Okay, here's chapter 8. Hope you're all enjoying this and thanks for the feedback. If you haven't reviewed, please take a minute to do so; I'd really appreciate it.

She had little trouble finding the kind of place she was looking for. Chop-shops and boomer recycling parlors were a dime a dozen in the Canyons. It was somewhat more difficult to get Razz inside, but she managed his one-hundred-fifty-plus kilos of androidial weight in a fireman's carry, just as she'd gotten him from the alley to her bike.

Once through the door, she quickly located the proprietor, a short, fat, gray-haired old man with a few odd-looking bits of cosmetic cyberware that might or might not have been indicative of more profound implants. As she approached his sales counter, the limp, naked, freshly maimed boomer on her shoulders, he glanced at her curiously. "Help you with something?" he said.

Settling Razz's sagging form on the counter, she exhaled loudly and said, "Damn, he's a heavy one." And then, smiling wistfully, she said, "Well, I found this poor dilapidated boomer down in the Kanto Dump while I was scrounging around, and I tinkered around with him for a while, but I just can't seem to do anything with him."

The old junk man grunted, and said, "Tinkered, huh? Find anything wrong with 'im?" And, indicating Razz's newly missing arms and genitals, not to mention his mangled face, he added, "Besides the obvious, that is."

Nene nodded slowly, and said, "Yeah, looks like he was in a heck of a fight, all right. And I did find a couple of things." Looking down to hide a smile that had gone from wistful to predatory, she said, "It looks like whoever did this cut his neural linkage, but that can be fixed. No, the real problem is in his AI, I'm afraid."

Frowning, the old man said, "In his AI? Then what good is he?"

Nene shook her head, and said, "I'm not too sure, really. But I did jack in there, and it looks like somebody turned loose a really nasty virus, or maybe some nanites, or maybe even both. Anyway, I think he's still partially aware, but all of his motor areas are screwed up, and the speech processing centers too. He'll probably be able to move again, at least a little, I think, but he'll never have any coordination. And I don't think he'll ever talk again. But!" She paused theatrically, and then continued. "What I did find was that he's had some specialty programming. He's a 23C, and was probably somebody's bodyguard at one time. But it looks like he was somebody's sex toy too. He's got lots of add-on programming for that stuff."

The junk dealer's frown deepened, and, pointing to Razz's missing parts said, "What the hell good is all that? I could slap together a new one for him, but in the condition he's in, why bother?"

Nene's smile widened, the predatory edge barely concealed, and she said, "Oh, but that's the best part. All of the sex programming he's got is homo-oriented, not hetero! And it's all submissive stuff. So, really, you won't have to do much at all. In fact, I'm sure that with the right kind of advertising and a little cosmetic work, you won't have any problem finding him a nice new owner."

The junk dealer grunted again, this time apparently in satisfaction, and said, "Well, that sounds like it may have potential. But this is an odd brand on his back. Deep, too. Doubt I'll ever be able to get that out, and even after he heals, there'll be a scar."

Not bothering to hide the feral nature of her grin anymore and fingering the stylized bird form with the incised 'Knight Sabers' logo seared into Razz's back, Nene said, "Yeah, kind of odd alright."

"So will you take ten thousand for him?" the old man asked, naming a price far below what Razz was worth, even as scrap.

But Nene just shook her head, and turning to exit the shop said over her shoulder, "No, that's ok, mister. He's on the house. Just make sure he finds the right kind of home."

As she walked out the door and climbed on the bike parked outside, the crow swooped from wherever it had been perched above. It landed on her shoulder, and, as she started the bike and pulled away, Nene was almost sure that, somewhere inside her head, she could hear Razz screaming.

Mackie was elbows deep in the work he planned on having finished before Nene's return when one of the upstairs intrusion alarms began to beep softly. "Ah, shit," he said resignedly. Making his way to the nearest terminal, he punched up a micro-cam view of the garage's ruined interior and, spying the intruders, grunted in recognition. "Oh, hell, not them again," he said aloud. Sighing, he watched their progress on the monitor, wishing they'd leave so that he could get back to work.

Upstairs, Leon and Ami poked and prodded their way around the garage, looking for anything that might be a concealed doorway or elevator.

"Anything?" Leon asked.

Takashi shook her head, and said, "There are all kinds of things in here that could be what we're looking for, but nothing for sure. And no damn controls."

"Probably wireless, or voice coded, or some shit like that. Hell, for all I know, you might have to moon the right wall and let it scan the rings around-"

"Stop!" Takashi said sharply, raising a hand in a 'halt!' gesture. "You've got way too much time on your hands if you can think up shit like that, McNichol."

"Huh!" Leon said. "I wish." And then, frowning, he said, "And I'm about tired of wasting time looking for something that was designed not to be found."

Puzzled, Ami said, "So what do you want to do? Quit and go home?"

Shaking his head, Leon said, "Hell no. But let's try the direct approach." And, taking a deep breath, he bellowed, "Stingray! We know you're in here somewhere! And I'm damn sure you can hear me! We just need to talk to you for a minute, that's all, so come on out!"

They waited for a few moments, and when nothing happened, Ami said, "Good try, McNichol, but if he is here, I don't think he's buying it."

Angry now, Leon yelled, "Goddamn it, kid, I said all we want is to talk! So get your ass out here, before we decide to come back with a friggin' jack-hammer and a couple of construction boomers to run the damn thing! And if you don't think I can make that happen, you better think again!"

Ami raised an eyebrow and looked at Leon quizzically. In response, in a stage whisper Leon said, "Well, he doesn't know I can't."

As he said this, there was a slight noise behind them, and both cops whirled, hands going automatically to the shoulder holsters inside their jackets.

"No need for gun play, officers," Mackie said, stepping out of the shadows. "What can I do for you?"

Both officers relaxed visibly, and Leon said, "Like I said, we need to talk to you. That's all."

Frowning, Mackie said, "About what, exactly, Officer McNichol? I thought we'd pretty much finished talking a few months ago."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Stingray!" Leon said. "Let's stop playing stupid ass games. Where the hell is she? And what do you have her doing?"

"Excuse me?" Mackie said, confused by the last part of Leon's question. "Where is who?"

Rolling his eyes, Leon said, "The damn Nene-bot, of course. You couldn't think that somebody wouldn't figure it out eventually, could you? I mean, hell, who else knew her that well and also happens to know enough about boomers to kit-bash something like that together? You tell me, kid."

Non-plused for a moment, Mackie couldn't help but laugh as the sense of what Leon had said dawned on him.

Frowning, Leon said, "What the hell is so funny, Stingray? Or are you losing it on us?"

Mackie shook his head, and said, "McNichol, that's the dumbest damn thing I've heard anybody say in a long time. That's why I'm laughing. Nene-bot!"

Temper rising, Leon said, "Really? Well, how funny is being arrested, then?"

"What?" Mackie said incredulously. "On what damn charge?"

"Suspicion of illegal recycling and/or unauthorized alterations, unlicensed ownership, and possession of illegal weapons, for starts. Do I need to go on?"

"This is bullshit!" Mackie said, indignant. "You don't have a shred of evidence! Hell, you don't even have a decent theory!"

Leon shrugged, and, bluffing, said, "Maybe. But I think there's enough circumstantial shit to at least bring you in for questioning. Could take a couple of days, at least, assuming that nothing else comes to light. If that happens, you could be up shit creek. You still feel like being a smart-ass with us?"

Mackie swallowed down his indignation, trying to gauge whether or not they were serious. But as near as he could tell, Leon intended to follow through with his threat, and Takashi was giving nothing away.

Finally, slumping slightly, he said, "Ah, hell. What do you want to know?"

Winking to Leon, Takashi stepped up to Mackie and put a sympathetic hand on his good arm. "Hey, calm down, kid." She said. "It's gonna be ok. Just tell us what's going on, and maybe we can help."

Studying Takashi closely, Mackie said, "So what's this? Good cop, bad cop?"

Takashi snorted and said, "Hell, kid, most of the people who know me would say that Leon's the good cop. Usually, I'm just a cast-iron bitch to everybody, and I've been known to use a combat knife as an interrogation tool. But it's not hard to see that something's really eating you up inside, and I'd like to know what."

Leon nodded appreciatively, and realized that her interrogation technique wasn't hurt at all by the fact that she was sincere. Hell, for that matter, all he really wanted was to know what was going on. Chief had made it plain that the case was closed, and Leon wasn't even sure he wanted to stop what was happening. After all, what was occurring down in the Canyons was probably the only justice any of the Knight Saber's murderers was ever likely to face. But before he could just walk away and let things take their course, he had to know.

Mackie sighed, and said, "You won't believe this. Any of it."

"Try us." Leon said.

"Ok," Mackie began, "It's like this…"

"Bullshit!" Leon said a few minutes later, indignant.

Mackie shook his head slowly, and said, "I told you you wouldn't believe it."

"Well of course I don't believe it!" Leon yelled. "I was right here when they pronounced her dead! When they loaded her up and took her away! When Fusikawa performed the damn autopsy! And when they put her in the ground at Yokohama! Hell, you and Takashi were there too!"

Angry now too, Mackie said, "Yeah, I was! And like I told her last night, I heard everything those bastards did to her! I saw her bloody corpse after I dragged myself out of that closet! She died! I friggin' know that! But I also know that, somehow, she came back!" And, in a quieter tone he added, "And I know that she's not a damned boomer. There's no way in hell she could've fooled me this long."

Takashi exhaled loudly, and said, "Y'know, Leon, I think it's pretty safe to say that he believes what he's saying."

Leon shook his head angrily, and said, "Yeah, well, we probably should get him some professional help then. If he believes that shit, he needs it."

"So what do you want to do, McNichol? Send the kid to see the wizard? Somehow, I don't think we're going to make any hard arrests here."

"Ah, shit." Leon said tiredly, rubbing his nose with thumb and forefinger. "I don't know anymore, Takashi. This shit just keeps getting weirder as we go along."

"You ready to give up?" She said in surprise.

"No," Leon said, "not yet."

Frowning, Takashi said, "Well, that leaves us with two choices, basically. Either we stake this place out-"

"Don't bother," Mackie said quietly. "She'd know. And she wouldn't come back here until you were gone. Or she'd find a way to sneak in."

"Ok," Takashi said, irritated, "Then the only other damn thing to do would be to head down to the Outer District and try to run her down."

Leon nodded his head slowly, and said, "So the Outer District it is."

Mackie shook his head and said, "You shouldn't do that. She was worried about you, Leon. She said that she was afraid you'd get yourself killed if you went down there poking around."

Leon snorted, and said, "Great! Now even the boomers are worried about me."

Takashi frowned, and said, "I don't know, Leon. Maybe we shouldn't blind ourselves to the possibility that she could be something besides a boomer."

Looking at her incredulously, Leon said, "What! Don't tell me you've flipped your damn lid too, Takashi!"

"Alright, McNichol," Ami said with an edge in her voice. "I've had just about enough of your hard-headed bullshit for one night, so chill the hell out. All I'm saying is, we shouldn't go running into this with our minds made up. We had a theory, and so far it hasn't panned out. There's a lot of circumstantial evidence here to suggest she's a boomer, but who the hell knows? I've had a weird feeling about this whole thing since it started."

Leon shook his head slowly, and said, "Well, I'll be damned. Ok, let's put this to rest right now." And, whipping his cell phone from his jacket, Leon accessed it's Net functions. Using his high-level access to surf into the N-Police secure site, he ran a query, asking for any incidents in the Yokohama Cemetery in the last thirty-six hours. After a few seconds, he was stunned by the return.

"What?" Takashi asked as she saw him pale. "What the hell did you find, Leon?"

"Nothing," he said in an odd voice. "Just more bullshit, that's all."

Frowning, Ami reached for the phone, and said, "Just bullshit, huh? Then let me take a look, McNichol."

Sighing, he handed it over without protest. A few moments later, in a small voice Takashi said, "Holy shit."

"What?" Mackie said, frowning. "What is it?"
Handing the phone absently back to Leon, she said in a bemused tone, "Seems there was a grave violated out in Yokohama last night. Plot number 137a, belonging to-'

"Nene Romanova." Mackie finished quietly.

Ami nodded, and, continuing in the same tone of bewilderment, said, "The strange part is, it doesn't look like the grave was dug up. It looks like somebody dug their way out. From the inside. The N-cops don't have a clue what to make of it."

"Do you see now?" Mackie said earnestly. "It's her."

Leon shook his head stubbornly, and said, "There's no way in hell I'll believe that. But you know what? I'm gonna see for myself just what the hell she is. You coming, Takashi?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," she said. "Not for the world."

As The Tin Man stood, contemplating, on the roof of the covertly rebuilt Hong Triad's headquarters, a messenger approached him from behind. He continued to look out over the garishly neon-lighted environs of the Outer District, visible from his relatively high perch, and remembered a much more impressive view he'd once had from higher up still. But he'd changed since then, in many ways, and was changing still at an ever-increasing pace. He no longer felt the burning desire for those heights, for he knew they would come to him in time. He realized now, as he hadn't then, that time was his greatest ally. Time and patience.

The messenger stopped a few respectful paces behind The Tin Man, and stood there nervously, not wanting to interrupt his master, the unacknowledged driving force behind the Hong Triad. For his part, The Tin Man let the messenger stand for a few moments, knowing that his discomfort grew. It was good to remind underlings of their place from time to time, he felt.

Finally, the Tin Man turned his head slightly, acknowledging the messenger, and said, "Yes?"

"Sir," the messenger said in a tightly controlled voice, "I have news regarding one of those whom you wanted monitored."

Vaguely amused, The Tin Man said, "Go on."

The other continued, saying, "It's the android, Razz, sir. He-"

"Is no longer with us." The Tin Man finished slowly.

Surprised, the other stammered, "Y- Yes sir. You already know, sir?"

The Tin Man smiled thinly, and said, "I know a great many things these days. Information flows into me from more and more sources every hour. Every second! Very soon, all the information in the world may very well be a part of me."

Not knowing what to say, the messenger was silent. But his was a very nervous silence.

Finally, The Tin Man said, "You've done well. You may go now."

Grateful for this dismissal, the messenger performed the necessary courtesies and then hastily left the way he'd come.

Looking back out over the cesspool of neon light below him, The Tin Man thought, 'I wonder. Could it really be her?' And, reaching out through the myriad connections that he was slowly integrating into himself, he sought an answer to that question. What eventually came back to him was both surprising and intriguing.

'So there are precedents after all,' he thought in a vague sort of wonder. And then, 'What an odd, beautiful world we inhabit.'

Staring off into space again, buoyed by the sea of information on which he swam, The Tin Man had a final thought on the subject. 'And, it seems, those in her situation have weaknesses. But then, don't we all.'

Once she'd ensured Razz's future, Nene continued on toward the pit fights, considering her next move as she roared through the broken, crowded streets. She had little doubt she'd be able to find Moe there. He seemed the type one might find either competing in or betting on something called a 'pit fight', whatever it might actually be. And while she could make some guesses, Nene wasn't really sure just what a pit fight was. She'd only heard the term for the first time the night before. But she figured that she'd find out soon enough.

As the crowd thickened around her, and the street opened up into a wide ruined area of broken and uneven masonry, the remnants of buildings that had fallen completely during the Quake, Nene began to get some idea of what the pit fights were. Ahead of her, she saw a roughly circular depression, maybe three meters deep and ten meters across, possibly the remnants of an old basement, or, like The Asshole, some part of the city's sewer system. Looking around, Nene realized that the pit in front of her wasn't unique. There were at least a dozen others, all with their own cheering, jostling crowds.

'Huh!' She thought. 'So that's it. Like a Roman arena, only a lot skankier. It figures.'

She attracted little attention as she rolled up and parked the bike, setting the alarm almost automatically now. Dismounting, she strolled about, making her way from pit to pit. She found that the combatants ran the gamut from human to boomer, and all between, with a few thrown in that she wasn't sure were either. And then, finally, she spied her quarry.

Moe wasn't fighting tonight, it seemed. Instead, he stood at the edge of one of the pits, leaning forward anxiously to follow the combat below. He cheered as one of the combatants, a dark-haired woman in tight leather pants and a black halter top raked her opponent across the chest with the glowing, humming, twenty-centimeter claws that extended from her fingers. The other, a supped-up kit-bash based on an Eibisu generic model, roared a metallic challenge in reply, and swung wildly with it's spiked fists.

The woman, almost certainly a 33C to judge by her internal weaponry, Nene thought, dodged the clumsy attack with ease, though she seemed slowed by a slight limp. The kit-bash pursued her relentlessly as she dodged around it, slicing it here and nicking it there. Finally, apparently tiring of the game she played with her inferior opponent, the dark-haired woman leaped over it, somersaulting and twisting in the air as she went. She landed directly behind and facing the other boomer, and drove her glowing blades home with a savage cry. The kit-bash gave an odd, metallic gurgle and dropped to it's knees. Grinning fiercely, the woman drew back with her other hand and decapitated it with a single swift blow, sending it's metallic head rolling to stop with a dull clang against the nearest wall. Throwing both hands up above her, she roared like a victorious lion.

At the pit's edge, Nene heard Moe chuckle and, to a fellow spectator, he said, "Goddamn! That Jade sure does enjoy her work, don't she? Knew I'd make me a pile of money bettin' on that psycho boomer mama!"

The other laughed as well, and with a muttered agreement moved away to either collect his winnings or catch another fight. Moe just shook his head in a satisfied way and turned from the pit, intending to call it a night. But Nene had other plans.

Sidling up to Moe's right, she slipped her left hand around his arm, and, with her right, pressed the coke-can sized pistol grenade mated to her borrowed hand-canon into his side. His eyes widened in surprise, and, looking down he said, "What the f-!"

But Nene cut him off, saying, "Ah! Careful, Moe! This thing's got a hair trigger, and I'm feeling just a little bit jumpy tonight."

Frowning, he said menacingly, "Izzat so? Well, little mama, I happen to know there's no way that thing'll arm this close in. It's gotta spin so many times first. Usually takes at least a few meters. Get where I'm comin' from?"

Nene smiled sweetly, disconcerting the ebony giant, and said, "Oh, I know that, silly! But I'm pretty sure just the impact will mess you up really good and probably knock you ass over tea kettle too." And then, her smile slowly becoming a wicked grin, Nene said, "And you can bet this isn't the only one I've got."

Realizing that something just wasn't right with the tiny red-head, Moe swallowed once and said, "Ok. What the hell you want, then? Cash? I got that. Dope? I can get that too. Some other shit? Name it."

Nene shook her head slowly, and said, "Information, Moe. For starts, anyway. Oh, and a ride. You do have wheels, don't you?"

Moe grunted, and said, "Yeah, I got wheels. Where the hell you wanna go?"

"Oh, we'll get to that, Moe," she said. "For now, let's just find your ride, shall we?"

Moe shook his head in disbelief, and, heading for a large, black chrome-wheeled Cadillac, old but well taken care of, he muttered, "Ain't this some shit. You better take off runnin' when we get wherever you're going, little mama. 'Cause if I ever get my hands on you-"

Nene sighed loudly, and said, "Promises, promises. You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, you know. They're bad for business." And then, tone darkening, she snarled, "And we both know business is business for you."

Frowning, Moe said, "What the hell're you talkin' about, woman?"

In a voice choked with emotion, Nene rasped, "That's what you told my friend right before you crushed her throat, isn't it Moe? You don't remember that?"

Eyes widening, Moe said, "Oh, shit! You're the one! The little bitch who did Delilah last night!"

Nene chuckled hollowly, a sound like the echo from a crypt that sent a chill down Moe's spine, and said softly, "And Razz. I gave him a whole new perspective on things a little while ago. I think he's going to have a lot of fun in his new occupation. Or at least, he's going to bring a whole lot of fun to somebody else."

"Jesus Christ!" Moe exclaimed as they reached the car. "Who the hell are you!"

Nene just shook her head, and said, "You know, Moe. You just can't admit it to yourself, that's all. Now get in the car. From the passenger side, of course. Wouldn't want you over there where you might do something stupid, after all."

Eyes wide with apprehension, Moe did as she ordered, and, starting the car as she slipped in beside him, he said, "There ain't no way you can be that girl. That little red-headed cop. I killed her myself!"

Nene nodded slowly, and said, "Oh, yeah, I remember. Just a little twist of the neck, and 'Snap!' It was all over." And then, grinning maliciously in Moe's direction she added, "But it wasn't all over, Moe. Not really. Not yet. But it will be. Soon."

Moe swallowed nervously, suddenly recalling some of the tales his Creole grandmother, a practitioner of Santaria, had terrified him and his siblings with as children. Hadn't she told them that the dead could rise again? That, under the right circumstances, they could return from their graves to wreak vengeance upon the living? Of course, he'd dismissed such tales as he grew older, but they'd given him nightmares for years when he'd been little. And now one of those nightmares had come back and was sitting right beside him.

"Well drive, Moe," she said sardonically, waving the pistol grenade negligently in his direction. "We'll never get anywhere like this."

"You ain't gonna use that thing in here," he stammered. "No way!"

Nene just smiled and said, "Wouldn't I? After all, Moe, what've I got to loose? You already took everything that mattered."

Real terror gripping him now, Moe threw the car into gear and pulled out, muttering, "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. No way. No way this can be happenin'."

"Funny," Nene said sarcastically, "That's what I was telling myself a year ago tonight. What an odd little coincidence, don't you think?"

Moe just shook his head, sweating profusely now, and said, "This is crazy shit! Where the hell are we goin' anyway?"

Nene leaned back in the seat, apparently relaxing, and said, "Why, to see your buddy Tin Man, of course. You can't have a show without the whole cast present, now can you?"

Moe grunted and said, "Huh! Your makin' a big mistake there, girl! Tin Man's a big high muckey-muck with the Hong Triad these days. Ain't no way you can touch him!"

Nene sighed and said, "Oh ye of little faith. But don't worry about that part, Moe. Your job is just to get me there. You can do that, right?"

Moe nodded, eying her and the grenade nervously, and said, "Yeah, I can get you there. Not like you're leavin' me much choice, you little psycho."

Nene shook her head slowly and, in a wistful, mocking tone said, "That's just it, Moe. None of seems to have much choice these days. We're all just victims in the end, now aren't we?"

Moe could think of no reply for this, and as they drove on in silence, the crow soared along above, cawing loudly as it flew.