"What a mess." Leon kicked the chunk of carbonized ceramic that had been part of a heat shield. Off in the distance he could see USDF helicopters heading his way. He probably only had another half hour before they booted him from the site. Japanese bureaucracies were all the same; no one would want to kick an ADP detective out of the area on their own say-so. Until they could contact higher authority they'd just ignore him. Leon walked out to the edge of the burn zone. Someone had been in there. A trail of tracks led through the burned undergrowth that a rookie could have followed. Leon clicked another picture. He'd almost forgotten the evidence camera when he'd left the copter. Daley had always been the one… Savagely he shook off the thought.
So what do we have here? The scuffed tracks showed three women or lightweight men crash a GENAROS shuttle. All three are shook up by the crash and one is possibly injured. Scuff and drag marks show where one of the three sometimes had to lean against another for support. NOW it began to get weird. Soon AFTER they left a heavy truck shows up and pulls next to the shuttle. It leaves a few tons heavier than it arrived. So it was a safe bet that whoever it was took the cargo. Two pairs of 10cm deep footprints implied that they probably used boomers to offload what ever it was. That they got here so quick means that they knew in advance approximately where the shuttle would land. But there was no evidence that the three crew of the shuttle had anything to do with the thieves. Leon took a long drag on his cigarette. Whatever the cargo was, he'd bet his pension it wasn't on the official manifest for this flight. He'd have to try digging into the database to find out what he could. The detective frowned. He was more of a field man… Daley used to do the electronic legwork. If Nene were still around she'd be able to get the information in a heartbeat. Hmm… A smile spread over the detectives face. Maybe things weren't going to be so difficult after all.
Matter Over Mind Productions
Presents
Mega-Tokyo 2032
The Knight Sabers
"A Certain Point of View."
Chapter 8 "Unlikely Allies"
Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman
Steam filled the tile-lined room as near boiling water poured from the heater into the powder-gray, fiberglass Jacuzzi. Carefully, Linna placed her glass of wine within easy reach of the tub. Tossing her sweaty clothes into the hamper beside the door, she stripped and slowly lowered herself through the thin layer of mist covering the steaming water. Finally, immersed to the tops of her breasts, she relaxed back into the heat. Avoiding the too hot faucet, she twisted the handle that cut the flow of water into the tub. What a day! Dealing with Keith had been only the start. The bastard had undone days of work in a moment. The sudden awe that her Hou Bang students were displaying was making her nervous and it showed in her teaching. Finally, towards the end of class she'd managed to achieve a sense of equilibrium just in time to field a call from an Irene on the warpath. Obviously the method of Keith's removal from her school had not gone unnoticed.
Linna closed her eyes and relaxed a bit deeper into the near scalding water as she replayed the conversation in her mind. Truthfully she'd been a bit disturbed by her friend's newfound bloodthirstiness. Talking her out of killing Keith had taken a bit of work. Irene had eventually agreed to leave the former instructor alone. Though she'd said she hoped Linna wouldn't regret it.
Languidly the dancer sipped at her glass of wine. She hoped she wouldn't regret it too. If he showed up again she'd have to kill him herself. She didn't really like the idea; but Keith was too dangerous to take a chance with twice. Shoving the disturbing thoughts from her mind she allowed the hot water to soak away her tensions and lull her into near sleep.
Half an hour later she regretfully set down her empty wineglass. Sighing deeply, the lithe woman slipped briefly under the water. There were times when she wished she could just sit on the bottom forever. Water streaming from her body, she lifted herself free of the tub and dried off. A few stubborn drops of water still clinging to her slim body, she drained the tub and made her way to bed. With hands still damp despite the towel the sleepy Knight Saber lifted the tightly tucked black silk sheets free from the mattress. Moving quickly to conserve the warmth from the tub she slid naked under the covers, and enjoyed the exquisite sensation of silk on her heated, bare skin. With a final almost somnambulant motion she pulled the old fashion chain on her antique bedside lamp and fell almost instantly asleep.
Across the street, a casually dressed man in a darkened room nodded, put down his thermograph binoculars and made a note on his pad. Unless someone had snuck in under his nose she was sleeping alone tonight and probably wouldn't be up until tomorrow morning. Cupping his hands to block the brief flare of light he struck a cigarette and maintained his vigilance. He'd been pulled from a low priority assignment on the other end of the city to keep an eye on this woman and he meant to give it his best. As he knew from experience, Keith wasn't a very forgiving man. His fingers moved idly to the scar his old partner had left on his jaw. No. Not forgiving at all.
Balancing a tray of sandwiches in one hand and a pair of Cokes in the other, Nene opened the door to the sauna. Like an olfactory nightmare the smell of scorched electronics and ozone assaulted her nose. Picking her way carefully across the debris strewn floor, the redhead swept a small section of the worktable clean and set down the food. Hand on hips her green eyes surveyed the devastation. What a mess! Clusters of burned out components and hard used testing gear huddled together as if for mutual protection. Two of the big control computers were fully reassembled with their status lights glowing a confident green. From the third a set of filthy tennis shoes attached to equally filthy pants stretched into the room. It was probably just as well that she had worn jeans today. Anything brought into this room was going to acquire a patina of dirt whether it wanted one or not. Moving with the care of a soldier in a minefield, Nene made her way to the dismembered machine.
A low, familiar, droning noise echoed faintly from inside the machine causing a fond smile to curl across her lips. She wasn't terribly surprised. Mackie had been so sweet last night. She'd been more than a little surprised and pleased at his tenderness. He'd blushed so cutely. Sighing, she reached down and shook his foot.
"Mackie."
Her only response was a slight change in pitch of his snoring. She frowned and shook him a bit harder.
"Mackie."
The exhausted teen rolled slightly to one side before the confines of the cabinet forced him back to his original position.
"MACKIE!"
With a start, the junior member of the Knight Sabers woke and tried to sit up only to find he couldn't. Something had hold of his shirt. Reaching like a contortionist he freed himself from the errant wiring harness attempting to form a Borg-like connection with his skin and T-shirt. Mackie looked up from the tangle of electronics that had formerly been a control system to see Nene smiling at him. Sleepily he returned the grin.
"Morning Nene."
Moving with care he disentangled himself from his electronic nest.
Nene reached down and helped her young love to his feet. "Morning to you to Mackie-chan. Except that it's afternoon. Hungry?" she asked as she kissed his cheek.
Mackie ran a hand through his hair dislodging a burnt out chip. "Ravenous." He started moving towards the food.
Nene inspected the third machine while Sylia's brother demolished the sandwiches. "How far did you get?"
Mackie ceased eating long enough to answer. "Almost finished. The Hou Bang had the parts express delivered. He waved a tuna sandwich at the last broken machine. With a bit more work I can assemble the last control computer."
Nene put her hands on her hips and stared hard at her lover. "Well it's going to have to wait until later. I think you need a bit more sleep." She looked at him slyly. "I could use a nap too."
Mackie looked around at the mostly reassembled machine, torn between his hormones and a technophiles dislike for leaving a job half-done. To his surprise, if not Nenes, the hormones won.
The spring sun beat down upon the abandoned road. Once it had been the lifeline for a small town outside of Tokyo. After the quake traffic had slowed and eventually stopped. The highway hadn't been abandoned for long though. Bosozoku, hotrodders and thrill seekers had found and claimed the isolated stretch of asphalt as their own. As long as no civilians were hurt the local police turned a blind eye to the ethanol and gasoline addicted racers that used the isolated stretch as a speedway. Nevertheless there were days when even this traffic disappeared leaving only the summer sound of cicadas in the air.
A mother fox with her kits carefully checked the silent road. It seemed empty enough. The familiar sound of gas guzzling motors was as absent as she'd hoped it would be. Turning towards her kits she urged them across. This was no place to hang around. A loud hum caused her red furred head to jerk around. She turned just in time for the shadow of a motorbike to pass over her, the speed-blurred wheels flashing overhead before she could even react to their presence. Shaking from delayed reaction she hurriedly led her children across the road.
Chaz spared a glance into his rear-view mirror and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd barely registered their presence in time. Without Newtons direct control over the bike shocks and smart-wheels he never would have managed to avoid them.
"Faster!" came the triumphant voice from behind. Priss, reveling in the unbridled acceleration, hadn't even noticed the near miss.
Grimly, Chaz obliged. The speedometer crept up another couple kilometers per hour and leveled out again. He was beginning to worry. Priss wasn't wearing a hardsuit and a fall at this speed would undoubtedly kill her. Would probably mess him up a bit too, but HE'D get better.
Priss had been introduced to 'Speed Road' during her time with the motorcycle gang and had never quite gotten the urge for unrestrained acceleration out of her soul. The empty stretches of broken highway in the city were fine for easing the withdrawal symptoms but they didn't have enough space to really build up speed. The fiery singer gave another whoop of joy as the bike hit one of the slight rises in the road and launched itself into the air again. She glanced over Chaz's shoulder at the speedometer. "C'mon Chaz the bike has at least a couple more KPH in it!" she shouted above the wind.
Hoping to God that nothing showed up to block their progress, Chaz turned the throttle the last few degrees. The bikes motor became even more audible as it moved to its top speed. Winds of hurricane force whipped over and around the tightly crouched pair trying to pull them from the black speed machine. Despite the padding and muffling effects of the helmets they wore the noise was deafening. Without the mikes built into the helmets talking would have been impossible. Chaz eyed the gauges.
/Well/ asked Newton.
-It looks fine to me. How you handling your end?-
/Pretty well. The integration's almost perfect. We're carrying double so we're not quite making our top speed. I think if it was just us I could force another ten KPH out of the dumb beast./
-Do you think the upgrades were worth it?-
/Priss seems to./
He had no quick reply for that. Behind him the auburn hared speed freak let out another war whoop and urged him on.
Heads carefully covered by ponchos, the three rogue sexaroids continued moving through the rain filled darkness of the canyon. Moving cautiously they had managed to get from the forest to the city without being caught. Fingering her improvised rain gear and ill-fitting clothing Anri tried not to remember how they had come by them. Despite how they had been treated in GENAROS the sensitive woman didn't believe that all humans were inherently bad. Her eyes leaked a few tears as she tried not to remember the faces of the camping couple that had tried to help them.
Meg turned towards her. "Anri, you're going to have to move faster," she said with a note of exasperation in her voice. "We've got to get deeper into the canyon so no one will find us." As they passed underneath a flickering streetlight her eyes caught the sparkle of tear tracks on Anri's face. A wave of irritation washed over her. "Are you still moping over those two dumb humans?" she asked with asperity. "When are you going to get it through your thick skull that it's us against them?"
Anri just shook her head. "Sylvie didn't believe that." She said softly.
Nam stepped next to Anri and put an arm around the sexaroids shoulder. "I know. But Sylvie's gone Anri. Maybe if she were here we could have spared those two. Maybe they aren't all bad. Until we can find some to trust though all we can count on is each other."
Anri nodded vaguely and tried to move a bit faster. Alone in her misery she pulled up images of her and Sylvie in happier times. The first time they met. Spending time together while their owners partied. Even those days were preferable to being on GENAROS. If it hadn't been for Sylvie, she would have gone mad as so many of their sisters had. Never designed for that sort of work and environment those with less mental flexibility had simply gone insane. Anri shoved the disturbing memory aside and clutched mentally at the picture of their first time together. It had been so beautiful. Not the thrusting pawing of Kaufman and Wayne but a gentle union. Holding tight to the mental picture she trudged on.
Oblivious to Anri's thoughts, Meg continued to lead the way. Across her beautiful face resentment and anger gathered like the clouds above them. Why couldn't they see? Humans were a plague upon the earth. She'd been around before their banishment to GERAROS. Three years in a whorehouse in Mega-Tokyo had taught her more than enough about humanity. Those two in the forest were more of the same. Selfish grabbing animals whose only redeeming trait was the creation of their successors. She'd cheerfully kill all the hairless apes that came within reach. Snarling internally she continued the march into the canyon.
Standing high above the three retreating sexaroids, a shadowy figure eyed them hungrily. Even from this range he'd heard their argument easily and he could guess at their mental states. To think that three fully free sexaroids had landed in the same ship that had brought his new toy was marvelous. God himself was giving him a sign he was sure. Any one of them would be perfect for what he had in mind. All he had to do was test and condition them a bit. The best one for the job would become obvious with time. Signaling an underling to keep a careful watch on the trio, he withdrew to put his plans into motion.
Moonlight bounced off the mirrored armor-glass of the Hou Bang headquarters. Sitting in the chairman's office at the top of the tower Irene was still working feverishly with no end to the work in sight. Her beige jacket was draped over her high-backed leather chair and her immaculate white frilled shirt was opened at collar and neck. A silver coffee service and sandwich tray sat, discarded to the left of her desk bearing mute testimony to her dedication. Scribbling her signature on the electronic pad she sent yet another approved proposal into her electronic outfile. Her eyes searched her desk and document table. Reshuffling the pages she checked her in basket and then her computer files. Damn. It wasn't here. Fingers moving a tad awkwardly she touched a space on the com-pad.
"Miranda, I need to see the figures on the GENOM contract payoff in Mexico."
"Yes Miss Chang it'll be in your desk in a minute."
"Any word yet on the proposal we sent over to the Chinese?"
Moving around from his place to the side of her desk Kou poured them both another cup of coffee. It looked like another long night for the both of them and they'd need the caffeine.
"Robert is still working on that. He should be calling in soon."
"Thank you Miranda."
Tapping the disconnect switch, Irene reached out to grip her coffee mug. "Kou, help me out. The information coming in is getting out of hand and I need to straighten my thoughts."
Kou sipped his coffee and nodded. "Where do you want to start?" Ambling back to his place by the door he sat and waited.
Irene ran a hand through her brown hair and sat back in her leather chair. "Let's start at the source of the problem." Sipping her coffee she readied her thoughts. "GENOM has paid off the non-conformance clauses on over forty military contracts in seven countries in the past two days." She checked her console absently. "Doing it cost them over a trillion Yen in penalties not to mention the lost revenue. We've managed to pickup about 75 percent of those contracts including the base construction contract in the Sudan."
Kou nodded his head at the reminder. Quincy had fought them tooth and nail to get that contract for GENOM. It said something that he was paying good… VERY good money to get out of it. What was infuriating was that they couldn't figure out WHAT it was saying.
Irene shook her head. "I just can't believe how many pies that man has his finger in. I'd almost be willing to swear that he has been personally responsible for keeping the Polar war going."
Kou seemed to sag back into the chair without really doing so. "Don't you think that's being a little paranoid?"
Feminine eyes, no less steely for all their beauty, locked onto her subordinate. "You think so? After years of covert actions against each other all sides in the polar war suddenly seem to be on their way to an amicable settlement. I'd almost believe that if it anyone but CHINA who'd started the peace process. They've said for years that they would fight to the end to protect their investment. The sudden turn around seems entirely too well timed; particularly since they were winning."
Kou thought for a moment. "I agree it seems a little convenient but why suspect that Quincy had something to do with it?"
She reached over and hefted a series of folders. "The munitions contracts pointed the way. I very much doubt that either side ever managed to see the contracts that the other side was signing otherwise they'd have spotted it years ago." With a muffled 'thump' she dropped the heavy stack back onto the desk. "We got copies of the old GENOM contracts to use as basis for our new bids when GENOM pulled out. To anyone that has both contracts in hand and really looks at the numbers it becomes obvious that Quincy didn't want either side to win that conflict."
"Shouldn't someone have noticed before now?" Kou asked, playing devils advocate.
Irene shrugged. "Without the contracts it wouldn't have been that obvious. On one side he was selling quality. The United States and its allies have always been suckers for the latest and greatest. The contracts state terms for next generation AIs and state of the art munitions. On the other side he pushed quantity; C-55s by the gross at prices that the Asian block couldn't turn down. Chinas self-image as the worlds most populous country made it easy. I imagine there was a computer somewhere keeping very careful track of the total forces involved and making estimates of future expenditures."
Kou frowned. "All that shows is that Quincy knew how to sell to the different markets."
Irene smiled like a cat getting ready to pounce. "True, until you check the history of the conflict against the contracts. GENOMs high turnover rate and their system improvements are the cornerstones of their reputation. By selling and shipping products as fast as they come off the line they managed to put themselves at the fore of almost every industry. It caught up to them here though. Old style munitions contracts called for year long development times and abstract delivery dates."
Kou nodded knowingly. "Like the one in the U.S. munitions scandal of 2005. Those companies had been bilking the U.S. for years by delaying development until the last minute."
"Right. That was why GENOM replaced them so easily. The trouble for them was since their reputation depended upon concrete delivery times they had to do more than just project needs in advance." She paused for a second. "Do you remember the battle of New Shanghai?"
Even for a history buff like Kou that was a tough one. With a bit of mental gear grinding he came up with the referent. "Umm… Is that the one that the Chinese hailed as being the turning point in the war?"
She nodded. "Yup. That's the one. A series of battles went well and moved the main American contingent of the Neo-NATO forces to within a stones throw of the main Chinese base. If they had managed to take it they could have put the Chinese out of the conflict once and for all. All of their intelligence said that the Chinese didn't have the reserves to stop them. But when the attack arrived the Chinese unveiled a squadron of DB-88s on the field that not only withstood the assault but also forced the invading army out of the area." She grimaced. "Lucky for GENOM both armies were decimated in the process. It was called the worst intelligence fiasco of the decade."
Kou frowned. "So what really happened?"
She nodded to the contracts. "Those told a much different story. It seemed that about two months before the battle GENOM drastically lowered their prices on the DB-88 series of boomer based missile launchers on condition that their delivery be postponed an extra week. The Chinese, already in desperate straights bought as many as they could and set a delivery date. Just before the battle GENOM delivered the boomers to the defenders precisely on time. If they had delivered earlier Neo-NATO would have aborted. Any later and the Chinese would have been pushed from the playing field. This pattern repeats over and over. Each time it looked like one side or the other was about to win there would be a sudden reversal and the conflict would even out again. Those contracts tell why. GENOM knew, probably to the bullet, exactly how much to sell and when to sell it. Either indirectly or directly they controlled the course of the entire war."
Kou got up and poured the last of the coffee into Irenes cup. Turning to the machine he started a fresh pot brewing. "So why did they stop now?"
Irene bit her knuckle and stared out into the night sky. "I don't know. That's what worries me."
Wearing a white smock and hanging from a complicated support structure Sylia gazed down into the open back of the man before her. After several hours of hard work she'd managed to repair about fifty percent of the damage Fargo had taken. Some of the damage could be fixed by his rudimentary self-repair system but some parts simply had to be replaced. Luckily many of the components could be replaced off the shelf by using boomer parts. Reaching over to the surgical tray she used a small piece of gauze to remove the small drops of perspiration from her forehead. "Okay. I'm going to reattach the feedback circuit now. Let me know if it hurts."
Fargo, lying half-naked and face down on the operating table grunted noncommittally.
Sylia, careful to keep as much strain off her injured back as possible, leaned forward into her support harness and finished making the delicate attachment. "How's that?"
The former orangutan concentrated for a moment. "Still not getting anything. There must be a break higher up that we're missing."
Gingerly the leader of the Knight Sabers sat back in her powered wheel chair. It had taken a lot of arguing before Chaz had agreed to let her out of bed. The over-protective boomeroid was getting almost paranoid where her safety was concerned. Wincing slightly as the Nu-skin pulled against raw nerves, she settled into position. "As much as I hate to do it I think we're going to have to finish up tomorrow. My hands are getting cramped and I'm afraid I'm going to make a mistake." Sylia pushed back and over to the med-center control. With a few quick commands she directed the complex computer to close and seal the incisions.
Fargo nodded. He couldn't really complain. Sylia had worked on him steadily for over ten hours and as a result he was a lot better off now than he'd been yesterday. Waiting patiently until the system finished, he sat up. Carefully he swung his arms around in a slow circular movement. A smile grew as he flexed his new arms. "Sylia you've wasted your talents. You should have been a cyber-surgeon." Hopping off the table he flexed his legs in a deep knee bend. "I've paid top prices for work that wasn't this smooth."
Sylia sighed and pulled off her hairnet. "Thanks." She said dryly, "But I think I'll keep the job I have." Massaging her hands she tried to work the cramps out of them. "It's less stressful."
"You know I didn't mean it," he said softly, taking her hands and massaging them.
Sylia smiled and gently gripped his hands. Almost reluctantly she pulled her hands back. "I know." Pushing forward on the joystick Sylia sent her chair heading out of the room. At the door she turned to face Fargo. Almost against her will a sly smile spread across her face. "Well, are you coming or not?"
Fargo shrugged and grabbed his shirt. "Of course. Where to?"
Sylia pulled lightly at her sweat soaked whites and tried to ignore the whiff of body odor. "I need to get out of these before they're condemned and I really don't feel like getting another sponge bath from Nene."
Fargo couldn't believe his ears. "So you want me to…"
Sylia smiled brightly as she directed her chair out of the room. "Well I can hardly take a bath by myself in this condition now can I?" she said over her shoulder.
Chaz moaned in pleasurable agony, his hands tightly clutching her body. Head whirling with pleasure, the boomeroid could hardly think straight. He couldn't even remember how they started. Another wave of sensation wiped away even the possibility of asking. With every enhanced sense he felt the ongoing lovemaking. His every searching touch found creamy smooth skin. Paradisiacal scents flooded him as feminine moans echoed his own. Lips that burned their marks into his skin slowly traced a path up his chest, while indescribable sensations wracked his form. The lips formed a final track up his neck and met his. Fire like molten rock poured along his nerves as he peaked. His hands moved from the small of her back to cup her head tenderly in his own as he returned her kiss passionately. Her head dipped to lie gently against his shoulder. Slowly his eyes opened. Overhead, colored starlight blinked down on the lovers. A deep sigh slipped from his chest. That had been the best ever. Never had he felt such a complete union with anyone. Almost absently he stroked her hair across his face enjoying the feel as it slipped over his skin. A slight chill passed through him. Eyes crafted to see in even the dimmest light widened even further. With suddenness uncharacteristic in his usual lovemaking he pushed her shoulders away from him. Enhanced vision traced every line of her smiling face as her slightly curly red hair brushed his face.
"Nene!"
Shock coursed through him. How could he? How could they?
Still smiling serenely, Nene moved her lips down to kiss him again.
His arms shook with strain as he held her at bay. How did she get so strong? With a last effort of will he shoved her out to arms reach, and woke up.
Darkness, only disturbed by the soft rhythm of Priss' snoring, filled his small room. Distantly he could hear her heartbeat as a slight throbbing noise. Gently freeing his arm from its place under her head he gingerly moved towards the bathroom. Closing the door silently behind him he stepped up to the mirror. His normally good-natured face turned down in a scowl. His hand twitched briefly as an urge to smash his reflection swept him and was suppressed viciously. Even after all this time he didn't like the sweat-beaded face before him. Damn it all! It wasn't his! Grabbing a hand towel from the rack he patted his face dry.
/Newton? Do you still have my original face on record/
-Of course.-
/Restore it please./
-But-
He was in no mood to argue. It wasn't really possible to subvocalize a growl, but tone was carried well. /Now./
Hair fell into the sink as his face changed shape. Little more than half a minute passed before his old reflection gazed back at him from the darkened mirror.
Almost gingerly he touched his nose, the slight thickening where he'd broken it fighting in college six years ago. Eyes the color of a storm tossed ocean seen at dawn. It wasn't like he really forgot but somehow his old memories were growing distant. His fingers drifted down to his chin and his scowl deepened. The hand didn't match. The darkly toned skin on his hand made a marked contrast to his now pale face. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
-Chaz? You okay?-
Concentrating hard he bit back the instinctive attack to this reminder of how much he'd changed. /No. Newton, I'd just like to left alone for a while. Leave me with human normal senses and go to sleep for a while./
-Are you sure?- She asked meekly.
He sighed. These small questions were becoming more frequent. She still did as he asked of course but it wasn't the unthinking obedience he'd gotten used to.
/Yes, I'm sure./
Instantly the light in the room darkened until he could barely see. Groping blindly, he found his way to the bathtub and sat down on the edge. Fingering the taps he debated about running the water. Finally deciding against it, he rested his head in his hands.
Not bad enough he had nightmares about a leering Mason transforming him into a hideous demon of destruction. He didn't fool himself about where those were coming from. Loss of identity and the sudden change in circumstances were bound to churn up the occasional nocturnal pain-scape. This fascination his subconscious had with Nene lately was becoming a royal pain. It had almost gotten to the point where he was willing to forego dreaming altogether. Almost. A regular sleep-cycle at least gave him the illusion of a normal life. Little illusions like that were becoming important. Even when he wasn't dreaming it was all too easy to picture himself sliding into the kind of mono-mania that had engulfed Largo or going completely into a schizoid-depression like Billy Fanward. They were just the extremes of the emotions he dealt with on a daily basis. Blinding light washed his eyes startling him momentarily. Eyes, adjusting at a noticeably slower rate to the change in light, focused blearily on the worried face of Priss standing in the doorway.
Pulling the light, black silk robe closer around her, Priss stepped away from the light switch and leaned against the sink. She stifled a reaction as she caught glimpse of his changed features. This was bad. He hadn't worn that face even in private since he'd changed it. She'd almost forgotten what he'd originally looked like. "Chaz? You okay?" she asked hesitantly.
He bit back a thousand replies that would hurt her for seeing him like this and tried to remember that he loved her. "Not really."
Priss fidgeted, her fingers playing unconsciously with her auburn hair. In depth emotional discussions weren't exactly her thing and she felt more than a little uncomfortable. "Do you want to talk about it?" It wasn't the first time he'd had a nightmare. For the past few nights, though, he'd been hesitant to talk about them. Almost furtively his eyes darted to hers than away. It was almost as if he were… ashamed.
"I…Priss I…" His shoulders slumped. The change took his fear of physical pain but emotional agony still tore his heart. What was he supposed to tell her? "I can't," he finally mumbled as the shame ate at him further.
Priss's heart ached inside of her. What could be so bad that he couldn't talk to HER about it? Did he see a precipice in front of him as she sometimes did? Depression was so unlike him that it always scared her a bit when she saw him like this. She wanted to do something! The anger that was her usual defense against pain wanted to shake him and force him to tell her what was wrong. But enough of her independent soul recognized that for the bad idea it was. Sometimes things had to be worked out on your own. If anyone knew that she did. Eyes blinking back tears of frustration she stepped back to the door. "When you're ready then." Moving quickly she shut the door behind her and went back to bed. In the dark quiet of the room she curled up on her side and let the tears fall. When she was twelve, lying in the darkness of the overflowing orphanage, she'd learned to cry silently. Drop by drop the tears fell from her eyes and were quietly absorbed by the pillow. A warm arm moved under her neck to support her head as the other gently encircled her waist. If he noticed the dampness of the pillow he pretended not to. Just as she pretended not to feel the dampness in her hair and the occasional muffled sob. Sometimes it was enough just to know that someone else was there. Gripping his hand tightly in her own, she allowed herself to fall asleep again.
Deep in the heart of her private space Newton wept alone. She hadn't meant to hurt him. If she'd known this would happen she never would have done it. She'd just wanted him so badly. She hadn't seen the harm and he'd seemed to enjoy it too. Now it was all a mess. If he ever found out he'd hate her. He'd never forgive her. He might even make her go away. If he was serious enough he could do it. He couldn't get rid of her completely but he could tell her to go to sleep …forever. She wasn't even supposed to be awake now. He hadn't told her how long to sleep for so she'd set the minimum time. She'd known what he'd meant but she'd disobeyed anyway. Without her to look after him he'd slip. Sooner or later a boomer would get him and it would be all her fault. Wrapped around a fist-sized lump of pain Newton cried.
Mackie woke and stretched lazily. Smiling slightly to himself, he unwrapped Nenes arm from around his waist and headed for the bathroom. Nenes nap had turned into a cuddle-fest that had lasted most of the day. Not that he was complaining. She could cuddle with him anytime. But now that she'd fallen asleep he had to get back to work. They should be around here somewhere. Ah. Kicking aside a still damp fluffy towel, he snagged his favorite work suit. Nene had almost gagged when he'd taken off the grungy overalls. Despite their protection he'd still had a layer of grime on his skin. Smiling to himself, the teen pulled the grungy overalls back on. Personally he'd thought her reaction a bit extreme. A little dirt never hurt anybody. Moving as quietly as he could Mackie snuck out of his room and headed for his machines. With a bit of luck he should have the tank up and running again in a few hours. Whistling happily he picked up his pace.
Silver-gray hair steaming in the cold thin wind, the chairman of GENOM stepped out onto the roof of his tower. Below him he could hear a spring rain dumping its load of cold water against the side of the mammoth arcology, the individual sounds of raindrops blending into a soft susurration almost like ocean surf. Slowly his dark gray eyes moved from the city lit clouds far below to stare up at the stars overhead. Almost unwillingly he sighed. With the light from the city masked by the storm the stars lay like a sea of glittering diamond chips against black velvet of the night sky. A little darker and the sky would look like it had that night almost fifty years ago when he had another name. A young man of twenty he'd returned to his father's farm from college and wandered out into the fields to stare at the stars one last time. He'd sold the farm soon after to raise money for his first construction company.
Shaking off the nostalgia he moved his sight to the western quadrant of the sky. Somewhere up there, they were coming. Twice now telescopes had picked up their presence. Money spent on grants over the past decade had quickly silenced those astronomers. All he'd asked for was a bit of time. It wouldn't last very long but then he didn't need it to. In another day or so the ship would be close enough to see with even amateur telescopes. Shortly after that it would be close enough to see with the naked eye. By that time he should have everything done. This was probably the last calm moment he'd have to himself until it was all over. Almost two decades of work were about to come to fruition. He only hoped it would be enough. Hmp. Let Mason hear you thinking things like that and he'll… Quincy allowed himself a small smile. SHE'LL be all over you old man. Actually he was quite pleased by the changes in Mason. Death seemed to have had a calming influence on the former executive. Thinking of which, he had better go check on Mason and Madigans progress. With a final look up, he walked confidently back into the manmade mountain.
Mason looked up at the dark face of her hireling and spoke calmly into the phone. "I hired you because your reputation as the best is widely known. I've arranged you ample support and given you a blank check in your supply acquisitions. When you're off duty you and men live like emperors on vacation. All that being said, I don't want to hear about the difficulties with the assignment. Solve them. I don't care how as long as she doesn't realize you're there." She listened intently for a moment. "Then contact the research department that's what they're there for. In case you weren't clear on this I'll repeat myself. If so much as a hair on Sylia Stingrays head is harmed I will personally see to it that you see every last one of your men die horribly in front of your eyes and that you spend the rest of your life in as much pain as I can personally arrange."
Behind the sexaroid the door silently slid open to admit Quincy into the upper observation room.
Unaware of the intense scrutiny being directed as her Mason continued the conversation. "On the other hand if she remains as safe as you promised, you and your men will continue to live in the lap of luxury in addition to the more than ample compensation you're being paid."
The old man smiled. Yes, Mason had grown up a bit. The former human had always been good with the metaphorical stick now she was learning to use the carrot as well. Perhaps the change to what amounted to a woman had helped as well. The old Mason had been more action oriented and hands on. The tendency to micro-manage had been one of the young executives worst flaws. Now she operated at a remove from the operation. After exhaustive research she'd hired the best people she could find and let them do their job only stepping in when things weren't quite the way she wanted them. Quincy had long ago found this the best way to handle most problems and had been pleased to see Mason using it as well. Yes, she was coming along nicely. If he had known it would have this effect he would have had Mason killed long ago.
"No, Colonel. Leave them alone. Your only concern is Sylia herself. If her friends get in the way you'll have to find a way to work around them." Mason ran a hand though her shorn hair in exasperation. "No, you can't just kill them." She stood up suddenly. "I don't care if you don't like it. If you liked it we wouldn't have to pay you to do it. Just handle it." She broke the connection and sat back down. Leaning back in her chair, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fingers moving lightly across the keyboard the sexaroid called up multiple-angle views of the Stingray building. Almost a week she'd been watching now and the tedium was beginning to wear on her as much as it did on the Illegal Army. She'd given it a lot of thought and still wasn't sure if no news was good news. Excitement would be welcome but if anything happened to Sylia, the old man would hold her responsible. Much as she hated the old man she'd grown to respect him more than she had. She didn't want to think would happen to her if she screwed this one up. Turning her attention fully to the monitors Mason missed Quincy exiting as silently as he'd arrived.
"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Anri asked worriedly as the three rogue sexaroids slipped into the down the dark stairway and into Paradise Loop. "I thought we were just going to find an empty apartment in the canyon somewhere and wait until they got tired of looking for us."
Nams foot skidded a bit on the slimy surface and she tried not to think about what they were walking through. Humans. "She's right Meg. Besides, if the rest of the Loop is like this I'd almost rather be back on the station. This is disgusting."
Meg reached the bottom of the stair and spun. "If that's the way you feel I'm sure GENOM would be only too happy to oblige. Right after they finished having AD-Police blow you to pieces." Both friends looked at her in horror. Cursing herself, she drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean it. I miss them too. But if we want to survive we're going to have to be prepared to fight back if we need to." She turned and resumed walking through the flashlight lit gloom. "If it helps at all, the main section of the Loop is much cleaner. The people that run things down here leave the outlying entrances like this to discourage casual visitors."
They walked in silence for a while.
Nam helped Anri around a viscous oily puddle. "How do you know so much about this place anyway?"
Meg's winced as painful memories flooded her mind. How to explain the degradation and humiliation she'd suffered down here? During her down time she could still feel the places where they'd touched her. Typically, sexaroids were too expensive to be used for hired sex. Most had been made to order for the rich. Their lives, while not fantastic, had been heaven compared to hers. Her 'Mistress', she thought bitterly, had been more mercantile in her tastes. Almost fresh from the factory she'd taken her to an illegal boomer chop shop. There, surrounded by the dead bodies of obsolete or stolen boomers, they'd modified her neural-stimulator to deliver at maximum power continuously. That the procedure put a strain on her systems and left her in unending pain hadn't been a consideration. In fact, she gritted her teeth at the memory, they had considered it a bonus. It wasn't until she'd taken her back to his club that Meg understood why. One by one the men had come to her. Tied to a bed she'd been unable to struggle against them. Her mistress could have ordered her to do it or even fixed it so she'd like it and she wouldn't have struggled. But the customers wanted the full sensation of rape and the neural-stimulator kept them coming back for more.
She shook off the memory and gripped the heavy steel door by the handle. "I'd rather not talk about it," she answered sharply. With a jerk she opened the doorway into the Loop proper. At least in the end she'd had her vengeance. The strain on her system had finally caused the neural-stimulator to fail. The resulting system shock had enabled her to override her programming long enough to kill the bitch. Now, of course, she was free of all programmed constraints. When you stripped away all the bullshit that was why the 33-S series had been banished from the Earth. Any boomer with a minimum matter-fusion ability could sync with weapons systems almost as well as a 33-S. What scared the piss out of humans was that given enough time every 33-S managed to purge the programmed blocks from their systems. The grubbing hairless apes didn't want their little sex-slaves becoming free. She fingered the gun in her pocket. Well now they really had something to worry about. Stepping into the eternal neon glare of Paradise Loop, she smiled coldly. Now they'd pay.
Unnoticed by the trio a small rat-shaped shadow skittered along behind them its finally crafted sensors recording every word and gesture.
"Goddamn it! That's the fifth fucking time!" Nene swore, staring hard at the snowy screen as if she could change it by sheer force of will. Her shoulders slumped in resignation. Sighing deeply, the redheaded super-hacker rebooted her entire system and began the reinstallation of her operating system. That damn GENOM ICE (Intrusion Countermeasure Electronics) was nasty as hell. Which was one of the reasons she was doing her hacking from a flat screen instead of a VR environment. The first time she'd tried to get access, the invading viruses had overpowered her deck and damn near blinded her before she could cut the power to her goggles. She shuddered to think what a direct connection to the machine would have done. Probably would have fried her nervous system at the very least. She'd known a few hackers and net-cowboys that had wound up like that. One of the many reasons she resisted getting a neural jack. Not that the temptation didn't grab her occasionally.
The custom Ono-Sendai computer pinged as it finished installing the last of its homebrewed operating system from the flash memory backup. Nene shrugged and hit the reboot, grateful for the distraction. She'd made it this far because her programming skills were second to none. Even military grade war-ware (information warfare software) didn't hold a candle to her cracking algorithms and streamlined code, she thought proudly. Jacks were a copout. With the wire in a hacker's brain they could shave whole seconds off their reaction time. Seconds! Each tick of the clock more precious than gold during a real-time hack. And what did they do with these pearls of great price? They wasted them shoring up the weaknesses in their software!
Nene brushed an errant lock of hair out of her face and leaned back in her chair. The thing was she probably COULD'VE broken into GENOM by now if she had one. She'd been so close that last time. All she'd needed was another second or two; seconds that could have been hers for the taking if she'd been wired. THAT was the big temptation. With her 'ware and the wire she could crack anything. But one little slip and they'd be able to cook eggs on her forehead. She shuddered. She had too much too lose now.
Her eyes slowly moved over to the framed hologram of her and Mackie standing next to a completely defeated arcade simulator. She smiled at the memory. The game company advertisement hadn't been out a week. Everywhere the company could fit an ad was filled with techno-babble proclaiming the simulator the next-generation in gaming AI development. True software AI they said. Unbeatable they said. She and Mackie, the team supreme, had taken it as a challenge. Individually they could probably still have beaten it. Together they'd ripped it to pieces in slightly less than an hour leaving a sobbing gaming exec collapsed against his brand new machine in the middle of E3. Almost reluctantly, she reached over and put her deck on standby. GENOM was just going to have to wait. Knowing Mackie he'd probably worked himself to a frazzle again.
Deep in the heart of the Chicago GENOM tower, Madigan watched from the walkway as the last of the boomers stood from the transports and walked down the reinforced catwalk to the last unoccupied storage cradle. Satisfaction spread its warm glow through her as the BU-12C backed into its form fitting home. Power and bio-fluid connectors snapped firmly into place and the red eyes dimmed to their standby state.
Unattended, the last of the robotic transports wheeled itself away leaving her alone in the vast storage complex. One by one the motion detectors, sensing nothing in their area, turned off the lights until only Madigan stood in a pool of light. Reaching over to the manual override she flipped off the last light and waited for her vision to adjust. Slowly her irises opened to admit the faint light. Shining like red stars the eyes of fifty thousand combat boomers gleamed in the darkness. Ranks of C-55s, covered in their synth-flesh camouflage and human clothing, lay next to rows of BU-12Bs and the newly developed BU-12Cs.
Turning the light back on, she opened the security door walked out of the complex. Only two more towers to go and she'd be done. In the past week she'd supervised the placement and storage of over one million combat boomers around the world and still the boomer production centers were going full blast. Governments had complained of course but in the end they'd knuckled under. Madigan smiled grimly. They hadn't really had a choice. Almost against her will her eyes traveled up to darkness shrouded ceiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her attention back to the task at hand and strode resolutely towards the exit. There simply wasn't time for politicking and power games anymore and people who didn't learn that quickly enough were going to be removed from the field as quickly as she could identify them.
Leon finished typing his report and clicked on his inbox. Damn! He'd been hoping there would be something, anything even a lousy expense voucher report to rework. But only the bright green job tasking from Fujiura was left. Sighing resignedly, he clicked on the blinking icon to bring it up. What the hell was this? He re-read the tasking carefully. No mistake, the slime sucking, pinstriped, paper pusher with a bad haircut really was asking him to do this. Leon swore softly. Fujiura had reached a new low with this one. He could either deal with this quietly or complain. Given his nature there was hardly a choice involved.
With a sharp "BANG!" the door to Fujiura's office flew open and bounced off the inside wall. Striding angrily into the room, Leon dropped the printout of the tasking on his superiors vat grown maple desk.
"Just what am I supposed to do with this!" he growled.
Turning just slightly from his terminal, Fujiura glanced at the document and then turned back to his machine. "Exactly what you think you're supposed to do with it, McNichol. Take care of it. Or is it asking to much of you?"
Leon gripped his anger tightly. "You know damn well that's not the problem. Since when does a senior officer have to run downtown to pick up a delivery for ADP?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Fujiura negligently leafed through a stack of printout and handed Leon one of the sheets. "Since now. If you bothered to keep up with current events you'd have noticed the inter-department memo from the city council asking for more accountability from city services." He flipped another memo Leon's way. "Under the new directive a senior staff member from each service must take responsibility for each ordered piece of equipment. In short, Detective, the choices came down to myself, you and the five other section heads. Need I tell you why you were picked?"
Leon shook his head not trusting himself to speak.
"Good. Now get out."
Linna gripped the fabric covered handles of the pommel horse and gracefully pulled her center of mass into the air. Muscles straining only slightly, she pulled her legs up over her head so that her arms took her entire body weight. Flipping her legs down and around, she commenced her routine.
Robert Wade sat entranced on the sidelines. He'd been working intensely with her since the debacle with Keith, trying to improve enough to help her teach. But even with all the skills he'd acquired he still couldn't match her for style and technique. Hungrily his eyes devoured the performance.
Short cropped blue-black hair splayed to it's limits as the beautiful dancer/gymnasts arms and legs moved in perfect synchronization to complete the wide sweeps and spins around the body and sides of the pommel horse. Just the hint of sweat gleamed on her radiant face as she concentrated on keeping her form perfect. With a final flourish the nimble artist flipped herself into an aerial somersault and landed perfectly on the mat.
Robert came to his feet clapping. "Perfect. Any judge that would give you less than a ten for that routine is on the take."
Linna stretched out a bit as she started her cool down. "Glad you liked it. You finish your warm up?"
"Yup." He could still feel the warm sweat next to his skin. The two-mile jog had loosened him up and he hadn't been sitting long enough to cool down yet.
"Fine." She swept an errant hair back under her sweatband. "Go get your armor warmed up. Today you're going to be sparring with a friend of mine."
"Great." He loved sparring and figured he could hold his own against anyone this side of Linna.
Half an hour later he wasn't so sure of that. Robert had been in the game for a long time and had a pretty decent rep if he did say so himself. But this was beginning to be embarrassing. It wasn't just that he didn't seem able to lay a glove on the guy; it was the almost contemptuous ease with which he was being evaded. Boomeroid or no, nothing should be able to move like that!
Linna sat on the sideline and grinned. "Okay, now let him start a routine," she said into her mike.
Chaz nodded and ducked another swing. "How do you want him: over easy or scrambled?" he subvocalized.
She suppressed a grin. "Sunny side up please."
"No problem."
Unaware of the private dialogue, Robert continued the relentless assault. If could just get one good shot in. BINGO! Almost by reflex his hand, backed by the heavy powered armor, darted through the hole in the boomeroids defenses and landed a heavy blow. He relaxed slightly. Now all he had to do was follow it up and keep him off balance. With that in mind he moved in…
Chaz grinned.
Robert noticed the grin. Oh shit. Linna had warned him about this over and over again. The next few seconds passed as a complicated and painful blur until the ground slammed into him with a clang that left his ears ringing.
Linna suppressed a laugh. No matter how many times she told them they always wound up having to be shown. Well, Robert at least wouldn't need any more reminding. Standing up she wandered over to where Chaz had the powered armor pinned with its face to the ground. She casually kneeled down and flipped up the visor on the armor. "You need me to tell you what happened?"
Robert groaned and resisted the urge to try rubbing his aching back through the armor. "No. It was the follow through wasn't it?"
Linna smiled as she nodded. "Are you going to forget again?"
He managed to sit up as Chaz got off his back. "Not bloody likely."
Linna flashed a radiant smile. "Excellent. Than I think you're finally ready to start teaching."
Wrapped in a form fitting, twenty thousand yen, green silk camisole a luscious redhead spun in a tight circle and looked coquettishly over her shoulder at her audience of one.
"All Right! Now give me the smile!" shouted the photographer as he hurriedly zapped a few more images into the digital camera.
Nene obligingly tilted her head back and let a languorous smile spread across her face.
Jason thumbed the stop button on his recorder and flipped his VR goggles back up on his forehead. "Okay, babe. That's it for this shoot. Go ahead and get changed for the next one."
Immediately the sex kitten demeanor disappeared from Nene's face like it'd been turned off at a switch. It could be worse, she thought as she slid from the blanket-covered pedestal and headed for the changing room, the first photographer Sylia had hired had been a macho asshole that thought he was God's gift. Nene sighed and pulled the curtain closed. Somehow this wasn't what she'd expected when Sylia had asked her to model the Silky Dolls new line of lingerie. Three days of holding this or that pose had pretty much sapped any enthusiasm she'd ever had for this. Stripping the camisole off, she reached for the last outfit of the day. Only another hour and she could get out of here. There was a new arcade opening in Ginza that was supposed to be fabulous. With any luck Mackie would be finished with the nano-tank, so they could go out tonight. The thought of beating her paramour to an electronic pulp cheered her immensely. Yes sir, nothing like a little simulated violence to cure those blues. Donning the bustier and stockings, Nene slid the curtain aside and stepped out. Forcing a grin on her face she placed herself in front of the holographic scenery. As Jason slid his VR goggles back down and the makeup tech started touching up the few places that needed it she sighed mentally. At this point even a battle with a couple of C-55s was beginning to look good.
Leon, angrier if possible than when he'd left ADP headquarters, pulled up to the security checkpoint outside Mega-Tokyo's secure warehouse. It had taken over an hour for the seemingly endless line of trucks ahead of him to finish going through this gate and with every minute he'd felt his blood pressure rising. With a Herculean effort he reigned in his temper. ADPs reputation, not exactly sterling to begin with, didn't need the extra tarnish that unleashing his temper would undoubtedly bring. Wrapped up in his own fuming he almost missed the guard coming out to meet him. He rolled his window down, letting the cool spring air into the car. Professionally, his eyes took in the harried look and wrinkled uniform of the N-police on duty. Hmm. Either they'd let their standards slip since he'd left the force or this guy was having a worse day than he was.
The guard flipped out his pocket computer. "Excuse me sir. Can I see your ID please?"
Smiling as best he could Leon unclipped his ADP ID and handed it over. "Having a rough day?"
Not missing a beat, the guard waved the ID through the scanner with a practiced flip of the wrist. "You know it." He jerked a thumb absently over his shoulder towards the warehouse behind him. "Fifty-two trucks I've waved through here today. Warehouse manager's having a fit." He squinted at the ID. "ADP huh?"
Leon could almost feel the air turning a bit frostier. The relationship between N-police and the ADP had never been particularly warm but they usually at least made a pretense of being civil. "Yeah. Why?"
The tone turned just a bit chillier. "No reason. SIR." He handed the ID back as if it carried some dread disease. "Go on in."
Leon bit back his response, and drove in. This day was definitely not going to get better, he decided as he pulled into the parking lot. Not that there was a whole lot further down it could go.
Dodging robotic crate-haulers and utility boomers, Leon made his way deeper into the labyrinth of the warehouse. Everywhere he looked, crates were being stacked, sorted and stored. Leon's attitude softened just a bit. No wonder they couldn't make a delivery to ADP, this backlog must be soaking up every resource they had. Dodging a final crate Leon pushed his way into the warehouse office.
As impossible as it seemed it was even busier in here. People, hair frazzled and obviously tired, were hunched over their outdated terminals, their fingers pecking away industriously at their keyboards. Scattered, empty coffee cups bore mute testimony to the long hours being endured.
Leon spotted the managers desk on the other side of the room. Moving through the minefield of printout and coffee cups he worked his way into the seat in front of the desk. The burly Japanese manager, busy with a phone call, ignored him. Leon leaned back and put his boots up on the desk. Not missing a beat in his conversation the manager reached over with a muscular arm and swept the boots from the desk nearly upsetting the young detective. Finally finished with his conversation he hung up the phone and eyed the ADPs answer to Dirty Harry.
"You the guy from ADP?" Not even waiting for an answer he pointed at a large plastic crate against the wall. "If so, that's yours and I would really appreciate YOU getting YOUR shipment out of MY warehouse."
Ignoring the rudeness, Leon moved over to the side of the crate. "Where's the manifest?"
The manager's tan complexion moved a shade closer to stroke red. "God save me from imbeciles," he muttered. "That IS the manifest! You waste of space!" He waved at the crates and boxes outside the window. "Your goddamn shipment has been coming in non-stop for the past two days! I've got people working overtime, boomers overheating from long shifts," he glared at the slack jawed Lieutenant. "I even had to hire more guards to protect the damn stuff." He grinned maliciously. "Luckily for me though, the last truck rolled through the gate twenty minutes ago. So now…" He leaned back in his chair and leveled a malicious smile. "…it's your problem."
Leon looked at the crate. Then he looked at the still filling warehouse. Then he looked at the crate. Then he looked at the manager who was still giving him a nasty smile. "You're kidding right? There hasn't been a mistake?"
The manager shook his head. "Nope." Negligently, he chucked a crowbar at the detective. "If it'll help you get this garbage out of here any faster I'll even help you go over the manifest."
Leon hefted the crowbar and looked at the crate with the eyes of a ten year old on Christmas morning. "Deal."
Two hours later the detective and the manager were still wading through the paperwork.
The manager held a sheet up to the light and made a face. "You know… I've been working as a munitions and ordinance supply specialist for over twenty years now. I started as a crate shlep and worked my way up to warehouse manager. I've been to every munitions expo, in every arms producing country in the world. I've even been a contributing editor for Jane's." He waved a sheet of flimsy. "But, I still couldn't tell you what some of this stuff is."
Leon grunted.
Fanning himself with a sheaf of invoices, the manager loosened his shirt. "Some of it even looks like weapons that are still supposed to be in development." He looked over at Leon in awe. "How the hell did you get this stuff?"
The dark hared cop shrugged and kept flipping through the invoices. To be honest HE wasn't quite how the ADP had gotten the stuff either. But he'd be damned if he was going to tell the manager that. This isn't right, his mind nagged as he leafed through a couple more invoices. Something here wasn't adding up. ADP was always strapped for cash. The city barely gave them enough to stay active and replace what broke. There was no way the department could have paid for all this. Yet, each invoice was marked 'PAID IN FULL' in big, red letters. His first thought had been that it was another gift from the Knight Sabers. It hadn't taken long to disabuse himself of that notion. Any mercenary group that could afford to give this kind of equipment away would be running it's own country someplace not duking it out with boomers in the street. That most of the equipment was supplied by GENOM hadn't escaped his notice either. It was as if someone had taken ADPs wish list as a start and then tried to think of anything to add.
The manager flipped over the last invoice and checked his the last item off of the list in his portable computer. Sighing deeply, he saved the checklist and stretched. "That's the last of it. It's all here."
Leon nodded absently, still lost in thought.
"You gonna get this stuff out of here?" asked the manager, slipping another stick of gum into his mouth.
The detective shook his head clear and stood. Time enough later to worry about where the stuff came from Leon me boy. Right now the important thing is that it's here. A broad grin spread across his face. "You bet your ASS I'm gonna get it out of here." He dug though a few inches of invoices. "You got a phone under here somewhere?"
Mason wiped a thin line of sweat away from her face and turned resolutely back to her checklist so far every delivery was accounted for but she hadn't made it this far by trusting a computers word for everything. Four times already she'd had to pry GENOM's precious packages from the grips of incompetent bureaucrats and thieving fingers. The French thieves she'd actually been kind of amused with. Another hour and the pair would have made off with some VERY expensive hardware. Either one had more on the ball than some of the government idiots she'd been dealing with. Of course that cleverness hadn't saved them in the end. Even she wasn't going to screw around on this one. She shivered. If the old man was right then there was a better than even chance that she wouldn't even be alive at this time next year. Her lovely eyes narrowed as she tracked yet another errant shipment. That being the case it was foolish person indeed whose actions caused those odds to dip even slightly. ADP and its various sister organizations throughout the world had always been forced to do more with less. She was interested in seeing what they did with more for a change.
With cautious and delicate fingers Mackie finished attaching the fiber-optic data lines to the memory assembly and slid it into place. With an audible click the module seated itself. Not bothering to close the housing on the nano-tank the teen turned towards the control terminal. If it didn't work this time he was going to… keep working at it probably. He sighed. Every time he thought he had the damn thing fixed some diagnostic or other would blink its taunting red light at him. The young mechanic mentally crossed his fingers and keyed in the activation and diagnostic codes.
With an audible hum the tank came to life. On the primary control screen pages of data swept past the screen as millions of tests checked and rechecked every component.
Anxiously Mackie watched as each major diagnostic flag came back.
GENOM360AMOLECULAR ASSEMBLY UNIT
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
SYSTEMSTATUS
MEMORYOK
TANK OK
NANITE CONTROL (P)OK
NANITE CONTROL (B)OK
POWER SYSTEMOK
SENSING GRID (P)OK
SENSING GRID (B)OK
ENV. CONTROLOK
EMER. SHUTDOWNOK
System Ready.
Mackie closed his eyes in silent gratitude. Finally.
Sylia set her tea down next to the radio scanner and checked the settings on the complicated piece of electronics carefully. With the new AI it wasn't necessary to personally scan each emergency channel in sequence. Instead the AI sifted through all the official channels for key words and phrases and alerted the operator when one or more appeared. The only time it really needed help was when the encryption was too tough. So all she had to do was be there. Which, given her condition, was probably for the best.
Being careful not to bump her bandages the leader of the Knight Sabers sat back in her chair and allowed herself to relax. In truth she felt better than she had any right to. Fargo's help had enabled her to enjoy her first real bath since she'd been hurt and the warm water had helped ease a lot of her aches and pains. She'd even felt well enough to take a turn at alert duty. Of course convincing everyone else of that had been a bit difficult. Priss in particular had been adamant about waiting until she was fully healed before she resumed her normal duties. Sylia smiled. The hypocrisy hadn't been lost on the other Knight Sabers and was probably the reason why they'd let her take a turn tonight.
Sylia sipped her tea and flipped on the locator. A brief, encrypted, radio pulse pinged the Knight Sabers recall pagers triggering an answering pulse. He satin robe gave a silky hiss as she reached over to set her tea on the table. She nodded in satisfaction as the glowing dots appeared on the monitor. Priss and Chaz were at the club, Linna was at home and Nene and Mackie were probably beating some poor VR game into mush.
She frowned a bit. Fargo's beacon read as out of range. Probably working on something outside the city. The fixer had been up and about almost as soon as she'd finished his repairs. Which left her beacon light blinking in solitude. Sighing, she put the system back on standby. Chaz and Priss would be back soon enough. The singer seemed to be spending more and more time in the new Knight Saber's apartment. Oddly enough the thought of having them living with her and her brother didn't irritate her as much as she'd thought it would. She leaned back in the chair, grateful for the firm support. It was more or less comforting at times. Almost like a family.
Leon took the steps three at time as he bounded up the ADP headquarters stairwell; too excited and impatient to wait for the elevator. Hell, he didn't even mind that he was going to have to see Fujiura. He just couldn't wait to see the looks on the guys faces when they saw the trucks start pouring in.
He hardly minded the faint trickle of sweat down his back as he passed the twentieth floor. Finally! The ADP was going to have the equipment it needed. After giving it careful consideration the detective had decided that he didn't care where the stuff had come from only that it was here. The new K-17A powered armor alone would save lives. With a last bound he cleared the last of the steps to his floor and pushed open the stairwell door and headed for the offices.
Leon pushed open the glass doors and stared. The whole office was clustered up in the corner reading over a freshly posted memo. A few officers here and there were whispering and pointing towards Fujiura's office.
Leon started over and to read the notice and was stopped mid-way by Detective Farin.
Farin grinned and gave the surprised officer a pat on the back. "Hey, folks!" Officers turned around to face the pair. "Look who just walked in! The man of the hour himself."
Leon gave a slight shake of his head. "You guys already knew?"
Farin slapped him on the back. "Nope, Fujiura just posted the notice."
Leon deflated a little. "Damn. I was hoping to surprise everybody."
A young female sergeant piped up as she shook his hand vigorously. "Sure as hell surprised us. Everyone always thought that you were in the black books of the powers that be."
Leon began to get a little dizzy as he was spun around to shake hand after hand.
"Just goes to show doesn't it?"
"Yeah! Guess they finally decided to do something right."
Leon scratched his head in embarrassment. "Well, you know I didn't have much to do with getting the new equipment. I just went to pick it up."
A few faces looked at him nonplussed.
"Equipment?"
"Yeah, Leon what equipment?"
Leon looked around. "I thought you guys were talking about the huge shipment of equipment we just got in…"
He looked around as one after another of the faces around him began to grin.
"He doesn't know!"
"Just goes to show don't it."
Someone shoved a hastily ripped down memo in his hand.
"Always the last one to know."
"Don't you EVER read your e-mail?" Someone quipped.
Another laughed. "He's gonna HAVE to now."
The dark hared detective tried to focus on the memo as everyone tried to slap him on the back and shake his hand. His eyes focused on the first couple lines.
His mouth dropped in shock.
Farin gave him an ear-to-ear grin. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. You poor bastard." He turned back to the crowd. "Hey everybody! Let hear it for Captain McNichol, the new chief of ADP!"
Clad in his trademark custom tailored casual suit Quincy stood in the busy street all but oblivious to the heavy pedestrian traffic around him. Like water encountering a river rock, the hurried metropolis broke and flowed around him; all those small people with their cares and dreams. He wasn't completely oblivious to them. He sighed deeply. Whether they would be able to pursue those dreams or indeed even continue to be able to dream at all was going to depend in large part how this meeting went. Grey eyes squinting slightly against the light of the setting sun reflecting in the mirror glass, the chairman of GENOM looked up at the building in front of him. He really didn't want to be here. He'd have preferred to have this done in his own office. But, like so many other things lately what he wanted mattered very little and he hadn't gotten where he was today by denying facts. The person he needed to see was NOT going to be happy to see him. Forcing her to come to him would only have exacerbated an already difficult situation. In a few moments he was going to have to go in. The plans and schemes of years had been cast one by one to the way side until only this course of action was left. Gripping his cane tightly by its middle he started across the street. He hadn't become the man he was today by being indecisive either and he wasn't about to start now. With a firm tread Quincy crossed the street and pushed open the door into Lady's 633.