very upset with me," Priss said, then took another drink. "If they were alive. Actually, they still might be upset with me."

"I'm sorry," Ali said.

"Don't be. You got a point. Musician with no real future," Priss took another drink. She wondered if Okita would come through. "Lousy past, messed up life. I think kaa-san would not be at all impressed," she finished her beer.

"You know," Ali said. "No matter what stupid things they might do," she looked over at Nene. "Mothers never stop loving their daughters."

"Idiot," Priss said. "You should write greeting cards. Oi. One more beer," she shouted at the waiter. No one else said anything. "Sorry," Priss said after a few seconds. "That was out of line."

"No," Ali said. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Priss said and waited for her beer.

After that the conversation just died. A few minutes later Makoto said he needed to get home and Ali told Nene she would be wise to come along as the test was the next day. Makoto said he would pay.

Nene went off to use the washroom and Priss and Ali left the restaurant together.

"Asagiri-san, I want to apologise again. Your life is none of my business."

"Don't worry about it," Priss waved the apology off as she started walking down the street. She stopped and turned, looking back at Ali. "What you said in there, do you think that is true?"

"I know it is true," Ali said.

"Yeah," Priss turned and walked away. "Maybe," she said.

Ali watched her go. A few seconds later Makoto came out of the restaurant. "Interesting young woman," he said. "Knows her bikes."

"Remember when I promised not to go after any more of Nene's friends like they were my children?"

"Yes."

"I lied."

"I knew that."

Cultural Notes:

Second Hand Kiss - The concept of a second hand kiss might be best described as an indirect kiss. In Orange Road, IIRC, there is one point where Kyosuke and Madoka share and apple. Kyosuke takes a bite, then hands it to Madoka. While Madoka could have taken a bite from the opposite side, she chose to take a bite close to where Kyosuke had. Her lips touched where his had been, so it was a second hand kiss.

It's the sort of cute thing that Nene would notice.

Tech Notes:

Nene's cat ears - these small, holographic projectors are designed to, basically, create simple holographs. In this case a set of cat ears. It is likely that they could be designed to project other short ears. Rabbit ears would be difficult due to the length.

They would cost about 5000 yen, and the battery lasts about ten hours. Such fashion items are popular with Japanese, high school girls.