Author's Note: At some point in the near future of this story series, Sam will gain an additional two theme tunes, "Angry" and "Get There" from the Album, 'Get There' by Boa. Also, Tucker will have his theme tune replaced with "Dance Until You're Dead" by Repliforce, solely for the reason because the title is suitably silly.
P.S. It might interest you to know that the original concept was to have Danny as the main bad guy with his ghostly alter-ego as the hero. Danny would have been insanely simplistic, believing that the only way to protect humans would be to completely massacre the robots. Aren't you glad I didn't go with that concept?

BEGIN TRANSMISSION #07

Blue Bow Geists guarded the corridor at every interval, not that the doctors or nurses noticed. As far as they were concerned, the Geists weren't even there. It was not necessary to even register their existence. What was more important was the running of the hospital as normal. The patients were key. Nothing else mattered, not even the patients' relatives, because no matter what, they could not be contacted anymore.

A janitor pushed his trolley through the corridor past the Geists, doctors and nurses. His head was lowered and his cap was pulled down tight over his head, almost as if he didn't want anyone to see his face. Furthermore, it seemed as if he was in a rush to get somewhere, as if there was something urgent that needed his attention.

"Excuse me," called out the janitor to a passing doctor. "But could you tell me where Doctor Manson is?"

"Doctor Manson?" exclaimed the doctor in disbelief with a frown on his face. He had been told by Blue Bow Officials to be wary of individuals that asked pertinent questions about members of hospital staff. All staff had been ordered to keep a look out for suspicious individuals and this short, black-haired janitor carried himself about very suspiciously. "And why do you need to know that?" he asked the janitor suspiciously.

For a moment, the janitor didn't say a thing, almost as if he was attempting to think up of some explanation for why he needed to see Sam's grandfather.
"Oh, yes, um," began the janitor, "I need to see him about the waste he's generating. Way too much. The Waste Disposal Manager is not very unhappy, but he's too busy to see him."

"Oh," said the doctor, but he didn't sound very convinced. "I think he's in his office."

"And that would be?" asked the janitor curiously.

"Down the corridor, first left, second right, it's the third door on the left," said the doctor calmly.

The janitor nodded appreciatively to the doctor.
"Thank you, sir," he said, before he turned round and pushed the trolley down the corridor as quickly as he could. Nearly halfway down, he stopped and turned to look at the doctor, whom was still looking at him suspiciously. He gave a nervous wave, then continued down the corridor.

One of the things that the doctor was very sure about was that he wasn't convinced about the janitor's story. When the janitor turned back round to continue walking down the corridor, he went over to a Blue Bow Geist.
"Follow him," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," droned the Geist, before it moved from its position from the wall and then marched down the corridor after the janitor.

The machine followed the janitor as best as it could. It hid in the shadows. It kept its distance. The Geist dogged the janitor all the way to Dr. Manson's office and observed it for any suspicious movements or behaviours. It stopped at a corner and peered round. The Geist saw the janitor look up and down the corridor suspiciously, before he turned the handle to Dr. Manson's office quietly.

Slowly, the janitor opened the door and peered in.
"Hello?" he called out into the dark office. "D…?" He didn't finish his sentence before a metallic hand clubbed him on the back of the head and he fell down unconscious.

Phantom stepped out of the Geist and then blasted it in the head. He watched it fall down before he entered the office.
"Grandpa?" he called out. There was no reply. He looked around and noticed that the office was a complete mess, as if there had been some kind of struggle. He looked back at the remains of the Geist and the unconscious janitor.

They were kind of a give away to his presence. He stepped back out of the corridor and looked up and down it. The coast was clear. He bent down and touched the Geist and both he and the Geist became intangible, sinking through the floor as if it were quicksand.

Moments later, Phantom leapt back up and did the same with both the janitor and his trolley. He took them both down two floors and dumped the unconscious janitor on an empty hospital bed, before he opened the door wide open so that attentive hospital staff would see him. Phantom then leapt at the wall and kicked off it; thus he propelled himself up into the air, became intangible and leapt through it.

Wall-kick was the best phrase to describe what he did. He landed seconds later back in his Grandfather's office and became tangible just before the Geist chip could overheat and shut down. After much practice, Phantom had figured out how long he could use his intangibility before the Geist chip automatically shut down; its use had become all too familiar to him after much experimentation on his trip through the Barbican. He knew almost instinctively when the Geist chip would shut off and now he voluntarily stopped using his Geist powers before the safety mechanisms kicked in; it meant less time was spent waiting for the Geist circuitry to come back online.

Suddenly, Phantom slipped on the floor, yet he steadied himself just in time and prevented himself from falling over.

Papers were strewn all over the floor. Books lay scattered across the floor. Drawers were pulled out and their contents stuck out like rubbish from an overflowing bin. A chair had been overturned. It looked as if someone had ransacked the place as well, as if they had been searching for something other than Dr. Manson.

None of the signs bade well and Phantom felt his heart sink at the very sight. He flicked a light switch on and then became invisible just in case the light, the broken Geist and the unconscious janitor attracted any unwanted attention. Tentatively, Phantom walked the office and looked for any signs of his Grandfather. There didn't seem to be any blood spilt, which was a relief to him.

Yet there also wasn't any sign of his adoptive parent. Phantom reasoned that there were two options; Blue Bow could have taken his Grandfather away or someone had ransacked the office whilst he was away. He just hoped that it was the latter, that if he waited long enough, his Grandfather would walk right through that door.

Of course, he wouldn't, would he? Not least because there was an unconscious janitor and a wrecked Geist lying near the doorway.

There had to be another way to find his Grandfather. He couldn't just search the Gordon King Hospital randomly. By the time he found his Grandfather that way, he would be too late. For all he knew, though, he might be too late anyway. What were the chances that the Blue Bow Army wouldn't have sent a few assassins to kill Dr. Manson at the same time they sent assassins to kill Sam and him?

Though, a small part of him told him that his Grandfather was still alive. He didn't know how or even why, yet Phantom felt as if his Grandfather by adoption was still alive and somewhere within the hospital. It was all a matter of finding him before he was assassinated by the Blue Bow soldiers.

Something suddenly caught Phantom's attention.

It was a faxed letter and on it was a black square-diamond logo with white edges and a green square-diamond shaped capital G with a red numeral 3 in its crux. The writing was almost faint, with the top of the letter almost illegible. Phantom could just make out the words, Green Gospel Group, near the top and something about Seattle. The rest of the letter near the bottom was more legible and it talked about how employees of all G3 Companies should evacuate Amitropolis.

What did that fax mean and why was it in his Grandfather's office? It made no sense, unless, his Grandfather was an employee of a G3 company. Phantom began thinking. Was it possible that his Grandfather had left without his sister and him? No, it wasn't possible. He cared for them. His Grandfather wouldn't have left without him, unless… unless he was forced to leave, which would explain the mess in the office.

None of it explained why the hospital-staff were still in the Gordon King Hospital. It didn't explain why they hadn't been evacuated too. No, something didn't seem right, but Phantom couldn't quite put his finger on it. What had happened there in the office?

"Hold it right there!" called out a voice, before there was a click as of a gun. "Put your hands up where I can see them! I've got a gun. Do it, or I'll shoot!"

Phantom put down the fax letter and then slowly raised his hands. He could have easily become intangible though, but he feared the person might fire blindly into the air in a desperate attempt to hit him. What he didn't need, of course, was to attract attention to his presence. That meant keeping the man from shooting.

"Now turn round, slowly," said the man.

Slowly, Phantom turned round, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. If he was to escape from the current situation, he had to be able to see what his odds were. When he knew his odds, he had to stall the man somehow and find a way to overshadow him like he had done the Geist.

"It's you!" exclaimed Dr. Manson. "The Phantom! What are you doing here?"

"G…" began Phantom, only to cut himself short. He wasn't sure whether he should tell his Grandfather about his secret identity just yet. After all, he didn't want to jeopardise his Grandfather's safety by entrusting him with such dangerous knowledge. "Doctor Manson, Sam's sent… I mean, your granddaughter sent me to find you. She's been worried after you."

The stern, cold expression on the doctor's face changed. A small faint smile slowly spread across his lips, as his countenance brightened and his eyes started to sparkle once more.
"So, she's still alive," he said thankfully. "And what of my grandson, Danny? Is he alive too?"

"Yeah, I'm…" began Phantom, only to cut himself short. "He's in better shape than Sam."

"Better shape?" exclaimed Danny's Grandfather. "What happened to her?" He then held up a hand to silence Phantom and called out, "Wait, I think I already know." He sighed heavily. "But I was told that she and my adopted grandson were dead. Yet…" He looked up at Phantom with questioning eyes, the hand holding the gun wavering nervously. "How can I trust you? The Blue Bow told me that my grandchildren were dead. Why should I believe you?"

Phantom thought for a while. Was it right for him to reveal his secret identity to his Grandfather or was that enough? Perhaps, if he told his Grandfather a little secret that only he, Danny, would know, that would help the old-man believe his words.
"Well, I…" he began and then trailed off. He wasn't entirely sure how to go from there on. "I guess I could tell you something only they'd know," he said quietly, then remained silent.

"Go on," urged Dr. Manson.

Thinking up of something was harder to do than Phantom thought. There were several things that he could say, but would his Grandfather dismiss them just like that? If he… No, that wouldn't work. Perhaps if he… No, not that either. But wait… Something was coming to him.
"Wulf!" he exclaimed. "Your grandson, Danny, told me how he always wanted a puppy but you didn't give him one."

Danny could remember the incident well. Instead, his Grandfather gave him a robotic puppy that he named Rush. It was an ancient thing, no more advanced than the robotic puppies of the early 21st Century. Yet it was the closest thing he had to a real dog.

"You gave him a robotic puppy instead and said he couldn't get a real puppy until he could prove he could take care of the robotic one," continued Phantom sternly, as his early memories within the Manson family came back to him. "He told me that he called it, Wulf, and he cared for it until one night there was a leak in the roof and water got into his circuitry and damaged him beyond repair."

Dr. Manson couldn't believe his ears. Danny told no one about that incident. The only other people that knew about it were his granddaughter and him.
"That's a strange thing to tell a complete stranger," he murmured under his breath. Then he smiled, as he lowered the gun. "My grandson must have trusted you a great deal to tell you that."

"Yes, sir," was Phantom's reply, as he slowly lowered his hands.

"It's good to hear that he's alive and my granddaughter as well," said Dr. Manson more cheerfully. "And where are they now and how is Sam?"

"Sam's fine. Her arm's in a sling but, w… she and Danny are safe," replied Phantom. "The US Army is taking them out of Amitropolis."

"That's good to hear," repeated Dr. Manson calmly, but something else nagged at his mind. It was the fact that General Albert Walker had lied to him. He couldn't believe that Albert Walker, one of his best friends, had lied to his face.

Albert Walker, Chris O'Donnell, Penelope Spectra, James Bertrand and Rupert Greenhithe had all been there with him at the original meeting at the Spencer Ashford Hotel in Seattle, when they first formed the Green Gospel Group. He had been friends with Albert for a long time, almost as long as he had been friends with Chris O'Donnell, the father of Madeline Fenton. It had been their dream to get rich together and live the American dream, to give their families everything they needed in life. He and Chris had founded Plasmius Pharmaceuticals together, whereas Albert Walker had gone to found the Blue Bow Security Firm, which had provided security for many of their research labs at no extra cost.

When his children had died, Albert had been there to attend their funeral and helped the family get through tough times.
"I don't believe Albert would do that to me," he said sternly. "Yet if what you say is true, then he has. He's betrayed my trust and threatened my family. But why? I don't understand."

"It doesn't matter now," said Phantom quickly in an attempt to hurry the old man along, for he didn't want to spend a second longer in Gordon King, what with Blue Bow Troops all over the building. "We've got to get out of here before General Walker sends soldiers after you too."

"No, I must see him myself!" protested Dr. Manson angrily with a shake of his head. "I will head to North Black Tower and demand an explanation from him." He then seemed to calm down for an instant, but that look of fury did not leave his face. "Young man, give this to my grandchildren," he said, as he brought out an envelope and held it in his outstretched arm. "It contains my shares in the Green Gospel Group and my will. Tell them that I love them."

Phantom looked hesitantly at the envelope, then back up at Dr. Manson with a horrified look on his face.
"But what about you?" he asked in concern, as he realised what his Grandfather intended to do. "You can't go heading off after Walker on your own and you can't leave your grandchildren behind! Especially after Sam lost both her parents." He shook his head, as he said, "I'm sorry, Gr… Dr. Manson, but I can't take that and nor will your grandchildren. They're not leaving the city without you and I'm not leaving this building without you."

He hoped that he wasn't being too stern with his Grandfather, but Phantom knew he had to make a point. There was no way that Dr. Manson could make a good parent if he abandoned Sam and him like that. Sam would be devastated if her Grandfather died. He would be devastated too.

"I see," said Dr. Manson, as he retracted his arm and put the envelope back into his pocket. "And what, may I ask, makes you so sure that they wouldn't leave?"

"If they were any sort of decent human being, they wouldn't bear the thought of leaving you behind," stated Phantom sternly. "They're family, Dr. Manson. They care for you as much as you care for them."

Dr. Manson remained silent for a while, much longer than Phantom liked.
"Yes, I guess you're right," he sighed heavily. "I… I guess I was letting my emotions get the better of me." He brought out a white handkerchief and mopped his brow. "Still, I must know why Albert did this," he said, as he looked around him. "And of course, whether this mess," he said, as he gestured around him, "is his doing."

"It's not my fault!" protested Phantom quickly out of a conditioned reflex. He couldn't help himself.

The very tone of voice Dr. Manson used was the sort that he always used to chide Danny. It was just habit to apologise and deny anything whenever Dr. Manson used that tone of voice. Once Dr. Manson used that stern fatherly tone whilst praising Danny; it had resulted in Danny apologising for getting good grades, much to the old man's and Sam's amusement.

"I didn't do that," protested Phantom. "It was like this when I got here! When I first saw this mess, I thought you'd been kidnapped or worse."

"Worse?" asked Dr. Manson curiously. "What do you mean by worse, young man?"

Phantom felt even more nervous than usual. It was as if he was being interrogated by some brutal guard, a brilliant white light shone in his face and his body strapped to a chair by chains. He didn't like the way his Grandfather almost always found a way to make him feel as if he was being given the eleventh degree.
"I mean, Walker wanted Sam and m… your grandchildren dead," he explained between stutters. "We… that is… they and me, we assumed he wanted the whole family dead."

"Nonsense!" interrupted Dr. Manson sternly. "He and I were the best of friends, Mr. Phantom. I see no reason as to why he would want me dead. Besides, second to Dr. Jack Fenton, I'm the best robotics expert FentonWorx has. There is certainly no logical reason as to why they would want me dead." He crouched down and picked up a few papers that had been knocked over to the floor. "So forget about trying to rush me out of here and help me clean this place up."

"But…" protested Phantom.

"You would leave all this to an old man to do?" asked Dr. Manson, as he gestured around him. "My back isn't what it used to be, young man. The least you could do, as a young gentleman, is help me clean my office."

Phantom opened his mouth and was about to say, 'Yes, Grandpa', but he stopped himself short.
"Yes, Dr. Manson," he said and bent down to help his Grandfather clear his office up. Perhaps, once they had finished, Dr. Manson would figure out what had been taken.

"We have received orders from Sir Greenhithe," said the soldier to the others assembled within the camp. "After we infiltrate the Five Towers, we are to perform a damage limitation exercise. All FentonWorx records are to be destroyed, specifically anything related to the Corporation's research into the Insurgent Virus. No traces of their research must be left." He paced up and down, as he continued, "Wipe all computers clean. Burn all papers relating to their finances and logistics. Any documents linking them to G3 companies must be eliminated. Any and all employees that performed research on the Insurgent Virus are to be silenced."

"We have received orders from the Senate," said the soldier to the others assembled within the camp. "All FentonWorx records are to be confiscated and sent to the Department of Homeland Security. Computers, folders, receipts, anything that relates FentonWorx to anyone or any organisation must be sent to Homeland Security HQ. You are not to read any records or files. You are to ensure that nobody reads them. Furthermore, any FentonWorx employees that were involved in research on the Insurgent Virus are to be sent immediately to Guantanamo, no questions asked. Understood?"

"I knew it," said Dr. Manson, as he straightened up slowly. "JASMINE's specs are missing."

That name seemed familiar to Phantom, as he put the last book back on Dr. Manson's shelf. Jasmine – where had Phantom heard that name before?
"You mean, Jasmine Fenton?" asked Phantom, when he remembered the name of the CEO of the FentonWorx Corporation. "Why would she have specs?"

"Of course, she would have specs. The Jasmine in Five Towers is a robotic copy of the original Jasmine Fenton," explained Dr. Manson calmly. "Why wouldn't she have specs?"

"Copy?" exclaimed Phantom. "I never heard about her being replaced."

"Nobody did," said Dr. Manson calmly with a shake of her head. "It's a closely guarded secret known only to me, Albert Walker and Dr. Madeline Fenton." He shut the drawer on his desk firmly, as he sat back down in his chair. "After Jack and Jasmine Fenton disappeared, Madeline feared Sir Greenhithe would appoint a new CEO that she wouldn't approve of. So she had me secretly build a copy of Jasmine and replace her with it."

Phantom had no idea. The implications of it all. He realised that if the population knew that the charismatic Jasmine Fenton, daughter of the Inventors of Robots and Cybernetic implants, was nothing but a fraud, support for her would wane.
"Then that means the current Jasmine Fenton isn't the legitimate CEO of the FentonWorx Corporation," exclaimed Phantom. "She's a fake! If the public knew…"

"I doubt the public will ever know," interrupted Dr. Manson. "You see, the Government won't allow it. Especially when they find out she's linked to a machine of the same name." He saw the bemused expression on Phantom and knew exactly what was going on through the cyborg's mind. "You see, the specifications that were taken from my office detail how Jasmine is linked to the JASMINE, the Judicially Approved Systematic Malicious Information Neutralisation Engine. I suspect FentonWorx wanted to destroy the specs just in case the Government managed to break through the Barbican and capture Gordon King."

"I don't understand, what does JASMINE do?" asked Phantom curiously.

Dr. Manson didn't build the three Engines and he wasn't sure who did. All he knew, was that he had been asked to build a robotic copy of Ms. Jasmine Fenton, and at the behest of Sir Greenhithe, he had been asked to secretly install a link between the Fake Jasmine and JASMINE. He had done both and he had regretted it and still regretted it.
"I only have a vague idea," was Dr. Manson's reply. "It's possible that whatever JASMINE does, it violates an International Treaty that the US signed or maybe even some Constitutional Rights. Whatever it does, you'll have to find out for yourself, and be very careful about it. Neither FentonWorx nor the Government will wish for you to figure out what JASMINE is."

Phantom thought quietly for a while, as he stood there in his Grandfather's office. He had a sneaking suspicion that the Government Forces would be delayed too much by the Barbican, despite his attempts to weaken the security at its southern-most wall. If FentonWorx was to be stopped, if the Fake Jasmine was to be exposed for what she really was, someone had to act quickly.

From Gordon King, it would only be a few minutes in the least to get to the Five Towers through the sky-bridge. He could get into Five Towers and take down FentonWorx's entire operation from there.

The Praetors were probably on FentonWorx's side. They would be of no help. Phantom was the only Demigeist left, the only one capable of infiltrating Five Towers by his own and getting to Central White Tower. What could the Government Forces do? The Barbican would delay them by hours, maybe even days. By then FentonWorx could get away with its plans, no matter what they were.

Besides, Phantom had a bone to pick with General Walker. His sister had nearly died in the attack against his family, an attack that Walker had no doubt ordered.
"You stay here, Grandpa," said Phantom sternly, without even realising what he had called Dr. Manson. He walked past his Grandfather sternly and with purpose, heading towards the door of the doctor's office. "I'm going to put an end to FentonWorx right now."

"You?" exclaimed Dr. Manson in surprise, completely forgetting what Phantom had called him. "But what can you do? You're only one man and barely old enough to be called a man at that. No one person can destroy the FentonWorx Corporation. It has grown too large."

"Well, someone's gotta try," retorted Phantom, as he stopped at the doorway. "Take care of the patients here and if I don't make it, take care of Sam."

The room was a gigantic circular affair, with evenly spaced archways, each with a thick pane of glass in it that looked out on to a thick metallic shutter. There were many pillars that stretched from the black, polished floor, like an ebony mirror, to the domed ceiling above.

In the centre of the room was a golden pillar with a throne carved into its base. Carved a good three metres above the top of the seat was a symbol that was like a cog and within its hole was a capital F atop a capital W; it was the symbol of the FentonWorx Corporation. And seated in the throne was the very person that ran the entire Corporation and the Metropolis over which it ruled.

Seated on the throne was the fake Jasmine, dressed all in white, seated still and silently with a stern expression on her pale face. Standing at the foot of the throne's small dais was General Walker, with his arms behind his back, his military uniform white and as pale as his face. Both of them looked at the huge screen that stood up from a slot in the ground and displayed a map of Amitropolis with several green dots and red dots spread across it.

"The last piece of evidence has been destroyed, ma'am," Walker told the fake Jasmine. "Even if the US Government takes over our bases, they will never learn of your connection to their precious JASMINE."

Fake Jasmine nodded her head and didn't even smile at the information.
"Dissent is not something we can tolerate," she said mysteriously. "The Government has been too weak so far. Its focus on oppressing the robot masses is limited. Dissent amongst humans is equally as damaging to the Nation as is dissent amongst robots."

"Of course, ma'am," agreed Walker with a nod of his head. "We can't treat humans and robots differently. One may be biological, the other may be mechanical, but both think the same way. Both are capable of breaking the rules and rules are not meant to be broken." He then looked back towards the screen in front of them. "It would seem that Government Forces have surrounded us, though," he pointed out.

The expression on Fake Jasmine's face didn't even change. There was no flicker and her eyes seemed dead.
"Impudent insects," sneered Jasmine without her facial expression changing. "Our troops have betrayed them. Their military bases are in disarray and their own Geists have turned against them. Yet still they decide to push on, leaving their fallen brethren behind." She fell silent for a while, before she continued, "What makes them continue fighting? Rage? Hope? It cannot be hope. There is no hope for the nation under the Government's rule. Only under my rule will there be hope for the masses."

She turned her head to look at Walker.
"It must be rage, must it not?" asked Fake Jasmine curiously. "They are angry at being betrayed and fight back against us in revenge. Can there be any other answer?"

"No, ma'am," was General Walker's reply. "There ain't none."

Fake Jasmine's head turned back round sharply.
"As expected," was her reply to Walker's statement. "Government Forces will be repelled by our troops. They only have humans left to fight for them. Their Geists are ours now. Humans will tire, but our machines will not. Eventually, they will fall."

Walker nodded in agreement.
"And even if they don't, they still won't be able to stop the activation of the CHAOS in time," he said calmly. "We have nearly gained control of all satellite networks. The CHAOS Broadcast will reach every inch of the globe." He smiled and said, "Your dreams of a world with order will soon come into fruition, ma'am. There will be no one left to break the rules. No one."

"Tell me, though, why is it that intruders have breached the building?" asked Fake Jasmine curiously.

"Intruders?" exclaimed Walker in disbelief. "Impossible," he protested angrily, "our troops are the best of the best. No one could have gotten in without us knowing." The smile on his face had disappeared and a terrible scowl overshadowed his pale face, as he thought about the very notion of an intruder getting past his troops. He couldn't believe it. Blue Bow was the best security force in the world, he was convinced of that.

"Regardless, we must be careful," retorted Fake Jasmine sternly and then remained silent.

"I will investigate the matter personally, ma'am," stated Walker sternly. "I doubt the intruders are anything we should be too concerned about. Maybe remnants of Skulker's Insurgents."

"That does not matter. Do not hesitate to destroy them," ordered Fake Jasmine.

The walls were mainly white with green wires running through it and green light running through it in pulses. At intervals, the wires would congregate in a circular hub that glowed an eerie green, before light shot off through wires that went away from these orb-like hubs. The entire thing made the walls look like huge bizarre huge discoloured circuit boards.

Phantom had tried touching those green wires but found himself incapable of doing so. Some translucent barrier, possibly of thick bullet proof glass, protected those wires. Maybe they were just for show, maybe they were something more, but whatever they were, he couldn't get at them.

More of the specialised Geists rushed down the corridor towards them. Each of them looked like riot police, but there was no mistaking that these were Geists. In his attempts to infiltrate the Five Towers, Phantom had come across many of these variants and dispatched many of them.

Rifles were aimed at Phantom and the Geists opened fire. Plasma bolts flew through the air, but none struck the cyborg. He leapt over them. His hands glowed with plasma energy and he returned fire. Phantom didn't make the mistake he made when he first encountered them. These Geists were much stronger than the ones he normally encountered and the cyborg let rip with a barrage of energy bolts that struck each Geist repeatedly.

One of the Geists suddenly went down and crashed down on to the ground like the heap of scrap metal it was. The other three Geist units continued firing desperately at Phantom. None of them relented. An energy bolt hit Phantom in the arm. Another hit him in the leg. More Geists ran down into the corridor, each the same unit as the other ones and every one as strong as the other.

Phantom didn't know what these new Geists were made of, he didn't know where they came from, but he knew that he couldn't take them all on. There was no way he could do that. If he wanted to survive to confront Walker and Fake Jasmine, he had to escape somehow.

Quickly, Phantom activated his Geist chip. He became intangible and ran straight towards the group of Geists in front of him. The cyborg hurled himself through the group of Geists and emerged on the other side. He ran. Phantom didn't even turn round to see what the Geists' response was, he merely ran down the corridor as fast as he could.

Lancer lowered the binoculars.
"Lord of the Flies! What is going on over there?" he wondered out loud, as he saw the dome of the Barbican opening up. "They're lowering their defences?"

The soldiers all around him, former Metropolitan Police officers, and US Army Officers, all turned to look towards the Five Towers. All of them saw the dome of the Barbican opening up like some strange flower with no regard to the buildings surrounding the Barbican. Tower blocks and buildings of concrete were crushed underneath the heavy weight of the walls, as the Barbican opened up to create something that resembled some kind of gigantic satellite dish.

None of them had seen anything so large before. It was ridiculously oversized, an amazing feat of human engineering that nobody could ever have imagined. Minds both human and robotic could not imagine such a thing existed. Its very existence seemed impossible.

"Jasmine," came the chants, that seemed to echo all around them. "Jasmine! Jasmine! Jasmine!"

"Chicken soup for the soul!" cried Lancer, as he shirked backwards as if the very sight of the Barbican opening up had revealed to him some obscene atrocity. "What's going on?" he cried out, as he felt a pain stab through his mind. He could hear the chanting of that name over and over again and it felt so intoxicating.

He wasn't the only one that felt compelled to chant out that name, to praise that name. All around him, soldiers dropped their weapons and stood up to salute the very image and memory of Jasmine Fenton enthroned within the Five Towers. It didn't matter that she was a fake; no one knew.

Outrage filled Lancer's mind, as it did with all those that stood there. How could people dare to question the FentonWorx Corporation's authority? It was the Government and Lady Fenton was their Leader. The other Government was too full of crackpot liberal nuts that had questioned their sensible, infallible leader for too long. Did they not know that Lady Fenton was appointed President of the United States by God? Who were they to question her methods of bringing peace to the world, after all, the end should justify the means should it not?

It was all so simple to them now. You were either for Lady Fenton or with the Insurgents. There were no two ways about it. You couldn't have your cake and eat it. Never before was the issue on Insurgents so clear cut. Those who questioned Lady Fenton or pointed out any potential flaws to her plans were pessimists and aiding the Insurgents. No one should have been able to question Lady Fenton's dreams and no one would.

"It is un-American and unpatriotic to question the President."

Ten Geists suddenly rushed out in front of Phantom and formed a robotic barrier in front of him. There appeared ten more Geists behind him. The front five of each group of Geists knelt down, with the rear five of each group standing tall. All aimed their plasma cannons at Phantom and both groups were staggered in such a way that if they were to miss, the lasers wouldn't hit any of the Geists on the opposite them.

Phantom realised that there was no way he could take them down. Each one of these Geists had such tough exterior bodies that it took at least ten shots to destroy them. If he were to try and destroy them all, he'd have to fire off two hundred shots and he wasn't sure if he could throw that many plasma bolts at the Geists.
"I wish I hadn't overheated my Geist chip," he sighed out loud.

A howl permeated through the air and two robotic dogs, like metallic wolves, leapt over the Geists. They came from either end of the corridor and rushed straight at Phantom. Both leapt up at him and bit down on him hard; their metallic teeth seemingly penetrated his armour and their weight combined prevented him from moving.

"Hey, let go!" cried out Phantom, as he tried to shake them both off. "Stop it! That hurts!"

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" cried Star pathetically.

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening," repeated Paulina over and over again, as she rocked herself back and forth with ears covered tightly by her hands.

"We are so going to die," panicked Dash. "We're history. We're toast!"

Sam didn't understand what was going on. From her window, she had seen the Barbican walls open up. She had seen the soldiers outside suddenly turn on those inside and attack the hospital. Why were those in the hospital unaffected and what were the odds that Dash, Kwan, Paulina and Star were in the same building when the CHAOS became operational again? And…
"Would you guys just shut up?" shouted Sam angrily. "You're not helping." She then turned her attention back towards Tucker, as his eyes scanned the screen of his laptop. "Tucker, you getting close yet?" she asked her friend curiously.

A part of her knew what the answer to her question would be. It had been the same for half an hour. There was no respite. Why would there be? After all, they were standing in the city limits of Amitropolis, a metropolis that had grown and swallowed up cities and towns whole. Hope was a thing of dreams in Amitropolis and dreams did not exist. Amitropolis was a nightmare made real and tangible that dashed dreams and hopes to pieces.

"'fraid not, Sam," replied Tucker with a shake of his head. "Their security's tough."

The plan had been so simple. It had come to Sam in a dream, as she lay there on bed. In it, she had been floating in some kind of darkness. Above her and below her had been a grid of purple lines and surrounding her in the distance had been the glowing figures of binary numbers, 0s and 1s that rained down or rose upwards like steam.

Her surroundings had seemed so foreign to her that she had come to the conclusion that she must have been dreaming. Yet the sensation of floating had seemed so real to her and the air all around her had seemed alive with electricity. Despite having been a dream, Sam had felt the strange ethereal nature of her surroundings. And the voice, the way it had echoed through the void, the way it had spoken to her, it had seemed so real.

When the roaring sound of the Barbican opening up awoke her, the words of the dream had stayed fresh in her mind. It was simple. Hack into the FentonWorx Computer Network, it had to be connected to the outside someway, and try to disable it. FentonWorx loved huge centralised systems; it was only logical that everything within Five Towers was linked to one gigantic centralised system.

"Would you hurry, up, Techno-Geek?" cried out Dash angrily.

"Hey, shut it!" snapped Sam angrily, as she whirled round to glare at the blonde-haired jock angrily. "He's doing his best to save our butts here," she snarled at Dashiel Baxter, "which is more than I could say for you." She couldn't believe that she had once hung out with him when she had been popular, all those days ago. Sam couldn't believe how shallow she had been and hated herself for it.

"I'm through!"

The robotic dogs held onto Phantom tightly, as the Geists charged their plasma cannons.

Phantom felt as if he were standing in front of a firing squad, which is essence what the Geists were. They weren't there to capture him and interrogate him; these Geists were there to execute him right there on the spot. Shoot first, ask questions later. Although to be frank, Phantom severely doubted they would do the latter. Just shoot. Ask no questions.

Lasers flew through the air.

The cyborg cried out.

A barrier of energy appeared in front of Phantom and the lasers struck it. They rebounded off the shield and struck the Geists in front, shredding them apart. Lasers struck him from behind and pummelled into his metallic armour. The searing pain jarred his teeth. He felt as if the burning lasers had punched holes straight through his metallic body. Pain and fear numbed his mind. He lashed out blindly.

Lights flickered and then the entire corridor was plunged into darkness. The only illumination came from the glowing lasers that flew through the air and then the two green glows that ended in explosions.

In the dark confusion that ensued, Phantom had managed to destroy the robotic dogs with two well-aimed blasts to their heads.

"And where do you think you're going, home-slice?"

Something wrapped around Phantom's leg, caught him and tripped him. He fell flat on his face.
"What?" he exclaimed in disbelief, as he got up and looked behind him. Without warning, he was suddenly dragged backwards, as more metallic tentacles ensnared his body and restricted themselves around his metallic limbs. "Who are you? Let go of me!"

"Aw, I'm hurt you don't remember me, dawg," taunted the robot. "And after I taught you so much."

There was a sudden glow and in the eerie green illumination, Phantom saw the outline of the robot's face. He recognised the glass dome and the brain floating inside it. Phantom recognised those sunglasses and he recognised the crooked smile and white hair of the Insurgent robot, Technus.

"Let's rock!"

END TRANSMISSION #07