…NOW…

Meg yawned and stretched in the copilot seat in Django's cockpit, behind Jo. "Y'know, Jo, I am probably the last person on Earth to wonder how most teenage girls spend their Saturday mornings, but I'd wager it's not sitting in a giant robot waiting to fight another robot that's a no-show." She returned her attention to her console. Django could be driven by one person, and Jo had always taken the giant robot out alone. But their quarry had proven so elusive this time, Sei had decided it would be good to have a second pair of eyeballs watching Django's sensors while Jo did the driving and fighting. And, Meg had thought, that would make a nice change of pace from being captured by bad guys only to be rescued by Jo. What kind of merc was she if she couldn't help her friend at all?

"What is it with this thing?" Meg went on. "'Subject Zero' is right. It's definitely a zero." When Jo didn't answer - didn't respond at all - Meg added, "Jo, please don't fall asleep on me. I shudder to think what would happen if Django fell over because you passed out."

Jo didn't answer, and Meg hadn't been entirely kidding. Without the rush of adrenaline to push her into a frenzy - foaming at the mouth and threatening anyone close to her if Meg was threatened - Jo became a taciturn lump. So far that transition had always happened after returning Django to his hangar in their trailer, then Jo could veg out to monster movies. But it had never happened while Jo had been driving the pile of heavy machinery known as Django. They'd brought the robot to the abandoned factories because Bailon agents had reported sighting the cybot that may have contained Subject Zero, but there had been no sign in over and hour of searching the area. And now, Jo was getting bored.

"I'm beginning to think this is a wild goose chase," Meg went on, hoping her chatter would keep Jo awake. "I mean, this thing is little more than a cybernetic urban myth, right? Maybe we haven't caught it after a week because it doesn't exist." Sei had explained it to them like this: Whoever had put glowing brains into cybots had first had to figure out how to keep a human brain alive outside a human body. Legend had it there had been many attempts, but ultimately, one brain had survived. It had been christened Subject Zero.

'Zero?' Meg had asked. 'Why not "one"? But it wasn't their first test, right? Why not keep that number?'

'I don't know,' Sei had replied. 'Maybe someone thought that would sound cool. Now, if I may be allowed to continue? Thank you. The conventional wisdom was that Subject Zero was destroyed when they were done with it, but rumors have persisted that it took control of some machinery and escaped, maybe embezzling some money along the way. It went to ground and no one has seen any sign of it for almost a decade. But now, Bailon thinks it has resurfaced…'

'Let me guess,' Jo had said, 'they want it captured in one piece so they can figure out what makes these things tick.'

'Or at least get back more pieces than you usually bring back,' Sei had said, 'which usually isn't much, but they know who they're dealing with. They say they can make do with two full trash can's worth if it comes to it. That would be enough to gain some understanding of the technology and maybe who their parts suppliers are, which we could follow back to our enemy.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

That had been a week ago, and every sighting of Subject Zero's cybot had turned up nothing. Now Django stood in the multi-story shell of an abandoned factory, and it was looking like yet another "Zero hunt" would yield another zero. Meg couldn't say she minded not being shot at, but this was getting frustrating.

"Amy," Meg said, "do you have anything at your end?"

"Nothing," the eleven year old computer genius radioed from their trailer, "and I've got your area on visible satellite and infrared."

Jo said, "Maybe the intel was wrong." (And Meg thought, 'Well, at least she's still awake.')

"No," Amy said, "I went over it three times; it was-" She broke off as alarms went off in the cockpit. "Guys-it's right behind you-"

The cockpit shook as something slammed into Django. Then a feminine electronic voice sounded over the speakers: "Tag! You're it."

"'Tag'?" Meg wondered.

Jo had already swung into action: As Django swung around, it drew one of its huge handguns, gripped it in the Weaver stance, and they were facing their opponent: The Cybot had purple skin, was almost as tall as Django, and had what looked like a fighter plain cockpit in place of a head. It had only two arms, but they bristled with guns, and it had missile launchers on its shoulders. Fins graced its limbs and engines were on its back.

Meg groused, "A transformer. Great-" Then her seat jerked as Jo opened up with Django's canon. The cybot staggered back out the door, put one arm on its chest and reached towards the sky with the other one, then staggered off to one side, out of sight.

Meg said, "Did we get it? Is that it? Amy?"

"Guys it-" Amy broke off. "Guys, it vanished again!"

Under Jo's piloting, Django crept out the door and turned left and right, covering the area with its handgun. Nothing.

Jo cursed and slapped her console. "Target lost," she growled.

"Nothing here," Amy said. "If it's navigating by GPS, I'm not even getting pings off the satellite networks. This thing must have stealth technology coming out of its - hold on, Sei's calling in." A pause, then: "Guys, I'm routing Sei's cell phone call to you."

"Jo, Meg," Sei's voice said. "Status report."

"Target sighted," Jo reported in her typical monotone. "We engaged; it tagged us. I returned fire. Then it disengaged. Have lost all contact."

"Great," Sei groaned. "How bad is the damage? I'd promised Leo the weekend off after he picked up Kyo's new scooter."

"No, Sei," Meg said, "Jo means it literally tagged us: It hit Django and said 'Tag, you're it!' Then it ran off after Jo shot at it."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"That's weird…" Sei said. "Well, unless it ops up again, I don't see what else we can do today. You guys head back to the barn. I'm inbound with Kyohei; I want everyone there for his cooking test."

"Will do," Jo said. She worked the controls. Django crouched down and his wheels deployed from his feet; he began to roll away from the factory. "ETA five minutes."