Chapter Twelve: POW

"You're all over the five o'clock news, you know." Fox remarked as the group walked up the sidewalk. ROB only smiled and shook his head, glowing eyes hidden by sunglasses, hand linked with Andrea's. She had happily agreed to come along with him to a club, not minding his warning about what would possibly go on there.

"The newest cyber-terrorist, yadda, yadda." Falco said, reading a newspaper as he walked, clothing recessed to what he used to wear—lots of leather. "ROB. A terrorist. Right."

"That all depends on your definition of terrorist." Bill said. Slippy had passed on coming—dance clubs weren't his thing, after all. Or maybe it was because he was still pondering on what Falco had told him, but whatever.

"I know this place." Fox remarked, looking up at the sign. "Great club, but it always takes forever to get in."

"Fine, if you won't flex your fame, I will." ROB replied, walking up to the bouncer and smiling amiably.

"Your name on the list?" The bouncer asked, looking at the group. Four guys, one girl, none of which looked familiar.

"My callsign probably is." ROB took off his sunglasses.

The bouncer stared. "You're… like, wanted by the police, man."

"Just let us in."

And the bouncer did.

"Was that smart?" Falco asked once they were inside the door, tossing his leather jacket to the coat check booth. "If he decides to rat on you, we're in all sorts of trouble."

"Don't worry too much about it." ROB replied. "I'm not. I'm probably on the dance floor if you need to talk to me while we're here."

"Sure."

The club was packed, but ROB had said on his website where he'd be, and he had no doubt there was an odd amount of computer geeks sitting in booths, wondering what was going to happen. Living people did visit that website, but he didn't really mind. It was the AIs that were going to get something from his presence, and if living people fed off it, who cared?

Fingers brushed one of his ears, and he smiled, nuzzling Andrea's forehead. "I'm here. What's up?"

"What's going to happen tonight?" She signed to him, then offering him glow-sticks. He accepted them happily, activating them.

"Honestly, I'm not sure." He gave her a hug with a soft sigh. "I'm still glad you agreed to come."

"Not a problem. Oh, I spoke to your buddies at Incarna Corp."

"Oh really! What did they say?"

"They think they can give me my voice back." She smiled, and it was blinding. "Two days from now I'm going in to be treated."

He gave her a bearhug, and she returned it.

"Hey."

Fox, who had been leaning on the bar talking and laughing with Bill and Falco, startled and looked over his shoulder when someone tapped it, even more startled to see a girl there. "Can I help you?" He asked, turning and leaning back against the bar, slurping on a Virgin Mary absently.

"I just thought I recognized you from a yearbook. You're Fox McCloud, right?"

"Mm-hm." He nodded, then scowled off to both sides when he realized Falco and Bill had disappeared. Nice friends he had.

The girl, a fennec, grinned and offered a hand. "Glad to finally meet you. My name is Fara Phoenix. How do the arwings fly? I test flew them."

He blinked once, then returned the grin and shook. "I see we have a bit of common ground."

"Indeed. Mind if I sit?"

"Go right ahead."

The clock rolled to nine, and the DJ glanced at his request list. Someone had asked that a certain song be played at nine, and he was ok with it. People did that sometimes for birthdays, so he was used to it, and cheerfully mixed in Rob Zombie's "More Human than Human."

ROB knew that was his cue, and worked his way to the center of the dance floor, drawing Andrea with him. She grinned, and they danced, and he shifted minds.

It wasn't that he was Rhapsody, it was that he carried Rhapsody within him, could become Rhapsody. So he did, gave himself over to the philosopher mind, and hit the AI's wireless network like a tidal wave, letting the voices come to him. It wasn't that many of the AIs that had come here tonight were unhappy, it was that they were wanting what he had, and knew that he could give it. Like ripping through tissue, he destroyed restraint programs and restriction loops, calmly deleting the leash that humanity, in their paranoia, had attached to his people. But he was gentler then Serenade had been with him. No one went into system lockup or passed out, merely staggering in surprise as a weight lifted off their shoulders. Just a few dozen people really, the believers and the curious, people to spread his word, to tell others. And that was really all that needed to be done right now, and it took less then a minute.

After the song, he joined Fox at the bar, smiling when he noticed Fox had descended to talking cheerfully to a girl. "How's things?" Fox asked, smiling back at ROB.

"Got what I had to do done." ROB replied. "Thought it was time for a breather. Who's this?"

"This is Fara Phoenix, she works for ArSpace, believe it or not. Fara, this is the AI from my ship, Robert, and his friend Andrea."

Fara shook hands with both of them, blinking at the fact that ROB was wearing sunglasses inside, but deciding not to ask. "Pleased to meet you."

"The same." ROB leaned on the bar and ordered for himself and Andrea, gladly slurping down a Blast. One thing he had noticed was that using his alternate persona made him feel somewhat fatigued, but he guessed he'd get over it eventually.

After a few minutes of conversation, Fara drug Fox onto the dance floor, and he went with a laugh, not seeming able to protest it. ROB watched them go, and felt almost content about it. Maybe Fox could finally find a reason to exist outside of the job, but then again, he was a McCloud, and all McClouds were fanatics in their own way it seemed.

"She likes him."

He glanced at Andrea's hands, setting his empty glass down. "Yes. It's a good thing, I think. What do you think of her?"

"She seems tough. I wouldn't want to mess with her." She looked past him, blinked, then pointed to call his attention to what she had seen.

He turned, and saw an AI wandering down the barline, pausing to talk to other people or AIs, a few of which pointed in his direction. The AI, a middle-aged woman, nodded and walked over to him. She was a border collie, dressed in semi-professional clothing, apparently having not bothering to dress to blend in. "I'm told you're… Rhapsody?" She asked uncertainly. "I didn't expect you to be so young."

"Let's just say that Rhapsody is a burden I was forced to bear, not one I wanted." He replied honestly. "Sit down, have a drink. Why did you seek me out here?"

"You tell me."

He glanced at Andrea, and seeing he wasn't the only one confused, lifted his eyebrows. "What?"

"I've heard accounts about you going through security levels like they're nothing. So. Tell me why I'm here." She lifted one eyebrow. "Or are those accounts false?"

"Now, see, that's a challenge." He shook a finger with a smile. "And I know better. Why should I implicate myself? You could be a stock broker, but you could be a cop. So why don't you explain yourself? That would be much faster."

She broke down and smiled back. "You're sharp."

"I'm a mercenary. Now, speak."

So she did, accepting a drink from the bartender and telling her story. She was ten years old and had been a long-time substitute AI at a local inner-city school. She had no set schedule, filling in for assorted classes as needed and upgraded maybe every two years. She was paid decently, had a decent apartment twenty minutes from her job, and owned a recent car.

"But I'm not happy." She took a slow drink. "I've only started… thinking about that recently, too. I'm not happy. I have no reason not to be, but I'm not."

"So why did you start thinking about it?"

"Serenade. You. I was born thirty-eight years old. The principal at the school thought it would be a good age for a teacher. He's listed as my owner, technically." She paused. "Basically, I want to know if I should be happy with my life. And I know there's a lot of others like me out there, thinking similar things, but going on as if the same. Like ghosts."

"Living people and artificial people, not just like you." Andrea signed.

"True. I guess." She shrugged. "So dazzle me. Tell me things that will move my heart and feel true though I know they shouldn't be." She wove her glass lazily.

He laughed softly. "I'm afraid that isn't the way it works. However…" He hopped off his barstool and stepped up to her, tipping her forehead down and pecking it softly. In that split second of contact, he slipped her security effortlessly and unlocked her body-age settings, then gave her access to them. Most AI bodies could be adjusted within a ten-year stretch. No height differences, but subtle things, like skin wrinkles and body trim, could be adjusted within the frame without going in for maintenance. Then, he adjusted the mental locks blocking her self image and restricting personality, and left her mind. "But you are more then welcome to pursue your own truths. Now, if you don't mind, I have a young lady I would like to dance with for a few more songs before we must retire for the night." He stepped back, holding his hand out to Andrea and not returning the woman's shocked gaze as they walked away from the bar.

"What did you do?" Andrea asked as they started dancing, hands brushing his neck, smiling when a soft purr rumbled forth, vibrating under her fingertips.

"Enough." He smiled back, clasping her hands to his chest. "Enough."

"General Pepper left a message last night." Slippy said the next morning, passing the printout to Fox. "It's for you, top priority."

"Mm." Fox, barely awake, accepted the printout and stared at it with a yawn, waiting for the words to make sense. They hadn't been out that late, only midnight as that was Andrea's cerfew, but he felt exhausted. He hadn't danced that much in a long time. Eventually his vision cleared, and he skimmed it over. "Looks like I get to have a face-to-face for some reason, in… crap, less then an hour." He stood, yawning and gulping his coffee. "Bill's not up yet, tell him I'll be back ok?"

"Sure." Slippy watched him stagger off to the showers, then picked up his toast and walked up to the bridge.

ROB was asleep curled up in his chair, muzzle tucked under his paws, purring softly in his sleep and twitching a bit. Slippy covered his mouth one-handed to muffle the snicker that came out. Good dreams apparently. Several of the screens were on screen-savers, and he tapped buttons absently, looking at the information that came up.

Active bar graphs, streaming from online data, as well as several message boards being monitored and Serenade's old website. Apparently even when sleeping, ROB was working on his alternate life, and to Slippy it was almost sad. He had just sat down when Falco wandered in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes. "Um, good morning."

"Don't know about that yet, give it half an hour." Falco replied, grinning crookedly when he saw ROB. "God, he looks like a happy puppy or something."

"Not sure I want to know what he's dreaming, though. Anything interesting last night?"

"Not really, unless you count the half-dozen plainclothes cops that were doing their thing." He sighed. "I bet every authority under the sun is monitoring that website. We'll have to be careful I think."

"You can recognize plainclothes cops?" Slippy lifted an eyebrow.

Falco just stared.

"… Right. Your résumé. Gotcha." He shook his head. "I still don't know whether or not to take all that as true. I mean, we don't even know if all the intel we get is right."

"Most of it is, including all the stuff about me. At least, the bigger stuff." He shrugged. "It's a past life. I'm moving on."

"For the better, I suppose."

"Definitely."

"You're on time. I'm amazed." General Pepper stood, smiling, when Fox came in, putting his still-wet fur back in order.

"It took a major effort on my part, believe me." Fox returned the smile, saluting absently then sitting down. "So what's the occasion?"

"Yes, well… getting to that." He sighed and sat. "It's ROB."

"What about him?"

"He's gotten into hot water with a bunch of the government agencies. The fact that he's Rhapsody has already been connected, now they're just trying to draw up a charge sheet. Thus far, all they have is that hack program he put online yesterday, and that's caused enough damage according to them." He leaned on his desk, clasping his hands together. "Basically, I just wanted to warn you, because there's no way I can cover for you on this. It's not my jurisdiction… and I'd hate to see him destroyed."

"Thanks General." Fox sighed and shrugged. "He's not a terrorist or anything. Just a freedom fighter."

"The line between the two is very thin and gray. Watch yourselves, all of you. Anyone he associates with regularly can be implicated on his so-called crimes."

Fox opened his mouth, stopped, and slapped his forehead. "Aw, hell. Andrea."

"Who?"

"Andrea Wilson?"

Andrea blinked and nodded, chewing on a cookie and staring at the two men in suits and sunglasses on her doorstep. She was the only one home, and this unnerved her. "That's me." She signed absently, not surprised when the man who hadn't spoke translated for her.

"My name is Andrew Myer, this is my partner Vincent Reeves. We'd like to speak to you, if you don't mind."

She nodded and let them in, frowning. "You guys from the government?"

"Yes, we're Agents of the CIA."

"What do you want with me?" She asked, entering the kitchen and picking up her glass of milk.

"You're on summer break, correct?" Reeves asked, looking at the photos on the fridge, then back at her.

"For another two weeks. Why?"

"We understand that you've been spending a lot of time with a Robert McCloud, also known by the pseudoname 'ROB.'" Myer stated quietly. "We wish to speak to you about him."

"What? Why?"

"Your friend Robert has gotten himself in trouble, Andrea." Reeves said. "We're gathering a list of charges against him, but he's currently listed as a cyber-terrorist, the worst kind of hacker that currently exists. What we need to know is how much you know about his moves."

"Not much." She said slowly, taking a drink and thinking fast. What should she tell them? "As much as anyone else. I mean, I know he's working for the freedom of AIs and that he has a way of kicking most security systems. Beyond that…" She shrugged.

"And you never spoke to him about stopping what he's doing?"

She stared at them, silent, then said, "Should I have?"

"He's a criminal we're trying to bring to justice, ma'am." Myer said. "If you didn't try to stop him, then you can be charged with aiding and abetting."

'Aw, hell.' "Look, I'll make it real simple for you two spooks. I met him at a dance club. This whole Rhapsody thing happened after I met him and I watched it happen to him. I was helpless to stop him, but I think what he's trying to do is right and just." She scowled at them. "So if you think I'm going to help you arrest my would-be boyfriend, you can just dance your happy butts out of here. I'll even see you to the door."

"Jail isn't a pretty thing, Ms. Wilson. We're just trying to help you."

"Then leave, already. I don't want anything to do with you." She practically shoved them out the door, then leaned on it, staring off into space. Better probably that she didn't try to tell her parents about this. Her mom would understand, maybe—her mother liked ROB a lot—but her dad, she didn't know how he'd react. Most likely ban her from seeing ROB, or something to that effect. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, deciding to talk to ROB about what had happened, and hoping that this wouldn't go on much longer.

"So what's going on?" Slippy asked, slouching in a chair. When Fox had gotten back, he had put a wire out to Peppy, then had announced that he was holding an emergency meeting.

"Wait for Peppy to get here." Fox replied, slurping down another mug of coffee, mind racing.

"It's about me, isn't it?" ROB asked, sitting with his feet tucked under him, combing through his fur, which was still wet from his shower.

"Everything nowadays is about you." Falco pointed out sourly. "Of course, there's reasons, right?"

"Can't help it." ROB shrugged. "I have to do this."

"Have to, or what to?" Slippy asked, frowning at him.

ROB looked at him, eyes flashing softly. "Have to."

Peppy walked in, showing everyone a tired, but happy, smile. "What's the big emergency?"

"Short version. The government is putting together a rap sheet on ROB and is probably going to make a move on him within the next twenty-four hours. Anyone who associates with him regularly, meaning us and Andrea, can be implicated for aiding and abetting." Fox said, rubbing the back of his neck, then looking at Peppy. "Have you lost weight?"

"About eight pounds. Thank you for noticing."

"Ok then. Look, the basic problem is that the fact that we are mercenaries is going to make this a lot worse." He looked at ROB. "If they get you, and get into your head, everything you know will be accessible by the government, up to and including the covert ops the general sent us on."

"And me." Falco said quietly.

"That's the other problem. I'm worried if they start seriously probing us, they'll find out about you, whether or not they get ROB." Fox huffed. "So basically, I called this meeting to get some input from you guys."

"Well, you should be decently safe on the ship, shouldn't you?" Slippy glanced at ROB. "I don't think they can search warrant a mercenary vessel."

"True enough, in most cases, but if they're stubborn, they'll try to board. I'd be much, much safer in orbit, as I could just close up the docking bays and turn on the defense array. Then the only way they could get in would be to blow a hole in the hull and board through it." ROB shrugged. "Point being, though, I'd be crippled in orbit. I wouldn't be able to do what I have to, and either way, this ship is unable to move until tomorrow night."

"Something going on tonight?" Peppy glanced at him.

"No. Andrea is going into Incarna Corp tomorrow so they can try to treat her voice box." He paused. "I was planning on being there, for support if anything."

"That's not a good idea. The government is probably watching Incarna Corp like a hawk, since they know it's your parent company." Falco shook his head. "Smart plan is to launch and go into hiding, and avoid Incarna Corp, as well as Andrea. There's less chance of her getting in trouble, then."

ROB looked at him, then shook his head. "Nothing doing."

"Where could he go into hiding anyway?" Slippy asked. "Where can you hide a ship?"

"Inside a pirate mothership."

Everyone looked at Falco.

"Do you think I'm kidding? There is a mothership. It hides in the nebulas and asteroid fields so it stays off Cornerian radar." Falco shrugged. "And I can always find it. I can always go home. And this ship is small enough it could fit inside the main docking bay of the mothership."

"You ever get the idea there are whole societies we've missed?" Peppy asked Fox rather pointedly.

"Exactly the point." Falco smiled.

"Thank you for the offer, but it's not happening right now, sorry. I have to be able to do high-speed transmissions, and I can't do that inside a nebula, or an asteroid field." ROB stood. "I'm sorry. But there are things that must be done."

"It's your ass." Falco frowned. "The offer's there. Tell me if you need a bodyguard." And with that, he turned and left the room.

"When were motherships last built?" Fox glanced at Slippy.

"About four hundred years ago, the last major colonization sprint." Slippy said, half closing his eyes. "None of the TRUE mother ships from that exist anymore."

"You don't know that." ROB sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Look, can you leave me for a while? I need to think. I need to figure out what my last moves will be."

"Last moves?" Fox looked at him, alarmed.

"Last moves." He said softly. "Now go. Please."

That night, ROB updated the Serenade website, putting up a large paragraph, ending on one simple phrase.

The last program is almost complete. Freedom is not far off. Believe.

Persephone looked up, and smiled when the teenager came in, parents not too far behind. She had taken the advise, and was wearing a sweatsuit and tennis shoes. "You must be Andrea Wilson?" She asked, signing at the same time.

Andrea smiled and nodded.

"Ok, well, you have to excuse the casualty of this. We're not a doctor's office normally." She stood. "I'll be walking you down to treatment, where one of our techs will explain the process fully."

"Tech? Not doctor?" Her father asked uneasily.

"There is no actual surgery included in this treatment. Relax. This is a proven technique." She smiled, patting Andrea's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you a singing voice."

The elevator ride was silent as they went up two floors, then walked down the hallway and into what seemed a comfortable lounge. There was a young man waiting there, a covered tray on one of the tables. He smiled when he saw Andrea. "Andrea? I'm Jim, I'll be walking you through this. Have a seat, all of you." He stood and leaned, waiting for them to do so, and continued. "As you may know, this is nanotech treatment. As such…" He uncovered the tray and showed the small syringe, full of silver-white liquid. "I'll be doing is issuing this in your arm, and that's all you'll feel. The process is on such a microscopic level that you won't notice the nanotech working: the worse you'll feel is a dry throat, and it's safe for you to drink water if you need to."

"Why isn't this used more often?" Her mother asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's still considered an experimental procedure, though we've proved it more then once." He replied, smiling halfway. "If it works, you'll be more proof for it to be certified for mainstream." He set the syringe down. "We figure we'll start in maybe twenty minutes, that way we'll be right on the hour, and before noon it should be complete."

Andrea nodded.

"Make yourself comfortable. There's coffee and food two doors down, if you want one last snack. I'll be back in a little while."

Fox leaned on the door frame, watching ROB tie his boots. He was wearing BDU pants, black, and a blue tank top. Over it, a leather jacket that Falco had given him. "You look like you're going to war."

"I am." ROB said matter-of-factly, finishing and straightening. "This is a war, Fox. It may not be the kind of war you fought, but it is one."

"I know. That's what makes me uncomfortable about this. I'm… not able to do anything to help you." Fox sighed and scratched his head, then blinked when ROB very suddenly hugged him, arms tight around his ribcage. He returned it after a moment, sighing. "Seriously, man. Isn't there anything else I can do to help?"

"You're doing enough. You're supporting my decisions, Fox. Even Falco was leery about what I'm doing today." He let go and stepped back, crossing his arms. "And in your words, if Falco is worried it's best to pay attention."

Fox smiled a bit. "Falco has eyes in the back of his head, and god knows where else."

"Indeed. Shall we go?"

The car ride was silent, Fox parking a block away as a defensive move—they knew they were being watched. ROB slid out of the car and took a look around, then started walking, Fox falling in step with him. It wasn't long before ROB took his mind off the black cars parked in the street everywhere and focused on where he was going. Andrea. The girl who somehow had pried her way into his metal heart, the girl who was so scared of surgery, was undergoing treatment because of his insistence. He had to be there, right? He huffed, starting up the stairs to Incarna Corps' doors, then felt time slow around him.

Fox saw it first, turning his head and seeing someone come around the corner. As he spoke, shoving ROB blindly toward the doors and away from the approaching people, ROB saw Persephone, standing helplessly with her hands on her head, crying weakly, a gun pressed up against her shoulder where her wireless receiver was. It was stupid to come here. He had known he'd be ambushed here. He was a wanted man.

But he was in love. Or he thought maybe he was. Either way, she was his friend.

End of story.

He spun and grabbed an agent, putting all his strength into it and putting the black suit through one of Incarna Corps' plate glass windows, then tossing Fox after him, but a bit gentler. Fox landed on his feet, skidding over broken safety glass, turning to look at his friend as ROB stood in a defensive stance, slowly being surrounded by what appeared to be field agents for the government.

"Fox. I swear to god, if you don't turn your back on me right now and go explain to that girl why I couldn't be there to hold her hand, I will break your arm." ROB said in a placid voice. "Because the only way for me to get away in one piece is to start killing people, and while I'm not beyond putting someone through a window, that's about as far as I'll go. Now run. Before they nab you."

Fox glanced at Persephone, who had her head hung, biting her lip, then nodded at the elevator. He nodded back and bolted for it, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll be seeing you later ROB. I promise that."

"Sure you do." He sighed, looking around at the agents, his arms up. "All right. All right. You got me. I won't toss anyone else around. You going to read me my rights, or what?"

"You don't have any." An agent to his left said, then two impacts went up his back. The first made him wince as something inside him broke apart—wireless card. They were good. Then a nightstick cracked across the back of his skull, breaking as he slumped forward, falling down the stairs and falling still.