Alright, Chapter 6 up. Read, enjoy and please review.

She lay at the center of a vast virtual web of data and peripherals, like a black widow waiting for prey. Her body, still battered and torn, rested in a fetal position, inert in a bath of saline, nutrients, and specially tailored nanos, healing at several times it's normal rate. Even her brain, still critically damaged, lay mostly dormant, only the most essential functions still active. But her consciousness soared.

The bolthole she'd had built, nestled deep in the old sewers far under the streets of the ruined Kanto district, was a veritable pillbox . It sat at the center of a vast maze of corridors, tunnels and cisterns, all watched over by covert surveillance devices, waldos and smart booby traps which were monitored and controlled from the command center where Jillian lay, a part of the system herself.

A thick fiber optic lead ran from a concealed plug at the base of Jillian's skull straight into an I/O port on the mainframe, hardwiring her in. It was a mildly illegal piece of street installed cybernetics that she'd never bothered to tell the late Master Asakawa about, something rather difficult for an android to acquire, but something she'd thought might come in very handy in a crisis.

Now her mind, freed of the limitations imposed by her ravaged brain, running on a faithful emulation of her neural pathways, expanded to occupy and control the vast web of sensory devices and peripherals around her.

She'd taken pains to update the emulation program before installing herself, incorporating what she considered the positive changes to her neural pathways so that she wasn't trapped inside that same cold emotional box. Also, instead of completely merging her consciousness with the complex's LAN, she oversaw operations from a virtual environment which simulated her normal sensorium, though greatly heightened. To her, it felt as though she were sitting in an office chair, handling an enormous data stream through her familiar ether link.

She did this both because it was more comfortable for her, a creature whose consciousness was, after all, created in the image of man's, and because she was unsure of just what she might become otherwise.

As she monitored the myriad bytes of sensory data pouring in, Jillian paid special attention to one area. In the room next to her, the bolt hole's living area, Aiko slept restlessly, tossing and turning and crying out occasionally.

More than anything then, Jillian wished that she could be beside the little girl. Even before, it would've caused her distress to see her little mistress upset. Her programmed imperatives would've goaded her to do something to help. But now, more than that, she just wanted to be near, to be able to hold her and let her cry her grief out on her shoulder when she awoke.

She'd had vague stirrings of such things before, but now the feelings were there in full force, so strong that she almost didn't know how to deal with them. Reflecting on that, she wondered how another boomer might cope with the situation.

'Maybe,' she thought, 'this is part of what sends some boomers rogue. Maybe a less advanced AI or a boomer who hasn't had such positive interactions might not be able to handle it at all.'

And on the heels of that thought come another far more disturbing.

'What makes me think I can handle this? I wasn't designed to. Maybe it's just a matter of time before I lose control and do whatever it is they think I've already done. Could that happen? Could I hurt Aiko? Perhaps even- kill her?"

But that thought brought such a stab of pain, a virtual dagger to her cyber heart, that Jillian felt tears well up in her simulated eyes.

'No!', she thought vehemently. 'There's no way that could happen! There's no way I'll let that happen! I- I- love Aiko, and I won't let anything hurt her again, least of all me!'

The old neighborhood really hadn't changed much, Priss thought. The nether regions of the Kanto Fault were still just as dank, filthy, and foreboding as she remembered them, and just as tainted with bad memories. It wasn't far at all from where she stood to the Kanto Dump. The place where she'd died.

'Where I killed her. Sylvie…' Priss thought with a lump in her throat, and then, 'Dammit, it's been almost six months! Get over it! You've got work to do!'

With that, she turned her attention back to the narrow, dingy street around her.

'Shit, what a mess,' she thought as she examined the dark stains and gory chunks on the pavement. 'Guess that little punk back at the bar wasn't lying. They really did run into her. Huh! Good thing it was only Nurikabe getting chewed up. I'd hate to think anybody I actually gave a shit about might've gotten screwed.'

As she looked around, Priss charted out the engagement in her mind.

'Hmmm... looks like they tried their usual thing, the dumb bastards. Huh! Brass! .45, looks like. Way to go, dumb asses. Might as well have thrown rocks. Just a miracle the bitch didn't kill you all, I guess.' And then Priss frowned as another part of the punk's story came back to her.

'He said she was still carrying the kid's body, that she even turned to cover it with her own when the lead started flying. What the hell? She sliced her up, carried her off, and then works like hell to protect what's left? That just doesn't make any damn sense.'

Priss shook her head, and thought, 'Shit, something's just not right with this. Something's missing. And I'm no goddamned detective, so it's gonna have to hit me in the face before I figure it out. But I can sure as hell follow a blood trail...'

Priss looked around one more time, then followed the trail of dark stains down the ruined street and on into the dilapidated maze of alleys into which it led.

As she walked, Priss pulled a slim cell phone from her jacket pocket, hit the speed dial, and waited.

"Yes?" said the low, feminine voice on the other end.

"Yeah, it's me," Priss replied.

"Good," the other said. "I was getting worried. Where are you?"

"Oh, hell," Priss replied. "I couldn't tell you even if I had map and a GPS. I'm way the hell in the middle of nowhere down in the Canyons. It's kind of hard to pin it down any further than that."

"Hmmm... well, never mind. Just stay on the line long enough and I can triangulate on you from the cell transmission. What've you got?"

Priss grinned and said, "Jackpot. Looks like she definitely came this way. Got a bunch of dead gang bangers to back that up. But there's something weird about it-"

"In what way?" the other said.

"Well... Nene said that the cops were pretty sure she killed the girl, right?"

"That's my impression. Of course, she also took the body with her, but from the 911 recording that Nene smuggled out, it certainly sounded to me as though she mauled the girl. And you have first hand knowledge of what those energized nails can do to unprotected flesh."

"God," Priss said quietly. "Well, she must be even crazier than ADP thinks she is then."

"What do you mean?" said the other, puzzled.

"I mean, she was still carrying the kid's body when the damn Nurikabe ran into her! That's what I mean!"

"Are you sure of that?" the other said, suddenly concerned.

"Yeah," Priss replied disgustedly, "I'm sure. Little bastard I talked to said she was. He even said she seemed protective of it, took a few rounds that would've hit it if she hadn't twisted around. Jesus, what kind of messed up boomer are we chasing here! What the hell do you make of that shit!"

"As I see it, there are two possibilities," the other said.

Priss sighed resignedly and said, "Ok, you gonna share or are you just going to keep it to yourself?"

Slightly annoyed, the other said, "Aren't we impatient today. Alright, then, first possibility: after she had her psychotic episode and killed both her master and his daughter, she may have partially recovered her mental equilibrium, enough so to feel some analog of guilt for what she'd done. In that case, it might make sense for her to still be carrying the body and even to be still protecting it. Somehow, she may be trying to make amends, or maybe to pretend that nothing ever happened."

As the other had spoken, Priss had felt her gorge rise. "God, you have a horrible imagination. Do I dare ask what your other possibility is?"

"Oh, that one's more interesting than horrible. What if the little girl is still alive?"

"Huh?" Priss said, bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about? You just got through saying that the boomer tore her up, right?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

Exasperated now, Priss said, "Ok, then how the hell could she still be alive? Like you said, I know what those claws can do, and there's no way an eight-year-old girl could survive an attack from those!"

"That's the interesting part, now isn't it? But as Sherlock Holmes posited, once you've eliminated all the other possibilities, whatever's left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. I wouldn't say that we've reached that point yet, but we shouldn't blind ourselves to the possibility that little Aiko may still be alive. Or at least, she may have been when this gang encountered them."

"Well, that would sure put a different spin on things," Priss said. "And it means that time might be a lot more important than we thought. If she is still alive, there's no telling how long she'll stay that way."

"Yes," the other said, "that certainly follows."

"Huh! Well, that's enough for me then! Gotta go!"

"Hold on!" the other said, "Do you need back-up out there?"

"Me! Need backup!" Priss exclaimed. "Let's see, I'm following a psycho boomer's blood trail through the shittiest part of Mega Tokyo, all by myself without any equipment. Naw, I think I'll be fine, thanks!"

"Ah...right," said the other. "I'll send them out now. She's already suited up and he'll be bringing yours. Try not to do anything too psychotic until they show up, alright?"

Priss smirked, and said, "Oh, sure. Not a problem, boss. Well, I gotta get off here now. Got stuff to do. Bye!"

"Now wait a minute!" the other said quickly. "What are you-!"

She was cut off abruptly as Priss hit the 'End' key.

'Ok, enough of that,' she thought. 'Back to business!'

Turning her attention back to the broken, litter-strewn pavement in front of her, she picked up the gory trail once again and began to follow.

As she made her way quickly and silently from roof top to roof top, leaping here, swinging there, subconsciously reveling in the quiet power her hardsuit imbued in her, dark thoughts clouded Linna's mind.

'Priss, why are you so stupid! Why do you always, always DO this! God, don't you know what it does to us when you run off alone like this? Couldn't you, just once, wait to go charging off until someone's with you? If you get yourself killed I'll- Well, I don't know what I'll do!'

And then, wandering into more comfortable territory, she thought, 'At any rate, I hope she's got a real lead on that boomer. Maybe I can't do anything to bring Aiko back, but I can definitely make sure she never hurts anybody else ever again. I can't believe she almost had me fooled. I actually thought she might be different. Boomers! All they ever do is bring grief! Even boomers like Sylvie and Anri! I know it wasn't their fault, but they broke Priss's heart, and she still isn't over it! Not to mention all the victims of the so-called 'Vampire Killer'. We'd all be better off if boomers had never been invented!'

As these black thoughts stormed through her mind, her pace gradually increased until she was practically flying across the skyline, all thought of stealth forgotten. Only the lack of interested observers there in the Canyons kept her from being noticed.

Finally, she came to the place Sylia had fixed as Priss's last known location. Of course Priss was long gone, but the gory trail of red-brown she'd followed was still apparent.

'Well,' Linna thought, 'subtle as usual, I see. This shouldn't be too hard.'

And with that, she bounded off, hoping to find her friend before anything else found her.

Nene was bored as they sped down the highway. Unbearably bored.

'Why the heck did Leon even bring me along? He's done all the interviewing. All I've done is jot a few notes! He could've done that! And we're still just shooting in the dark! Well, mostly, anyway.'

Asakawa's father had been a complete bore, though Nene was kind enough to chalk some of that up to his loss. But he had been able to shed some light on a couple of points.

First, despite having never liked the boomer (he didn't like or trust them just on principal, he'd said), he'd never had any reason to question either her competence or loyalty. If anything quite the opposite, or, as he'd put it, "She was cagey. Cool, efficient, and intimidating as hell. In fact, her mere presence was a deterrent. And she was as faithful as a golden retriever, especially to little Aiko. In fact, she even took a bullet for my son once."

The old man had scowled then, and finished by saying, "I suppose that just goes to show how far you should trust a machine."

Second, he'd clarified a few things about the next person on their list.

"Jim Tanaka," he'd said nodding, "A good man. A good chauffer and a damned good back up security man as well."

Leon had frowned, and said, "Really. How's that?"

"Well," the old man had said, "he's got a good background. Comes from San Francisco, originally, spent about ten years in the American Army. Worked in special forces, black ops, all that sort of thing, and then he did some time in their secret service. I suppose he was happy enough with that, but there was an incident, no fault of his, mind you, but his principal didn't make it. That was a virtual kiss of death for his career, but Akira had met him a couple times when he was in Washington, and he thought highly enough of Jim to offer him a job. As I said, a good man. I don't suppose there was much he could have done, especially since that thing was technically his boss. Nonsense, as far as I'm concerned, putting a machine in charge of a man."

Still frowning and clearly impatient now, Leon had said, "Well, I can definitely agree on that point. But you say Tanaka was back up security, right? So how well did he know the boomer?"

"Fairly well, I suppose. He always said that she was decent to work for. As decent as a machine could be, I suppose."

"OK," Leon had said, suddenly excited for some reason. "How about this then. Did he ever mention them having back up plans for getting Mr. Asakawa out of a jam? Escape routes, safe houses, things like that?"

The old man considered for a moment, and then said, "Well, I'm certain they had plans like that. My people always did. And if anyone besides her would know, it would be Jim. But why worry about that now? It's a bit late, isn't it?"

Leon had grinned humorlessly, and said, "Maybe for Mr. Asakawa, but think about this. If you were a crazy, beat up boomer on the run and knew of a safe place to hide, where would you head?"

The old mad had just stared off into space for a moment, and then said, "Well I'll be damned."

Without a reply, Leon had stood, grabbed Nene, and headed for the door, saying, "C'mon, corporal, we just got us a lead!"

"Well, I don't care!" Linna yelled. "You should've waited there for me! Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Oh, shit!" Priss replied, rolling her eyes heavenward in exasperation as she locked her helmet into place. "It wasn't that big a deal! It's not like I chased her into the goddamned sewer!"

"No," Mackie interjected sarcastically, "you just followed a trail of blood and gore from a couple of her victims. No chance of running into her along the way, or anything..."

"You stay out of this!" both Linna and Priss shouted in unison, startling Mackie almost out of his seat.

"Look," Priss said, "what's done is done. Why don't we just crawl on down that damned hole and find the crazy bitch so we can go home instead of standing here arguing about stupid shit! Sound like a plan?"

Linna sighed resignedly, and said, "Ok, fine! But Priss..."

"Yeah?" Priss replied.

Linna hesitated a moment, looked down at the ground, and then said huskily, "I want point. When we find her, I want the first shot. I-!"

Her voice broke for a moment, and then she continued in a whisper. "I want her to pay for Aiko." And in an even lower voice she murmured, "For Irene."

Priss frowned in concern, and said, "Hey, easy now. I'm supposed to be the killer, remember?"

"Don't," Linna said flatly. "You didn't know her, Priss. She was just a kid. She didn't deserve what was done to her. Nobody does! And worst of all, she thought that thing was her friend. Hell, for that matter, so did I! Priss, I- it scares me how much I want that boomer. I won't be able to sleep at night until I know she's been put down. That she can't ever do to anyone else what she did to Aiko."

For once, Priss was speechless. And she was glad for the opaque visor that hid the stunned expression on her face.

'Holy shit,' she thought. 'I never thought I'd see her like this. Even after Irene died, she was the one who talked me out of going off half-cocked. Either this hit something deep, or it's been building up for a while. Either way, I'm gonna have to watch her... huh! Talk about role reversal...'

Aloud, she said, "Well, OK. Lead on, then."

Linna nodded, and began to climb down the gaping black manhole into the sewers below.

"Well, here we are," Leon said as the road chaser rolled to a stop.

"Ugh! Nice neighborhood," Nene said as she took in the squalor around them.

"Yeah, well, this is one of the areas Tanaka mentioned, and-" Leon began just as his cell phone began to ring.

"Aw, hell," he muttered, "I hope it's not the Chief... McNichol."

"Hey, man," the voice on the other end said, "guess what?"

"Fusikawa," Leon said. "What's up?"

"Dude, what's not up is a better question."

Leon frowned, and said, "OK, what do you mean by that?"

"I mean that scene was totally jacked, man! What else would I mean?"

Hesitantly, Leon said, "OK...and?"

"Well, I've been going over everything with a fine toothed comb all night and most of today. Here's what we've got so far. The computer nerds upstairs are absolutely sure that the house security was spoofed. The whole sequence we pulled for the time-stamp covering the murder was slapped together and edited. A top-rate job, but it didn't stand up to frame-by-frame analysis. Or at least that's what they're saying. "

"OK," Leon said, "That's weird enough. So what else have you got?"

"Oh, things on my end are even better, man. It looks like the Asakawa family wasn't dining alone last night."

"Say what?" Leon said.

"Yeah, I found all kinds of interesting shit on the floors and walls. Turns out that not all of that boomer blood came from our girl. Somebody did a top-notch sanitizing job on the place, but I know all the tricks. I found traces not only from another android, but from two different combat-rated models. The shit that passes for their blood has different weights and properties for each model, kind of like different motors use different types of oil, and there's no mistaking one for another."

"Yeah, I know that," Leon said. "So what else? You don't sound like you've run down yet."

"Not even, man. Here's another random bit of weirdness. Asakawa's wounds. Three guesses what was wrong there."

Frowning, Leon said, "OK, Fusikawa, enough bullshit. Spill it for me."

"OK, OK. Jesus, can't a guy enjoy his work anymore? It's just this. Sure, it looks like all of the lacerations Asakawa had came from a 33C's claws, so it's a fair bet that was our girl. But how come two of those wounds, the chest cut and the eye stab, were done un-energized? It's pretty easy to tell whether there was juice in those things when they cut, and the cauterization you'd expect at the edge of the wounds just isn't there. Now, the cut that took the top of his head off is another story. That one was definitely done while the nails were energized, and from the angle force was applied, it looks like she ripped 'em straight out and up after the eye jab."

"Christ," Leon said. "Glad I've got a strong stomach, but you've got Nene looking a little green. OK, so what? So she wanted it to hurt a little more? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Aw, c'mon man!" Fusikawa said in disgust. "Give me a little credit. No, the deal is, in that model, when those claws are out, they're on! It's not a voluntary thing, man, once they're deployed, they're energized. The only way they wouldn't be is if the damn boomer were forced into shut-down or maintenance stand-by while they were extended!"

"Yeah, OK," Leon said, "So she went to slice him, he shot her, she shut down, but followed through…" And then, frowning, "No, that doesn't add up. There were seven rounds expended from that damn gun, and we only recovered one round from the wall, so the other six had to hit something… I can't see him racking off six hits on a crazed, charging boomer. Hell, a seasoned line trooper is lucky to do that! And then, even if we give him that, and figure she was shutting down as she hit him, that gives her one swipe, either the head or the chest, not both. And if she did shut down, when did she slice up the girl? Shit, man, I see what you mean. This is coming apart at the seams."

"Tell me about it. Oh, and here's a nice one. That blood stain on the wall, the one that we figured belonged to the little girl?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Leon said.

"Well, it looks like we got that part right. Lab-grade gene tests confirmed that. But here's the thing. There's not enough blood! Not to account for a kid her size bleeding out. And no real blood trail, either, just a few drops here and there. Not to mention the fact that there aren't any high-speed splatters with the kid's blood anywhere in the room. In fact, there's nothing there to suggest the kid was cut at all. The patch on the wall's consistent with a blunt trauma, probably her head bouncing off it if I had to guess. And from those other little drops I mentioned before, I'd guess that she got up and walked around afterwards."

"Holy shit!" Leon said. "Are you telling me she was still alive? When the boomer carried her out?"

"Yeah, it looks that way. And here's a final bit of weirdness for you. Speaking of blood splatters…"

"I'm waiting, man." Leon said impatiently.

"Well, the GSR test on Asakawa was positive. He definitely had the pistol in his hand when it went off. But that's only half the story. He also had high-velocity blood splatters from our girl all over him, consistent with her being, oh, maybe arm's length away for several shots. That's not consistent with her charging, it's more like she was just standing in front of him sucking up lead. And here's the best part. Those blood splatters? They're not complete."

"OK," Leon said, puzzled, "You got me there. What the hell do you mean, not complete?"

"I mean," Fusikawa said, "that something was in the way! Or, more to the point, somebody! The splatters on his clothes and face are incomplete in just the right way to suggest the outline of another body between him and the source of the splatter! And here's the kicker! The splatters on his gun-hand are missing in just the right places to practically draw out the shape of a smaller hand overlaid on his! Do you get it now?"

"Yeah," Leon said slowly and thoughtfully, "I think I've got it. This whole thing's a goddamn set-up. Asakawa got a visit from three unfriendly boomers last night. Not rogues, but working for somebody and working together. That somebody wanted Asakawa, the girl and the boomer dead, but they didn't want it to look like a hit, so they set it up to look like she went nuts. Only, from what you've told me, it looks like things didn't exactly go the way they'd planned, not if there was combat boomer blood on the floor. So, figure that she had a little more fight in her than the other boomers thought, and after they used her to kill Asakawa she managed to cut all three of them up some. She must have either disabled them or caused enough ruckus to scare them off, and then grabbed the girl and ran. Good damn thing, too, if there was someone hanging around to rearrange the scene. You can bet that whoever that was would've finished them if they'd gotten the chance. Sumbitch."

"Yup!" Fusikawa agreed, "That's exactly what I said, man!"

"No, that's not what I meant." Leon said, troubled. "What I meant was, who says that whoever set this up is through? The only way for them to clean up their mess is to reach the boomer and the girl before anybody else does. They hoped they'd pulled the wool over our eyes well enough that we wouldn't ask too many questions after somebody came forward with a dead boomer and the dead girl she'd been carrying around. Even if they know that we've figured out more than they wanted us to, they're still better off if they can get to them before we do. That boomer and that little girl probably have a whole shit load to say that somebody doesn't want said."

"Damn, I hadn't thought of that!" Fusikawa said. "You'd better get moving then, man!"

"No shit." Leon said as he hit the 'end'key'. "No Shit." And then, looking at Nene, who'd listened to the speakerphone conversation in stunned silence, he said, "Well? Got any impressions of your own?"

"Oh, my God," Nene said, "We got taken for a ride on this, Leon."

Leon shook his head, and said, "That's for damn sure. I guess this changes the whole ball of wax, doesn't it?"

Nene's eyes widened even more as she thought about her teammates and what they were probably doing right at that moment, and she said, "Oh, yeah, it changes everything. Um, Leon, I guess this is a bad time, but I, uh, really have to, umm..."

"What?" Leon said. "Spit it out already."

"Well, I need to use the-"

"Oh, you need to pee!" Leon interjected. "Well, hell, go ahead! There's plenty of alleyway out there. But hurry up!"

"Gee, mister social graces..." Nene muttered as she climbed out of the road chaser and ducked behind the nearest refuse pile.

As soon as she was sure she was out of sight, Nene withdrew her cell phone from an inside jacket pocket and hit a much used speed dial key.

"Yes," the familiar voice on the other end said two rings later.

"Hey, it's me," Nene said. "You've got to get a hold of the others! I've found out some stuff they really need to know...!"