An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers
2034 Year of the Tiger
Neo No Armour Against Fate (Section 1 of 5)
Domino Effect (Part 5 of 6)
by Shawn Hagen(1997;1999)
Based on Characters and Situations created by Suzuki Toshimichi.
Priss hung upside down from one of the rafters, her hair brushing a pipe just below her. She took a pair of wire cutters from her teeth and cut the wires leading into the blast caps. They were stuck into a quarter kilo of military grade plastic explosive ringed by several incendiary charges.
Sylia had not messed around when she had set up the charges on the building.
The outside defences had consisted of non-lethal measures, stun guns, CS(tear) gas, the razor wire on the walls, things that would keep most people away and not require investigations into deaths.
If those did not work to keep them out of the factory itself, where they could find the Sky Carrier, the protocols changed.
While on the ground the aircraft itself was loaded with enough explosive to ensure that very little would be left if anyone without the security codes tried to tamper with it. Assuming they got close enough.
Sylia had placed explosives at the right locations to ensure there would be little left of the factory but a pile of rubble. She guarded her secrets like old Smaug himself protected his treasure, Priss thought, putting the wire cutters back in her mouth and removing the incendiary charges from around the plastique.
She stuffed the sticks in her pants pockets, making sure they would stay, then pulled the block of explosive free. Holding it in one hand she reached up with the other and pulled herself back into the rafters.
Sitting high above the floor with no more worry than someone sitting on a bench, Priss pulled the blasting cap free of the explosive then packed everything away in the disposals bag.
Getting to her feet she pulled the bag up by its strap and put it over her shoulder. She walked along the thin rafter, ducking under the cross beams, making her way to the ladder.
A minute later she was on the floor heading towards the Sky Carrier.
She took a seat on the ramp and began to remove the explosives from the bag, putting them into two boxes at the bottom of the ramp. She put the blasting caps into a pile by themselves to be disposed of later. She would probably put them in the basement and simply blow them up. Noisy, but they were vacating soon anyway.
Nene came in, hefting a box of several cameras and other surveillance devices. Priss got up and ran over to her, taking one side of the box before Nene dropped it.
"Almost done?" Priss asked her.
"A few more sensor suites and a couple of the alarm systems. How are the explosives going?"
"About five kilograms worth plastique, half that much of the incendiaries. Shouldn't take too long."
"That's good." Nene lowered her end of the box, putting it near the end of the ramp.
"Nearly done?" Mackie came out of the Sky Carrier.
"Almost," Nene told him.
"I'll give you a hand," he told her.
"No, I don't need one. I think Priss does," Nene told him, smiling at Priss. While she had thought his interest in her was cute-and flattering-she did not want it to go very far. He was two years younger than she was after all. It would not do to encourage him.
"Yeah," Priss told him. "I'll pull all the stuff in the ceiling, you grab the stuff on the support beams in the basement."
"Right," Mackie said.
"And make sure you check all the detonators, I found two that were still armed."
"Impossible. I checked them all."
"Well then you missed two so far. Be careful. Pull the rest of the surveillance stuff Nene." Priss grabbed the nearly empty disposals bag and headed for the ladder.
"Take care," Nene said as she headed out of the factory.
Mackie shrugged his shoulders, grabbed one of the extra disposals bags and headed for the stairs that would take him into the basement.
An hour later, the explosives were disarmed and packed away, the blasting caps had been blown, the other equipment was loaded into boxes and strapped into the cargo bay of the Sky Carrier.
Mackie wiped his hands off with his handkerchief and tied it around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Nene had the co-pilot's station, which gave her control of the ECM and ECCM suites. Priss was lying on one of the personnel couches behind the pilot's and co-pilot's seats.
Mackie pushed the throttles forward, at the same time opening the vents that fed the thrust the engines generated into the wing struts where it turned the fans. In front of them a large loading door was pulled back by powerful motors. The craft began to move forward, rolling over the cracked concrete.
"Don't wake me up until we get there and if you decide to thunder in Mackie-kun, don't wake me up at all." Priss put one of her arms across her eyes.
"Give me control," Nene told Mackie softly as she grabbed the control sticks.
"Pardon?"
"Just do it."
Mackie just shrugged his shoulders and transferred control to the co-pilot's station.
Nene increased the power to the motors and adjusted the angle of the blades of the fans. The Sky Carrier began to climb.
"Oh Priss," Nene called sweetly.
"What!" Priss yelled, not bothering to take her arm from across her eyes.
"This is for the ride over here," she said in the same sweet voice, which was what really gave Priss her warning, not that it helped much.
The Sky Carrier rolled slightly to port, Priss rolled off the couch, hitting the floor.
"That's not funny Nene." Priss grabbed one of the handholds to keep from sliding back as Nene went into a climb. Nene couldn't make any of the manoeuvres too sudden or steep because off all the cargo in the back.
"Really?" Nene had to go into a dive before she got too high.
"Will you give control back to Mackie? At least I can threaten him and he'll listen."
"Say please."
"Nene!"
"You're no fun." Nene transferred the flight controls back to Mackie. The flight got very steady. She turned her attention to the ECM.
"I'm sure Neesan would disapprove of this," Mackie said quietly to himself.
They flew on, Mackie keeping the aircraft above the buildings, but below radar coverage, and flying relatively slow. Nene kept the Sky Carrier nearly invisible to anything but the naked eye-though the flat black and grey patterns painted on the craft helped with that.
"There it is," Mackie said ten minutes later, pointing out the canopy at a large structure in front of them.
"How the hell did Sylia manage to get her hands on a nuclear reactor?" Priss had come up just behind Mackie's seat.
"It's just the shell." He brought the Sky Carrier closer to the one cooling tower. "They never actually finished building the reactor. After the quake hit the city pulled a number of permits and licenses, the reactor never got on line. No radioactive materials, but due to some bureaucratic mess up it is still classified as a potential threat with respect to contamination."
"So no one wants it?" Nene asked.
"According to Neesan the land out here is not scheduled for any redevelopment for at least eight years so it has no real value that way. There also the fact that tearing it down would require a number of special precautions due to its threat classification."
"So it's too much of an expense to be valuable?" Nene looked at the structure.
"More or less. Going down." Mackie had positioned the Sky Carrier over the opening into the tower. He turned on the laser range finders and then changed the angles on the fan blades. The craft began to drop into its new home.
"Watch the port wing tip," Nene warned, seeing it getting close to the wall.
"I see it," Mackie said, looking down at the information the range finders were providing. He moved the craft less than a meter starboard.
"Wheels going down." Nene deployed the landing gear. "Wheels down and locked."
"Powering down fans." Mackie pulled the throttles back. The aircraft shook slightly as the wheels touched the concrete at the bottom of the tower. "We are down."
"Well that was fun." Priss straightened from where she had been leaning over Mackie's seat, turned and walked out of the cockpit.
Mackie tapped another set of commands into the keyboard. Above them a tarpaulin, the same colour as the concrete the Sky Carrier rested on, was slid over it. It was effectively hidden from any overhead searches as well as protected from the elements.
Nene had gotten out of her seat and went back into the cargo bay with Priss. Priss was releasing one of the cargo straps that had held the van in place. Nene began working on one herself.
Once they had the van free they opened the side panel, revealing their hardsuits.
"Let's get changed before Mackie gets back here," Priss told Nene, tossing the redhead her inner suit as she grabbed her own.
By the time Mackie got back there both had changed and were kneeling on the floor, going over Sylia's notes.
"I think we can use this tunnel," Nene said, tracing out a path on the map.
Priss nodded, but she did not look pleased.
"What is it?" Nene asked her.
"I'd be very surprised if we find those tunnels whole. Between the quake and the fact that Genom has torn down almost all of the buildings in the area, we might find all of them blocked. And if we find any that might be useful, they'll have probably been secured."
"What do you think we should do?" Mackie asked, kneeling beside Nene. "Neesan thought that tunnels might be the best way to get in."
"If there are any we can use, they might be, but Sylia-san also asked us to consider other options."
"Maybe we could just try to move over the open ground, stay under cover, get close that way," Nene suggested.
"It could work," Priss said. "What I'd like is a distraction."
"Maybe we could call in a boomer report to the ADP?" Mackie said.
"Maybe." Priss nodded as she looked down at the map.
"I don't think we should do that," Nene said. "The ADP are busy enough."
Priss gave Nene a hard stare.
"Well, they are."
"No matter, I don't think we want to do that. It will make it obvious that something is up."
"Maybe we could get some other group to cause a distraction, like a cycle gang," Mackie suggested to Priss.
"What, do you think I can just pick up my phone and arrange for a bunch of bikers to show up somewhere?"
"Yes," Nene said for Mackie.
"Unfortunately I've stopped hanging around with useful people and now hang with idiot girls who wear stupid cat ears."
"That's mean," Nene said.
Priss nodded, not looking at Nene. Her eyes were focused on the map. "Give me one of the satellite pictures," she said.
Nene handed one of the photos to Priss. "Here."
Priss took it and lay it beside the map. "Look at these," she said, putting her finger on the left side of the map.
"The construction equipment?" Mackie asked.
"The construction equipment," Priss nodded.
"What about it?" Nene asked.
"Hear about what happened in Shinagawa last week, and in Shin-Kiba the week before?"
"No," Nene said.
"I did," Mackie said after a moment. "Someone took some Genom construction equipment for a joy ride."
Priss nodded, smiling slightly. "Some of the media have suggested that it might be some sort of anti-Genom group making a statement."
"You want to do the same?" Mackie asked her.
"It would be a very good distraction," Nene admitted.
"Can we hook one up to run remotely?" Priss asked.
"Maybe," Nene said.
"I think so," Mackie told her. "The control systems should allow it."
"So how do we do this?" Nene asked.
"Here's what I think we'll do," Priss leaned forward over the map as she began to outline her plan.
January 17th, Tuesday, 12:03am
No one could fault Terrence's security measures. They were quite good, but there were some limits. There were areas of dead ground all around the building; places where the building mounted cameras were blind. The only way his on site security could see anything in those areas would be to actually walk out to them.
Sometimes they did just that, but not often. It would look very odd. He kept the security as subtle as possible, feeling that overt security might attract attention.
It was not his fault that Nene and Mackie could enter the Genom vehicle compound unseen. Perhaps he had expected Genom's own security measures to keep that area clean, but if so, it was not the case that night.
"Cut this," Nene told Mackie, pointing.
Mackie nodded and cut the wire. Before Nene could tell him he rewired the control system, tying the computer system into the communication system.
"Good," Nene said. She pulled her hardsuit's link cable from the crane's computer. "That should do it."
"Do you think this will work?" Mackie asked as he lifted the cover back into place.
"I'm not sure," Nene said. She reached out to hold the cover up so Mackie could screw it back into place. "It does seem excessive, but that is Priss' speciality after all."
"I'm not sure this is what nee-san was thinking of."
"Well, she did tell us to improvise if necessary."
Mackie nodded. "I'm actually looking forward to this," he told her, smiling slightly.
"There is something about mindless destruction that can be fun." She slid back out of the cab of the large crane and looked around. "It's clear," she called softly to Mackie.
Mackie closed the door of the cab, then dropped to the ground beside Nene.
"Let's go," Nene said, moving towards the small gate that they had entered the compound through. Once they had passed through the fence and had moved down into cover, Nene and Mackie separated.
Nene began circling around towards where Priss was waiting, Mackie moved towards the van that they had arrived in.
One of Terrence's security people was walking along the cracked and pitted sidewalk in front of the building, making his patrol. He maintained a façade of indifference, creating an illusion that he was just out for a walk.
When the loud rumble of an engine staring rolled out through the cool night air he increased his pace, moving out to the front of the building.
Almost a kilometre away, behind a tall, chain-link fence, one of the construction vehicles had just started up. The man watched for a moment. Although it was not impossible that night work could be carried out, the work had always been done in the day as long as he had been there.
He reached into his jacket pocket and keyed his radio. "This is station one-one calling in. We have action in the Genom vehicle compound," he transmitted.
"Understood one-one," a voice came back to him over his earpiece. "You'll be getting some support, hold position and keep on your toes."
"Understood," he said softly, watching as the lights on one of the big cranes came on. A moment later the lights began to move as the crane lurched forward. He watched for several seconds as the huge machine moved very slowly, inching towards the fence. Then, with a burst of speed, it crashed through the fence and out of the compound. "Shit," he said softly as he keyed the radio again. "We have a new problem."
Not that far away, Mackie sat in a black van, the passenger seat pushed far back, a laptop on his knees. The screen was split into four windows, three of them linked to the safety cameras on the crane, and the remaining one tied into the crane's diagnostics.
Once he sent the crane crashing through the fence he brought it to a stop, noting how the crane jerked around. He'd have to be careful to avoid too sudden movements or he might flip the vehicle over.
He raised the huge arm, then brought it and the drill tip down into the ground, tearing a gouge into the broken concrete.
He smiled slightly. It was kind of fun.
It was a big crane, Terrence noted. One of Genom's largest Kobota construction vehicles. It was a tracked vehicle, with a heavy chassis, and a huge crane arm. He felt the ground shake slightly as that arm came down, tearing a swath of destruction through the ground.
"Have someone call the police," Terrence said.
"Right away sir," one of his people said.
He considered ordering some heavy weapons brought out, but he did not want to risk discovery. He had heard about similar things happening with other Genom construction sites in the city. It was likely that it was just happening again. Someone was making some sort of anti-Genom statement.
Once the police arrived it would be all over. He hoped.
"I think he's enjoying himself," Priss said.
"Maybe he's just trying to do a good job," Nene replied.
"I suppose."
"They've called the police."
"Good, that means we won't have to do it."
"I hope this will work," Nene said.
"Trust me," Priss told her.
Mackie spun the crane about in place, the tracks digging up the ground as the heavy vehicle whirled about. He stopped before he dug the crane in too deep. It would not do to get it stuck. He gave the engine some gas and the crane lurched forward, rumbling towards the building.
He stopped the crane and lifted the huge crane arm then slammed it down again, watching as the cracked and broken patch of concrete shattered.
That was when the com system picked up a transmission from the police. Two patrol cars were getting close. Time to move to the next phase.
The crane arm raised into the air, the entire vehicle shaking as the huge piece of metal moved about. The vehicle began moving forward, heading on a path that would make it look as if it was going to avoid the building. Fortunately Mackie knew one of the police cars would be coming from the area the crane was pointed at.
Sharon stared at the small, robotic, bug under the dissecting microscope. She focused in on the tiny barbs on one of its six legs. They looked terrible, but the damage they did while traveling through the body was minimal, if they were introduced to the right place. As small at they were, they still could not fit through capillaries or the smaller of the blood vessels. The small robots were also rather fragile. They would not survive a trip through the heart.
She used one of her probes to pry the carapace off, opening the interior up to her view. Such a tiny machine, Sharon thought, sliding the probe into the interior. She read the small readout on the probe as the battery discharged its energy. She shook her head as she read the numbers. Not even half the power it would need to complete its task.
That was one of her larger problems. The tiny batteries she used were not very constant. She never knew how much power each one would hold.
Each of the bugs had a little less than a fifty-percent chance of reaching the areas in the brain they had to be. In order for the process to be successful there needed to be two hundred of tiny machines in place. That meant that over four hundred had to be injected if things were going to work.
She was not pleased with that.
The people at Aphros Industries, and others, did not seem to care. They might not, but Sharon did. She wanted to make them one hundred percent effective. She wanted to make them smaller and tougher so they could be injected anywhere or even introduced orally. The thought of being able to lace a city's water supply with the devices made Sharon smile slightly. It was not so much as to the thought of all the death that it would cause, but at the effectiveness and subtlety of it.
She sighed as pushed herself back from the microscope.
It would take years before she had everything working as she wanted it to. Still, she had the initial stages complete. She would have the years to make it as she wished.
As she was reaching for the vial that held her samples the small beeper in her pocket went off. She removed the beeper and took a look at the message scrolling across the message window. Terrence had called a security alert for some reason. Well, she was sure that he'd take care of it.
She went back to work, examining another of the little bugs. She needed to find some way to give them more power. Perhaps she could use a second battery?
She quickly forgot about the security alert as she worked.
When, later, the building shook, accompanied by a crashing sound, she found herself wondering just what the security alert had been about.
Terrence watched the crane pass his building; not coming closer than twenty meters as it went by. He could hear the sound of sirens approaching. Terrence guessed that whoever was driving that thing had decided to bail. He guessed that he or she would get to where there was cover and then ditch the vehicle.
That was fine with Terrence. The sooner everything was over, the better. No doubt the police would want to ask him questions, but they would not be too interested in the building or the people there.
It was how he wanted things to turn out. It was how things looked to be turning out. And then it all changed.
One of the police cars came over a raise, directly in the path of the crane. The driver of the crane probably panicked for the vehicle lurched to a halt, then began moving backwards at speed. Terrence suddenly realised that it was going to come very close, perhaps even crash into the building. Just wonderful, he thought, wondering what he should do?
Now that the police were on scene his options were very limited.
He watched as the crane came on, still in reverse, looking as if it would hit the building. Another police car had appeared, but both of them were limited in their top speed by the damaged roads.
"Get everyone out of the building," Terrence called out. He was not sure, but the large vehicle crashing into the building could not be good. The crane seemed to pick up speed and he knew there would not be time to evacuate the building.
Then, just before the large construction vehicle could slam into the building, it turned sharply, as sharp as such a large vehicle could turn, avoiding the collision. An impressive manoeuvre, but not quite enough. The huge crane arm cut out like a blade, crashing through the windows and exterior walls of the third and forth floors. At that moment all the lights on the crane came on, turning night to day and blinding anyone looking at it.
Terrence squinted his eyes, trying to see. Whoever was driving that thing was pretty smart. The huge vehicle began to back away again, putting broken rubble between it and the two approaching police cars. With those lights shining, it was unlikely that anyone could see the vehicle well. The driver may have already bailed out and was making their escape on foot.
He looked away from the lights, blinking his eyes, staring up at the large hole now in the side of the building.
"Handle things down here," he called to one of his men. Then he dashed towards the entrance of the building. While it was quite possible that the entire thing had been nothing more than an anti-Genom protest of some kind, it might be something else. He was paid to be paranoid.
As soon as the crane had begun backing up, Priss and Nene had broken cover, crossing the space between them and the building at a run. They used whatever cover they could, but Priss hoped everyone was paying too much attention to the big crane to notice them.
They came up behind it. When Mackie turned on all the lights they were not facing them. They leapt up on the crane, using only the strength of the hardsuit's legs, not chancing that the thruster burn might be noticed. Onto the crane, then onto the arm, then a leap through a smashed window put them on the forth floor.
"This way," Nene said, taking the lead. She had a map of the floor with Dr. Knight's office marked on it.
In a few seconds they stood in front of a door. The sensor booms on Nene's suit extended as she performed a scan on the door, checking it for alarms.
"Hurry up," Priss said.
"I am," Nene replied testily as she turned her attention to the keypad by the door. One of her link cables slid from its housing on her powerarm. She removed the outer casing from the keypad and then slid the cable into a jack within the unit. "This won't take long."
Terrence slid to a stop in front of the elevator doors. He dug through his jacket pockets until he found his key. He pushed the key into the locking mechanism between them, turned it, and then pressed the call button.
A moment later the doors slid open. He pulled his key free, stepped into the elevator, then put his key into the lock on the control panel. There was a sudden beeping and words began to scroll across the readout on the control panel.
He cursed his Japanese ability, most specifically his shortcomings when it came to reading, and watched the repeating message twice before he realised what it probably meant. The shaking caused by the crane, while minor, had been enough to activate the earthquake safety feature in the elevator. They had stopped at the nearest floor and were locked down awaiting reset.
"God damn it," he snarled, pulling his key free and running for the stairs.
Sharon shut down everything in her lab, putting security locks on the computer there, and on the other computers it was linked to. Best to be safe.
She left the lab, sealing it behind her, then walked towards the elevators. She soon discovered what Terrence had. Wanting to check her office, she turned to the stairs.
"Got it," Nene said softly, pushing the door open. She replaced the cover over the keypad and then entered the office. Priss remained in the doorway, looking down the hall, and into the office, standing guard.
Nene walked to the computer sitting on the desk, a connection cable sliding from the powerarm. She slid it into an access port on the back of the computer and went to work. Almost immediately she ran into a security lock. "This may take a bit," Nene said.
"It better not," Priss told her.
"Hai, hai," Nene said, working her way through the security lock. She wanted to take the time to make sure there were no surprises, but that was not an option. In a few seconds she had bypassed the security lock-a protocol almost two months old, positively archaic-and began to download all the data.
Priss' sensors were not anywhere near the quality and ability of those on Nene's suit, but they were still good. She detected the sound of someone moving up the stairs a few seconds later. "We have company coming," she told Nene.
"I almost got it," she said. "Just a few seconds more." A few seconds after that, and Nene said, "got it" as she disengaged her link cable.
"Move," Priss said. She had heard the sound of a door opening nearby.
Nene moved quickly out of the office and was running towards the broken windows. Priss pushed the door closed quietly, then was after Nene.
They both leapt from the building, hoping no one was looking in their direction at the moment. Once they hit the ground they took off at speed, using dead ground and cover as best they could.
Terrence had chosen to check out Sharon's office first. When he got there the door was securely locked, nothing out of place.
He heard a door open and turned to look towards the sound. A moment later Sharon walked into view.
"What is happening?" she asked him.
"We've had some problems. There is potential for a security breach. Can you open your office door?"
Sharon looked at him for a moment, then reached out and tapped in the combination for the door. When the locking bolt slid free Terrence reached out and pushed the door open. The office looked empty. He reached out and turned the light on. After a moment he turned to Sharon and asked, "Anything look out of place?"
Sharon stepped into her office and looked about. Nothing looked out of place. "I'll check my computer," she told him.
"What about your lab?"
"I just left it, and when I left I sealed it down."
"Okay, check your computer, see if there is anything."
Sharon nodded as she walked towards her desk. Terrence stepped back out of the office and turned his attention to the keypad. He removed the cover, letting the faceplate dangle by its wires, and examined the interior.
Was that a fresh scratch on the side? Did it look as if the interior wiring had been moved about? He could not be completely certain. He would have to plug a computer into and run a diagnostic. Even if it had been tampered with, a person with enough skill could hide that.
"Did you find anything?" he called to Sharon.
"I'm still looking," she told him.
"Okay, I'm going up to check your lab. Even if there was no security breach, I think it is time we move. We'll probably have building inspectors here soon because of the damage."
"I'm not finished yet," she told him.
"You'll be able to finish elsewhere," he said as he put the cover back on the lock. "Deal with it." He turned and walked off.
"Insufferable bastard," Sharon muttered softly as she called up her security logs. Things looked good at first, but then she got down into her sixth level of security, a level well hidden, in the hardware itself. That's when she found it.
The entire contents of the computer hard disks had been copied. She sat down heavily in her chair. The more damning information was encrypted; it would take at least a few days, with a very powerful computer, to break the codes. Still, there was information that had not been encrypted, and someone smart, or who knew what they were looking for, might be able to put the basics together from that.
"Damn it," she hissed softly. Then she got to her feet and began to enter commands. Terrence was right. It was time to leave, just not in the way he wanted.
The black van passed unnoticed through the city, just another vehicle out late. In the back Nene and Priss relaxed. They had changed into their regular clothes; the hardsuits had been secured.
"I think that was a little louder than neesan would have liked," Mackie said.
"It worked didn't it?" Priss said good-naturedly. "Plus, I think you enjoyed it quite a bit."
"I was only doing what you told me to," Mackie said, smiling at her in the rear view mirror.
Priss nodded, then turned to look at Nene. "You get everything?"
Nene looked up from her laptop. "As if there was any doubt. A lot of this is encrypted, but not all of it."
"As long as we got it," Priss said, leaning back, her hands behind her head.
A few minutes later Mackie pulled up to the curb outside of the building where Priss had earlier parked her motorcycle. Priss got out of the van. "Later," she said.
"Bye," Nene said from where she now sat in the passenger's seat.
The van pulled away. Priss waved once, then watched for a moment as the taillights began to recede into the darkness. They would go back to Ladys 633 and drop everything off. Priss was certain she'd hear from Sylia sometime during the next day. She turned and walked into the parking garage, heading to where her bike was parked.
Soon she was on her bike, then engine rumbling loudly in the quiet of the empty garage. She plugged her CD player's out-line into her helmet then reached into her pocket, pulling out a fistful of coin sized, disposable CDs. She shuffled through them then removed one and slotted it into the player. The rest she returned to her pocket. As she put her bike in gear the Talking Heads, 'Life During Wartime' began to fill her ears.
Domino flipped the file open. Inside was a computer disc and a number of laser printed, photograph quality, pages of images taken from the disk.
The first was a recent one of Ian Gregor, a thin, tall man, with short black hair, a hard face and dark brown eyes. She flipped it over to the next one. Ian with his family. A wife, one teenage daughter, one prepubescent daughter.
She remembered-though remembering was not really the best way to describe it-Mason had used similar pictures but with a cross hair marked on the film, usually centred on the head of one family member. Such a simple and elegant threat, it had worked so well, until that woman who just did not care.
Threats to mate and children had not worked and it had come close to destroying Mason. He had never used that gambit again.
She flipped through several more pages of the loving father and husband with his family. After that was the important stuff.
Gregor with a woman, girl really, far too young to be his wife, too young to be considered legal in most countries. She flipped through several more pictures, finding one of the better ones. The fact that the girl bore more than a passing resemblance to his daughter was not going to help matters much.
Domino shook her head. Didn't people realise once one decided they wanted power they no longer had a private life? To part of her that seemed very cold and cruel, but that part was not at the fore.
She stared down at one of the pictures; another thought entered her mind. She pushed that thought and the ones it was raising aside. She would have time to explore her own sexuality at a later time. Business first.
"Ensure Mr. Gregor receives these as soon as possible with a note that he might wish to announce he is temporarily suspending the contract with Persies until he can fully investigate some serious allegations that have been made. He might also want to suggest that he is considering going to Daemon Inc."
"I can get it on a semiballistic and he'll have it within five hours."
"Good."
"It won't last long though," D felt the need to point out.
"I'm aware of that but it will take at least a week for the board of directors to vote him out and put someone new in his place. That should provide us with plenty of time." With Persies chief supplier refusing to deal with the company the stock was sure to drop. She was certain Genom could get at least the twenty- percent of the shares they needed to stage a hostile take over of Persies. And there would be repercussions against Mr. Gregor's company, 'Donolan' which would leave the company vulnerable to similar tactics.
The best part was that it could never be traced back to Genom. Though of course people would suspect.
Domino picked up a disk that had been delivered only ten minutes before. She slid it into the disk drive of her computer and put the information up on the screen.
"The Knight Sabers did good work," she said. "A little noisy, but very clean." Domino looked over the information that began to flash across the screen. "Much of this in encrypted."
"We could have it run through the central computer," D said.
"Yes, that would work. Still, there is information here that is of immediate use." Domino began to read through the data, D stood just behind her, reading it as well.
"Just what is Knight-Hakase up to?" Domino asked softly.
"She is designing a microscopic robot," D said.
"Yes," Domino said, nodding, "but to what purpose? What is she going to do with them? They will probably be introduced into the human body, but what will they do once they are inside?"
"A new weapon of some sort," D suggested. "The next step in the evolution of such weapons. Once it enters the body it starts to destroy it. You could even use such a design on equipment and boomers."
"It would have to be very advanced, and I don't see anything to suggest that she has reached that stage. Then again, it may be in the encrypted data." Domino removed the disk from her computer. "Run it through the central computer," she told D, holding the disk towards the boomer. "Put some watchers on the building. The Knight Sabers activities this evening were rather loud."
"I'll get right on it."
"Get to work on that Gregor matter. I'll expect a full report at the start of the workday."
"Yes, Domino-sama," D said, bowing before she left.
Domino got to her feet once she heard the door open and close. She kicked off her high heels then took off her jacket revealing the shoulder holster she was wearing. She took that off next but kept the 9mm as she walked into her bedroom in her stockinged feet.
She stood with her back to the bed then dropped down to lie on it. Placing the pistol within easy reach she laced her fingers and put them behind her head.
She had managed a lot in the space of less that 48 hours since her talk with Quincy. She had no doubt that she would succeed. All she needed was some time and more information.
Taking her hands from behind her head she unbuttoned her blouse down to her skirt's waistband.
Quincy was truly interested in Knight-hakase's work. More so than she would have thought. She wondered what Knight was up to and she wondered how Aphros might use it. And how much of a threat it might be when finished? The cold part of her fell away, no longer needed. The fear that had been there since the beginning came back, but so did something else. She remembered the pictures of Gregor with the girl.
She ran her fingers over her lace-covered breasts then down her stomach, past her navel. Her heart was beating faster, her housekeeping computer telling her that all her organic components were reacting to a state of arousal. She felt on the brink of something.
No, Domino told herself, pulling her hands back and then putting both back under her head. You really don't need to confuse issues, especially at this point. Business first, then pleasure. The cold part was back in place, for the most part.
She sat up, smiling slightly, feeling like a child promised a treat if she were good.
Standing she began to undress, wanting a shower before she went to sleep. She really did not need sleep in any conventional ways but she did so enjoy dreaming.
Tapping her pen against the side of the computer, Sylia read through the information Nene had stolen the night before. She had sent a copy to Fargo a few hours before. He had sent it to the client no doubt.
It had taken her a while to get a feel for the data that Nene had stolen. She did not know that she was performing the some sort of analysis that Domino had performed. While she did not have the raw processing power Domino's AI chip gave her, Sylia knew her father's research, and Knight-hakase's project was based on her father's work.
With that in mind, she went to work on breaking the code. Sylia went at it based on what she thought she was looking for. With that information it was easier than she might have otherwise found it.
She programmed her computer to look for patterns, then devise a key that would cause those patterns to fall into place, as she wanted.
Skill, computing power and a little luck mixed together to give Sylia what she wanted.
Feeling pleased with her work, Sylia began to read through the data. That content feeling began to fade as something else rose up in the pit of her stomach.
She could not be doing that, Sylia thought angrily. She cannot use his research like that. Sylia clenched her hands into fists, she was shaking ever so slightly with the effort to keep herself under control. She wanted to scream, to slam her fist again the screen of her computer. She managed to check that anger before she could follow through on the impulse, though it was not easy.
How dare Knight-hakase think to do such a thing! Wasn't it bad enough her father's boomer technology was being misused? Did that woman have to take another aspect of his work and twist it in such a horrible way?
Sylia opened her hands, forcing herself to relax. She took several deep breaths. She would have to do something. Her first instinct was to put on her suit and go to have a small talk with Dr. knight; she decided that such a course of action would not be for the best.
She reached for her phone. She would call Fargo and have him put some watchers on the building. She wanted to be sure of what was happening there and now she was even more curious as to who might have hired her. They had the information as well, though it was possible that they would not be able to break the encryption of the files.
She hit the speed dial number and then leaned back, waiting for Fargo to answer. She would get some sleep and then make her decision on how to handle things.
"Where's Dr. Knight?" Terrence asked one of his people.
"I think she's down in the basement," the woman, Beth Fros, said.
"What's she doing?"
"I don't know," Beth told him. "She was moving things down from her lab and office the last time I looked."
Terrence shook his head. "Okay, keep sharp. I don't think we'll see any more visitors until this morning. If anything happens, give me a call."
"Yes sir."
He turned and walked towards the elevators-reset since the earlier shake up. He pushed his key into place, turned it, and then pressed the call button. When the doors opened he removed his key, then stepped into the elevator. He used the key to unlock the car, then pressed the button for the basement.
The doors closed and the car dropped. A few seconds later the doors opened on a scene of activity. The once still boomers were now active, moving about, carrying various boxes and crates. They were loading the gear into one of two trucks, all under the watchful eye of Sharon.
He looked about, not at all sure what was going on. "What are you doing?" he demanded, walking toward Sharon.
"I'm packing up my equipment," Sharon told him simply. "Did you not say we would have to move."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked at him, an innocent look on her face. "Because I think that our time of co-operation is over."
"Doctor, I think you are missing something here," he said as he reached into his jacket. Before he could draw out his pistol something grasped him around his neck and lifted him into the air.
Sharon stood there, watching as one of her boomers, a construction boomer, lifted Terrence into the air. He managed to pull his pistol free but before he could do anything with the weapon another of the boomers, a C-Class, slapped it from his hand.
The construction boomer gave Terrence a hard shake, then hurled him across the room. He slammed into the wall with the sound of bones breaking. As he fell to the floor he left blood on the wall he had hit.
"Continue on," Sharon said to the two boomers that had come to her aid. As the boomers went to finish their work, Sharon walked over to Terrence's still form. She looked at him; he was lying face down, a small puddle of blood growing beneath him. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment.
She turned and walked towards the truck.
Beth was taken by surprise when the doors to the garage under the building rolled up. Two trucks drove up the ramp, the larger one just barely making it under the cement beam at the top of the ramp. They did not stop, they just drove off along the broken roads.
She grabbed her radio and tried to call Terrence to see what he wanted her to do. He did not answer the call. She was considering her options when the explosions rocked the building.
Sharon waited until the two trucks were a safe distance from the buildings, then she removed a radio detonator from her jacket pocket. She did not know very much about explosives, but she had paid attention when Terrence had set up some booby-traps in the unused sections of the building.
With that knowledge she had planted charges in her office, and her labs. She wanted to leave nothing there that anyone might use to replicate her work, or to discover what she had done. Whoever had copied the information from her computer only had clues, not any of the final results. She wanted to keep it that way.
She pressed the button on the detonator. Behind her the explosives went off, destroying her office and labs. She watched the explosions through her rear-view mirror. They were larger than she had thought, blowing out most of the windows on the floors they occurred on. The building stayed up though.
She returned the detonator to her pocket and leaned back in the seat. Beside her a boomer drove the truck away.
Sylia bolted up in her bed, forcing a cry down, not willing to disturb Mackie with her problems. Not wanting to have to explain to him what they were. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, but the dream was still fresh.
Dropping her head into her hands she cried silently for a time. Her body was racked with sobs near the end, made all that more painful by her fighting to keep them silent.
Finally it was over, not because she felt better or because the pain had passed but simply because there were no more tears, no more time for her to engage in bouts of self pity.
Reaching over to the chair beside her bed, Sylia pulled the robe free and put it on as she got to her feet. It was a little after four but she knew sleep was like a door barred to her.
Moving quietly she went to her bathroom and then to the sink where she started the cold water running.
She cupped her hands and brought the icy liquid up to splash against her face, washing away the tears, the puffiness and the redness from her eyes. She took a glass from the side of the sink and filled it, then drank the water to ease her throat.
Turning off the tap she stepped back to look at herself in the mirror. A few traces remained of the crying she had indulged in, but not many, and they would be gone soon enough.
Leaving the washroom she went back into her room and looked around, trying to find something to focus her attention on but nothing could hold it for more than a moment. Giving up she exited her room, heading for the kitchen.
Once there Sylia moved around the kitchen, gathering the things she needed for a cup of tea. While she would have preferred the feel of a bow in her hands, the fletchings of an arrow caressing her cheek, she made do with feel of fine porcelain under her fingertips, the coarseness of the tea leaves, the heat of the boiling water, to calm herself, almost meditating.
By the time she sat at the window in the dining room, looking out over the darkened city she had found her centre again, a shield of calmness around her.
She sipped at the slightly bitter tea, inhaled the fragrance, enjoyed the warmth of the cup full of the hot water, and let herself remember.
It had seemed so innocent, the data cartridge with her name on it, delivered from her father's lawyers, by courier, a week after he had died.
It had been unique and only one computer in the house would accept it. The one with the dermal headset, that allowed it to read a bit of what went on in the brain, which made it easier to use. That was all Sylia had really known about the set up back then. She had not known of some modifications her father had made to it.
The data dump had been designed specifically for Sylia by her father who had CAT, PET, and NMR scans of her brain, who had known exactly what would happen.
There had been pain, quite a bit of it actually. A minute when everything her father had known was forced into her brain, a lifetime of work carved in her neurons with blades of electricity. She knew now that the brain tissue was incapable of feeling pain, that what she felt must have been partly psychosomatic in origin. That didn't change the fact that it had hurt.
Even afterwards there had been several weeks in which she had suffered the effects of almost crippling migraines. Again she suspected that they might be partly psychosomatic but she had never bothered seeing a doctor about them. She had known what her father had done to her and a younger Sylia had hidden it, not willing to do anything that might sully the memory of him.
An older Sylia kept the secret out of habit and for her own safety, but mostly out of habit.
She often wondered why he had done it, why he had raped her with the data, forced onto her without her consent. He could have arranged for it to come later, with information to explain just what would happen, when she could have made the decision for herself instead of having it taken completely out of her hands.
There were reasons of course, and she knew them. That the data might fall into the wrong hands in that time, that the changes in her brain due to growth would make the transferral impossible. Both valid reasons but she always felt her father doubted her, thought she would refuse so he had made the decision for her.
As always when Sylia let herself take that train of thought she came to Mackie, her father's other child, the one he had left alone. Again, she knew there were reasons, good reason, that the younger the subject the greater possibility of permanent damage being done. It made sense.
But she often wondered if it was because he was a son and in some way more valuable to their father. As always she felt a burst of anger and jealousy towards her brother.
Sylia quickly turned away from those thoughts, pushed them from her with an almost physical exertion. Even if it was true she had no reason to take her anger out on Mackie. She needed him too much-he was the only family left to her, she would not and could not alienate him because of something her father might or might not have done.
And when everything was considered, she always wondered if her father had know what he was doing to her, if he had truly been aware of what he had done?
If it had only been the data dump, if it had only been the incredible pain of it and the weeks of migraines that had followed it, if that had only been it she might have let her anger pass.
There had been more though, much, much more.
Memories, memories of her father's, deeply buried, sometimes surfacing like bubbles onto a still pond, their disturbance causing ripples. Memories brought up when she thought about her father, or his work, as she had done earlier. Doctor Knight was making her think about her father, causing the deeper memories to surface.
They were small things really, like the sight of Mason, with the gun, one of her father's last sights. She often wondered if it was a true vision or maybe some nightmare. She had no idea how her father's last memories could be recorded. She had never found an answer in his notes either.
There were memories though that cut her like a knife every time they would surface: those of her mother.
Sylia had of course known her mother; she had been ten when she had died. But Sylia had never known her as anything other than her mother. She envied Nene who was becoming friends with her parents, and Linna who had also known her parents as friends.
In a way those memories should not have been so bad but they were cruel and she hated them. In them she saw her mother as her father had seen her, the woman he loved. It hurt Sylia when those memories, almost always hard on the heels of a nightmare, would disturb her sleep.
She put aside her empty cup and stared out the window. The sky was beginning to lighten, dawn slowly coming. She watched as the sun finally pushed above the buildings of the cityscape, dazzling her with its brightness. For a moment the city was incredibly beautiful to her in the way it only was at dawn or sunset. At the other times she saw everything too clearly.
And Sylia finally let herself wonder what her father would do if he were suddenly alive again.
Would he tell her that he was proud of her or would he just hold her and cry with her for all that had been done? It was a question that preyed upon Sylia's thoughts often and one that she knew she would never know the answer to. It was only with that answer could she decide whether she hated or loved her father or perhaps all emotions had been burnt out of her and all she would feel was indifference.
But as she never could get the answer she would never feel a sense of closure in that part of her life. For the rest of her life.
She got to her feet and looked out the window, now seeing the city for what it was and wishing she could recapture the wonder she felt at only dawn or sunset.
The phone rang, surprising Sylia a little. She reached for the handset and lifted it. "Moshi, moshi, Stingray desu," she said.
"There's been a change in things," a familiar voice said.
"This line is secure."
"You're target has taken a run," Fargo told her.
"Following?"
"We are."
"Send me a report as soon as possible."
"I understand," Fargo said, then the line went dead.
Sylia held the handset for a moment, then she hung it up. It looked as if things had moved to the next level. She was going to have to deal with it.
January 17th, 07:35am
Nene mumbled in her sleep, her arms wrapped around her pillow, she was curled up in the foetal position.
Something intruded on a rather enjoyable dream, shattering it, waking her. Eyes barely opened, rimmed with sleep. She tried to focus on what had woken her. It took her a moment to pinpoint the alarm clock. She had forgotten to turn it off the night before. Reaching out she slapped it off. "Baka(stupid)," she mumbled, turning her face into her pillow, trying to go back to sleep.
After trying for several minutes to pass out Nene pushed herself from the pillow, realising that the attempt was in vain. She slid over, pushing one leg out from under the covers. "Samui(cold)," she said, almost pulling her leg back under the warm covers. Taking a deep breath, she tossed the covers off and got out of bed.
Running her hands through her hair, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes and walked towards the door. She had come in early in the morning and had hoped to sleep until noon having already arranged for the day off. It looked like it was not going to be.
Pushing her door open, Nene walked out into the hall and went straight for the bathroom. She could hear sounds from downstairs. Her father was probably making breakfast-it was his turn. She pushed open the bathroom door, walked in then shut and locked it.
After relieving herself she brushed her teeth then ran a comb through her hair just to give it some semblance of order. Satisfied that she had taken care of everything she should, Nene left the bathroom and returned to her room.
Taking a seat on her bed she looked around the room, wondering what she might do to keep herself occupied. She really didn't have anything to do; she had made sure of it just so she could sleep in. That she would have forgot to turn her alarm off had not occurred to her.
Shaking her head, she stood up and walked over to her desk.
There was a pile of unanswered letters on her desk. She had not been able to sit down and answer them, lacking the time. Now she had the time. She preferred e-mail but her mother had always told her that if anyone sent her real mail then she should reply in the same way. Her mother had a number of ideas that Nene thought slightly odd, and still Nene did as she said. As if she had a choice, Nene thought, rummaging through her desk drawers in search of some stationary.
She took three pads of stationary from her desk, flipping them open, looking at the paper inside. She chose the one with all the cats then put the other two away.
The first letter in the pile was from her grandmother, her mother's mother. For the most part she was curious about how Nene was and when she was planning on getting married. Her grandmother was a bit of a matchmaking nut. She fell back on her mother's advice for answering the letter, ensuring there was nothing that would make her grandmother go to work.
The next two were not very important, some cousins she had never met but had been corresponding with on and off since she had been twelve. For the most part they wanted to know if she was dating and more importantly if she was sleeping with anyone. Marie also wanted to know a little bit about the universities in Japan as she was thinking of attending one. Nene answered the questions as best she could then put it aside.
Replying to the letter from Yukiko was something she had been putting off. Yukiko Yasui and she had known each other since junior high school; they had been classmates through senior high, until Nene had run away. They had both spent a lot of time influencing each other, depending on who was feeling a bit stronger on any given day. She had pulled Nene into the tennis club. Nene had shown her how to get around passwords. They had been best friends. From the tone of earlier communications-she had heard from a lot of old friends since coming to live with her parents again-and the letter in Nene's hands, Nene's running away had strained that friendship.
Nene looked at the picture that had come with the letter. Her and Yukiko outside of the school, in their tennis uniforms. Yukiko had Nene in a headlock, twisting her knuckle into the top of Nene's head. She was holding a broken tennis racket. Nene smiled, shaking her head. She had been sure that the ball was not that close to the net post. In the end, tennis had never been her forte. She could get by on the courts, but that was it.
Putting the picture aside, Nene got up from her seat and walked over to her closet, sliding the door open. She was pushing outfits aside, looking for her briefcase, when she found her school uniform. She looked at it for a moment, then removed it from the closet. She took the jacket from the hanger and placed the skirt on her bed.
Walking towards the mirror, she pulled on the jacket over her T-shirt. Looking at herself, she pulled the jacket straight. The dark blue blazer had a Roman numeral '3' pin, next to a C pin, on the right lapel. On the left lapel was the school pin. It all seemed so long ago, Nene thought, turning away from the mirror and walking back to the closet.
A little more searching found the briefcase she had used in school, another thing her mother had saved and brought along. She pulled it from the closet and walked back to her desk.
Hanging from briefcase were an Omamori from Meiji Jinja, a small, silver bell and a pair of cloth dolls. Nene unclipped the dolls from the briefcase and held them up at eye level. They were of her and Yukiko, more of a caricature then any attempt at realism. Kind of squashed, in a cute way.
Nene had made two of Yukiko; Yukiko had made two of Nene. Then they had exchanged one. It had been sort of a cute thing to do, though it had started rumours that they were a couple. No truth in it, but at an all girls' school, close friendships always drew a bit of attention.
Smiling, Nene clipped the dolls back to her briefcase then put it on the floor beside her. She picked up her pen and started writing. Time to answer some of Yukiko's questions.
Sylia drove between the piles of rubble and the mounds of old cars. The broken pavement and the slushy roads made driving a little challenging. The entire area should have been reclaimed several months before but without Mason the project had been slowed considerably. The construction equipment in the area suggested that those problems would soon be dealt with. She wondered what Priss would do then.
She rounded a pile of cars, her right fender almost brushing the twisted fencing on the side of the road, and then pulled up beside Priss' trailer. After stopping her car she got out, then set the security alarms and measures. Her foot on the stair leading up to the side door, Sylia stopped to listen. There was music coming from inside the trailer, but it certainly did not sound like anything she had heard from the singer before.
Continuing up the stairs she knocked on the metal door.
"Come," Priss called from the inside.
Sylia pushed at the door, which was unlocked, and entered the trailer. "Ojamashimasu(I'm enteringidiom)."
Priss was seated amongst the cushions on the floor, a samisen across her knees. She deftly moved the bone pick over the strings, calling forth music from it. It was beautiful; Sylia could truly appreciate that now that the sound was not being filtered through the trailer's walls.
"What is it Sylia?" Priss asked, looking up from the instrument but still playing it.
" I need to talk to you," Sylia said.
"So, talk."
Sylia took that as an invitation and pulled the door closed then walked over to Priss. She knelt down on one of the cushions and spent a short time just listening to Priss play. She was very good. The traditional music lacked the anger of her other work, it was peaceful. For a time Sylia felt like a Daimyo might.
"We should have some privacy," Sylia said.
Priss nodded and stopped playing. She pulled a small remote unit from on top of her computer and pressed a few buttons. She looked at the display for a moment then nodded. "We're clean."
"I want to talk about last night."
"What about it?"
"You made things rather loud."
Priss smiled. "I know."
"Was it necessary?"
"We checked the tunnels. The only ones that looked promising were being monitored. I thought that going loud might be the best."
"Knight-hakase left the building early this morning."
Priss looked at Sylia for a moment, then back down at her samisen as she began to play. "I stand by what I did."
"It's quite possible that going in quietly may not have made a difference," Sylia conceded. "Still, in the future I would prefer subtlety when possible."
"So now what?"
"That is the question," Sylia told her. "I discovered what Knight-hakase was working on."
"And that was?"
"It is hard to explain," Sylia admitted. "To put it simply, she has designed a mechanical parasite that sets up in human brains and can trigger a greatly enhanced fight or flight response. Added to that, it increases the targets aggression levels."
"So they'll fight." She stopped playing.
"Brutally."
"Is this some kind of combat drug?" Priss asked. She had experience with combat drugs. She had lost a lot of friends to them.
"It could be used as such, but it also has other applications. Right now it is limited in how it can be introduced to the body. In time it may become possible to introduce it to a city's water supply. The entire population could become infected, as it were. The process can be set to go off at a specific time, or at a specific signal."
"I see," Priss said, picturing the entire population of MegaTokyo snapping at once. "Could be quite effective."
"It could even be used to control a population."
"So, what do you want to do?"
"I have some people keeping an eye on Knight-hakase. I'm going to wait to see if the people who hired us act. If they don't, then we will."
"This is important to you?"
Sylia nodded.
"Why?"
"It's based on some of my father's research."
"He got around, didn't he?"
"It was never his intention that his work be misused as it has been."
Priss said nothing for a moment. "You'd have thought he would have given some thought for the long term consequences."
Sylia was about to say something in defence of her father, then paused for a few seconds. "You may have a point."
"Anything else?" Priss began to play the samisen again.
"The situation with Linna," Sylia told her.
"Getting worried?"
"If she does not get this one, she will get another."
"She can handle both jobs well enough," Priss went back to playing. "For a time at least."
"For a time," Sylia nodded.
"You are thinking of replacing her?"
"No. I am thinking of considering replacements though, if she goes."
"Fine, but why come to me?"
"I could use your help," Sylia said.
"Why?" Priss asked as she stopped playing.
"I'll be looking for someone exactly like Linna. I think you can help me stay away from that."
"Would someone like Linna be a problem?"
"No, but I won't find someone like her. I might find someone so close that I overlook some problems. I put the team together once, but familiarity may make me miss certain things now."
"All right," Priss nodded as she began to play again. "I'll help."
"Thank you."
"When?"
"No rush, not as of yet."
"So, anything else?"
"We'll see," Sylia said. "Tonight, standard time and place."
"I'll be there," Priss said.
"The music is very beautiful," Sylia said.
"Just something from a long time ago."
"You play very well."
"First instrument I learned."
Sylia was about to ask who had taught her but decided against it. That might lead into dangerous areas of the past. She understood the danger of the past as well as anyone.
"I've never seen you play it before."
"Not much call for the samisen in a rock band," Priss said. "Of course," she hit the strings harder and changed the tune, something modern, "I've seen some people use electric ones for an interesting sound."
"I prefer it as it is."
"So do I," Priss said, returning to the traditional music.
"I'll be going now." Sylia got to her feet.
Priss nodded and continued to play as Sylia showed herself out. She stayed just outside the door for several minutes, listening to the music.
Domino stood in front of Quincy, waiting for him to say something. She had just made a full report to him on the status of her work. Now she had to wait.
"What are your plans for the Persies projects in Antarctica?" he asked her.
"I've given it some thought and decided we are best cancelling them as soon at we take over the company. While that will result in a loss for us, the public relations of such a move is not to be underestimated."
"And the jobs that will be lost?"
"Increasing the work they are doing in India not only makes the corporation more valuable but will absorb the people who lose their jobs in Antarctica."
"Satisfactory," he told her. "What of Knight?"
"She is not working on a control system. Her work, from what we have been able to decrypt, looks more like a weapon system."
"What kind of weapon system?"
"A mechanical parasite of some sort, designed to induce a certain set of behaviours on the target. Rage and a very increased fight or flight response, from what we have been able to determine. I don't think Aphros Industries is aware of this work. Perhaps only a small section of its management staff."
"So how do you plan to deal with this?"
"I am researching Aphros Industries to find out who might be dealing with this. I also have people watching Knight-Hakase."
"Do you think it might be possible to affect a take over of Aphros Industries?"
"There are ways, but they would destroy the company."
Quincy nodded. "I want Knight-hakase's work controlled."
"I understand," she said, bowing deeply, then turning to walk from the office. She bowed once more at the doors before leaving.
Quincy watched her the entire time.
Several floors lower than Quincy's office, Domino stared out of the windows, looking out over the city. She was shaking slightly, but only slightly. She could never afford to show weakness in front of Quincy, but afterwards it was fine. Afterwards it was expected.
Her control had receded slightly, letting all the emotions she held bottled up wash over her. So much had happened since she had been born, so much had changed. Sometimes she barely felt in control. Other times she felt the world was hers. It was a good thing, to have so much power.
"Excuse me," someone said from behind her.
"Yes?" Domino said, turning to face the person.
She recognised him right away. Devon Okami. One of Genom's Genro(elder statesman). Maybe the only one. Her defences went up right away. The man in front of her was dangerous, dangerous and powerful. Mason had hated him. Domino thought she should feel something in her, something powerful, but there was only an empty space.
That empty space was something she was familiar with. She had experienced several times over the past several days. From Mason's memories she knew how he had felt about certain people, but she did not have those feelings. Love, hate, they were just words without the emotional back up. What she did feel was a sort of wariness. Devon Okami was a very powerful individual in Genom and not to be taken lightly.
"You look like someone who could use a person to talk to," he said.
She looked at him for several seconds. "Pardon?"
"Sorry. Poor opening line. Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?"
Domino thought about it for a few seconds. Okami was a dangerous man, but he could be useful ally. "Thank you," she said.
He smiled at her and offered her his arm.
Domino took it and let him lead her towards the executive bar.
"Traffic sucked," Priss slipped out of her boots and stepped up, out of the genkan. "Trailer jack-knifed just before the exit." She slid her feet into a pair of slippers waiting for her. "Anyone else here."
"Not yet." Mackie told her.
Priss took of her jacket and hung it on a coat stand near the door. She reached up and loosened the collar of the highnecked blouse she was wearing.
"Sylia waiting?" she asked him.
"In the living room, come on."
Priss followed him into the spacious room, taking a seat in a chair opposite to Sylia who was reading over several sheets of paper, making notes on her laptop computer.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Mackie asked Priss who just shook her head in answer. Mackie took a seat on the couch with his sister.
A few minutes later Linna showed up. She had just pulled a coat over her exercise gear and looked like she had come straight from work.
"Can I use your shower?" she asked Sylia.
"Certainly," Sylia said.
"Thanks," she headed back towards the living section. "Rough day."
"She's working at this one," Priss said, looking at Sylia.
"Main audition tomorrow," Sylia told her.
Priss nodded. She wondered what Linna would do if she got in. A dancer's schedule was pretty demanding and she suspected that Linna would not get away with the stuff she did playing at Hot Legs.
Nene showed up shortly before Linna got out of the shower. Once they were all there Sylia began.
"Last night's mission uncovered something that I find disturbing. Knight-hakase, a protégé-of sorts-of my father has been working with a technology that could be misused, which will be misused."
"What do we do about it?" Priss asked.
"I'm considering options right now," Sylia told her. "I suspect, though I am not sure, that we were working for Genom. I'm curious as to how they might handle this, but I do not wish Knight-hakase's work to come to fruition."
"So are we going to go after her?" Linna asked.
"I'm not sure 'go after her' is the term I would use, but it is quite possible that we will deal with her, very soon. She has fled MegaTokyo after last night's actions. Currently she is set up in an abandoned ski lodge in the mountains of Miyagi-Ken."
"A lot of shrines in that area," Nene said. "Nice skiing too, of course."
"Thank you Miss JTB(Japan Tourism Bureau)," Priss told her.
"Just mentioning it," Nene said defensively.
"It is a defensible area, though certainly not impregnable. My reports are somewhat sketchy, but she might have boomers among her defensive capabilities," Sylia told them.
"So, do we go in there fully loaded?" Priss asked.
"Perhaps, though if we go in the initial mission will be minimum weapons. If we need them, we will have heavier weapons to call on."
"If we go, when?" Nene asked.
"Tomorrow night. We will leave at 10:30pm, we should reach the area by 1am," Sylia told her.
"How long?" Linna asked.
"No more than an hour I would hope," Sylia told her. "If we go in, we go in fast, find what we want, and take it, or destroy it."
"Do we have any building plans or such?" Nene asked.
"Yes, but they are pre-quake. The quake did not effect Miyagi as much as it did this area, but there was still damage. That is one of the reasons the ski lodge is abandoned."
"I think we can save any questions till tomorrow. If this mission is a go I'll let you know by no later than noon tomorrow. We will then meet at the reactor no later than 10."
"Roger," Priss said.
"10pm," Nene said, taking out her NAVI.
"You're not actually going to put that in your scheduler are you?" Priss asked.
"What?" Nene looked up at her. "No," she folded the NAVI close. "I guess not."
"Damn." Priss shook her head.
"I have some work to do," Sylia said, getting to her feet. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Me too," Mackie stood.
"Bye," Nene said, and waited until both Mackie and Sylia were gone. "Linna," Nene asked as she reached into her purse. "What do you think of these?" Nene removed a pair of hair clips.
"Didn't I tell you to get rid of those?" Priss said.
"Not in so many words. I think you just wanted me to stop wearing them."
"What are they?" Linna asked.
"Look," Nene said as she slid the clips into her hair then activated the projectors. The cat ears sprang from her head. "Aren't they cute?"
Linna stared at Nene for a moment. "They're cute, in a way, but, well, they are a little stupid," Linna said.
Priss nodded.
"Well, so are most fashions," Nene said. "Remember loose socks?"
"Loose socks were stupider," Linna admitted.
"We use to beat up anyone wearing loose socks," Priss said. "Used the sock glue to stick them to their foreheads."
"Priss-san?" Nene said, looking over at her. "A bully? I'm so surprised!"
"Got any sock glue?" Priss asked Linna then looked at Nene's socks, which while not being loose would work well enough.
"No," Linna said.
"You hold her, I'll go get some super glue from Mackie then."
Nene took that as her cue to bolt.
