Circle of Fate and Pain
Chapter 6—Sunset Collapses to Redness
1.
It was an hour before sunset when then came the clomp-clomp-clomping beat of something heavy and powerful running along on armored boots. Armored boots clomping, gigantic robot-arms swinging, the black-clad figure ran hunched over... The robotic beast-machine wore a look of grotesque anger on its synthetic human-styled face... It was the nightmarish replicate Sechs: running into this neighborhood with the loping brutal stride of a feral beast that should have been extinct thousands of years ago yet still survived in an increasingly inhospitable environment. Schr-r-r-r-a-a-acch! Then Sechs came to a stop with armored boots digging into the street.
Cyborgs, businessmen, people-in-general turned their heads to look, their faces having that sort of what-the-Hell-is-that expression. And the few vehicles that dared to drive the road that Sechs was running on, those vehicles screeched to stops, veered around, and some just stopped.
Really, what the Hell is that thing? The torso and legs were covered with a ridged black bodysuit made of industrial leather, armored boots up to knees. A gigantic set of robotic arms were attached to the torso, arms that looked far too huge and armored to be supported by such a body. For a head, the nightmarish image had a sneeringly wild and scratched face, the scalp radiating short-cut spiky dark hair that looked as if it had been styled by a drunken cannibal's meat cleaver.
Then that beastly replicate scraped to a stop. It tilted back its head and opened the mouth. What followed was a ro-a-ar of anger that shook the street and quaked the air--making for a deep blast of sound that made everyone stop and look around--wondering if there was an earthquake. Truck windows nearby had been cracked. Some people were caught unawares and were temporarily deafened, staggering and disoriented.
In this terrible silence, the beastly replicate Sechs growled a challenge to all people present. "Who dares!"Clenching a gigantic construction-machine fist to the sunset-red sky, Sechs again roared. "Who dares challenge my superiority!"
Fw-a-a-r-rp! That was the sound of a truck's horn. Oh yes, a truck driver just made the terrible mistake of honking his vehicle's horn in anger. Then the truck driver leaned out of the vehicle's cab to shake his metal fist and shout at the ugly thing standing in the road. "What the Hell are ya doin'! People have got things to do!"
Sechs moved over to the truck in two monstrous strides… Whank-k-k! Propelled by an arm, Sechs' gigantic left fist had just blasted into the mechanical innards of the truck's engine--up to the shoulder. This was followed by awful sounds of metal ripping and twisting as the monster-replicate gripped and reached around inside the truck's engine, molesting the mechanical works. With all of that internal damage being done to the truck-machine, something had to give...
Fwoop! A sudden gout of flame erupted from the damaged front of the truck. Smoke began filling the driver's area of the vehicle. The driver then decided that it was maybe time to step out of the truck and go for a nice little bit of late-day exercise. Except the exercise involved running as fast as possible in the other direction and screaming as if a demon had climbed up from Hell to destroy his life.
It was a good thing that the truck driver did get away because Sechs was not yet done with the truck. In an awesome display of power, Sechs then blasted the other head-sized metal fist into the truck's engine-works. S-sh-hrak-k-k... Whank!
Sechs pulled outward with both arms. It resulted in the front of the truck sort of...coming apart. So damaged, the entire front of the vehicle collapsed to the street in a jangled and mutilated mess of twisted metal. Flames and smoke flared and fluffed out from it. And the smoke went up to the reddening sky above, the crackling and hot rippling sound of fire flames mixed with the sound of the city breeze... Then came the shout of a teenage girl. "He-e-ey there! What's shakin', hot stuff!"
Snarling, Sechs' turned around. "Over here! Or are your brains as small as your arms are big?" Over by an alleyway opening was what looked like a human girl in old-fashioned biker boots, worn with tight-fitting jeans and tee-shirt--her jacket off, waving it in the air. "We're over here, you big stupid-head! I bet you're stupid enough to run into a trap!"
"Ar-r-r-r-r... W-W-o-ooagh!" howled the monstrous replicate. Behind it was the burning remains of the truck. The fire, it did not seem to affect that robotic beast of a thing--not at all. It in fact seemed to add to the fury burning within the wild-haired and black-clad humanoid creature of robotic metal. That beast then hunched over and began to run its way over to the alleyway, where the pale-skinned girl in old-styled biker clothes was still smiling and waving. Then--insult of insults--the girl patiently put on her jacket before spinning around halfway and dashing off into the alley itself.
Heated with anger, armored booted legs and huge machine-arms swinging, the Sechs replicate bounded over to this alley to follow. The alley was a space six meters wide and walled with buildings at the left and right sides. There were blocks of junk positioned along the left and right sides, much as most alleys sometimes have trash. Except something was not right... Clack! A doorway opened up near the far end of the alleyway, on the left side. Strangely enough, the doorway looked as if it had been coated with rubber.
"Like... Geez, you're dense!" she said, voice echoing in this alleyway. Sechs began running at that girl and did not hear what was said next. "Like, what did I just tell you, and..." Sechs was suddenly on the move again and getting too close. "Whoops!" Whank! The rubber-coated door slammed shut before Sechs was halfway to it. "Do it!" And that was when the chained lightning started...
Gigantic jagged streaks and arcs of electric blue shot out from both sides of this alleyway and kept shooting--a chaos of buzzing and cracking sounds. This sunset-shadowed alleyway was suddenly full of flaring and flashing strobe-lighting brighter than daylight. Arcs of insane electricity continued streaking and making jagged forks in a display of intense energy. This was an artificial electrical storm happening right here within a confined space. As artificial as it was, it was nevertheless very loud and very powerful.
And the Sechs-replicate was right in the middle of it as that electrifying blue shot through midriff and arms. More zigs and zags of snap-blast chained lightning streaked between the huge robotic arms and the armored boots, more of it going around the head. Among the flashes, the nightmarish replicate's face gritted with electrical intensity. This was Sechs doing the jerky spasmodic dance of those being subject to a great deal of intense electrical energy! This loud and electrifying dance went on for a while…
When it was over, the nightmarish replicate was standing stiffly with huge robotic arms extended, ridged black bodysuit smoking. And the hair looking as crazy as ever. Trails of smoke billowed up from the shoulders and head.
When the electrical madness was finally over, the engine-sized blocks of "junk" along the sides of the alleyway had long since burned away their camouflage. Now there were exposed metal machines smoking and crackling from overloading themselves, all of them with reduced electrical potential... Some red lights on the "junk" components blinked on while some others made low beeping sounds. Indeed, those engine-sized cubes of "junk" were the sources of this intense show of this lightning. show.
High above, nine people were crouching down and looking over the lips of the right-side building to look down into this alley--just leaning over far enough as so their heads and shoulders were visible. Some of them had metal shoulders, some had metal heads, many of them various kinds of generally human appearance. One of them was Kyrie.
"Now is the opportunity!" shouted the girl with dollish face and long moon-colored hair. Her big gold-colored eyes danced with mad glee as she shook one of her hands clenched into a fist. "Destroy the replicate! Destroy it! Destroy it! "
Down here on the ground, two huge figures then burst out from metal doors on the left and right sides of the alley: two cyborgs with electromechanical bodies as broad as trucks and looking strong as nuclear-powered machinery. "Wh-rr-r, hrr-hrr-hrr..." came sounds from their mouths—the sounds of cyborg warriors laughing. Both of them began taking steps towards the stiffly standing Sechs--who still had both arms extended outward. Unlike gladiatorial battles, their opponent here was just standing here. These ten-foot behemoths just kept walking closer. O-h-h yes, hrr-hrr, this was going to be e-e-easy! "Hrr-hrr-hrr-hrr…!"
The chuckling sound of the arena gladiator cyborgs was audible from up here on the roof, a dark and sadistic chuckle that seemed to resonate within Kyrie. She only wished she temporarily had a cyborg-body as so she could smash Sechs personally. Then the Sechs replicate moved. It turned itself ninety degrees, big robot-arms pointed left and right, pointing at the cyborg gladiators. A glaring flash of light was accompanied by a booming sound.
Next thing the girl knew, she was looking up at the sky through dimmed and pain-dazzled vision. There was the impression of blurry shapes of some people were leaning over her. They were saying something, their mouths moving and making for muffled sort of sounds--like trying to hear something through a windstorm. Yet the girl could not hear them as her ears were ringing. Kyrie could not hear anything but that loud ringing, could barely see anything after being half-blinded…
"Oh no!" exclaimed one of the twin synthetic girls. "No! Wait a second! Don't move her yet!" she said. Before even trying to move Kyrie, Vicki had to look over Kyrie to make sure that it was safe to move her. She used her electronic eyes and computer-mind in analyzing Kyrie's immediate physical data…
Kyrie was not trying to move. But her eyes were open, and her breath was rapid. Her otherwise pale face looked slightly reddened. A hand to a delicate wrist indicated that the girl's pulse was still strong--very strong. It was trauma resulting from flash-bang shock, the blast of light and heat from Sech's charged lightning attack down in the alley.
"What the Hell!" declared Vanessa from over there at the edge of this building, looking down into the alley. "Vi-i-icki!" she screamed, turning to look in this direction. Meanwhile, the other people atop this roof began running along this roof. "We've gotta boogie out of here! Like, that big Sechs replicate just wastedthose two great big cyborg gladiators we hired. What a blast! I think it's 'cause Sechs somehow stored up some of that lightning to use for a weapon or something!" Vicki still remained there, kneeling by fallen Kyrie. "What the Hell! Move your butt, Vicki! Grab the kid if you want! I'm carrying her stuff."
Vicki bent over to pick up Kyrie: one arm going under Kyrie's upper back, the other arm going under Kyrie's bare knees. The artificial teenage girl then repositioned her right arm in such a way that she was supporting Kyrie's head with her elbow—again keeping the girl's neck in line with her spine to minimize the probability of whiplash injury. Luckily, Kyrie was so petite a girl that she would be easier to carry, long hair curtaining down...
Meanwhile, Vanessa was nearby and unzipping her jacket before picking up Kyrie's messenger-bag. The artificial girl then looped a shoulder-strap around the front of her neck, at the base of her throat. This left the bulk of the bag falling against her back like a little backpack. If Vanessa had been human, such a thing would have led to worries of strangulation. But it wasn't a problem when one didn't have to worry about breathing. Then she put back on her leather jacket, hiding the messenger bag.
But where would they run now? Some of the people who were hired to help were running for the far-edge of this building's roof, to leap over to the next building over. Two of them didn't make the leap and fell out of sight over the edge of the building.
Holding Kyrie, the gynoid analyzed the situation. What could she do? The synthetic muscles in Vicki's legs--augmented myogel--allowed her to make amazing leaps and feats of agility. But there was the probability she would accidentally hurt Kyrie when landing on the other roof--or if they fell. The only choice was the roof access down into this building--to risk confronting the Sechs replicate-monster in the alley. That monster had also survived exposure to the artificial field-lighting setup put in place by Kyrie and her machines. "I don't know how fast I can move with her," she said.
"I don't care! Don't stand there looking dumber than usual! Come on!" goaded Vanessa. She then grabbed some of Vicki's left leather jacket-sleeve to pull. They were going to get down the stairs into the building and down to the ground floor. The plan was to run the Hell away from here, run fast and far.
They plunged down into the roof-access staircase that went into the building while rumbling and snarling sounds kept coming from the alley--seeming to shake the building. Vicki held Kyrie close while getting down the stairs as quickly as possible, biker boots thumping the stairs... It added to the general clatter of everyone else's footwear clunk-clunk-clunking down the stairs in getting out of here. What a bother, thought Vicki. The calf-length biker-boots worn by Vicki and her sister were sturdy, but the heels were a real annoyance--especially in trying to get down these poorly lit stairs. Vicki had to worry about not falling herself and also not dropping Kyrie.
The first floor of this building was a night club that was abandoned during daylight hours--overhead lights off, dim afternoon daylight slanting through big windows to shine on the tables. Everyone had to sidestep around tables to run for the door. "Like hurry the Hell up already!" complained Vanessa. She was already standing over there by the exit, hands on jeans-clad hips while everyone else had already hit the sidewalk outside and was running away. "You're moving slow as a meat-bag!"
Vicki said nothing while jogging towards the doorway and slowing down. She had to cradle Kyrie closer and walk sideways through the door--careful not to bump the girl's head on the door. In this way, she was able to get out of the night-club building.
2.
And as soon as the twins were out of there and out to the sidewalk, there was a blast of explosive sound from within the building. The twins were already well away and running when Sechs emerged from the smoke and dust of the entrance Sechs growled. It sounded something like a warning or words, but the brutal words were distorted with anger and loudness. The meaning was clear enough: Sechs wanted to destroy.
Vicki and Vanessa had already run three blocks' distance away by that time. They were capable of running a great deal faster than that, much faster than human and some kinds of cyborgs, but Vicki had to run while holding Kyrie. Vanessa was thinking about exactly that…
They ducked into an alley for a hot few seconds. Despite their intense and high-speed running, they were not breathing heavily at all: Being gynoids gave them unlimited running endurance. Also true was how their physiques were synthetic flesh over titanium skeletons instead of heavy metal and electromechanical workings. Yet the monstrous replicate back there probably also had unlimited running endurance.
Now was at least a little time to pause and analyze their situation. That, and what about Kyrie? Vicki tilted her head as so her electronic hearing could better listen to the girl's breathing and heartbeat. Her heartbeat was a little slower than human-average, but steady. Or it could be because mutant-girls had different pulse-rates. As for respiration, Kyrie's breathing had the rhythm of someone sleeping. The girl was therefore unconscious, her face still had that suntanned look to it from the blast of heat and light.
Vanessa leaned up against a wall, the strap of the messenger bag still looped across the front of her neck. The artificial teenager then crossed her arms and made eye-contact with Vicki--eyes wide open. "Let's communicate," she said.
By that, Vanessa meant that they would now communicate without using sounds--communicating their words by way of wireless infra-red communication. An array of diodes within Vanessa's eyes transmitted rapid flashes of infra-red light to Vicki's eyes, transmitting words. If someone was standing nearby, they would have seen two city girls staring at each other in an alley--stares locked, one of the girls holding a girl-child.
We can't run with her forever, transmitted Vanessa. We should really dump the kid in a shop or something. Then we should go dump ourselves deeper in big ol' Scrap Town. Yeah, that big psycho Sechs won't find us there! That, or the Sechs replicate would be too distracted by meat-bags telling it to get a better taste in clothes. And did you see that freaky-as-Hell bodysuit? What fashion-mutant dressed the monster in that thing?
Still locking stares with her sister, Vicki eye-transmitted a response. Come on! Seriously, we can't do that just yet. We're too close. Isn't it bad enough that Kyrie lost her best friend to that replicate Sechs? She's fainted..
Vanessa would have made an eye-rolling expression if she didn't have to lock eyes with Vicki to communicate this way. Geez, how can a meat-puppet sleep at a time like this, anyway? Okay, okay! She's knocked out cold. Good, so she won't make too much noise if we dumped her in a trash can something. And we can leave the lid off so she can breathe. Hell, a lot of humans in this city sleep in trash-cans all the time...like Oscar the Grouch!
To that, Vicki transmitted back, No, we'll get her back to the clinic of this neighborhood. Then we'll distract Sechs enough to follow us...before we get lost. Besides, I though you'd think it would be fun to cause a little trouble.
Like Hell yeah, transmitted Vanessa. And here I was thinking that you were a spoil-sport. Maybe a little of Jamie was rubbing off on you or something? Sounds like a decent enough plan, though--heh-heh--even coming from you. Still stare-locked, Vanessa raised her right hand to finger the messenger bag strap looped around the bottom of her neck. The weight and bulk of it was was pressed to her back beneath the synth-leather jacket--the bulk of unspent credit-chips. I wonder how much we can swipe from this kid for payment for our services this time?
Vicki transmitted, If you want to steal from a girl while she's been knocked out, Vanessa, then I can't stop you. But at least leave enough for her to buy food and doctors... Yeah, and leave enough to pay bodyguards as so she can get back home.
"Not again, not again..." Kyrie was murmuring, stirring in Vicki's arms. "The red circle... Closes over us all, a circle to go around... To go around..." The rest of what she said was lost in incoherent mumbles. What did she mean by that?
Kid must be dreaming about a Motorball circuit, transmitted Vanessa. I'm stopping communication now. She then blinked a certain way, breaking the locking stare and the infrared transmission. Then she did a quick sort of lean to the right to look out at the sidewalk--looking back in the direction they had run from. Sechs wasn't in sight. Still... "Okay, let's go," she said, using her voice.
That said, the twins stepped out of the alleyway, one of them carrying Kyrie. They looked left and right. There seemed to be no immediate sign of pursuit of Sechs. In fact, there seemed to not be anyone else around... There was just Vicki and Vanessa stepping along this sidewalk--going along. This late in the day, sunlight taking on the gold-yellow tones before sunset, Tire-Wire Alley was usually getting to be pretty busy as people around the sports industry went off to the nearest Motorball arena deeper within Scrap Iron City. It was getting to be just around that time. But this time, there was no one. There was just the sound of the city breeze blowing along.
"Where the Hell did all the flesh-brained losers go?" commented Vanessa aloud. "Hmm... Hah-hah! Maybe that Sechs replicate killed 'em all. It must have done a pretty neat job at it, too. I don't see any blood or body parts--metal or meat. If Sechs did do everyone, it must've been pretty cool to watch, too... Big fists going swoosh and all of those fleshies going splat.. Body parts would be everywhere!"
"Stop it! You're scaring me..." responded Vicki. "And like, Sechs could be around here right now. The wind is in my ears and my audio sensitivity is reduced." Indeed, the wind was how-w-wling at this point. "Who knows where it is?"
Two things happened. A curly haired man in red tee shirt and beige slacks stepped out from a shop along this sidewalk--stepping onto this sidewalk. The way he had his left arm close to his abdomen, he seemed to be injured. He was using his right arm and was beckoning to them--making a come over here gesture with his right arm. As for the second thing, it was...a familiar grow-w-wling sound that shook the air. Oh yeah, the Sechs replicate was not too far off now!
Come over here, came the gesture again That man over there turned around to walk back towards the store-front from which he stepped out of. There was also the clomp-clomp-clomp sound of a very murderous and very nasty replicate on the way over here. Vicki held Kyrie closer and ran with Vanessa. As fast as Vicki and Vanessa ran, it seemed as if they were moving too slow to catch that injured man. And it was as if the replicate coming at them was getting closer.
Clomp-clomp-CLOMP-CLOMP! It was as if Sechs was almost right here. Those gigantic armored footsteps were getting louder and seemed to be overwhelming even the sound of the breeze--big booming steps like that of earth-quaking pounding-sounds of bombardment. Just a few more strides and they would be in. Come over here... The injured man stood by an open doorway into the shop and walked in--disappearing into the darkness within. Vanessa slapped open the front door wider and dashed in herself. Vicki followed close behind with Kyrie. Then...everything plunged into a sick and numbing sort of darkness..for just a second
Somehow, there was this place--a dimly lit club. At the far end of the room was a brightly lit raised stage... There was an old-fashioned jazz band on the stage and looking ready to play--all of the men dressed in sun-yellow tuxedo-jackets and pants. One of them was sitting behind an old-fashioned drum-set, another had a big cello between his knees where he sat. A third tuxedo-wearing man had a gleaming, shiny saxophone balanced on his knees. The fourth was sitting at the far right and at a piano. The fifth man in sun-colored tuxedo was standing at the microphone.
"What is this?" asked Kyrie. The girl herself was sitting at one of the tables in the darkness before the stage. There were maybe a dozen tables a person could barely see in the low indirect glow of the stage spotlight.
Then again, Kyrie's eyesight was not like that of most people. The girl had no problem in adjusting to the gloom: The pupils of her unusually large eyes simply widened to adjust. Being a slight mutant had at least some advantages. Even so, while most everything else was easier to see now, it was as if she could...barely see...the strange man sitting at this table. It was as if he was a gray shadowy blur... "I ask, who are you?" she voiced aloud. "I demand answers!"
"Mwe-heh... Ach! Ach-hem! So the pretty little girl wants a big ugly answer?" asked the strange man. He was keeping his voice was low, as if struggling to speak through the pain of injuries--the cough sounding wet with blood trickling into lungs. Or it could be that he was trying not to disturb the sacred quietness of this place. "Well now, I could tell you one thing, then have to tell it to you again...and again... This isn't the first time around. You just can't remember to remember around this time..."
"You speak of nonsense," said the girl. "I have no such recollection of ever having 'remembered' anything of this place or of you. Scrap Iron City has its fair share of clubs, shops and such. Yet this place must certainly be different from many of them. I would certainly have remembered it."
There was a slight blur of movement in the general area of the strange man's head; he must have shaken his head no. "So we come and go with the same line of conversations. Will it never end to come to an end? Time and time again makes for repetition... Ach-achem! Tell me, what do you know of the workings of karma? What should happen if something was to happen to that in particular?"
Karma, thought Kyrie. The girl knew something of karma--something occasionally come across in technical books read. Except those were side-bars and miscellaneous articles. Kyrie's knowledge was primarily on the technical workings and scientific bases of machine technology, not vague cosmology. "There is no time for this, nor do I have the patience for it," restated the girl, looking around for Vicki and Vanessa.
Where were they? There was the chance that this strange man meant her harm. Most people of Scrap Iron City were friendly, though a bit tired and downtrodden from the daily efforts of working factory work and eating meager meals. There were crazies... The way this strange man was talking, he could be one such crazy. He could want to kill her. In that case, perhaps she should not make any sudden moves and go with his peculiar talk.
"You look around and round for...Vicki and Vanessa?" asked the strange man. "Erg-ach-h-h! Ach-hem! They are waiting for you again. Likewise, the band is waiting to play again. Your girlfriend Sieben? Oh yes, that one waits for you again as well."
"How do you come to say such things?" blurted Kyrie before she could stop herself. For him to know the names of Vicki and Vanessa, that was easy. Maybe he knew the twins from elsewhere. But about Sieben, there was no immediate way that this strange man could come to know her Sieben. And for him to speak on such familiar terms about her...!
"Look and listen," added the strange man. "We've been here once, twice, too many times before... Ach-achem! What goes around, comes around. Sometimes it's around more than another round. When I asked you about what happens when something happens to karma itself, it was an honest question. Even I don't know. But we'll all find out again. By the byway, to introduce myself, I'm Jack Bent."
The backwardness and strangeness of all this was both annoying and unsettling to Kyrie. Except there...was soon no time to worry about that. Someone stepped onto the stage, holding a box. There was...an intense glare...of light that overcame everything. Kyrie could not even blink or close her eyes because...the intense white-hot glare burned away everything, even herself. There was just a moment of white-hot pain, not even enough time to scream--a scream lost in the glare...
Then came a darkness that was just as dark as the exploding glare had been white, a place opposite. There was the vague idea of lying on something or being leaned on something at an angle. A spotlight shone down from somewhere above in the darkness... A blurry, smeared figure with a wild head of flaming gray stood over. Fwe-e-e-e-e...!
It was that sound again. That was the Hellishly awful sound of a little electric saw spinning--a saw with a blur-spinning circular blade the size of a coin. The sound was most certainly coming from what was held in the figure's right arm. It was coming closer. If the sound of the turbo-spinning little blade was awful, then the sound of it...biting into the skull...was...worse... The blade squealed as the turbo-spinning action began to cut into bone, going whe-e-e-e...! Everything seemed to fade...