Again, not much reaction to that last chapter, but thank you for your feedback Jim. I guess there's just not a lot of activity in this particular fandom; still, since this is already written, I might as well get it out there.
Dr. Kenjiro Nakatomi sat behind his polished mahogany desk in his expensively but tastefully decorated office on the ground floor of the Cytech Enterprises administrative building. Normally, at this hour, he'd have been in one of the laboratories he oversaw, or maybe out at a field site, checking on the progress of one of his projects. But tonight, he had to take time out from these activities for a particularly important phone call.
On his desk's built-in work station, he'd opened a secure-line phone window, scrambled and encrypted far beyond the ability of any but the most sophisticated code breaking software to crack, and awaited an answer.
After two rings, the other party picked up, and he found himself gazing at a very familiar lavender haired woman. Familiar for reasons that very few but himself knew, he though with a sly mental grin.
"Ms. Madigan," he said warmly, "Always a pleasure to speak to you."
"Dr. Nakatomi," she replied in a more neutral tone, "So good to hear from you as well. Your report?"
Frowning thoughtfully, he said, "Stage One was officially complete this morning. Ms. Natomi's 'break-in' period is over. We've purposely kept stress levels as low as possible for her until now, and the results have been encouraging. She's demonstrated a markedly better adaptation to her situation than the late Mr. Fanward, to say the least, and I think that, while far from conclusive, this certainly suggests that cyber-psychosis isn't an inevitable result of full-body prosthesis. The possibilities should open up from here."
A small smile graced Ms. Madigan's lips then, and she said, "That could be, Doctor, but I believe there's still the small matter of Stage Two to be overcome first, yes? Ms. Natomi has proven that she can make it in a relatively friendly environment, but she hasn't been through her baptism by fire yet, now has she?"
Dr. Nakatomi smiled just slightly, and said, "Oh, it's begun already, I assure you. She and the Advanced Police Department's new chief are… interacting just as we thought they might. My sources there have informed me that the results of her meeting with him tonight were quite…spectacular. And it should be rather interesting to see how she and her new partner operate together. A human 'handler' for products of her type might or might not be a direction in which we'd want to proceed."
On the other end, Ms. Madigan nodded slowly, and said, "Good. It sounds like everything's on track, then. We'll begin our phase of the operation immediately." And then, smiling in a predatory manner, she added, "There are a few other of our products that need concurrent testing, after all."
"Excellent," Nakatomi said slowly. "She left the ADP tower about a half hour ago in Mr. Hall's company. By all reports, she seemed to be in a much better mood than she was immediately following the meeting with the chief of police. In fact, I believe both of them were in civilian attire, and Mr. Hall had mentioned 'getting her away from it all for a night'. It seems that they may be much more compatible than I'd thought."
"Well," Ms. Madigan said playfully, "It certainly seems a shame to ruin such a rare night out. But business is business, after all."
Still smiling, Dr. Nakatomi said, "Quite." And then, as an afterthought, "You shouldn't have any trouble locating or tracking her from the Tower. You know the frequencies to monitor. And of course I'll be recording the telemetric data here for analysis."
Ms. Madigan nodded, and said, "And we have enough 'covert' units around to ensure excellent footage for later review as well. I think we just about have this covered, Doctor."
"I'm sure of that, Ms. Madigan," he said. "And I'm equally sure that, whatever the outcome of the Stage Two, we'll collect excellent data. Even if we end up testing Ms. Natomi to destruction, I'm certain that we'll find out everything we need to know to make our… other projects a success."
Smiling wolfishly now, Ms. Madigan said, "My thoughts exactly, Doctor. Now I believe it's time to get things started."
Hall had certainly been right about the atmosphere, though with a name like 'Hot Legs', she hadn't known what to expect. "Huh!" She'd said when they'd pulled up and she'd seen the sign. "This isn't a titty bar or something, is it Hall? Because that's really not my idea of fun right now. Not even if they have a Chip n' Dale's show."
Hall had just snorted and said, "Naw, this place is cool. Never mind the name. This is one of McNichol's favorite hang-outs, by the way. He turned me on to it."
'Kiko had rolled her eyes, and said, "Oh, now there's a recommendation!"
Shaking his head, Hall had said, "You'll see. Just come on in."
Reluctantly she had, and she had to admit, she wasn't sorry. Inside, the place wasn't half bad. The drinks weren't overpriced or watered down, or at least that's what Hall told her, and the crowd seemed fairly interesting. Not a bunch of stuffed shirts like you'd find in an uptown bar, and not the serious low-lifes who could be found just a little closer to the Canyons. There seemed to be a representative mix of people from many of Mega Tokyo's social stratas, and they all seemed to be blending well together.
In fact, Akiko realized, that's probably what she found herself liking most about the place. It was one of those establishments that, while there were definitely regulars, could accommodate almost anyone. Maybe, she thought, even someone who wasn't quite human anymore.
"Ok, Hall, you were right," she said, pitching her voice above the hum of conversation and the canned background music that was playing on the bar's sound system at the moment. "This place isn't bad at all." And then, frowning slightly, she said, "But I kind of wish I wasn't getting so many eyeballs. There are plenty of other girls in here, most of them without male escorts, so what gives? Why are so many guys staring at me?"
Hall just laughed and said, "You're shittin' me, right? Haven't you bothered to look in a mirror for the last two months?"
Her frown deepened, and she said, "Yeah, of course I have. And I know, who-the-hell-ever did the cosmetic work on me went way overboard, but damn! I'm not even dressed up! No make-up either, and I didn't really do a damn thing with my hair! So what the hell?"
Taking in the simple blue chiffon dress she wore, her plain white sandals, and the pale blue scrunchie that held her hair back in a school girl's ponytail, Hall saw all too clearly what the other men in the club were looking at.
He hadn't been sure how she'd dress when he'd waited for her in her suite's living room, and she'd managed to surprise him. He'd been expecting maybe jeans and a t-shirt, or something similar, something more like what most of the female line officers he knew tended to wear off duty. All of them, it seemed, liked to dress a little tough, or at least with little eye for fashion.
But Natomi had chosen to go for the soft look. The girlish look. And that had thrown him just a little bit. But, in hindsight, he supposed it figured. She, out of every other woman in the ADP, needed the very least to prove how tough she was. In fact, he realized, she probably wanted to feel just a little bit soft for a while. Like a woman again, instead of a cyber-enhanced boomer-killer. Yeah, he could understand that, he thought.
Aloud, he said wryly, "'Kiko, not only are you one of the prettiest girls in here, but in that get-up you're probably sparking off every 'school-girl' fantasy that any of these bastards has ever had. And before you get pissed, that's a compliment, not a criticism, ok?"
'Kiko just laughed, apparently deciding that she didn't mind the attention so much after all, and said, "Well, since you put it that way, partner. And while we're on the subject, I must say, you clean up pretty well yourself. I never would've figured you for the dressy type, but…"
Looking down at the expensive and trendy light blue suit he wore, Hall grunted and said, "Yeah, I know, everybody probably figures I just wear fatigues twenty-four-seven like old Dieork used to. I guess that's just the image I throw out there."
She nodded, and said, "You could say that. But hey! I thought you said there was a band playing here tonight. I can see the equipment on stage, but where are they? We've been here a while now. Isn't this a pretty long break if they're between sets?"
Scanning the room, Hall said, "Well, this band is like that sometimes. They're damn good, but their lead singer is a little flakey. Got a helluva voice, but she does things her own way and on her own schedule." And then, locating a pair of familiar faces, he said, "Yeah, I see her now. And I'll be damned if she's not sharing a table with Nene Romanova."
'Kiko frowned, and said, "Romanova? You mean that little red-headed operator who's always bouncing from one shift to another? Huh! I would've though this place was a little rough for her tastes."
Hall shrugged, and said, "Well, you can ask her if you want." And then, grinning slyly, he said, "It'd be a damned good excuse to meet one of the band too."
'Kiko smiled, and said, "Well, hell, why not?"
With that, they started to make their way through the crowd, Hall breaking trail for the smaller Natomi. Not that she couldn't have done it quite handily herself, he knew. He just thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do.
As they approached, Hall saw that the two young women were talking and laughing together animatedly, obviously good friends. He found that a bit odd, considering the reputation Miss Asagiri had when it came to cops. Leon had sworn up and down that for some reason she had a positive chip on her shoulder where the ADP was concerned. But, then again, Hall knew that oftentimes friendships transcended occupations, and it was entirely possible that Nene's relationship to Asagiri had developed completely outside her job. Still, he had a hard time picturing it.
"Hey! Nene!" He called as they made it to the table. "Sure as hell didn't expect to see you here. And I didn't know you were in good with the band, either."
Nene started slightly at the sound of her name, and looked at Hall and Natomi with widening eyes. 'Huh!' Hall thought. 'She looks like her mom just caught her with her hand in the cookie jar or something. Wonder what's up with that?' The Asagiri woman, thankfully without the awful blonde wig that Hall still couldn't believe she actually wore on stage, just frowned at them silently, apparently less than happy at the interruption.
Finding her voice after her original surprise, Nene said, "Oh! SGT Hall!" And then in a slightly incredulous tone, "And SGT Natomi? Um, well, I sure didn't expect to see either of you here tonight. Are you, er, having fun?"
Hearing the forced tone in Nene's voice, it was obvious to Hall that he and Akiko weren't exactly the two people in the world she'd most hoped to see tonight. Of course he could understand wanting to leave work at work, and mostly he avoided his co-workers off the job too. But something about Nene's reaction didn't seem quite right, and he wondered just what might be going on between her and the other woman. Were they more than just friends? No, Hall was pretty sure that that wasn't Romanova's style. Drugs? Hell, he hoped not. Or maybe Nene was just shy about mixing her off-duty friends with acquaintances from work. Whatever the case, it piqued Hall's interest, and he didn't plan on just leaving it alone.
Aloud, he said, "Yeah, so far. But we were wondering when your friend there was gonna play another set. 'Priss and the Replicants' is what really makes this place, after all."
Before Nene could reply, Priss, still frowning, said, "I'll get around to another set when I damn well please. Right now, I'm taking a break to shoot the shit with a friend. Or at least I was before we were interrupted."
Hall frowned, and was trying to formulate something tactful to say, always a chore for him, when Natomi beat him to the punch.
"Well, that was damn rude, lady." She said deadpan, stepping up to the table. "Especially to a couple of potential fans. Probably explains why you're still playing in a place like this instead of a concert hall."
'Ah, shit,' Hall thought, having heard second hand stories about Priss Asagiri's temper. And, seeing the color drain from Nene's face as it did, he figured she must have first hand experience.
"What'd you say!" Priss yelled, surging to her feet and leaning over the table toward Natomi.
For her part, Natomi casually rested her hands on the table and leaned forward as well, so that her face was mere inches from Priss's. "You heard me," she said in an even tone. "If you're this bitchy to all of your fans, it's no wonder that you're playing the bar circuit. Musicians generally have to be a hell of a lot more popular than you are to get away with treating their fans like shit. If you keep up like this, you're never gonna make it that far."
Hall saw the color rise on Priss's face, and he knew what was coming. With a growled, "Nobody talks to me like that, you bitch!" Priss drew back her fist and, if not for a certain cute little red-head's sudden intervention, would likely have started something that Hall just didn't want to see. But luckily, as she drew back, Nene all but jumped on her, wrapping both of her arms around Priss's and hanging on for dear life.
"Priss! No!" She yelled. "You don't understand! She's not-!"
But before Nene could finish her sentence, Natomi seemed just to sag all of a sudden, almost as if she had been struck. Eyes misting over, she backed away from the table, and stammered, "I didn't mean- That is I- Ah, shit. I guess this pretty well screws up our little night out, Hall. I should've known better. I guess we'd better go before anything else happens."
With a heavy sigh, Hall said, "Yeah, I guess you're right, 'Kiko. I think we've just about worn out our welcome here."
Looking up at Priss, who by now had dropped her fist and was looking more puzzled than angry, 'Kiko said, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten up in your face like that. Hall and I are the outsiders here, even if Nene does work with us. We're out of here."
Frowning curiously, Priss said, "Wait a minute, now. Don't take off just yet. As much as I hate to admit it, that shit wasn't all your fault. I guess I was a little touchy there."
'Kiko smiled slightly, and said, "Oh, not really. I probably wouldn't have been too happy in your shoes either. You're over here trying to take a break with your friend, and we just come over and butt in."
Priss grunted, and said, "Yeah, well, either way, it's been a while since I had anybody stand up to me like that. You're not afraid of very much, are you?"
'Kiko just shook her head and laughed softly. Seeing the puzzlement on Priss's face, she said, "I guess you could say that. After some of the shit I've been through, there's not much left worth being afraid of. But I can truly say that I didn't want to fight you, for a lot of reasons."
Even more puzzled now, Priss turned to Nene, who seemed to be very uncomfortable for some reason, and said, "Ok, Nene, what's going on here? Who exactly are these two friends of yours?"
"Well," Nene said a bit nervously, pointing to Hall, "This is SGT Hall, one of the line squad tactical commanders I work with. And, uh, this is SGT Natomi. She's umm…"
With a sigh, Natomi picked up where Nene trailed off. "I'm the ADP's big crapshoot, that's what I am. A bunch of big-wigs are making bets both ways on whether or not the Mark II Anti-Boomer Cyborg is gonna pan out right now. And having 'it' get into a bar fight over a silly-ass disagreement probably wouldn't make a very good case in my favor."
Eyes widening, Priss looked sharply to Nene and said, "Oh, shit! So she's the one I've been hearing about on the damn news the last couple of months! And you didn't say jack shit until I was about to break my hand on her face!"
Indignant, Nene said, "Well it's not like you gave me a chance! By the time I knew what was going on, the two of you were ready to go at it! So it wouldn't have been my fault if she'd mopped the floor with you!"
"I wouldn't have done that," 'Kiko said softly. "Sure, I get pissed off, just like anybody else. But I know how to control myself. You kind of have to when your whole body is a lethal weapon, after all."
Hearing her slightly mournful tone, Priss frowned and said, "Huh! You don't sound too happy about the situation."
'Kiko snorted, and said, "Happy? Should I be happy that I got shot off the side of a building and made a concrete angel when I landed? Or that after my body finally gave up the ghost, some bastard somewhere decided to take advantage of the fact that I'd agreed to be an organ donor by harvesting my brain and slapping it into this androidial combat machine? Or maybe I should be happy that, since this all happened, my daughter has been in a corporate-sponsored foster home, and I've gotten to see her exactly twice, for about ten minutes each time. That's a hell of a lot to be happy about, now isn't it?"
Eyes widening slightly, Priss said, "You've got a daughter? And they won't let you see her?"
'Kiko sighed, and said, "Maiume. That's her name. And no, until my probationary period is up, I only have 'limited and supervised' visitation rights. The translation is they don't want me around her too much just in case this whole thing doesn't pan out. In case they end up having to… recall me, I guess you'd say."
"That's bullshit!" Priss said indignantly. "You mean to tell me that those corporate bastards are keeping your kid from you and you're letting them? Shit, if it was me, if I had a kid like that, I'd storm the damn Tower to get her back if I had to! And just let the bastards try to stop me!"
'Kiko smiled wistfully, and said, "Well, don't think I haven't considered it. But it just wouldn't work. Nobody's said so, but I'm sure those bastards built in safeguards to make sure nothing like that could happen. You ever see that old, old movie, 'Robocop'?"
Priss nodded, and said, "Yeah, when I was a kid. We had a bunch of old DVD's, and I remember that one. I had to sneak it out to watch it because my folks thought it was too damn violent for me. They were probably right, I guess, but I sure thought it was cool back then." She paused, looking down as old memories began to drift toward the surface, and then said, "But all that crap got lost in the Quake. Along with every other damn thing that mattered to me, including my parents. Goddamn. That sure as hell wasn't anything I planned on talking about tonight."
Tentatively, Natomi reached out and put a hand on Priss's shoulder, ready to take it away quickly if it proved unwanted. But when it didn't, she said, "I'm sorry…Priss, wasn't it? I didn't mean to dredge up a bunch of bad memories for you. But I know what it's like to loose someone you care for. My husband, Toshiro, he- well, he was a cop too, and- he died, a little over a year ago. He was just doing his job, trying to help someone who needed it, and- and he didn't make it. And all I can remember, really, is little Maiume, she- she was only a year and a half old, and she could only say a few words, but 'Daddy' was one of them. And she just kept standing there by the door like she did every night, saying, 'Daddy? Daddy?', waiting for him to come home. Except I knew he wasn't coming home, not ever. But how could I make her understand that? I-!"
Priss looked up, and, seeing the tears forming in Natomi's eyes, motioned for her to sit down next to her. Putting a hand over hers, Priss said slowly, "Yeah, I've been there. I lost my boyfriend a few years back, a damned corporate hit of some kind, though hell only knows why. And that's why I can't stand most cops. The police didn't do a damned thing about it. Just swept it under the rug. How the hell's that for serve and protect?"
Natomi just shook her head and said, "Unfortunately, I can believe it. The damned corps have us by the balls. Most cops don't want to admit that, but anybody can see it's true."
"Huh! You're the first one I've heard say it," Priss said. "So how the hell do you deal with that? Doesn't it just chap your ass to know that those bastards are pulling the strings?"
"It's not like I have much choice," 'Kiko said sullenly. "I can't just resign like a normal cop. Hell, as the chief was so kind as to point out tonight, legally I'm just a piece of police hardware. I'm surprised he didn't have Hall over there just sign for me like a sidearm or something. He even compared me to a damn cleaning boomer, for Christ's sake."
"You've gotta be friggin' kidding," Priss said incredulously. "He said that shit to your face?"
She shook her head and said, "Oh, hell no. Just ask your friend Nene over there about our brand new chief of police. Direct confrontation just isn't in his nature. But boardroom politics and back-stabbing certainly are. I just happened to overhear a conversation that I wasn't supposed to, that's all."
"God-damn," Priss said slowly, shaking her head. "Y'know, if I had to put up with shit like that, I'd loose my mind. If I couldn't do anything else, I'd probably just blow up."
"Well," 'Kiko said mildly, "that's the heart of the matter, now isn't it? That's exactly what the powers-that-be are afraid of. And after what happened with the last Police Cyborg, who can blame them? If you want a first hand account, ask Hall. He was there. So was McNichol, and I think he's a regular here, isn't he?"
"McNichol!" Priss said indignantly. "Yeah, I can't seem to keep that bastard away! In fact..."
As the conversation between Priss and Akiko continued and deepened, Hall and Nene just looked at each other in bewilderment. "Well, what the hell do you make of that?" Hall said slowly.
Nene just shook her head, and said, "Beats me. But Priss is like that, I guess. Sometimes she just takes to somebody. Usually the last person you'd expect her to."
Cocking his head slightly, Hall said, "Like you, Romanova?"
Starting slightly, Nene said quickly, "Uh, well, yeah, I guess so. We just sort of, er, met, through mutual friends, and, um, hit it off. And I've been coming down here ever since. You can ask Leon, he's seen me here before."
"Huh!" Hall said neutrally, recognizing a tap dance when he heard it. "Well that's pretty cool, I guess. Wouldn't of figured that you and her would have too many friends in common. I'm pretty sure that she runs with a totally different crowd than you do."
"Uh, well, we shop at the same lingerie store," she replied, trying to inject just enough of the truth to make things plausible. "We both know some people there, and they dragged me down here and introduced us. Things just kind of, uh, took off from there."
Hall nodded slowly, and said in a skeptical tone, "Makes sense I suppose. At least as much sense as those two hitting it off."
Nene laughed a little nervously, but before she could formulate a reply, she noticed one of Priss's band members approaching the table. He tapped Priss on the shoulder, interrupting the still ongoing conversation, and said, "Hey, Priss! You plan on sitting out the next set? We're already fifteen minutes late, and the old man's gettin' pissed!"
Priss rolled her eyes and said, "Ah, screw him! We already had it out once, and he ended up begging us to come back." Then, with a resigned sigh, she said, "But I guess if he's got his boxers in a wad, we might as well do it. Maybe he'll shut the hell up then."
Looking back to Natomi, Priss said, "Sorry, work calls. You two gonna hang here, or grab another table?"
"Another table?" Natomi said jokingly. "Where the hell do you see another table free in here? You've got the house packed tonight. If it's ok with Nene, I think we'll stay here."
Priss nodded, and, looking pointedly at Nene said, "Oh, I'm sure it's ok. Right, Nene?"
Seeing Priss's expression, Nene just nodded, and replied, "Uh, sure. I guess."
Priss smiled, and, standing, said, "Good answer." Then, turning toward the stage, she added quickly over her shoulder, "Be back in a few!"
The show was every bit as good as Hall had promised it would be, and 'Kiko could see now why he and McNichol frequented the place. Normally more a fan of classical and old, old, big band tunes, 'Kiko found herself actually getting into Priss's driving, retro J-pop style. There was an intensity of emotion behind her music that took hold of Natomi and really made her feel what Priss had obviously felt when she'd written it. It was almost as if the music were opening a small window into the singer's soul, and Natomi felt privileged to be allowed this glimpse inside. She only wished that she had an outlet like Priss's for what was locked up inside of her.
As the show went on, her attention remained, for the most part, riveted on the stage like everyone else's. But, her cop instincts as deeply ingrained as any good officer's, she did glance around every so often, and scoped out every new arrival thoroughly as they came through the door. And, in her case, 'thoroughly' meant quite a bit more than it did for most cops.
And so it was, while idly checking out a tall, well dressed, red-headed woman who'd just come through the front door, Natomi noticed something odd. Everything looked normal enough in visible and infrared, but when she pinged the woman with one of her active systems, anomalies started to show up. She returned a much 'darker' radar shadow than she should have, indicating that her body was significantly denser than a human one should have been. Not only that, but, as the split-second radar pulse had hit her, the woman seemed to hesitate briefly, almost as if she were aware of it. Frowning, 'Kiko focused a bit more of her attention on the new arrival, hitting her with a full scan.
The woman cocked her head to the side quizzically then, looking around the crowd a bit suspiciously. As a wire-frame model of the woman rapidly built up in 'Kiko's mind's eye, she began to get a clearer picture of what was up. Tensing, she bent close to Hall and whispered loudly in his ear, "Hey! Heads up, partner! We got a live one, coming in the door."
Frowning, he said, "What, the red head? What's the deal?"
"33C if I have her pegged right. Better than a ninety-nine percent match on all the points of identification stored in my recognize friend/foe database. And I don't see an owner anywhere nearby, do you?"
"No," Hall said slowly, "I don't. So what've you got in mind, 'Kiko?"
"Huh!" She said, frowning. "That's my line, isn't it? You're the one in charge, remember?"
Hall rolled his eyes, and said, "Yeah, I remember. And you know as well as I do that's bullshit. If something's up your alley, I'm gonna defer to you. And I expect the same in return, of course."
'Kiko nodded, and, with a small smile, said, "I doubt the chief would like that much, but I'm glad to hear it. And as for our little razor doll over there, well… I'm not sure, but I think she made me. Or if not, she sure as hell knows something's up. I'm sure she caught the scan I did. Regardless, I'm damn sure going to keep an eye on her, and I'd like to get a little closer too. That work for you, partner?"
Hall nodded slowly, and said, "Sounds good. I'll overwatch from here, and if you think something's about to kick off, just show me a thumbs up. If I see that, I'll start moving in your direction."
Sliding her chair back slowly, 'Kiko stood and said, "Sounds like a plan." With that, she made her way into the crowd, working her way slowly closer to the possibly wary boomer.
After over five months abroad, Jillian was glad to be back in Mega Tokyo. Europe had been spectacular, and the States had definitely been worth seeing, but in the end, Japan was home. And Mega Tokyo especially, for if home was indeed where the heart was, hers was here, left in the care of a certain precocious nine-year-old girl. And while Jillian could hardly wait to see little Aiko again, she knew that such things couldn't be rushed. Especially for someone in her rather unique position.
So, while she was watching and waiting to make sure that the things she'd left to avoid had really cooled down, she'd decided to take a good look at some of the parts of Mega Tokyo that she was less than familiar with. Not the Canyons or the Outer District, mind you. She'd made forays into those areas in the past on very specific missions, and had little desire to go back unless she had to. But there were some interesting places in that general direction, and her curiosity had been piqued by a particular flyer she'd happened across. After having both read Phillip K. Dick's 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep', and seen the big screen version of the story, entitled 'Blade Runner', she couldn't resist the opportunity to check out a band that called itself 'Priss and the Replicants'.
The club that hosted them, 'Hot Legs', the flyer said, turned out to be not too hard to find. It looked just a bit dilapidated to her as she descended the stairs toward it's basement entrance, but she took that with a grain of salt. The Net search she'd run on the way over had revealed that the place had a sterling reputation with the underground crowd, and was haled by some as one of the city's best kept night-life secrets.
She stopped to survey the sea of humanity that filled the club as she came in the door, and as she did so she momentarily had an odd sensation. Her factory upgraded internal coms picked up just a split-second pulse on a high microwave band, a region of the spectrum that most androids of her type were incapable of sensing. A band, she knew, that was used by, among other things, military-grade radar systems.
Jillian stood near the door for a moment longer, considering, and then was hit by the same sensation once more, only much stronger this time. She cocked her head just slightly as she surveyed the crowd, trying to figure out who or what was giving her the once over. But the radar scan only lasted for a little over a second, and that just wasn't enough time to narrow it down. She seriously considered just turning on her heel and walking out then and there, but she thought that might not be such a good idea. Not only would it confirm a number of things for whoever had just scanned her, but it would leave her alone and vulnerable outside as well. Better, for now at least, to stay with the crowd, she thought. And she only hoped no one would want to start any real trouble in a venue this public.
As Akiko came slowly closer to her quarry, she took the opportunity to zoom in and capture a better image of her face. Having done that, she momentarily dove into her encrypted link to the ADP's secure server, which, while always active, had been running in the background until now. Taking the image, she subjected it to her powerful onboard facial recognition software, breaking it down to it's basic points of identification. She then fed this to ANDY 2000, the ADP's mainframe, and let it chew on the data for a few microseconds. In almost no time at all, she had a return.
'Huh!' She thought as she reviewed ANDY's findings. 'The Asakawa case. Damn, I remember that one. And yeah, I can see it. Change the hair from red to blonde, and the eyes from green to that funky violet, and you've got a perfect match for the photo on her factory paperwork. And McNichol thought she never made it out of the sewers. Well, won't old Leon be surprised…'
Jillian continued to scan the crowd as surreptitiously as she could, trying to get some idea of who out there might be after her. At first, she didn't see anyone who really stood out, or, more precisely, no one who stood out more than anyone else in a crowd this eclectic. But, eventually, she began to notice that a small, dark-haired, casually dressed oriental woman slowly seemed to be drifting in her direction, against the flow of the crowd.
Narrowing her attention on this person, it became almost immediately obvious that she was the one. For one thing, she practically glowed in the radio and microwave bands, though whatever data she was transmitting or receiving was so tightly encrypted as to be no more than noise to Jillian. For another, when Jillian shifted to thermal imaging, the woman looked like nothing she'd ever seen before. In most ways, she was very near to human, but there were marked anomalies. By the same token, she didn't look like any boomer that Jillian was familiar with either. And, on top of everything else, Jillian had the feeling that she'd seen the woman's face somewhere before.
Free associating for a moment, Jillian ran a lightening search of her eidetic memory, and quickly came up with a result she didn't like. Seeing an amalgam of a great many news broadcasts and newspaper articles in her mind's eye, she thought, 'SGT Akiko Natomi. The ADP's new Mark II Anti-Boomer Battle Cyborg.' And then, sardonically, 'What, exactly, are the odds of meeting her here tonight? If there really is a higher power, I wonder what, exactly, I've done to irritate him or her so thoroughly.'
Judging by the unwavering stare directed at her, it was only obvious to 'Kiko that the boomer had indeed made her. That being the case, she decided to throw caution to the winds.
Leaving behind her pretense of drifting with the crowd, 'Kiko met the red-head's steady gaze and quickly made her way over. She stopped less than an arm's length away, and, looking up at the slightly taller woman, said, "Jillian, right? Fancy meeting you here. Aren't you supposed to dead? Or maybe I should say 'rendered non-functional' instead."
Jillian cocked her head slightly, and said, "I think I prefer the term 'dead', Officer Natomi," and then, "And I did come very close, for what it's worth. I just happened to get lucky, I suppose you'd say."
"Huh!" Natomi said. "Well, at least it looks like there's no need for introductions. Now, do you feel like doing this the easy way or the hard way? I don't really care, personally."
Frowning, Jillian said, "Do what, exactly, Officer Natomi?"
Shaking her head slowly, 'Kiko said, "Come with me, of course. Do I have to spell this out for you? You've got the legal database that goes with the upgraded security package, right? So you tell me."
Jillian sighed, and said in a small voice, "From a legal standpoint, I'm currently an unlicensed and un-owned cyberdroid. My former owner is deceased, and no one else has claimed ownership, due to the fact that I was presumed destroyed. And, also-"
"Also," Akiko interrupted, "According to Investigator McNichol's report, which I'm damn sure Corporal Romanova ghost-wrote for him, you'd 'developed significant behavioral anomalies indicative of probable AI degradation and/or corruption.' In other words, you were going rogue."
"Officer Natomi," Jillian said in a tight voice, "Did that report go on to describe those 'behavioral anomalies'? Did it mention that the sum total of my so-called insanity was my love for a little girl and the desire to protect her even at the cost of my own life? Or did those details get lost somewhere in the shuffle?"
Natomi sighed, and said, "No, as a matter of fact, they didn't. McNichol or Romanova, or whoever actually wrote the damn report was pretty clear about that. But the conclusion, backed up by the boomer psychologist after the fact, was pretty damned clear too, and I quote: 'Despite the positive nature of the emotions displayed by the BU-33C, behavior of this type clearly lies outside the design parameters of the model in question. Therefore, this leaves no other conclusion than that something had gone seriously wrong with the cyberdroid's AI. Given the inherent unpredictability of damaged cyberdroids, the possibility that far more serious and violent behavioral problems would have developed if the BU-33C had continued to function cannot be ruled out.' End quote. Not much else to say, now is there?"
"So that's it then?" Jillian said in a sullen tone. "You're simply going to impound me for destruction? Or would you prefer a summary execution here on the spot? If you're wondering, I won't put up a fight. I don't want to see anyone here hurt any more than you do, whether you believe that or not."
'Kiko sighed, and said, "As a matter of fact, I do believe it. But it doesn't change anything. If I let you walk out of here and somebody ended up hurt or dead because of that down the road, who's fault would it be? I'll be damned if I'll let that happen."
As Jillian was formulating a reply for this, there was a crash outside the front door of the club loud enough to be heard over Priss's wrap-up encore of 'Konya Wa Hurricane'. The band and the crowd abruptly fell silent, and all eyes turned toward the club's entrance, just in time to see the front door and doorframe practically explode inwards.
Everyone remained silent for a moment more, shocked, as they beheld the hulking, brown, metallic figure that filled the ragged hole that now marked the club's entrance. They stared in horrified fascination as it slowly cocked it's oblong, t-shaped head from side to side, apparently surveying the target rich environment in front of it. And then, as it slowly raised the massive 20mm auto-cannon that stood in place of it's right forearm, the screaming began.
Well, that's it for today's installment, and how's that for a cliffhanger? Hopefully your interest is piqued, because chapter 4, 'Death, Life, and Questions' will be coming soon.
