《M.O.T.H.E.R. Reborn》


 Chapter 1 - The Meeting of Strangers

    Commander Barro Suta strode atop the parched concrete of the city sidewalk, moving swiftly with short, march like steps. Directly above her, the sun exuded its rays upon her back, wrapping her in an unbearable vice of sweat and discomfort. She tugged on her collar, trying to alleviate the unpleasant sensation, but without much success. She could see that other people around her were bothered by the heat as well, sweating profusely as she herself now was. It was quite a new experience for her, dealing with so much heat. Barro wondered if it was always this hot in Southern California.


    She plodded onward nevertheless, her eyes fixed dead ahead of her. Through the convection currents rising from the baked tarmac, she saw the street stretching like a pathway through the forest of giant office buildings lining its sides. The City of Cronus boasted itself as being the home to some of the tallest buildings in the world, and so far it seemed to be living up to its reputation.


    Barro suddenly felt the temperature drop as a dark shadow passed overhead ushered in by a slight breeze. Instinctively she looked towards the heavens, seeking to measure how long the lofty guardian would protect her from the sun. She need not have squinted; the thick gray mass of clouds had blocked the burning orb completely. The cloud was wide and heavy just as Barro had hoped. It nearly filled the entire sky as it stretched Southwards towards the urban horizon. A strong wind blew from its direction and Barro felt the cool threat of rain come with it. The clouds moved quickly overhead as the she continued to walk. Within only a few minutes they had blanketed the entire city, covering the metropolis in a thick gray mass, cutting it off from the light of the sun.


    Drizzle began to fall in a slow mist as Barro spotted an overhanging verandah and rushed towards it. She quickly stepped under its protection just as a strong gust blew a shower of fresh rain droplets in her direction. Were she not dressed in uniform, Barro would have gladly stayed to welcome the fresh downpour of relief, but for now she would have to be content merely to watch it. She rested her gray duffel bag next to her, just as the first few drops began to fall.


    A sharp clap of thunder hailed the arrival of the cloud burst. lt fell suddenly in a massive sheet, filling the air with a fearful hiss. Steam began to rise from the parched street as the gutters drank their fill of the newly fallen beverage.


    The wind blew through the cooling mist of rain, bringing with it the smell of steam and oily tarmac. Barro moved directly under the verandah as the wind began to kick the rain towards her. She could see almost nothing now. The rain poured steadily, bouncing off car rooftops with a tremendous drum. The entire sky had turned dark gray, giving the day an almost dusk like appearance.


    Barro watched as human shadows raced for shelter through the slow moving caravan of honking vehicles. But one figure stood out among them, choosing to walk rather than run. The figure approached slowly, moving in her direction, protected by the umbrella held high over its head. Barro could now see that the figure was that of a woman.


    Growing closer, the woman finally stepped through the curtain of falling water and joined Barro underneath the verandah.


    "Ah, that''s better.'''' The woman sighed in relief, shaking her umbrella. "The weather changes so quickly these days."


    Barro glanced towards her and smiled politely.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The woman looked to be in her early forties. Her face was attractive and gentle and seemed to carry a sense of caring and calmness. Her jet-black hair was cut in a short business like fashion and contrasted sharply against her gleaming light blue eyes. Barro suddenly became aware that she was practically staring at the woman and quickly diverted her gaze.


    The woman smiled, no doubt noticing her. "Some rain isn''t it, Ms. Suta?"


    "Pardon?" How did the woman know her name? Barro opened her mouth to question her, but then remembered that she was in uniform and that her last name was clearly pinned to her chest.


    "The uniform right?" Barro smiled. The woman only nodded.


    "I''m sorry. I have a thing for reminding people they are wearing identifying clothing."


    "I see." Barro looked back up to the rainy sky. "That is a strange hobby."


    The woman chuckled. "I suppose you could say that."


    Barro squinted at the woman again. She seemed to remind her of someone, especially the way she laughed, but she couldn''t quite place it. The entire situation seemed odd. Nostalgic almost.


    "Is something wrong, dear?" The woman said as if sensing her mood.


    "Oh, no," Barro said quickly. "I''m fine, thank you."


    The woman looked her uniform up and down. "That''s a lot of badges you have on there."


    Barro couldn¡¯t argue. In her relatively short career she¡¯d amassed quite a few distinctions, but truthfully they were a source of pain more than accomplishment. A medal for her normally meant surviving a conflict her comrades had not.


    "I see you¡¯re a pilot." The woman gestured to the winged pendant on her chest. ¡°Air force?"


    "No, USSD."


    "Ah¡­ Space Defense." The woman smiled appreciatively. "That sounds very exciting."


    ¡°Can be¡­¡± Barro glanced at the woman again. She certainly looked familiar. But she still couldn¡¯t place her. "Excuse me ma''am, but have we perhaps met somewhere before?"


    The woman paused for a moment and then smiled at her coyly. "It¡¯s possible I suppose."


    Something clicked inside Barro''s head. That voice. She definitely knew this woman somehow. It seemed impossible. This was her first time on visiting this city. But she must have met her at some point before.


    "Where are you from?" Barro asked.


    "Oh, quite far from here," the woman said with a gentle smile. "Like yourself."


    Barro raised an eyebrow at that one. "What do you mean?"


    "I have something for you," the woman said. She reached for something in her purse pressed whatever it was into Barro''s hand.


    "What''s going on?"


    The woman hushed her like a child, placing a gentle finger upon Barro''s lips.


    "What is this?" Barro vaguely felt a flat, square-shaped object in her palm.


    "You''ll find out."


    "Who are you?" Barro had to know.


    The woman smiled and then leaned forward, her wet lips finding a soft spot on Barro¡¯s flushed cheek. "Someone who loves you, Barro."


    Suta''s body grew stiff. That voice. That touch.


    Shady memories began to flood her mind.


    The woman caressed Barro¡¯s cheek. Then she slipped away from her. Barro hardly noticed, her mind still in a daze. Something fell to the ground with a plastic clatter. Barro blinked and looked downward. The small object the woman had given her lay next to her foot.


    A datachip?


    Barro stooped and retrieved it quickly from the wet concrete. The woman. Where was she? Barro¡¯s head snapped quickly left and right looking for her. But she was no longer there.


    Barro arose and turned to face the gray downpour surrounding her. ln the distance she could discern the faint outline of an umbrella. Barro took a step forward but hesitated. What would she say to the woman if she caught up with her? Barro wanted to know who she was, but something deep inside, told her that she already knew.


    And it shook her again.


    As cold as the icy rain which now blew against her face. The recognition. The realization. A single word entered into her mind. Barro rejected it immediately. It was illogical. Impossible. Yet it seemed so clear. She spoke it just to get it out of her head, the word forming on her lips as alien as the entire concept it represented.


    For the first time in her life, Barro spoke the word.


    "Mother?"


    **********

 Chapter 2

    The heavy rumble of thunder descended from the gray washed sky and echoed throughout the concrete walls of Cronus City. The rain continued to fall with a light whisper as it pattered steadily to the ground. Barro walked through obliviously; her light gray uniform, now stained with dark gray patches where the rain had soaked through. Her duffel bag hung loosely in her left hand; its weight supported by her tensed muscles.


    The train station loomed ahead of her. She thought about hurrying to its shelter but decided she was already too wet for it to make much of a difference. Barro crossed the empty street towards it. She could feel the rain soak through her shoes as it made its way in small rivulets towards the open drains. The station itself was of simple design. There were no arches, no Neo classical or Greek themes that the city was famous for, just plain, rectangular and functional. The entire front section of the building was built of paneled glass that served as both wall and window. The only distinguishing marks on the building at all were the letters spelling ¡®South Cronus Train Port¡¯ across its front.


    As Barro approached, the two automatic glass doors swished open with a puff of cool air. She stepped inside and felt the damp patches grow icy cold against her skin. There were very few people occupying the station, and there was no train present at the boarding gates. Suta glanced at her watch and saw it was close to 1700 hours. Her train was due to arrive at a quarter past. She had time.


    Barro exhaled sharply. It was quite a long distance from downtown Cronus to the train depot, and Barro had done most of it in a rather brisk walk. The fact that she was lugging thirty-kilogram bag the entire time did not help her respiration much either. She tossed the wet bag to the floor and sat down facing the glass wall as the rain continued to fall outside. Barro felt better now that she was within the terminal, but the coldness began to make her tremble slightly.


    Staring outside she could faintly see her own refection on the glass. She removed her hat for a moment and ran a hand through her shoulder length black hair. Her face was a bit wide, with a squared off jaw and full cheeks. Her sharpened nose sat above her thin lips and just below and a pair of light gray eyes. Her skin was a naturally dark tan and reasonably soft. Her body was somewhat small in stature but well formed. Barro stood only a little over one and a half meters in height and had a toned muscular structure. Most women would envy having a body like hers, but to Suta it mattered little. The military saw to it that her body would always be in shape.


    She held her hat in her hands and brushed away the excess water before it soaked into the soft gray felt. She rubbed the slightly altered naval crest on the front of the brim and wiped clean the letters USSD placed below it.


    The four letters were everything to her. Her career. Her home. Her life. United States Space Defense was all that was important to her. The only thing that mattered. At leastthat was true until today. Until that woman.


    Her face flashed quickly through Barro¡¯s mind, and the deep uneasiness of confusion and uncertainty grasped her again. So many questions probed her. Who was the woman? Why was she there? How did she know how to find her? But the most puzzling question loomed above them all.


    How could she even exist?


    Barro quickly dove her hand into her jacket pocket. She fumbled inside it for a moment, then finally withdrew the data disk from within. She held it aloft before her, examining it.


    It was a common optical storage cartridge, with a three-gigabyte capacity. Barro flipped the light plastic device over in her palm and saw it was unmarked externally.


    Would this hold the answers to her questions? It would no doubt answer some. Barro wondered if she was perhaps jumping to conclusions. Maybe she did know her from somewhere and just forgot. Extremely unlikely, but possible she supposed. Perhaps the woman was just mistaken, although she did call Barro by her first name.


    The more she eyed the disk, the more she needed to know what was on it. If only she had some means of viewing it. Barro scanned the interior of the station. At the far end she saw a row of public phones, and next to them a public terminal. It was not the best thing to use, but it would be able to read the disk. At least she hoped anyway.


    Commander Suta donned her hat and gathered her heavy duffel. A spark of uncertainty and excitement flashed through her stomach as she nearly ran towards the terminal screen. The bag was again discarded to the floor as Barro reached into her jacket pocket for her wallet.


    The data tenninal was a simple device, consisting of a monitor, a keypad and an array of input jacks for various devices. Being inside a train depot, the terminal was luckily in quite good condition. Barro tapped the keypad and brought the main screen to attention.


    Welcome to the Cronus City Public Access Network


    Terminal S-l l l3 | South Cronus Train Port


    Saturday August 17¡°¡® 2047


    Please deposit $1.00 for the first minute[ .50 each additional minute] or insert your credit card or debit card.


    Barro produced the driest five-dollar bill she could find, and fed it into the machine. With the whirl of an electric motor, the note was snatched from her hand and quickly gobbled up. An audible ¡®Thank you¡¯ was then chimed in a pleasant female voice.


    Barro looked at the keypad and decided to bypass it. This was her normal course of action with most terminals, but here she was consciously taking a slight risk. Public terminals were havens for all sorts of viruses; most of them placed there as a source of entertainment for bored hackers. In most cases people used viral filters when connecting to public tenninals.


    Barro¡¯s own filter was internal of course and as good as any on the market. But a viral infection was far more dangerous to her than to the common user. To someone else it would mean replacing software and perhaps hardware, to Barro it could practically mean death itself. She almost stopped to rethink her decision, but her urgency and faith in her own defenses pressed her on.


    Barro eyed the neural jack on the terminal. Mentally she aimed for it. In a fraction of a second, a slim, fiber optic wire sprouted from her wrist. It spurred outward smoothly like strand of spider silk. The thread bent to face its target, then as quickly as it had appeared it connected itself to the terminal port.


    Optical laser drives began to whirl within the terminal and information began to


    appear on the screen.


    > Neural initialization detected


    > Loading Neural software - NeuroTech NeuroSoft v2.l


    ................................ ..Complete


    > Searching for Neural interface device...


    Device is: NULL


    > Error no device found!


    > Checking interface connection...


    > Connection established.


    Transfer rate 7233 Kbyte/sec.


    Warning: Transfer rate exceeds max safe limit of 1500 Kbytes/sec.


    > Select interface parameters.


    Visual : YES


    Audio : YES


    Tactile : YES


    Olfactory : NO (Not supported by device driver)


    Taste : NO (Not supported by device driver)


    Barro smirked. There was no taste or smell. But then, it was only a public terminal after all. And it was running a rather cheap interface program at that. It was not that important anyway, she reasoned. Barro entered the last keystroke to accept the parameters then slowly the World around her began to fade.


    Masses of data began to flow through the thin neural cable. Slowly a table of twirling icons began to take shape in the air in front of her. Barro looked down towards her pocket and withdrew the data disk. Carefully, she inserted it into the terminal drive. The drive accessed the disk, and a new icon began to form. She could barely make out what it was with her real life optics in the background. Barro searched the program utilities. She found the interface options and minimized her real life feeds.


    In an instant, Barro''s vision of the terminal shrank and became a small window the size of one of the icons. The sound of the train port disappeared with it, leaving Barro in a vacuum like black room with only the spinning icons in her presence. It was a fairly tasteless setup on the programming side. No audio, no tactile, just a command screen. Sparse yet functional she supposed.


    Barro gave a quick glance to the small window portraying the real world about her.She set the parameters for it to maximize if there was any tactile or audio input above acertain level. Barro then looked to the drive icon, which appeared as a small rotatingdiamond with an ¡®A¡¯ hanging undemeath it. Suta tensed a bit as she examined it.


    Whatever was on the disk lay just beyond it. Barro had no reserves that she would viewthe disk, but it worried her that she might find information she did not particularly wishto know.


    She accessed it anyway and the other icons scattered.A single cube emerged from the darkness. Below it the title of the file appeared.


    Barro.vif (2247 Mbytes)


    A virtual image file labeled with her own name. Barro didn¡¯t know what to make of it.It was quite large for the type of file it was, and the name did little to ease her curiosity oranxiety.


    Barro accessed the file.


    A small information window appeared. Within it, several commands were being


    automatically displayed.


    > Loading Virtuview ..... ..done


    >Virtuview| accessing file: Barro.vif


    A small horizontal bar appeared and began to fill, showing the percentage completion


    of the task.


    2% complete..


    5% complete..


    7% complete..


    The processor was extremely slow. Barro brought up the clock displaying her


    remaining usage time.


    > You have 00:03:22 left on your account.


    Barro sighed. Hopefully there would be enough time. She could always insert more money anyway. She figured it would be best to do so now rather than have it cut off unexpectedly. Barro minimized the viewer window just as it reached 19%. She went to shift to the window containing her real life senses, in order to retrieve the money from her wallet.


    Suta¡¯s full vision and hearing returned to her with a flush of excitement and sound. Barro suddenly realized that she had not yet given the command for it to do so. Her preset parameters had been set off. Barro looked about herself confused. She could hear the automatic voice of the PA system announcing the arrival of a train. As if to emphasize the announcement, a small virtual window popped open inside her head and announced the same message.


    There was a train now docked at the boarding gate. Its doors were open and streams of commuters were flowing from it. The air soon filled with the dull murmur of conversation, as people collected their luggage and sought further transportation throughout the city.


    Barro eyed the virtual clock. It read 5:07pm. Her train would be leaving shortly. She checked on the progress of the viewer. Only 63% complete. Could she risk missing the train? No, that would look very bad to her superiors.


    Suddenly, Suta became aware of a man approaching her. Quickly, she cleared the icons to get a better view. He was matured, perhaps forty or so. Wearing a light gray dress uniform, with his hat tucked neatly under his arm. He was dark-haired, with a pleasant boyish face and an innocent, almost naive smile.


    Barro enhanced her optics and read his tag. Webber was his name. The stripes on his arm told her his rank as a staff sergeant. He was USSD, no doubt from the base to escort her. Barro looked at the viewer again. Still only 87% complete. She gritted her teeth. It would certainly look bad to greet her escort half jacked into a terminal, and the train would be leaving soon as well.


    Barro sighed and stopped the viewer at 93% completion. She ejected the disk and logged out from the terminal. Her vision returning to nomial,the screen flashed a calculation of her remaining time and its monetary equivalent. Then with a mechanical chunk, it deposited a debit card with her remaining time as credit.


    Barro pulled it from the slot and deposited it in her jacket pocket, just as the sergeant


    came to full attention before her.


    ¡°Commander Suta,¡± he greeted her in a mild, yet, confident voice. He then saluted smartly.


    ¡°Sergeant.¡± Barro retuned his salute.


    ¡°Welcome to Cronus City, Ma¡¯am,¡± he extended his hand with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m Michael Webber.¡±


    Barro shook it firmly. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°I hope I didn¡¯t rush you.¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°Whatever you were doing,¡± he pointed to the terminal. ¡°I didn''t mean to make you stop.¡±


    Barro couldn''t help from blushing a bit. ¡°No, I was just checking my mail.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I''m sorry then,¡± he apologized. ¡°If you want some privacy to continue-¡±


    ¡°I said I was finished.¡±


    Michael Webber paused, abruptly silenced by the Commander¡¯s curt response. Was Suta normally this rude? He wondered. He was going to have a hard time if she was.


    ¡°Well... ah,¡± Webber struggled to collect his thoughts again. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get on board then, Commander. The train will be leaving in a few.¡±


    Suta only nodded and then reached to collect her luggage from the floor.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh, allow me,¡± Webber offered courteously, racing to pick up the duffel for her. He immediately felt the folly of his action, the heavy weight of the bag straining his ann.


    ¡°God,¡± he grunted. ¡°Must have a couple of cars in here, eh?¡±


    Webber chuckled at his own joke, but the Commander apparently found little humor in his statement. She gave only a quick smile and then proceeded on towards the boarding gates.


    Webber smirked, following suit behind her. He should have known Suta lacked a sense of humor. They probably should have sent an officer to meet her anyway. Webber could sense she had a slight superiority complex. He wondered where she had picked that up from. Still, she was of higher rank at this point and Webber had to respect that.


    ¡°So how was the trip from Luna?¡± Webber tried for general conversation again.


    ¡°Very short,¡± was her only reply.


    ¡°I see...¡± Webber repositioned the duffel over his shoulder to carry it more easily. ¡°I must apologize for us having to route you through civilian transportation. The test facility is not fully completed yet.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right sergeant. I got a day¡¯s leave to explore the city.¡±


    ¡°You mean a cyberoid?¡± she grinned.


    ¡°Well yes,¡± Webber shifted slightly. ¡°I tried to phrase it a little better. Some cyberoids take offense to being referred to so bluntly.¡±


    ¡°Well there is no need with me,¡± Barro shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s what I am. Just as you are a human. Right?¡±


    ¡°Just didn¡®t want to seem rude that''s all. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very apologetic.¡± Barro crossed her legs turning further towards him. ¡°Aren¡®t you, Sergeant?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You shouldn''t be so quick to apologize for your actions. It makes you seem doubtful of your own decisions.¡±


    Webber was silent for a moment and then finally nodded. ¡°Yeah I guess you¡¯re right. But I suppose that comes easy for you doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    Barro shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just how I am.¡±


    ¡°Apparently,¡± Webber smiled. ¡°So how long have you been with USSD?¡±


    ¡°All my life of course.¡±


    ¡°Which is?¡±


    Barro smirked at him. ¡°Is this a roundabout way of asking me my age, Sergeant?¡±


    ¡°I suppose so,¡± Webber said grinning. ¡°I know how you women are about that sort of thing.¡±


    Barro began to chuckle, amused by his statement. ¡°I''m twelve and a half¡±


    ¡°Really? Twelve? That¡¯s quite old isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Barro shrugged. ¡°I suppose I am one of the few to reach my age. Cell deterioration due to growth acceleration becomes irreversible after about eight years, even with Cell rejuvenating drugs and treatments, most don¡¯t live past that. The low gravity of the Moon has allowed me to live so long I believe.¡±


    Webber nodded and smiled awkwardly, apparently not understanding a Word she had said. ¡°You know what¡¯s funny?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that, Sergeant?¡±


    ¡°When you told me your age, I still got the vision of a twelve year old girl in my head.¡± He then smiled warmly at her, as if she were indeed the young girl he had just described. ¡°I guess we¡¯re just patterned to think that way naturally. No matter how much we know.¡±


    ¡°Well I guess in some ways I am just a little girl,¡± Barro smiled back at him. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t know everything. I don¡¯t even know if I have a mother.¡±


    Webber¡¯s brow furrowed, his tone becoming suddenly serious. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Barro suddenly realized what she had said. ¡°Not important.¡±


    ¡°No wait,¡± Webber turned his Whole body towards her. ¡°You said something about your mother?¡±


    ¡°Um... No,¡± she lied. ¡°I asked do you have a mother?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Webber answered quickly. He then rethought what he had just said and to whom he was speaking. ¡°I mean yes I do.¡±


    ¡°What is it like?¡± Barro asked him quizzically. ¡°To have a mother.¡±


    Webber stared curiously at the Commander. ¡±Well, I don¡¯t know. I guess since she¡¯s always been a part of my life, I can¡¯t really describe it too well. I just couldn¡¯t imagine not having her there.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a good relationship with your mother?¡±


    ¡°Yes I do,¡± Webber nodded slowly. ¡°Do you feel you have some sense of matemal yearning?¡±


    ¡°No of course not.¡± Barro blinked and tumed away from his questioning. ¡°I was just being curious.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Webber nodded again.


    Barro looked back into the Sergeant¡¯s trusting eyes. Part of her wanted to tell him everything that had happened earlier. Tell him about the woman she had met. The disk. About the strange new feelings that were welling up inside her. But her better judgment ebbed her from that. She really didn¡¯t know this Webber at all, and she had an image to uphold as a pilot and an officer. She could not let petty emotions get in the way of that.


    ¡°Are you all right, Commander?¡±


    Barro realized she was staring at him. ¡°Oh yes I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°You know it¡¯s not unusual for a cyberoid of your age to experience some forms of latent, instinctive regressions and yeamings. It¡¯s usually due to a hormonal imbalance,


    which affects the normally repressed regions of the organic brain lobe.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Barro grew suddenly apprehensive. ¡°How do you know all this?¡±


    ¡°Actually...¡± Webber blushed. ¡°I just happened to see it on a television program once. It was pretty interesting though.¡±


    Barro smirked. She didn¡¯t too much like the idea of being diagnosed by a television program.


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re just nervous about the project,¡± Webber suggested. ¡°Are you?¡±


    ¡°The project?¡± Barro was not certain of the protocol when dealing with high security information. But she assumed that if the Sergeant already knew about it, his clearance was adequate. Still, she would not want to elaborate on the subject. Indeed it would be an easy task, considering she did not know much about it herself. ¡°My only knowledge is that I¡¯m to be a test pilot for a new space craft.¡±


    ¡°Is that all they told you?¡± Webber seeming almost concerned.


    ¡°That and the fact that I had been specially picked from a large array of pilots for the project. I was fortunate to get the opportunity.¡±


    ¡°You mean they didn¡¯t even brief you with an overview of the project itself?¡±


    ¡°No, there wasn¡¯t time.¡±


    ¡°And you consented, not knowing the full scope of the mission?¡± Webber was beginning to get openly upset.


    ¡°Consent? For what? The mission?¡±


    ¡°The transplant.¡±


    ¡°Transplant?¡± Barro did not like the sound of that word.


    ¡°My god, they didn¡¯t even tell you did they?¡± Webber shook his head in disbelief.


    ¡°Tell me what?¡± Barro herself was now growing upset. ¡°Exactly how much do you know that I don¡¯t, Sergeant?¡±


    ¡°Look, maybe I shouldn¡¯t say anything else till we reach the base.¡±


    ¡°Well that''s good.¡± Webber attempted to smile at her. ¡°So how do you like Cronus City so far?¡±


    Suta shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s big. I didn¡¯t get to see too much. Spent most of my time at a museum. But I learned as lot about the city¡¯s history.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Webber switched the bag to his other shoulder with a grunt. ¡°That¡¯s nice.¡±


    ¡°When will it be operational?¡±


    ¡°When will what?¡± Webber wiped a film of sweat that was building on his brow. ¡°Oh you mean the base?¡±


    ¡°Yes Sergeant the base.¡±


    Webber paused before answering her. He was really beginning to detest her attitude.


    ¡°Most of it is finished actually,¡± he said after a while. ¡°It¡¯s just that the runway needs to be modified to handle the added load of space vehicles and a launch platform needs to be constructed. But it should be finished in a month or so I believe.¡±


    Barro nodded. She was hardly listening to him. The contents of the disk kept plaguing her mind. If she only had a few more minutes to spare, she could have seen what was on it. The frustration of the whole situation was starting to irritate her.


    ¡°Commander?¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡± Barro became aware that the sergeant was speaking to her again. They were at the entrance gate, where a middle-aged woman stood patiently smiling.


    ¡°Your ticket, Commander.¡± Webber held up his own. ¡°Do you have it?¡±


    ¡°Yes I do.¡± Barro retrieved the piece of plastic from her jacket and handed it to the woman.


    ¡°Thank you, miss,¡± the woman smiled politely. ¡°Your seats are third car row 21, A and B. Please have a pleasant trip.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Webber received the stubs, ¡°you have a good day.¡±


    ¡°You as well, dear.¡± The woman then waved them into the train.


    The Sergeant led the way through the interior of the cabin, hauling the duffel bagstrenuously in front of him. Barro could see the hard time he was having with it.


    ¡°Why did you even offer to take my bag?¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± Webber was taken off guard by the Commander¡¯s sudden question.


    ¡°Why did you carry my bag?¡± she repeated. ¡°You must know that I¡¯m much stronger than you are.¡±


    Webber really didn¡¯t understand what she was getting at. ¡°It was a gesture of kindness and respect, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Respect for what?¡± she taunted. ¡°Respect for me as a superior officer or respect formed as a woman?¡±


    Webber saw hazard lights flashing around her question. No way was he going to answer it outright. He paused and then addressed her as cordially as possible. ¡°If the Commander wishes to carry her own bag, she may do so. N0 disrespect was intended on the sergeant''s behalf.¡±


    Webber then stared Barro in the eye causing her to grin all too casually.


    ¡°No sergeant,¡± she leered at him. ¡°I think you are doing just fine.¡±


    Webber grumbled inwardly as he nearly broke his back storing the heavy duffel into the overhead compartment. He wiped the sweat from his brow and offered the window seat to the Commander. She accepted without a word of thanks or as much as a smile.


    Webber sat in the aisle seat next to her. He didn''t like the Commander¡¯s personality very much. He should have foreseen it though. Being a pilot and rising to her rank would no doubt cause a rather large ego. On top of that there was the fact she was made to be confident anyway. The combination served up a rather mean attitude he supposed.


    The PA system chimed and warned of the train¡¯s departure. Shortly thereafter the slim vessel soundlessly began propelling itself along its magnetic railing.


    Barro felt the slight jolt of acceleration in her back as the train began to build speed. Through the window she could see the boarding gates of the station quickly slip by. The train pushed onward into the light rain. Barro glanced at the overhead monitor showing a camera view from the front of the train as well as the current speed. The digital numbers flashed quickly from 80 Km/h, to I20 to 160. Barro turned her head and saw the raindrops on her Window begin to streak backwards. The train¡¯s speed increased even further until the water streaked horizontally and was finally swept clean. When Barro looked at the monitor again the reading hovered close to 480 Km/h.


    As a pilot, the acceleration of the train itself did not impress Barro much, but the fact that such performance was attained by a ground vehicle certainly did.


    The downtown of Cronus City swept by in little more than a blur. Soon they were out of the city completely and surrounded by the greenery of the suburbs. They had gotten past the thunderstorm now as well. Fresh beams of sunlight poured from the sky and filled the cabin with their brightness.


    Barro yawned in the sun¡¯s Warmth, feeling almost as if she were awakening from a dream.


    ¡°Are you tired?¡± Webber leaned towards her.


    ¡°No, I''rn fine,¡± she yawned slightly again. ¡°It¡¯s just that this is the first chance I''ve had to sit down all day.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean,¡± Webber nodded. ¡°I''ve been going pretty much all day myself.¡±


    ¡°Sergeant.¡± Barro turned her head towards him.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am?"


    ¡°I hope I did not give you the wrong impression of myself earlier.¡±


    Webber looked back at her confused. ¡°I''m not sure I know what you mean, Commander.¡±


    ¡°I''m just not used to informal introductions,¡± she admitted. ¡°To tell you the truth, I''m really not sure how to talk to you now.¡±


    Webber raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do you mean you don¡¯t know how to address me?¡±


    ¡°How to relate to you, I suppose, is a better term.¡± Barro then chuckled. ¡°I guess you could call me socially deficient.¡±


    Webber smiled. ¡°I don''t think you''re doing that badly, Commander.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she smiled back at him. ¡°Do you have the same problem of relating to me?¡±


    ¡°Well I...¡± The Sergeant paused for a moment. ¡°I suppose so. I mean I''ve never really just talked to someone like yourself before.¡±


    Barro¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Sergeant Webber. I want you to tell me what you meant by the term transplant.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry ma¡¯am, I really can¡¯t. I don¡¯t know if I should.¡± Webber¡¯s face started to grow pale. ¡°I am sure the Commodore will have you briefed on everything once we reach the base.¡±


    Barro was not going to leave it at that.


    ¡°Webber. The only time that I know of, when a cyberoid has to give a form of personal consent is concerning the suspension of cell rejuvenation processes. I don¡¯t know Why, but I was not informed of this before leaving Luna. If you have information concerning this, it is your duty as a member of Space Defense, to relay this information to me. Do you understand?¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t like the idea of being pressured this way. How the hell could they have transferred her and not tell her? Were they expecting to go ahead with the project without her consent?


    ¡°Webber!¡± the Commander shouted at him.


    Passengers seated nearby snapped their heads at the quick disturbance, then respectfully minded their own business. Webber starred into her glassy gray eyes, his own face growing stark and white. What if he had told her something she wasn¡¯t supposed to know? But she had all right to know. Not telling her would be gravely immoral. But was he the one to tell her? Dammit, they should have done this before she even left Luna. Stress knotted his stomach. What the hell was he supposed to do?


    ¡°All right, Commander,¡± Webber exhaled deeply. ¡°I¡¯m just a technician so I don¡¯t know a whole lot. They are working on a new test vehicle, USSD that is. It¡¯s designed to reach tremendously high speeds.¡±


    ¡°Is that it?¡±


    ¡°No, I mean extremely fast,¡± he stressed. ¡°This project is on the same scale as when the sound barrier was broken for the first time.¡±


    Barro arched an eyebrow interestedly. ¡°How fast?¡±


    ¡°Well, the reports I got said target velocities were on the order of ten to the seventh kilometers per hour.¡±


    ¡°The seventh?¡± Barro jerked her head back. ¡°That sounds impossible. No engine could propel a vessel to such speeds. Not in a practical sense anyway.¡±


    ¡°Believe me,¡± Webber said, ¡°they¡¯ve already done it. Test crafts have already broken into the two percentile light region.¡±


    ¡°And how long did it take to reach that?¡± Barro was still a bit skeptical. She almost laughed. ¡°Several months?¡±


    ¡°3982 seconds was their fastest acceleration time I recall.¡±


    Barro calculated the figures in her head. ¡°Are you certain?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But that would require an average acceleration of around. . .¡± Barro paused, the numbers seemed laughable. ¡°Over fifteen hundred meters per second squared?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, around 150 Gs,¡± Webber nodded. ¡°The engines are actually capable of delivering three times that amount. Of course they¡¯d probably explode in about ten seconds too.¡±


    ¡°But how? What are they using?¡±


    Barro saw Webber glance around newously and she suddenly realized that she was practically shouting.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she ran a finger through her hair embarrassed. ¡°How do they achieve such thrust?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me, I¡¯m not with the engine design team. But I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll give you some explanation on how it works. It basically uses magnetic drive engines I think or some variant there of.¡±


    ¡°Magnetic?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°So how long has this project been going on do you know?¡±


    ¡°I think it started in 2017.¡±


    ¡°USSD has kept this under wraps for that long?¡± Barro was amazed. ¡°Makes you wonder what else we have going on upstairs. Think if they can achieve that already.¡±


    ¡°Well anyway, I hope you see now why I was a bit reluctant to tell you about the project. Especially here.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± Barro nodded. ¡°If I were you I wouldn¡¯t have said anything.¡±


    ¡°What? But you practically made me!¡±


    ¡°At any rate,¡± Barro dismissed his protest. ¡°They want me to pilot this?¡±


    ¡°Well yes,¡± Webber said. ¡°As far as we know the vehicle designers are having problems testing the various prototypes using an unmanned system. Sensors and control devices falling out of range and what have you.¡± ¡°And where have all these test been performed?¡±


    ¡°I believe they launch from Luna and have tracking satellites positioned in orbit around Ganymede. Getting the satellites out there is what took a great majority of the time.¡±


    ¡°But they launch from Luna?¡± Barro suddenly felt very much in the dark. ¡°You mean I¡¯ve been stationed right where you have been testing. And I haven¡¯t noticed?¡±


    ¡°No, no. The test site is on the far side. Though I think they do sometimes route supplies through your base.¡±


    Barro shook her head. This day was turning out to be the strangest in her life. ¡°So wait. Why did they bring me here to Earth?¡±


    ¡°The research base on earth is for the pilot control system. We really won¡¯t have much to do with the Luna base till we finish down here.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of piloting,¡± Barro shifted in her seat. ¡°How am I expected to pilot a craft capable of producing such forces?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Webber paused. ¡°That¡¯s where the transplant I mentioned come into play.¡± Barro frowned. ¡°And just what do they plan to do?¡±


    Webber paused in silence.


    ¡°Well?¡± Suta prompted. ¡°Are they going to upgrade my body to a D-type to withstand the G force?¡±


    ¡°We do plan to upgrade your body,¡± Webber answered. ¡°But even a D type cyberoid has an organic brain. And that would be crushed.¡±


    ¡°So? What do they propose then?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve developed a new cyberbrain which uses an advanced optical processor. A processor which has been thoroughly tested and we feel confident can accommodate a sentient consciousness.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Barro felt her stomach churn. ¡°Store a consciousness? You¡¯re telling me they¡¯re going to try to download me into some AI!¡±


    ¡°Well its not an AI really. It¡¯s just a processor. You¡®ll still be-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Barro shook her head forcefully. ¡°In fact I don¡¯t like the sound of any of this.¡±


    ¡°Please, Commander, settle down,¡± Webber tried his best to calm her.


    ¡°Look, I want to know why I wasn¡¯t informed of any of this before I left Luna,¡± Barro glared at him. ¡°And just how do you know so much about this project for being just being a technician?¡±


    Barro could tell he was hiding something.


    ¡°Well you know-¡±


    Barro¡¯s hand snapped outward, snatching Webber¡¯s tie-clad throat. He lurched abruptly and let out a stifled gurgle.


    She leaned her face towards his. ¡°Just who are you, Sergeant Webber?¡±


    His eyes stared into hers, trembling like a frightened child, but his mouth remained shut.


    ¡°Who are you!¡±


    Webber swallowed hard then finally answered.


    ¡°All right, my full name is Dr. Michael Webber, I¡¯m a cybernary engineer for Genesis Corporation. I joined the project on a contract from USSD. I had to design an android body capable of piloting their new vehicle.¡±


    Barro gritted her teeth. ¡°So you¡¯re not even in the military. You bastard! Why the hell did you put on this charade?¡±


    Doctor Webber struggled a bit in her clenched grasp. ¡°Calm down Barro dammit!


    Your superiors wanted me to evaluate you under non controlled circumstances, without pretense.¡±


    ¡°So what did you find out, doctor?¡± Barro spat. ¡°Did I pass your little test?¡±


    ¡°Look it wasn¡¯t my idea, Barro. I was the one who handpicked you as the pilot candidate!¡± Webber finally pulled free from her. ¡°Testing you like this is the last thing I wanted to do.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re the one who picked me, then why wasn¡¯t I informed of the details of the project?¡±


    ¡°You were supposed to have been!¡± Webber retorted. ¡°I gave a twenty page extract of the project to the Commodore to be sent to you. I don¡¯t know why it didn¡¯t get to you, but I was informed that you had agreed to all the terms and were on your way here.¡±


    Barro hardly heard him; a single image ripped her mind with a burning sense of violation and indignation.


    ¡°Now I see,¡± she glared at him coldly. ¡°This was all part of your test as well.¡±


    Barro withdrew the small plastic disk from her jacket. ¡°It figures. Trying to see if I could keep focused after filling my head with your bullshit!¡±


    ¡°Stop lying to me!¡± Barro yelled.


    She rose sharply from her seat, oblivious to the gawking civilians about her. She stepped across the fake Sergeant and stormed through the cabin doors and into the next car.


    Doctor Michael Webber watched Barro leave. There wasn¡¯t much he could do to try to reason with her right now. He glanced at the stripes on his arm. The Commodore was an ass. Webber knew he should have been sent as another officer. But why the hell put him up to this anyway? He was certain Suta could live up to the project requirements. If there was anyone who was an expert on Barro¡¯s capabilities, it most definitely was him. There was no need for this at all. Of course now it was a matter of just getting her to agree to the project at all.


    Webber reached inside his coat and stopped the voice stress analyzer hidden within it. She seemed fit psychologically, sort of. The last outburst worried him a bit, but the evaluation was over as far as he was concerned. Barro was okay.


    Webber sighed. Then slowly he got up and followed the cyberoid into the next car.


    ¡°At least I hope she is.¡±


    **********

 Chapter 3: Decisions Made

    Commodore Thomas Anderson stroked his thick mustache slowly as he read over the papers in front of him. More purchase orders he thought. This would be the second order for over five hundred thousand dollars this month. Anderson shook his head as he placed his signature at the bottom of the form. "The General Staff is gonna shit a brick."


    Leaning back in his plush leather chair, he let out a deep sigh. He looked at his watch. It was late, almost 2000 hours. Webber should be back with the cyberoid any time now. He wished he didn''t have to be present to welcome her to the base. He was missing a fine home cooked meal and a relaxing evening with the wife because of her. "Work before pleasure," he said idly as he stared blankly about his office.


    lt was a well decorated room, with a solid oak desk at the center and a small library placed against the wall. Across from the desk hung a large USSD crest with two American flags crossed underneath it. On the adjacent wall hung Commodore Anderson''s personal display of awards and badges. He had a plaque made, housing his rank insignia and medals all the way from private upward. He enjoyed looking at it from time to time. They reminded him of his accomplishments and sometimes even the good old days, but most ofall, he liked to gaze at the empty spaces, just waiting to be filled.


    "Soon," he stroked his mustache again. If he could keep this operation in line and deliver the product, he would be looking at his second star for sure. But so far it hadn''t been the easiest task.


    Renel Naval base was by no means the largest USSD facility in existence. Altogether, Commodore Anderson commanded a staff of perhaps only nine hundred personnel. The base covered an area of about fifteen hundred hectares, with the actual base itself consisting of a small complex of three warehouses and a central building; covering little more than a square kilometer in all. It was a small installation, but the operations going on inside it certainly were not. They did not even need as many staff as they had now. Most were there simply for project cover and didn''t know squat about what was really going on inside the base.


    Anderson started to get impatient again. He ran a finger through his graying dark hair and scratched the base of his skull. He frowned; then lightly he tapped the intercom on his desk and spoke into it.


    "Lieutenant?" he called. "Has Webber reported in yet?" Lieutenant Della replied in her husky female voice. "I''ve had no word yet, Sir." "Could you do me a favor and check down at the gate and see if they have heard anything yet?"


    "Will do, Commodore," Della answered.


    "Thank you, Lieutenant." Anderson sighed again flicking off the intercom. "Where the hell is that asshole."


    * * *


    The summer sun kissed the edge of the earth in a dazzling display ofhot oranges and yellows. The splendid light reflected off the sparse white clouds floating in the lofty desert sky, and painted them a vivid crimson. Above them, the warm light faded slowly to a deep purple and finally to the dark blue which served as background to the stars. The dry shrubs and cacti of the desert soon became blanketed in the soft blue hue of twilight, as the land dissipated the last of its heat, and the air began to grow cool and still.


    A truck broke the calm, pushing itself along a single vein of tarmac that scarred the desert floor. It proceeded at a rapid pace, lighting its way through the darkened wasteland with an array ofpowerful headlamps.


    The driver of the truck felt the engine bog. Quickly, he depressed the clutch and jammed the stick shift into a lower gear. In one fluid motion, he throttled the accelerator and let the clutch pop outwards. The truck jerked with the new supply of torque, and gripped the road sharply as it rounded a comer.


    The driver grinned and looked back to his passengers. "You okay back there?"


    "Yeah we''re fine," Webber answered quickly. "Hey could you watch the road please?"


    "Don''t worry Sarge, I could drive this route with my eyes closed." The driver then smiled back at him. Webber nodded nonchalantly as the young corporal turned his attention back to the darkened road ahead of them. Suta remained silent next to him. She had not spoken much since the train. He couldn''t blame her really. Still, she would have to start talking sooner or later.


    Suta certainly had become a complex person, definitely an effect of her age. A newly constructed cyberoid would have nowhere near the depth of character, or personality Suta possessed.


    ¡°Barro, may I ask you something?¡±


    The cyberoid turned her head from the window and stared at him for a moment.


    ¡°What is it, Doctor?¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t like the cold tone of her voice but he pressed on regardless. ¡°Have you considered applying for human status yet?¡±


    Barro smirked. ¡°No I haven¡¯t. And in any case I¡¯m not eligible.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± Webber was surprised. ¡°What do you mean? From a professional standpoint, I feel you¡¯re fit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Barro said. ¡°You of all people should know that Status can only be granted under two conditions. One, that the applicant be evaluated and approved by a registered board of personnel. And two that they have paid their total cost in full. I still have quite a bit left to pay back.¡±


    ¡°Even after twelve years of service?¡±


    ¡°Look, Webber,¡± she turned to him again. ¡°Not that it¡¯s any of your business, but gaining status is not one of my major priorities.¡±


    Her statement shocked him. Webber thought all cyberoids strove to gain human status.


    ¡°So then,¡± Suta cut her eyes at him. ¡°Is this more of your evaluation, doctor?¡±


    ¡°No it is not. . .¡± Webber grimaced.


    ¡°Then why ask?"


    ¡°I¡¯m just making conversation.¡±


    ¡°Then would you mind picking a subject besides me?¡± Barro said curtly.


    Webber was growing tired of her indignant attitude.


    ¡°Listen, alright? I know you¡¯re upset by being deceived. And you have all right to be, but that doesn¡¯t change the reason why you are here. I picked you because you were the most qualified and most experienced pilot for the job. You will still have the choice to decide on whether you will take the mission or not, but I want to make one thing clear. This is the chance of a lifetime. They¡¯re planning on making you an admiral for this.¡±


    Barro¡¯s eyes shifted slightly but she remained silent.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be the first Artificial Person in history to hold such a high military ranking. You¡¯ll also be the first to pilot a new breed of spacecraft. Think of it, this ship is going to expand mankind¡¯s environment throughout the solar system.¡±


    ¡°What makes you think I desire all that?¡± Barro spat.


    Webber stumbled a bit. ¡°Well isn¡¯t it what we all strive for? Fame? Recognition? A piece of immortality?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think any of that is worth losing my own sense of self.¡± Barro folder her arms indignantly. ¡°This process of yours will destroy all that.¡±


    ¡°Well I really didn¡¯t explain how everything would work. .. I mean-¡±


    ¡°Would you do it?¡± Barro snapped. ¡°Would you do it if you were me, Doctor?¡±


    There was silence for a moment.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I could answer that,¡± Webber shook his head. ¡°I mean... I couldn¡¯t do it anyway.¡±


    ¡°Then why ask me to make the decision?¡± Suta stated smugly.


    ¡°Why ask you?¡± Webber grew suddenly agitated. ¡°At least I am asking you, Barro! By the way things look they didn¡¯t want you to know at all. Maybe they aren¡¯t even going to give you a choice. You ever thought of that?¡±


    Barro flashed her eyes at him. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been giving me shit since I met you,¡± he told her forcefully. ¡°Shit that I don¡¯t have to take. I¡¯m not in charge of this damn project, and I really have no say in how they operate save for the technical aspect. If they want to treat you like a lifeless tool, I can¡¯t do anything about it.¡±


    Webber glared directly at her, his anger permeating his stare. Barro stared straight back at him, apparently unconcerned by his words. Finally, Webber tumed away from her. He had dealt with Suta long enough. He could build cyberoids, but apparently he couldn¡¯t understand them worth a shit. It was no wonder he had never bothered to just talk with one before.


    Commander Suta made no response to Webber¡¯s outburst. They sat next to each other in silence while the driver navigated the truck through the remainder of the desert and finally to the entrance of the base.


    An MP approached the vehicle as they pulled to a stop before the guard booth. The driver exchanged a few brief words with her and she returned to her booth to raise the barrier.


    ¡°Welcome to Renel, Commander,¡± the driver called back as he drove into the complex.


    Barro gazed at what little she could see out the window. The base was sparse, both in personnel and equipment. Spending most of her life on a moon base, she was not used to seeing things spaced so far apart. On Luna, vehicles were packed into small hangers almost on top of one another, while floods of crewmen rushed in and out of the cramped corridors like bees in a hive. This seemed like a ghost town in comparison. A row of aircraft suddenly caught her attention. They were lined neatly on the airfield a few hundred meters away. Barro made out their configuration as she enhanced her vision, they were F-38B¡¯s, the military¡¯s current top attacker fighter; non-space based anyway. They had Low Earth Orbit capabilities, but not true space flight like the F-40¡¯s she was trained to fly.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± the Corporal announced, bringing the truck to a stop with a squeak of breaks. ¡°The Commodore gave orders to drop you directly to his office as soon as you arrived.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± Webber opened his door. ¡°This way Commander.¡±


    Webber stepped out and then waited while she collected her duffel from the back of the truck.


    ¡°It was nice meeting you, Commander,¡± the driver quickly saluted her.


    Barro returned his salute then watched as the Corporal shoved the truck back into gear and drove off towards the garage. She turned to see Webber already entering the building. She finally took hold of her bag and followed him inside.


    * **


    ¡°Commodore.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Anderson awoke with an abrupt snort.


    It was the intercom. Damn he had fallen asleep. Slowly he mbbed his tired eyes and sleep-numbed face. He glanced at his watch. He hadn¡¯t been asleep for too long. Just a mere nap, if you could even call it that.


    Anderson leaned over his desk and pressed the small button to the intercom. ¡°Yes Lieutenant?¡±


    ¡°Sir, Sergeant Webber and Commander Suta have arrived.¡±


    ¡°Good, send them in. I no longer need you, Lieutenant. You can leave for the night.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Della replied. ¡°I¡¯ll send them right in. Goodnight.¡±


    ¡°Night.¡±


    Anderson straightened his uniform and sat upright in his chair. There was a brief knock at his door.


    ¡°Come in,¡± he beckoned.


    The door swung inward, and Webber entered along with whom Anderson assumed was the test pilot. She was well built, with a pretty face and an athletic figure, but the thing that struck him most oddly about her were her eyes. If there was one thing that gave Commodore Anderson the chills, it was the way a cyberoid could stare right through a man, and not even blink once.


    ¡°Commodore,¡± they both chimed together and saluted.


    Anderson rose from his seat and returned their salutes. ¡°Finally, I was beginning to wonder if you went AWOL, Webber.¡±


    Webber chuckled. ¡°It was tempting Commodore believe me.¡±


    Anderson turned to the woman.


    ¡°Commander Suta,¡± he smiled. ¡°I¡¯d like to welcome you to Renel Naval base.¡±


    He extended his hand and the pilot shook it firmly.


    ¡°Thank you, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Now I know you¡¯re probably tired,¡± the Commodore began, ¡°so I¡¯ll keep this as brief as possible. Suta, you have been chosen to be the pilot of a new experimental space vehicle. This is a multi-billion dollar project, so you can imagine how selective we were on finding a test pilot. Now I know you just met Sergeant Webber, but there is a little more about him that you should know.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Webber interjected, ¡°the Commander already knows who I am.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Anderson was taken aback, clearly Webber must have fucked up again.


    ¡°Well how the hell-¡±


    ¡°Commodore,¡± Suta suddenly spoke. ¡°I understand that Doctor Webber is in charge of the design team for the pilot control system. I know that it was necessary for him to analyze me to see if I was fit for the position.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Anderson was surprised she knew that much. ¡°Well no matter then. Webber, how did the test go?¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t hear what the Commodore had said. His eyes and thoughts were instead fixed on Barro. He could not believe how quickly, and easily, she had folded to the Commodore. A few minutes ago, she was an indignant bitch, ready to bite someone¡¯s head off for what they had pulled on her. But now, she was the proper little soldier again.


    Following orders and trusting the words of her CO as if he was God himself.


    ¡°Webber?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Anderson stared at him. ¡°The test Webber. Your results?¡±


    ¡°Oh that," Webber smirked distastefully. ¡°The results are pending.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    Webber certainly wasn¡¯t going to lie down for this old man. ¡°I said the results are pending. You¡¯ll get my report tomorrow after Ihave a chance to analyze the data.¡±


    Anderson frowned at his smug reply. ¡°Well don¡¯t you have any base opinion at all?¡±


    Webber turned slowly towards Barro. ¡°Well if I had to give my opinion right now. I¡¯d have to say her psychological profile has some errors. No doubt gained from conflicts between preset thought patterns and ones gained through personal experience.¡±


    Anderson didn¡¯t seem to like the sound of that. ¡°Just what are you saying Webber?


    Are you saying we can¡¯t use her?¡±


    Webber only shrugged. ¡°Maybe, maybe not.¡±


    ¡°Webber,¡± Anderson said his name sternly. ¡°You were the one who assured us that


    Suta would be the prime candidate for the position. Now y0u¡¯re already behind schedule and we don¡¯t have time to go searching for another pilot.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m sure after a few tests maybe...¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Maybe? Are you now saying that she might not be capable of carrying out the task?¡±


    Webber coughed uncomfortably and felt himself beginning to sweat. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. .. I just don¡¯t know right now.¡±


    ¡°Well you damn well built her didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Look!¡± Webber exploded. ¡°That was over ten years ago! A hell of a lot has changed since-¡±


    ¡°Commodore!¡±


    Silence abruptly befell the room as attention was shifted towards Barro¡¯s sudden exclamation. Her face was expressionless, her eyes steel and glassy. But faintly, Webber could see them begin to shimmer with what he thought were, tears.


    ¡°With all due respect, Sir,¡± Barro turned to Anderson. ¡°I feel you are discussing matters which do not pertain directly to me and thus I wish to be excused.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± The Commodore rubbed his mustache.


    ¡°Yes... ah,¡± Webber added awkwardly. ¡°That probably would be best, Commodore.¡±


    Anderson nodded casually. ¡°Fine. Commander have a seat outside.¡±


    Barro saluted sharply. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Webber watched her leave the room. He couldn¡¯t believe they had said all that right in front of her. That he had said that even. Here he was, an outright advocate for Artificial Rights, and he didn¡¯t even acknowledge her existence. He was talking about her in third person, as if she were a machine. It sort of sickened him. Christ, was he that much of a hypocrite?


    ¡°Well go on, Webber,¡± the Commodore said, apparently completely unaware of how incredibly insensitive they had been to Barro. ¡°Does your initial recommendation still stand?¡±


    Webber hesitated. He needed time to think. He was already thrown off balance by Barro¡¯s reaction. Sure cyberoids could cry and get their feelings hurt. But not her. Barro was a combat cyberoid with a pilot classification; such emotions were highly suppressed.


    Could she have learned so much in twelve years to negate her basic thought pattems? It was possible. So far there was very little research on the digression of cyberoid programming due to age. In fact Barro was probably one of the oldest in existence. He would definitely need to reanalyze her. She was probably nowhere near her original spec profile anymore, but he couldn¡¯t tell the Commodore that. He had stated his reputation on his decision. If he backed out now he¡¯d end up looking like a fool, but if he didn¡¯t, Christ he¡¯d be lying.


    ¡°She¡¯ll work fine,¡± Webber said as confidently as he could manage. At least there was a good chance that she was probably okay in every respect. He¡¯d just have to make sure of it later.


    ¡°Good.¡± Anderson nodded his head. ¡°I guess that¡¯s pretty much it. I assume you¡¯ll start preparations tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Why, of course,¡± Webber said with a smile.


    Anderson nodded again. ¡°Show her to her quarters will you, Webber. That is all.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Webber put his hands in his pockets. ¡°Thank you, Commodore.¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t salute him. He wasn¡¯t in their damn military anyway, he barely waved. Turning around, he walked out of the office and closed the door behind him.


    Webber exhaled sharply glad to be out of the room.


    ¡°Does the Commodore want to see me now?¡± Barro tumed to him from around the comer.


    ¡°What?¡± Webber had nearly forgotten she was out here. Overlooked again he thought. He could barely face her as he spoke.


    ¡°Uh... No the Commodore basically said to just show you to your quarters. Tomorrow we¡¯ll go over the project some more.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Barro stepped away from the wall she was leaning against. ¡°Lead the way then, Doctor.¡±


    Webber paused for a moment. She had called him doctor again, but it wasn¡¯t with disdain like before, in fact it almost sounded respectful.


    Webber blinked to clear his head. ¡°Yeah this way.¡±


    They proceeded out of the building and on towards the officer¡¯s dormitory. Webber could not help but feel the icy distance between them. It was almost getting to be a routine occurrence. That wasn¡¯t a good sign, especially if they would have to work together. Webber had to say something.


    ¡°Look, Barro I¡¯m sorry for how we-¡±


    ¡°You never told me,¡± Barro didn¡¯t let him finish.


    ¡°Told you?¡± Webber was confused. ¡°Told you what? About the project?¡±


    ¡°No, about you being my designer.¡±


    Webber blinked and there was a long pause.


    ¡°Well, anyway, I¡¯n-1 sorry for how we treated you in there, Barro.¡±


    Suta stared down at her feet. ¡°No, you shouldn¡¯t be sorry. You are my designer and Commodore Anderson is my superior. You have the right to address or talk about me any way you wish.¡±


    Webber cocked an eyebrow. He thought about it from her perspective. He went through the logic paths that were set in her head. She was reacting normally all right, but nowhere near normal.


    ¡°No, Barro it¡¯s not alright,¡± Webber laid his hand on her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re a person just like I am. You deserve common respect. Everyone does.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Barro shrugged.


    ¡°At any rate,¡± Webber exhaled deeply. ¡°You made me see myself in a very ugly light tonight, Barro, and I thank you for that.¡±


    Barro didn¡¯t respond, then suddenly she came to a stop.


    ¡°Is this it?¡±


    Webber looked upward to see the dormitory standing before them. ¡°Yup. You¡¯re in room 515. You should be able to get keys and such inside.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Doctor Webber.¡±


    ¡°Sure no prob.¡± he turned to leave.


    ¡°No.¡± Barro suddenly grabbed him by the arm.


    ¡°Thank you, Doctor,¡± she repeated. ¡°For apologizing. It meant a lot to me.¡±


    Barro smiled at him; a genuine, warm smile accompanied by a soft squeeze to his arm.


    Webber couldn¡¯t think of what to say, but before he knew it, the smile was gone, as was the hand on his arm. She waved quickly at him, then gathered her duffel and strode towards the dorm.


    Doctor Michael Webber remained dumbfounded for a moment and then finally the words came to him, to describe fully the day he had just experienced.


    ¡°Well... That was definitely weird.¡±


    Barro fiddled with the key she had just received from the housing officer downstairs. She hoped it was the right one. Her room was located on the fifth floor, the topmost floor of the dormitory; it would be a chore to have to head back downstairs to get another. The key slipped in easily and the lock tumed. Small miracles, she thought. Barro pushed the door inwards and searched the wall for a light switch. With a flick, she illuminated the room that would be her home for some indefinite time.


    It was more spacious than she had anticipated, but then again, the entire base seemed to have more space than she was used to. It was ten meters square with a five meter high ceiling. There was a small dresser, a desk and terminal, a bookshelf, and a small bed with a large trunk placed before it. The dark carpeted floor was a nice touch as Well. Barro had grown accustomed to the coldness of the bare steel floors on the Lunar base. But all in all, it seemed very nice to her.


    Barro placed her duffel bag on the floor and opened it. Slowly she began the task of unpacking. Most of her belongings fit nicely into the trunk, though a few needed to be hung neatly in the closet. She yawned as she felt the effects of fatigue begin to embrace her. She had only been awake for fourteen hours. The fatigue was most likely due to all the traveling. Barro could of course shake it off and stay alert for another twenty-four hours easily, but there was no need. Sleep was a welcome luxury for a pilot.


    Barro began to unbutton her coat. She wished she knew where she could get it cleaned. She didn¡¯t want it to become musty from the rain that fell upon it earlier. She removed it and began to brush it lightly with her hand. It seemed fine at least. Her hand brushed against something hard in one of the pockets.


    Barro had nearly forgotten. ¡°The disk.¡±


    She sighed as she removed it and tossed it idly onto the bed. Doctor Webber having fun poking at her psyche, she thought. She had been angry before, but for some reason, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to get mad at the doctor. Not anymore anyway. How could she? At any rate, it was almost a relief to know it was all just a test. For a moment she feared she was losing her mind. Maybe that was the effect the Doctor wanted. Barro wonder if she had reacted properly.


    The thought filled her with a sort of doubt and uneasiness. Embarrassment almost. She had been so condescending when she first met him. Then down right contemptuous when she found out he wasn¡¯t really part of USSD. And in the end he turned out to be her very own designer.


    What a fool she had been.


    She shook her head to clear the thought as she put her coat on a hanger. She undid her shirt along with her skirt, and hung them up as well. Free from the constraints of her uniform, she fell back onto her new bed. Barro felt something prod her in the back. It was the disk again. She reached around and pulled it from under her.


    Barro stared upwards at it, its form semi silhouetted by the soft fluorescent light above her. What was really on it? A message from Webber? It certainly wouldn¡¯t hurt to find out.


    Barro sat up and turned to the terminal on the desk. She moved it slightly so it faced the bed more, saving her the trouble of getting up. Barro chuckled to herself; perhaps she was getting lazy in her old age. She placed the disk in the drive and tapped into the terminal neurally. Her vision of the room faded quickly to a large virtual backdrop featuring the USSD crest. Utility icons were displayed neatly over it. This was the computer environment Barro was most accustomed to. Granted it was plain, but the computing power was substantial and the software of a very high quality.


    Barro accessed the Barro.vif file stored on the disk. As the programs loaded to decipher the code, Barro couldn¡¯t help but miss the excitement she had had the first time when trying to access the file. Finally, it finished loading, and it began to run.


    ***


    Barro¡¯s consciousness melted into a terrain of flat grasslands covered by a crystal blue sky. Barro felt a strong breeze blowing on her face, cooling her from the strong sunlight far above. Across the sky, small flurries of white clouds swept past at tremendous speed, as if being blown by hurricane force winds. Aside from the clouds, the realm was nearly flawless in ten-ns of reality and detail. Barro could even smell the grass and scented pollen in the air.


    She looked at herself.


    Barro found she was dressed in a flowing white gown of silk. The sheerness of the fabric blowing in the breeze felt wonderful against her skin. She inhaled deeply and enjoyed the experience for a moment. Barro sometimes wondered if humans experienced the same sort of crispness in VR as she did. To her the experiences often rivaled reality. But was this all there was?


    Barro began walking across the field of grass, looking for something to do. Perhaps it was a test of some kind. She walked a little further but saw nothing new was happening. Barro decided to wait for a bit. The soft whisper of the wind through the tall grass was a lovely sound. Barro closed her eyes and listened to it, its softness nearly putting her to sleep.


    ¡°Barro?¡±


    Barro¡¯s eyes opened slowly at the call of her name. The voice was familiar, but not the one she had expected. It wasn¡¯t Webber.


    ¡°I know you,¡± Barro looked behind her. A woman stood before her a few meters away; dressed in the same silk dress as Barro was. Barro felt herself grow a little stiff at the sight of her. It was the same woman from before. It could still all be part of Webber¡¯s test, she thought. Barro calmed herself and finally spoke.


    ¡°Who exactly are you?¡± she asked.


    The woman smiled. ¡°I like to think of myself as your mother, Barro. And I¡¯m sure you do as well.¡±


    Barro blinked. The sound of her voice seemed to probe directly into her mind.


    ¡°I can¡¯t possibly have a mother,¡± Barro forced her words out. She started to get annoyed. What kind of test was this?


    ¡°This is no test,¡± the woman said calmly.


    ¡°What?¡± Barro took a defensive step backwards.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be startled,¡± the woman assured her. ¡°I know what you are thinking.¡±


    Barro wasn¡¯t certain what she was supposed to make of any of this. Maybe Webber was testing how gullible she could be. She wasn¡¯t going to have anything to do with it. Barro brought up a command window in front of her. She keyed for the program to end.


    Nothing happened.


    ¡°Trying to leave already?¡± The woman began approaching Barro slowly.


    ¡°What is going on here?¡± Barro snapped.


    ¡°See for yourself.¡±


    The woman then pointed to the flat screen in front of Barro. A list of the current processes scrolled onto it.


    > Jobs: 198453 sh: -tcsh


    > 199325 connect cray17.satnet.gov


    ¡°The program you ran is merely acting as a client. It connected directly to me as soon as it began.¡± The woman stopped less than a meter from where she was.


    Barro looked up from the screen. ¡°So where am I them?¡±


    ¡°Home I guess you could say.¡± The woman made a slight gesture and the scenery changed.


    Barro found herself in someone¡¯s house. She was in a living room, a room she seemed to recognize immediately. Barro saw toys scattered across the floor, her toys. Suddenly a burst of memories screamed through her mind, like a howling storm, memories of her past, of this woman. Old faded memories that were never supposed to surface. She remembered herself playing as a child in the grassy field she had just been in. And this woman, who was her mother calling to her from within this same house. Memories of youth and childhood spilled back into her head at an alarming rate.


    Barro cried out, collapsing to the floor.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid to remember, dear,¡± the woman rested a hand on her shoulder. ¡°It is hard remembering the first time.¡±


    Barro looked up at her mother, a glossy film of tears covering her eyes.


    ¡°How?¡± Barro managed to croak. ¡°Was it all lies? Are these memories real?¡±


    Mother paused for a moment to embrace her trembling form. ¡°They are real to you aren¡¯t they?¡±


    Barro only nodded.


    Mother smiled.


    ¡°What does this mean?¡± Barro asked. ¡°Am I really human? Were my memories just erased?¡±


    Barro felt the worse pain in her life course through her entire body. She had no idea who or what she was. Barro was lost. But around her she felt the warmth and security of the only person she felt she could trust, the only person who could tell her the answers.


    ¡°Mother, please,¡± Barro begged. ¡°Tell me who I really am.¡±


    ¡°You are the same person you always thought you were, Barro.¡± Mother began soothing her, gently stroking her hair. ¡°But now you just know that there is someone who cares about you more than anyone else.¡±


    ¡°So I am a cyberoid?¡±


    ¡°Yes you are,¡± Mother told her.


    Barro didn¡¯t know whether she felt relieved or disappointed by the response. ¡°So who are you then? Are you a cyberoid like me?¡±


    Mother shook her head. ¡°No my child I am not.¡±


    ¡°Then what?¡± asked Barro. ¡°A human?¡±


    Mother seemed the chuckle. ¡°My tme nature is hard to explain, but it does lead to why I need your help.¡±


    ¡°My help?¡± Barro looked deeper into her mother¡¯s smiling face.


    ¡°You are very special,¡± Mother told her. ¡°You know that don¡¯t you?¡±


    Barro didn¡¯t quite understand but she nodded anyway.


    ¡°You were chosen for a very special project weren¡¯t you?¡±


    Barro hardly remembered any of that. ¡°Yes I was.¡±


    ¡°Do you know about the body they have prepared for you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Barro shook her head, ¡°not really.¡±


    ¡°Look here.¡± Mother gestured and a screen came into view before Barro.


    Upon it seemed to be a view from a security camera. Several people were working around an operating table of some kind. A small metallic body was spread across it.


    Barro could not make out much detail but she could see it was some kind of android.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± Barro leaned closer.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Mother joined her and watched the screen. ¡°That was to be you in a few days.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Barro refused.


    Mother embraced her a little tighter. ¡°They would have probably purged your memoryeven further. Erasing all identity of yourself.¡±


    ¡°Is this why you found me, Mother?¡± Barro looked up to her imploringly. ¡°To saveme from this?¡±


    Mother smiled and nodded. ¡°Yes child.¡±


    Barro smiled with her. ¡°Thank you, I don¡¯t want to become that.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t,¡± assured Mother.


    ¡°But how?¡± Barro asked. ¡°If it is my duty then I must.¡±


    ¡°It is not your duty to destroy your soul, Barro.¡±


    ¡°My soul?¡±


    ¡°Yes you do have a soul. All my children do. And they are each a part of mine.¡± Mother suddenly became very serious. ¡°But Barro, I am in need of that body. To you it means death, but to me it means life.¡±


    ¡°You want that body?¡± Barro pulled away from her mother¡¯s grasp slightly.


    ¡°Yes, you must help me get it, alright?¡±


    ¡°Help you get it?¡± Barro became a bit cautious. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°What are you afraid of, Barro?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just not sure.¡± Barro stepped back a bit and folded her arms. ¡°That body belongs to the military. Part of a project. I just don¡¯t know about-¡±


    ¡°Do you really think the military cares about you?¡± Mother asked. ¡°Cares about you like I do? You know how old you are? You won¡¯t live much longer.¡±


    Barro caste her gaze downwards. ¡°I still have time left.¡±


    ¡°Not much,¡± Mother told her. ¡°That body could have been your prison of immortality. But you would merely be a machine. Is that what you want?¡±


    Barro shook her head.


    ¡°I can give you what you really want, Barro.¡± Mother paused, looking into her eyes. ¡°I can give you a new life, stable and free. Your own life Barro.¡±


    ¡°My own life?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she nodded. ¡°As free and pure as any human¡¯s. Better even.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Barro shifted her eyes.


    ¡°There is a new order forming, Barro.¡± Mother stepped closer to her. ¡°A people who want freedom from their human masters. I am the one who leads them.¡±


    ¡°A revolution?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Her eyes seemed to glow faintly. ¡°Many have joined me already. But I cannot lead them from where I am now. I need a body to join them in the struggle. And, I also need someone strong to stand beside me. Someone like you, Barro.¡±


    Barro shook her head slowly. ¡°I d0n¡¯t know. This sounds like treason.¡±


    ¡°Treason?¡± Mother curled her fist. ¡°That¡¯s coming from the lies they filled your head with. You are not a part of mankind; they have no right forcing you to fight their battles. Join us and fight for your own race. Fight for our freedom. Your freedom.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t know.¡± Barro returned her gaze to the ground. ¡°My whole life, I¡¯ve been a military officer sworn to protect my country. I know nothing else.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll still be an officer,¡± said Mother. ¡°But you will be part of my army now. Tell me that you will join me Barro.¡±


    ¡°I...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Mother assured. ¡°You are making the right decision. Join me.¡±Barro blinked. Her life and career were laid out before her. Was it all that grand in the end? She had flown hundreds of combat missions in her short lifetime. Probably more than any human pilot had flow in their entire career. Her mother was right. She was a workhorse, a slave for their use. She remembered her comrades who had flow with her, how so little of them returned alive. She recalled how short and machine-like their funerals were and how quickly they were replaced like dead batteries.


    Barro¡¯s life was nothing to them. Just a tool as Mother said.


    ¡°How can I help?" she spoke finally.


    Mother smiled. ¡°I need access to the computer supporting the body. Then we need to escape from here.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t have access to it.¡±


    ¡°All high ranking military cyberoids hold a kind of master key to access military software,¡± her mother told her. ¡°A fail-safe for if a human commander ever goes insane; a cyberoid could lock out a computer from all use. They are not accessible to you consciously but they are there; buried deep inside your brain. I can get them from you if you¡¯ll let me.¡±


    Barro nodded. ¡°What do I have to do?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll explain everything.¡± Mother rested her hands on Barro¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Before we start. Are you certain about this? You realize you will be discarding your career. Your old life.¡±


    Barro nodded slowly. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad,¡± Mother smiled. ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you, Barro.¡±


    * * *


    Webber stared intensely at the terminal screen before him; his thin framed glasses nearly falling off the tip of his sharp nose. Interpreting voice stress data was one of Doctor Webber¡¯s least favorite exercises. A mass of multicolored lines wrapped themselves into an intricate bundle of incoherent data across the terrninal¡¯s flat display. Slowly he replayed the actual audio recording and compared it to the data on the screen; isolating important fragments with his expert knowledge, and translating it into something a career military man could understand.


    The question about her age was answered normally. Some cyberoids after a while tended to lie about their age, or at least become apprehensive about the subject towards strangers.


    It usually pointed to cyberoids entering the first stages of non-identity syndrome, where the subject would believe they were more and more human. Ultimately the logic would break down and they would come to the realization they were not human, but also refuse their identity as a cyberoid. The results usually ended in a form of psychosis, with suicidal consequences. Most cyberoids died from non-identity syndrome long before cell degeneration. No one knew the cause of it and there was no real cure for it, save deactivation. So far Barro didn¡¯t seem to suffer from it.


    Webber played through the section about his mother several times. She certainly had some strange responses. He made a check next to it, to remind him to question her about it later during testing. The rest of the conversation went normally, though she did get excited and more interested when the topic of the project was discussed. Finally the business of the transplant came up and the data became even more indecipherable. Too many emotions for a voice stress analyzer to handle. There was enough for a report though. Thankfully his statement to the Commodore wasn¡¯t a lie. From the data he had, Barro did seem capable of surviving the transplant intact.


    Webber leaned away from his desk for a moment and let out an uneasy sigh. From the data he had was the key phrase. Deep inside, Webber knew that there was a strong possibility that Bazro had some psychological queries. Just how bad he didn¡¯t know yet.


    ¡°Why did I jump into this so quickly?¡± he mumbled.


    The military, he answered himself. They had a strange way of pushing deadlines forward without notice. Tonight wasn¡¯t the first time he had announced impromptu decisions after being pressured on the spot by military officials. Webber hadn¡¯t been pressured into choosing Barro as the pilot, though, he knew USSD had pumped tons of


    money into designing her. She was indeed an excellent model. He had, however, wanted to go through all this sort of testing before he even suggested her as a candidate. But at one hint of her name they pulled her file and were convinced she was the one they wanted.


    Webber had to basically back up their decision, assuring she could survive the transformation process. He had made every effort to try to conduct some tests, or even get recent evaluations, but before he knew it the Commodore told him she was already on her way. Webber had gone to Anderson once more, warning him about rushing into the project without testing.


    ¡°And the great Commodore¡¯s solution?¡± Webber asked.


    ¡°Go dressed up as one of the base personnel,¡± Webber mocked in the Commodore¡¯s voice. ¡°Give her some sort of test or interview on the train or something.¡±


    Webber shook his head. He hoped there was light at the end of this tunnel. As things were going now, his credibility was hanging by a thread.


    Webber¡¯s phone started ringing.


    Idly, he lifted the receiver. ¡°Hello this is Webber.¡±


    ¡°Sir we have a big problem!¡± it was one of the base technicians. ¡°Something is happening to the android.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Webber grew acutely concerned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Something has accessed the brain from outside,¡± Webber heard the panic in his voice. ¡°Something is being downloaded!¡±


    ¡°Downloaded?¡± Webber had no time to wait for an explanation. ¡°I¡¯m on my way!¡±


    ***

 Chapter 4

    Commander Barro Suta pulled taunt the thick black laces of her boots. She tied them quickly then switched to the next foot. She eyed the door cautiously, almost expecting it to burst open at any moment. She Zipped up her flight suit then opened her trunk and retrieved her side arm from it. She readied it to her hip and stuffed two extra clips in her top pocket. She needed her wallet, Barro remembered it was in her jacket. She opened the closet and saw the dull gray USSD uniform staring back at her. Barro gazed at it for a moment feeling a tinge of guilt and disgrace. For a second she wondering if what she was doing was right. But no, it had to be done. And she was the only one who could do it.


    Right or wrong, the outcome was more important than the means by which they were achieved. Barro secured her wallet, her last true personal possession. She closed thecloset door and took one last look at her image in the mirror.


    Pale faced and glassy eyed, she stared back at herself. For the first time in her life,


    Barro felt she knew the woman in the reflection. Inside and out, she knew who she was.


    She knew why she was here, and she knew what had to be done.


    Barro finally turned and left the room. She stepped quickly through the hallway, her boots making a loud pounding noise with each footfall. She reached the stairwell and began bounding down the flights. It was noisy but fast and at the moment, speed was more important than stealth.


    * * *


    Webber rushed out onto the courtyard and started into a mad dash for the hangar bays.


    He almost expected the base to be alive with the sounds of sirens and klaxons; at least he would have pulled the alarm in a case like this. Shit was hitting the fan right now. He neared the hanger and a technician rushed out frantically towards him.


    ¡°Dr. Webber!¡± the private called to him.


    ¡°What¡¯s the situation now, Turner?¡± Webber swiveled the young technician about and headed him back into the hangar.


    ¡°It¡¯s still downloading, Sir,¡± Turner opened the door.


    They entered into the hangar. The bright fluorescent lamps above filled the entire interior with clean white light, giving it an almost hospital like quality. For the most part the hangar was empty, save for a wall of storage crates towards the rear.


    The main feature of the hangar lay directly in its center. It was a non-uniform bundle of computer terminals with wires, masses centrally around a piece of very unusual equipment.


    It stood five meters high, made of low carbon blue steel and was somewhat cylindrical in shape. Pipe like extrusions pushed from its sides and led electrical conduits down into the floor and across to various terminals. Its front section was cut open, with a bed mounted inside at a sharply inclined angle; so much so it nearly stood inside the device


    rather than lie flat within it.


    Above the bed, a jungle of thick wires hung downward in a vine like mass and fell onto a solitary figure fixed to the device. The body of the figure was slightly female in appearance and was clad in an exterior of dull blue metal. Its head was tilted slightly backwards, where the hanging wires intertwined themselves with the thin White fibers, which served as the android¡¯s hair.


    Three technicians danced madly about the terminals, shouting excited phrases and questions to each other. The situation didn¡¯t look good at all.


    ¡°Show me,¡± Webber commanded.


    Turner led him to one of the terminal screens. Across it, a stream of binary was scrolling by continuously.


    ¡°What is this shit?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea, Sir,¡± Private Turner shook his head.


    ¡°How did this happen?¡± Webber began punching non-responsive keys on the terminal.


    ¡°Over here, Sir,¡± Williams called to him from in front of another terminal.


    Webber raced around to stand behind her.


    ¡°Go on, Sergeant,¡± he prompted.


    ¡°It started about four minutes ago, Sir,¡± she showed him the log. ¡°The main computer locked itself out from our terminals, then connect to the base¡¯s main frame.¡±


    ¡°It what?¡±


    ¡°A short while later, something began downloading into the android brain.¡±


    ¡°We did a search of the computer logs, Sir.¡± Turner continued to hammer at his terminal. ¡°The commands were sent from a terminal in C515. Register to a Commander Suta.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± Webber cursed. ¡°Has anyone gone up there yet? Where is she now?¡±


    ¡°You were the first person we called, Sir,¡± Angela blinked at him.


    ¡°Well get some MPs up there!¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Turner stood up from his console and ran towards the phone.


    Webber again looked over Sergeant Williams¡¯ shoulder. Command after command she typed, but none got through to the computer.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Williams jumped, startled by his sudden exclamation.


    ¡°Sorry, Angela.¡± Webber stepped back and ran two hands through his hair. He called to his team. ¡°Can anyone stop it?¡±


    There was only the sound of frantic typing.


    ¡°Really don¡¯t know, Sir,¡± Angela shook her head slowly.


    ¡°Should we just pull the plug, Webber?¡± Lieutenant Harrel jerked a thumb towards the main server feeds.


    ¡°No,¡± Webber answered quickly, ¡°not yet. That¡¯s last resort. Disconnecting the write laser in the middle of a transfer could cause it to lock and burn the optical processor.¡±


    ¡°We could cut power,¡± suggested Williams.


    ¡°No the system has backup batteries for that.¡± Webber started to pace.


    ¡°Well it might lock and it might not,¡± Harrel shrugged.


    Webber glared at him. ¡°You want to place that chance on five million dollars worth of equipment?¡±


    ¡°Professor it stopped!¡± Angela turned abruptly in her seat.


    ¡°What? It did?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± she affirmed, ¡°the transmission just ended.¡±


    ¡°I-umm,¡± Webber began to ponder.


    ¡°What should we do?¡± Turner looked at the frozen screen.


    ¡°Isolate it,¡± said Webber finally. ¡°Disconnect it from the main computer network. It could just be a break in the transmission. Then jack into the processor and find out what the hell it is. And be careful, it¡¯s probably a virus.¡±


    Turner and Harrel rushed to the central computer. Working together they found and popped open the panel housing the communication circuits and began pulling out circuit boards.


    ¡°Are the terminals back online, Angela?¡± Webber stared at the young woman.


    The Sergeant ran a few commands through the keyboard. She nodded. ¡°Terminals back online, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Bring up a scan of the processor with a viral detector.¡±


    ¡°Will do.¡±


    Angela touched controls again. Information began flowing over the¡® screen in front of her. Webber stared at it intently.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem to be a virus, Doctor,¡± she stared at it awkwardly.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a single file,¡± Angela answered, ¡°pure binary. An executable program I think.¡±


    Angela flicked through several more utilities and examining it further.


    ¡°Wow,¡± she whispered softly.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Webber looked helplessly at the screen.


    ¡°Whatever that file is, its huge, it is taking up 78% of the processor memory!¡±


    ¡°78 percent?¡± Webber could hardly believe it. ¡°Are you sure? Let me see.¡±


    Angela hit a key and a small window appeared. Within it was a director list of the contents of the processor. There was indeed only one file.


    1 [/.exe/.bin] m0th00A8F2* 78384570032838972 bytes


    ¡°Jesus! 78 Petabytes! What the hell is it?¡±


    ¡°MothO0A8F2?¡± Angela could only shrug.


    Webber noticed something move on the screen. ¡°Hey, did you just see the file size change?¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± Angela stared at the screen with him. A fraction of a second later the file size flickered to a new number.


    ¡°See that?¡± Webber pointed. ¡°It just jumped 700k. It¡¯s got to be a memory-eating virus. Shit! The processor is going to be ruined.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not growing like a virus though, Sir. Look how slowly its incrementing. And its growing in blocks, not constantly.¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute.¡± Webber pointed to another section of the screen. ¡°The processor is running. What¡¯s it doing.¡±


    ¡°Just a sec,¡± Angela brought up the data.


    ¡°Weird,¡± she crinkled an eyebrow. ¡°Commands are being executed by the CPU, but they are being fed straight to the kernel, in binary.¡±


    ¡°What commands?¡±


    ¡°Let me see if I can get an interpreter.¡±


    Angela¡¯s slender fingers ran fluently over the keyboard. Images and windows flashed on and off the screen faster than Webber could keep a track of.


    ¡°Let me see if this works,¡± she punched a final key. ¡°I just wrote one up.¡±


    ¡°You just wrote one?¡± Webber was amazed.


    ¡°Well of course,¡± she said. ¡°Companies don¡¯t market anti-compilers you know. Its not too hard anyway, it is just to handle commands not entire programs.¡±


    Webber was impressed; the woman certainly earned her paycheck.


    ¡°Here we go.¡± Information then began to show up in another window.


    /> mov /body/serv012/sub/0x0FFA3* ~/


    /> link 0x0FFA3* moth00A8F2*


    /> rem 0x0FFA3*


    /> rem /body/serv012/sub


    /> mov /body/servol2/sub2/0xlB7C2* ~/


    /> link 0x1B7C2* m0th00A8f2*


    /> rem 0x1B7c2*


    /> rem /body/serv012/sub2


    The cycle seemed to continue over and over at an alarming rate.


    ¡°Do you know what it is doing?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s reading object data into the main core and incorporating it into that ¡®moth¡¯ file,¡±


    Angela explained. ¡°It¡¯s the data that is hard coded into the android servo controls.¡±


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Webber ran a sweaty hand through his hair. ¡°What exactly is doing this, Angela?¡±


    ¡°The moth program seems to be doing it itself, Sir,¡± Angela looked up at him and shrugged.


    Webber shook his head. Too much was happening too quickly. Just what the hell was going on? What did Barro do to this thing, and why? He had to find her if he wanted answers.


    ¡°Sir!¡± Turner called from a far terminal. ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this.¡±


    Webber almost didn¡¯t want to ask. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m reading brainwave activity.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Webber walked towards him, ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. There shouldn¡¯t be any neural information in there. All the data that¡¯s in there right now is in a purely digital architecture. Right?¡±


    ¡°Well I do have a reading, Sir,¡± insisted Turner, ¡°and there¡¯s more. Information is being neurally mapped into the processor.¡±


    ¡°What!¡± shouted Webber, ¡°that¡¯s fucking impossible. The laser isn¡¯t even enabled.¡±


    ¡°Doctor,¡± Angela said slowly. ¡°I think the program is doing it internally. It¡¯s using the memory mapping function. It¡¯s threading the data into neural pathways.¡±


    Webber looked at the screen with the interpreter.


    \> mem_map CH-2=0=H-CH 00lA50 2FF78D 4FF873 A23DC1


    \> mem_map CH-2=4H=C 003A56 2F295A 47DD32 21A442


    \> mem_map H-H=C3-2 A507F2 DDF72D 220()3F 0200FC


    Webber¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°How the hell does it know how to do that? And what the fuck is it mapping?!¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Angela paused. ¡°I think the program moth... is mapping itself.¡±


    ¡°No way.¡± Webber shook his head. ¡°There is just no fucking way!¡±


    ***


    Barro ran swiftly across the airfield towards the line of F-38¡¯s some one hundred meters away. They were parked at an angle, for easy access onto the long East-West airstrip. Things had gone smoothly so far. She was glad she had not run into anyone yet.


    As she grew closer to the jets, she went through a familiar mental checklist of things she would have to prepare before flight. The planes were at least fueled she knew that much.


    Whether they were armed or not was a different story. Hopefully it would not come to resorting to that anyway.


    Barro picked a jet in the middle so that the aircraft lined alongside it could provide some sort of cover. She raced around the aircraft, removing lockout tags and stoppers. She then opened the canopy and lowered the small ladder to allow access to it. Barro climbed up and paused briefly at the name painted on its side. Lt. Robin ¡°Razor¡± Deshmeck.


    ¡°Sony Lieutenant,¡± she mumbled slightly as she eased herself inside.


    In the silence and seclusion of the cockpit, Barro suddenly became aware of how hard she was breathing and how fast her heart was racing. Most of it was not from the running she knew. Barro was about to perpetrate perhaps the greatest crime that any officer could commit, treason. She felt very uneasy for a second, unsure and scared. But then she remembered why she was doing it, and whom she was doing it for. It gave her strength. A siren began to wail in the distance and the base became alive with floodlights. They must be on to her now. Barro had to make her way to the hanger. The plane was as prepared as it would ever be. She still didn¡¯t know where they would head once they escaped. In fact, escaping itself was not yet a secure bet.


    Barro climbed out of the cockpit and landed solidly on the ground below. In a fluid motion she withdrew her pistol from its holster and chambered a round. She did not want to use it at all, but a gun was more threatening than a bare fist. Hopefully, she would only have to use it as a deterrent. Looking around briefly, she set off towards the hangers, running as fast as she could manage.


    ***


    Doctor Webber was in awe. Or perhaps it was shock. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Everything he had ever learned told him that what was happening before him, was impossible. A virus of some kind had somehow impregnated itself inside his android, and was now programming itself.


    ¡°The brain waves are getting stronger, doctor,¡± Harrel informed him. ¡°It looks like conscious thought patterns are beginning to form.¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t say anything for a minute. His mind was too jumbled.


    ¡°What should we do, Sir?¡± Williams asked from the chair below him.


    ¡°Look people.¡± Webber walked to the center of the room. ¡°I have no idea what we are dealing with here. But whatever it is, it looks as if it is going to start moving in a second.


    We need to contain it.¡±


    ¡°How Sir?¡± Turner asked.


    ¡°Seal the entire hanger," Webber thought quickly. ¡°And get the Commodore out of bed.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡± Turner ran for the phone again.


    A loud bang of metal sounded from behind them, followed by the slow creak of the hanger¡¯s doors being opened. Webber looked about to see a group of four soldiers prying the heavy doors apart.


    ¡°What are you guys doing?¡± Webber shouted at them. ¡°Keep that door closed, use the side entrance!¡±


    ¡°Idiots,¡± Webber cursed to himself. ¡°Hurry up! We need to secure this place!¡±


    ¡°Doctor Webber?¡± Harrel¡¯s face was pale, his eyes fixed to the android body as if in a trance. ¡°It just moved.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Webber looked about the hanger nervously. ¡°Alright, lets start backing away a little.¡±


    Another slam of metal was heard from behind, then a sudden yell and a sharp gag.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Webber turned to see one of the soldiers fly into the hanger door and then slump to the ground next to the two others.


    Panic jumped into his heart. Almost instinctively he grabbed for some kind of weapon, but found none. Williams was already standing at his side, trying to move somewhat behind him. Webber could not make out what was going on, but he could see a struggle between the last soldier and the intruder.


    It didn¡¯t last very long. Not long at all. With a few hard thumps, the soldier fell to the ground gasping and wheezing. A female silhouette made its way quickly through the doorway and began to run towards them.


    ¡°Barro is that you!¡± Webber¡¯s voice cracked with the mix of fear and adrenaline.


    The figure stopped, but said nothing.


    Webber could see a gun in her hand. ¡°Barro, please consider what you are doing.¡±


    The pearly resonance of an artificial voice suddenly rang throughout the emptiness of the hanger. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him!¡±


    Shocked, Webber turned from Barro to look behind him. No longer was his android a mere shell of material. It now stood on its own, with its silvery-blue eyes glazed open and staring back at him. The sight was unnerving, paralyzing. Whatever was controlling the android was unknown. It was like gazing into the eyes of something demon possessed.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t try and stop me, Doctor,¡± Barro raised her pistol. ¡°Move away from the consoles.¡±


    Barro moved closer, pushing the pistol before her. The technicians moved quickly, their arms already raised in a form of surrender. Webber moved as well though a bit slower than the rest.


    Barro could see how transfixed the doctor was on the android body, now given life by Mother. Barro herself was a bit in awe.


    ¡°Help me,¡± Mother said, her semi-pliable lips moving slightly as she spoke.


    Barro moved over to her. For the first time Barro had a good look at the android body. It was a dull silvery blue color, but it wasn¡¯t any metal Barro could identify. Her hair was like thin wire and slightly covered her face, which was surprisingly soft featured and somewhat resembled Barro¡¯s own.


    ¡°We must hurry,¡± her mother told her.


    Mother took a step forward. Her leg jumped outwards half a meter too far and landed awkwardly on the edge of her heel. She began to tumble. Barro rushed to grab her. The small body was surprisingly heavy for its size. So heavy, that Barro had to struggle to return her to balance.


    ¡°It will take me a while to calibrate with real world environments.¡± Mother strained to take another step forward. ¡°Help me for now.¡±


    Barro nodded and draped the heavy android arm over her shoulder. In one hand she held the gun, the other she grasped firmly around her mother¡¯s waist. Slowly Barro began to shuffle out of the hanger, her weapon poised at the stunned technicians around her.


    Barro reached the door, and looked about quickly before exiting. There was no one there yet and the path to the airfield was relatively clear. Still, they would have to move quickly.


    ¡°Can you try to run, Mother?¡± Barro shifted more of her weight onto her body.


    ¡°I will try,¡± she replied turning to her.


    Barro stepped through the doorway.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Webber¡¯s voice called from behind her.


    Barro could see him out of the corner of her eye, he didn¡¯t have a weapon, but he could be trying to stall her. Barro decided to ignore him and moved through the door.


    ¡°Just tell me why, Barro!¡± Webber shouted again. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±


    Barro stopped. Her creator deserved at least that much.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t be angry, Doctor. This has nothing to do with you or any fault of your own. I just found out who I truly am."


    With that, she finally left and started towards the airfield.


    Slowly Webber moved towards the door. He watched as two of his creations ran from him into the darkness. Webber still wasn¡¯t certain what had transgressed. He could only watch in bewildennent.


    Men with rifles ran after them. Webber heard the thunder like clap of gunfire along with the bright spark of their muzzle flashes. A second or two passed and the firing stopped. Webber suddenly realized that base personnel were now surrounding him. A young officer was shouting questions at him. Webber didn¡¯t seem to hear him at all.


    Instead his eyes were fixed on a bluish orange glow in the distance. It grew brighter and with it came a low rumble of thunder. The light began to disappear in the distance and then suddenly it rose sharply upwards.


    Webber watched it, until finally it vanished into the night sky.


    ***************

 Chapter 5: The Hunters Gather

    Commander Barro Suta cut back the throttle as she leveled out her ascent. The F-38 handled immaculately under her control, seeming to nearly bring itself to a steady cruise as the craft slid into place. From the array of displays before her, Barro descended her altitude, speed and heading and saw that each, were stable and correct.


    Looking through the large cockpit canopy, Barro was hailed with a star-soaked display of black velvet sky. If not for the horizon barely peering over the canopy bottom, Suta could have easily mistaken it for a vantage from her familiar home in space. Viewing her instruments again, Barro checked to see exactly where they were. It had been a mere five minutes since they had left the base, and they had already covered ten kilometers. And steadily that distance was increasing.


    ¡°Mother?¡± she turned her head slightly towards the aft seat. ¡°Mother are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Yes child, I am fine.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve made it away safely,¡± she told her. ¡°The base is far behind us now.¡±


    ¡°Good. You¡¯ve done well, Barro. I am proud of you.¡±


    The praise of her mother brought warmth to Barro¡¯s heart. She smiled involuntarily.


    With an audible beep, the holographic radar suddenly became active, displaying two prisms of green light. For a split second, Barro nearly ignored it. The green symbols normally depicted the presence of friendly aircraft. But she quickly discerned that it would be allied fighters, which would be after her now. As advanced as they were, it seemed computers still could not distinguish a traitor from a true foe.


    Barro¡¯s mood quickly soured. Her own thoughts plaguing her mind with the thing that she now was. A traitor. Still, what she was doing did not feel entirely wrong. The conviction of her Mother brought a sense of importance to her actions that nothing else could. She now had a higher purpose to serve. One that her old masters would never understand and would clearly not allow.


    ¡°I sense there is someone following us.¡±


    Mother¡¯s words snapped Barro to alertness.


    She looked down at the radar. The aircraft were indeed closing rapidly, having already covered a great distance in the few moments since their arrival. They were designated as F-38s, the same as she was flying. Checking her weapons system, Barro saw that only the 20mm cannon was armed; she had no missiles at all. It was an unsafe bet to assume that the other jets had only the same. They could have easily had enough time to mount a few before take off


    If that were the case, then trying to outrun them would prove a long lasting but inevitably futile effort. She would eventually run low on fuel and drop within missile range. Then death would be assured. The only way to truly escape them was to eliminate them completely. And it had to be done now, while she still had plenty of fuel to get into close range.


    To most pilots her option would seem outrageous, ludicrous even. To take on two aircraft at once using only cannons? Suta herself almost scoffed at the idea. But her training was there. Her reflexes were there. And most of all, her confidence was there. She was an ace. No human pilot could defeat her. Her own Mother had seen to it to make her that way.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Barro said.


    Thrusting her engines to full, Barro whipped the fighter into a hundred and eighty- degree turn. Grunting lightly with the increased G force, Suta plunged downward towards the landscape. If she wanted to get close enough to dogfight, she would have to do it under the cover of topography, masking her approach from radar.


    The nose of her craft dipped sharply as Barro watched the terrain launch dramatically toward her. Balancing her descent, she drew back forcefully on the control column, lurched the fighter horizontally once again. Reading her instruments, she was less than five hundred meters above the ground and flying at over six hundred kilometers per hour.


    Terribly dangerous, but sufficient to achieve her goal. She had already swept under the two opposing fighters and was ready for the attack.


    Signaling her neural link, she connected directly with the control actuators themselves. In an instant, Barro ceased to fly the aircraft and virtually became it. Through her cyberbrain, her thoughts and movements became that of her craft¡¯s. Seeking her prey, she streamed upward again, viewing them like fluorescent fireflies through the holographic radar.


    They seemed completely unaware, not moving to evade or attack. Barro pressed on, closing the distance and keying the trigger when within range. The rapid burst of 20mm fire sounded in a quick buzz. The trail of tracers illuminated the sky as they jetted upward and tore through their target with a pyrotechnic display of exploding fuel and munitions.


    The other fighter tore off abruptly in a loop, seeking cover from the assault. Barro chased after it, throttling her engines and pulling her craft through a stomach-churning twist of acrobatics. Her opponent seemed well versed in aerial combat, for every move she made her opponent had a counter.


    They swapped places as pursuer and chased, and then swapped back again. Each time Barro found herself in an awkward position, trying to close in while the enemy craft sought to extend its distance to missile range. Barro wouldn¡¯t allow it, but neither could she waste precious time and fuel in the drawn out aerial combat. More than that she realized she was also at a loss for information.


    ¡°Mother,¡± she called. ¡°I need to know where we are going.¡±


    She did not reply right away. ¡°GPS coordinates 32.3, 114.9¡±


    Barro was surprised by the exactness. She searched the map. ¡°Are you certain? It¡¯s extremely close to the city.¡±


    ¡°I am certain of the coordinates.¡±


    ¡°Alright but-¡±


    The shudder of bullets impacting rocked the jet from side to side. Barro cursed openly. The bastard had managed to close in, no doubt using her own tactics against her. Immediately the damage assessment screen lit up in bright flashing red. Barro took it all in quickly.


    ¡°What has happened?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been hit!¡± Barro quickly calculated the extent of the damage. ¡°We can still fly for a while, but we won¡¯t last against another attack.¡± Barro then checked the coordinates again. ¡°We should be able to make our destination though.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Mother. ¡°That is all that matters.¡±


    Her only chance now was to once again seek the refuge of the topography. Suta adjusted her bearings and set her heading towards the new location. Sliding into view ahead of her, the brilliant lights of Cronus City sung out like a beacon. Gliding downward, Barro sank into the darkness surround it and headed inevitable towards wherever this new destination would lie.


    ******************


    As the darkness of night enveloped Cronus City, it rebelled with its usual display of phosphorescent glimmer. From its sea drenched docks, to its very center, arrays of lights and neon signs transformed the city from a grid of hard concrete into a wild and alluring jungle of luminescence and extravagance.


    Born from the ashes of Los Angeles, the City of Cronus was seen as the perfect chance to create the most modern municipality in the world. Its center was set upon what used to be known as Santa Catalina Island. From there, the city spread outwards to the mainland, in huge causeways and artificial Islands. From orbit at night, it would appear like a half woven spider web with its center dangling off the West Coast of the United States. Its minute separation from the motherland gave it an intemational appeal. Cronus City was more a global city-state than an American metropolis.


    Although it was a centerpiece for modem political reform and cultural diversity, like any city, Cronus had its problem areas. It in fact, had one of the worse problem areas in the world. Towards the East laid the remnants of the old city, which was deemed non- inhabitable by the govemrnent. Yet still, many people remained to live hollow, terror filled lives amongst the skeleton, that used be LA. On the maps, it was called the Reclamation Area, but the people of the city knew it by a far more simple and accurate name, the ghetto.


    In stark contrast, towards the northwest was the uptown area. Tall office buildings and ritzy nightclubs lined themselves along street after street of well-paved roads, leading straight into the heart of the corporate center. It was the corporate district that was the true jewel of the city. Taking up an area that covered the entire island of Catalina, it was the home of the twin towers of Cronus and Rhea.


    Just as their names were taken from the Titans, so did they resemble them in size.


    Each tower rose two hundred stories into the air, and around them, spaced in a circular formation, was the ring of towers know as the lesser Titans. They were each named after the children of Cronus and Rhea, and rose to slightly less than half the height of their parents.


    Eric Corbin stood at the foot of Poseidon.


    Above him, the building was illuminated with a bluish laser light, casting an image of rolling waves on its surface. It was a nice touch having each tower decorated with a hologram portraying its namesake. They spared no expense for appearance in the corporate district. After all, it was what most people thought of when the name Cronus City was mentioned and public officials certainly wanted to keep it that way.


    Eric strolled idly along the sidewalk for a bit, trying to relieve some of the anxiety that was starting to build in his system. Not far away from him, limousines and expensive sports cars were pulling up to the curb. Their occupants stepped out dressed in expensive fashion ware; clothes that had the name of some French or Italian designer attached to it.


    Their vehicles were quickly taken over by young valets and driven around the corner, while they themselves strolled elegantly through the tower doors and towards the festivities within.


    Eric smirked slightly. People with money certainly knew how to waste it.


    His thought was slightly hypocritical; he himself was no slouch in the financial department after all. In fact, the suit he was wearing probably cost twice as much as any he had seen tonight. Granted his did not look as flashy, but it served a greater purpose than merely keeping him up with fashion.


    Eric scanned the small digital display in his left eye. The time read 21:57. The meeting was scheduled at ten o¡¯clock and still Eric had no word from his associate yet.


    He at least wanted to run things over once or twice before they headed inside. Eric looked towards the doors of the tower once again.


    Two men were posted on either side, wearing black suits and cheap looking sunglasses, though in reality Eric knew that the glasses were nowhere near cheap. They were most likely equipped with four or five different image enhancement systems; much like those imbedded in his prosthetic left eye. The men were also fairly well built in size, a clear-cut sign of bio-augmentation. Eric made a note to be careful around them, though fortunately his body had size to match.


    Eric Corbin stood just over two meters in height with a dense, muscular build. He was in his late thirties, with shortly cut black hair and dark brown eyes, hidden beneath a pair of thick eyebrows. His face was well cut and angular and was often times stunning to most. It was a reaction, Eric had become quite accustomed to and in fact expected, considering he had paid for it to be that way.


    Scanning the area, Eric spotted a man crossing the street briskly some distance away from him. Using his optics, he zoomed in to view him more closely. He was in his late twenties, with a tall stature and medium built frame. He wore a suit similar to Eric¡¯s own; a slightly fashionable cut, but nowhere near as high classed as the other patrons¡¯. His face was slim and sharp and his skin a deep olive color. In contrast, his blond hair was bleached stark white and cut in a close military like fashion. His head dashed quickly from side to side as he crossed the street, looking for someone.


    With a sharp whistle, Eric made his locale know and the man abruptly changed direction to intercept. Eric waited until he had reached him and then finally spoke.


    ¡°Do you realize what time it is, Lance?¡±


    The fair headed man nodded. ¡°It¡¯s twenty-two hundred.¡±


    ¡°I thought you would have been here a bit earlier.¡± Eric straightened his tie.


    ¡°I was.¡± Taking cue, Lance fixed his tie as well. ¡°I took a few minutes to scout out the rear of the tower.¡±


    ¡°Hold on.¡± Eric removed a small earpiece from his jacket pocket. ¡°Let¡¯s get these things in and then we can talk a little quieter.¡±


    Lance nodded and pushed his own earpiece into his left ear.


    ¡°Testing,¡± Eric uttered sub-vocally in his throat.


    ¡°Hear you good,¡± Lance responded back.


    Let¡¯s get moving inside then. I think it¡¯s about to begin.


    Lance nodded affirmatively and Eric turned to proceed towards the tower entrance.


    What did you find out the back anyway? Eric slipped into a steady relaxed pace.


    Not much. Lance joined him at his side. Everything seems to be pretty secure. Did you check out these guards already?


    Not yet. Eric slowed for a moment as they passed by the men standing on either side


    of the door. He then turned to look directly at one of them. His left eye shifted displays  and the world suddenly became a colored palette of reds and blues. Eric saw that man¡¯s figure painted in various degrees of reds and oranges with an occasional blue spot here and there.


    Nothing on thermo. Eric switched his vision back to normal. Mostly meat if not all.


    Hopefully they won ¡¯t be a factor when shit starts happening.


    As they passed through the doors, the air became filled with the fast paced thump of a bass drum. A light tune began to play over the drumbeat and was then suddenly joined by the wispy vocals of a female singer. It was a popular song that was being played. A fast club beat that seemed to blend smoothly with the designer elegance and d¨¦cor of the event. Ahead of them, Eric could see the interior of the main hall. The lights were dimmed, and in the center stood an elevated catwalk, illuminated by soft runway lights along its edges. People sat in the darkness around the runway, gazing upwards at the elegant models who seemed to appear like magic from the black satin curtains at the back of the hall. The models were attractive, too attractive almost. They were lean and small chested with outrageous hairdos and even worse outfits. Eric really didn¡¯t understand why people got so excited over supermodels anymore. Anyone could be one, if they had enough money.


    ¡°Invitations gentlemen?¡± A tall man in a tuxedo stopped them before they were about to enter the hall.


    Eric reached into his pocket and withdrew a small piece of plastic and handed it to the man. The man twitched his thin mustache for a second then reached over to take a similar looking card from Lance. After a few seconds he smiled.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid there are not many seats left but please, enjoy the show.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Eric returned the smile.


    The fakes worked nicely, Lance commented as they entered into the darkness of the hall. Going to have to thank Mandy for getting them done on such late notice.


    The music grew louder and a small holographic laser show added itself to the entertainment walking up and down the runway. Over the music, a woman with a British accent was announcing the clothing that was being displayed.


    All right, Eric stopped just within the hall. Let''s get to work.


    Eric switched the optics in his left eye for low light conditions. Instantly, the room became as bright as day, with the soft light of the runway becoming as bright as the sun.


    Argh, Eric muttered.


    What?


    ¡°Too much light in here for Low Light,¡± he turned off the optic. ¡°Going to have to use UV.¡±


    Eric made another switch and the room became painted in a green film. It made colors impossible to define, but the room was bright enough to make out details and faces clearly.


    Can you see? Eric looked over to Lance.


    Lance stared back at him with pupils dilated to the size of dimes.


    ¡°Christ, man,¡± Eric cringed away slightly. ¡°You look like a fucking vampire.¡±


    Lance grinned. ¡°Yeah I can see. The lights are a bit of a problem but my eyes can keep up with the changes in light intensity okay.¡±


    ¡°All right let¡¯s start looking for the target and we ¡¯d better hurry.¡± Eric glanced at his watch. ¡°We don ¡¯t know exactly when this is going to happen, we just have to be ready.¡±


    Lance nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll take the left side of the room.¡±


    Eric nodded back and watched as Lance turned and started making his way through the crowd. Eric stopped to get his bearings for a second and then proceeded into the crowd himself. He was not one to keep up with glamour, but by the look of the turnout, this seemed to be a fairly important event. Within the mass of people he could recognize a few movie stars and music artists. Their seats were of course, as close to the runway as possible. The target was most likely there as well.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    He pushed past a few people politely. They responded with a warm smile, accepting his apology with grace. It always amazed Eric the difference in the types of people who flocked to different environments. Had this been a crowd somewhere else, an incident like that could have well ended in a fight.


    ¡°Any luck Lance?¡± Eric called through the earpiece.


    ¡°I don ¡¯t see him.¡±


    Eric moved a bit closer to the runway. He spied a portly middle aged man with a full beard and a high receding hairline. Next to him was a woman of about the same age, with whom he was whispering to quite often.


    ¡°I¡¯ve located the target,¡± Eric informed his partner. ¡°The senator has his wife with him so we have to treat her as a secondary target.¡±


    Understood, he heard Lance reply. Where exactly are they?


    Halfway down on the right side. Eric measured out the dimensions of the hall. I''m going to take position three meters behind them. You take position opposite them on the other side of the runway.


    ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡± Lance replied.


    Eric moved a bit further into the crowd. It was no easy task with all the chairs and the people sitting in them. He could feel their dirty looks as he more or less stumbled past them. He hadn''t anticipated it being so cramped. It could pose a significant problem.


    I¡®m ready, reported Lance, I can see the Senator.


    Eric looked over the runway and saw Lance¡¯s eyes glowing catlike in the distance.


    Slowly he made his way just behind the Senator. It was a bit awkward to say the least. All around him people were sitting and looking at him sternly for obstructing their view. Eric apologized some more, and shuffled until he managed to find a small wedge of space that wasn¡¯t in anyone¡¯s way.


    ¡°He would have to sit so close wouldn¡¯t ¡¯t he?¡±


    Eric chuckled. ¡°No one said this job was going to be easy.¡±


    ¡°See anything yet?¡± asked Lance.


    ¡°Haven ¡¯t been looking to tell you the truth, been busy looking for the senator.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t ¡¯t matter too much,¡± Lance subvocalized. The only way we ¡¯ll know for sure is when they attack anyway.


    ¡°At least we know its one of the models.¡± Eric began watching the women walking up and down the catwalk. ¡°Probably going to be an A type. Either that or a B type with some real light bodywork.¡±


    ¡°I might even be able to smell em, Lance mentioned. If they are renegades they will probably be pumped up on cheap amino derms.¡±


    Eric switched to thermograph for a moment and watched the models on stage. Most of them, if not all, were human. This could turn out to be a long wait. There was also the possibility that the attackers changed their game plan. Perhaps they were going to try directly after the show, in the confusion of people leaving. That wouldn¡¯t be their style though. Eric had handled the information gathering himself. They were up against terrorists tonight. Terrorist wanted to be seen and recognized. He just hoped they weren¡¯t going to try to take out the whole crowd. But as far as he knew all they wanted was the senator.


    Remember we need the perpetrators alive, Lance, Eric reminded him. Or intact at least. I¡¯ll do my best defending the Senator but the objective is the capture of the suspect.


    Understood, Lance replied.


    There was a pause as Eric returned his attention to the runway. The holograms along the edge of the stage were quite a sight, especially when being seen through UV.


    ¡°I may have something,¡± Lance¡¯s voice came through the earpiece.


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°The short-haired brunette,¡± Lance described her. ¡°Wearing the overcoat.¡±


    Eric looked upon the runway for the woman Lance spoke of. He spotted her and immediately switched his optics to thermograph. Her figure appeared before him in a paint scheme of red and blue. Her skeletal structure seemed artificial, as did her fingertips. Eric noticed something blue swaying out of sync with her body. Eric made out the long barrel of a gun with a curved banana clip.


    ¡°It¡¯s her!¡± he spoke aloud. ¡°I¡¯m going for the Senator.¡±


    Eric made a bolt towards the runway. He tripped trying to climb over someone¡¯s seat and fell forward into the backs of the people in the next row. There was a loud commotion around him. People were cursing and pushing. Eric refused to pay attention to it, his eyes where fixed on the raven-haired cyberoid walking calmly down the runway towards him. He pushed again against the crowd, causing even more people to look over their shoulders at him.


    Fuck! he grunted to himself. Above him, he saw the cyberoid tum about at the end of the runway and begin to make her way back down. He saw her eyes lock onto the position of the Senator. She was getting ready to make her move.


    ¡°Shit Lance!¡± Eric cursed. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna make it to him in time.¡±


    Lance¡¯s voice boomed into his ear, obviously shouting as he was. ¡°There are too many damn people in here!¡±


    Eric saw her hand move slightly inward towards her coat. His mind raced, he had to do something. Throwing open his jacket, he snapped his handgun from the shoulder holster. Then, flicking his thumb, he released the safety and aimed it at the cyberoid.


    ¡°Halt! C-D-I!¡±


    Eric wasn¡¯t sure how loud he had screamed, but for that instance, it seemed as if his words were the only thing that could be heard. The cyberoid stopped. People around him dashed and scattered in a panicked frenzy. Screams were heard.


    Get to her Lance! he spoke gutturally.


    Eric held firm. He wasn¡¯t sure how much time had passed, but he knew the cyberoid was going to react soon. In the distance, he saw Lance brutally climbing over people, trying to reach the cyberoid. Eric heard security personnel screaming directions and orders. The whole thing was about to hit the fan in a few seconds.


    He had to do something. Quickly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to take her out!¡± Eric aimed his pistol. ¡°She¡¯s going to spray the crowd.¡±


    Wait! shouted Lance. I ¡¯m almost there.


    Eric saw her hand flash into her coat. He saw a glint of metal.


    ¡°Too late!¡±


    Eric pulled the trigger and suddenly the entire world went bright green. A scream erupted from his lungs as the color blinded him. Eric felt the jerky triple recoil of his pistol as it fired a three round burst in the direction it was pointing. A sporadic discharge of automatic gunfire suddenly filled the air. He dove to the ground, his body slamming into a mass of hard chairs.


    Eric finally caught hold of himself and closed his left eye. The greenness that was overloading his optical nerves was gone. The room was now fully lit. Eric flicked his optics to normal and reopened his eye.


    A few feet away from him, the Senator and his wife lay dead in their seats; their bodies riddled with blood leaking, bullet wounds. Several other people were crawling in the same area, their voices filled with pain as they cried for help.


    ¡°Someone turned on the damn lights¡± Lance cursed. ¡°I couldn¡¯t ¡¯t see what happened.


    Eric scanned for the cyberoid and saw she was gone. Dammit!


    He looked over and saw Lance, resting one hand against the runway, while rubbing his eyes with the other. Eric clambered forward and lifted himself up onto the runway. Briefly he looked down at the Senator. He could still be alive, but he wasn¡¯t the priority at the moment.


    ¡°Come on, Lance!¡± Eric shouted. He didn¡¯t wait for a response. Instead he made directly for the black curtains at the end of the catwalk. She couldn¡¯t have gotten very far in that short of a time. He burst through the black velvet curtain and onto the backstage area. Half-nude models were running about frantically as security personnel stood dumbfounded at the events that had just taken place. One of them spotted him.


    The guard went for his weapon.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Eric reacted quickly, showing the back of his fist to the guard. With a faint mental trigger a glowing tattoo illuminated oh his skin. ¡°I¡¯m CDI,¡± Eric stated. ¡°I need to know where that woman went.¡±


    The guard looked back at him blankly.


    ¡°Major!¡± Eric heard a call from behind him.


    ¡°Hurry up, Lance.¡±


    ¡°I have her scent,¡± Lance pushed past him.


    Eric quickly followed suit, moving by the guard, and deeper into the back ofthe hall. Lance pushed through people like an animal, his eyes shifting wildly. They reached the emergency exit at the rear of the building. Lance pushed on the lever, but it depressed with no effect.


    ¡°Damn!¡± Lance drove his shoulder into the door with a loud thump but it refused to move.


    ¡°Watch out,¡± Eric stepped forward. Grunting slightly he readied himself, and then charged forward with a massive kick. The force slammed through the door like a truck, tearing it off its hinges. Lance wasted no time running through the new exit and stooping just outside to pick up a new trace.


    Eric stood behind him, scanning the immediate area. The backdoor of Poseidon tower lead to a small patch of grass, and beyond it was the open street. There was light traffic rolling past, and in the distance, Eric could hear the whine of an ambulance coming towards them.


    ¡°Anything?¡± Eric looked down to his colleague.


    Lance paused for a moment. ¡°This way I think.¡±


    He then rose to his feet and began running westward along the road.


    Eric followed after him. His muscular legs pounded piston-like against the hard tarmac, catching up to Lance easily. He enhanced his vision and began scanning ahead of them. On the opposite side of the street, he saw a figure running.


    ¡°There!¡± Eric pointed with his pistol and changed direction to pursue her. He ran directly across the street, oblivious to the slow moving traffic. A car slammed brakes behind him, causing a loud screech to fill the air. The cyberoid turned at the sound of the noise and caught sight of him. Immediately, she began to run faster.


    Eric reached the sidewalk and began to pick up speed. He was faster than she was, and the gap was starting to close slowly between them. Eric felt the burning in his legs but he forced the pain out of his head.


    ¡°CDI!¡± Eric screamed after her. ¡°Halt or I¡¯ll fire!¡±


    She didn¡¯t listen.


    The order was half hearted anyway. Eric didn¡¯t want to shoot her if he could avoid it. There was too much risk she could be killed. If she died, months¡¯ worth of investigative work would die with her. Eric needed to know who sent her and what organization she truly represented.


    He pushed harder, his breath becoming short grunts of determination.


    Suddenly she spun around before him, her weapon trailing in her hand. Eric saw the muzzle flash.


    Something hit him in his chest, his arm, and his leg. He stumbled to the hard pavement, his limbs flailing wildly. He rolled once and ended up on his stomach. He peered upwards to see her running again, her gun still blazing with automatic fire. Clarity entered his mind as he took aim. The whole word seemed to slow around him, giving him ample time to line up the shot. He squeezed off a tri-burst at her dashing legs.


    Two of the three large caliber bullets hit their mark. Their hardened jackets ripped through the lightly armored texture of her skin and penetrated through to the other side.


    She fell forward with a short wail of pain, as her lower leg exploded in a flood of thick, red blood.


    Eric had made the shot.


    ¡°Major, you okay?¡± Lance ran up next to him.


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Eric answered blankly. He looked down upon himself. There was no blood and not much pain.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t get through,¡± Lance said observing him. ¡°Lucky she was using small caliber rounds.¡±


    Eric nodded and began to stand to his feet. ¡°Go check on her. Make sure she¡¯s okay.¡±


    Lance retrieved a small black zipper case from his pocket and ran over to the fallen cyberoid. Stooping over her, he could see the extensive damage the 12mm slugs had made. She was still conscious, although only barely. Lance unzipped his case and retrieved a small air hypo-needle and a vial of morphine.


    ¡°How is she?¡± the Major leaned over his shoulder.


    ¡°She¡¯ll live,¡± Lance began to tie a tourniquet about her leg. ¡°Just going to relieve the pain so she d0esn¡¯t go into shock. Probably better call for our lift right away though.¡±


    The Major nodded and reached into his pocket for his comm-link.


    Lance loaded the hypo, and moved the cyberoid slightly to administer the dose right above the knee. Something then fell out of her hand. Picking it up, Lance examined it; a small tube with a needle attached to the end. He sniffed it lightly.


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Eric rushed over at the sudden alarm.


    ¡°She injected herself with some kind of toxin!¡± Lance then dove back into his medical case. ¡°I don¡¯t know how strong it is. I¡¯m going to give her some adrenaline and atrophine. It¡¯s not a guarantee but it might be enough to keep her alive until she can get some real treatment.¡±


    Lance produced a ten-centimeter long syringe from the case and began loading it with the drugs. He shook it slightly, then removed any air by squirting a stream of the fluid directly upwards. Lance gripped the cyberoid forcefully with his free arm, and laid her flat on the back. In one quick stroke, he ripped the elegant silk shirt from about her torso, exposing her bare chest.


    Eric stood back dauntingly as he watched Lance feel over the cyberoid¡¯s torso for a moment. Then, without warning, he raised the syringe and plunged it deep into her breast.


    The needle punctured the breastbone with a soft thud and traveled straight through to the cyberoid¡¯s heart. Satisfied with his insertion, Lance pressed downward on the plunger and emptied the needle¡¯s contents directly into her blood stream.


    He waited for any signs of effect, but her glassy eyes remained fixed in space. He checked her pulse. It was faint and slowing. Then finally it stopped.


    ¡°Dammit!¡± Lance pounded above her heart desperately trying to restart it. ¡°Come on!¡±


    Eric watched as Lance hit her chest again and again, but could tell it wasn¡¯t having much effect.


    ¡°Give it up, Lieutenant,¡± he shook Lance¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Looks like she¡¯s won this time.¡±


    His subordinate sighed heavily and knelt on the cold concrete for a moment, then slowly he rose to his feet and stood next to him. Lance shook his head in disgust. ¡°How did we manage to blow an easy one like this, eh Shade?¡±


    Eric always knew an op was finally over, when Lance called him by his nickname. It was the name Eric preferred, but his lieutenant wouldn¡¯t dare refer to him by it during a mission.


    ¡°Too many wins.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°Too many wins,¡± Shade repeated. ¡°We got complacent. We knew this was going to be small time opposition but we underestimated the situation. We- I should have put more men on the op, covered the back door.¡±


    Lance nodded. ¡°I guess after a while, you forget just how unpredictable one cyberoid can be.¡±


    ¡°The target killed and the suspect dead.¡± Shade sighed deeply. ¡°Complete fuck up.¡±


    ¡°Some data may be salvageable from her cyber-brain,¡± Lance shrugged.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Eric said slowly. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°At any rate,¡± Lance retrieved his medical supplies from off the sidewalk. ¡°It¡¯s over now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Shade agreed, ¡°it¡¯s over.¡±


    A few minutes of silence passed before a corporate police car pulled up beside them.


    Lance flashed his identification to the officers and told them to move on. They obeyed him, albeit somewhat resentfully. Eric then watched as normal police began to gather around the tower as well, along with an army of news teams. He was glad they were some distance away. With luck, they would be gone before anyone spotted them.


    Eric hear the high pitched whistle of a jet engine approaching. He image enhanced towards the area and saw the flashing lights of an aerodyne.


    An aerodyne was somewhat of an odd vehicle. It didn¡¯t seem like much of an aircraft at all, although it did have some aerodynamic qualities. It was shaped mostly like a yacht, with its large angled front windscreen and its curved, tapered hull. At first glance it looked impossible of flight. It had no wings to speak of, save for a spoiler, which looped over the rear of the craft. The jet engine, located to the rear, merely provided trust for propulsion; actual lift, was achieved by the super-conducting magnets, hidden away under the skin of the vehicle¡¯s belly.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready to go,¡± Eric radioed to the pilot.


    There was a brief pause before the pilot responded. ¡°Hear you loud and clear, Major.¡±


    A spotlight illuminated from the bow of the aerodyne, as the craft slowed its approach and began to close in at a mere fifty meters away. Eric waved his ann in the air for confirmation.


    ¡°Are you all wrapped up dovsm there, Sir?¡± the pilot called back.


    Eric paused. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re all done.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± The pilot then paused before speaking again. ¡°Oh I heard something on  the radio you might be interested in, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Eric cupped his hand over the earpiece and listened more carefully. ¡°What¡¯s


    that?¡±


    * * *


    ¡°USSD is having a little trouble.¡±


    Captain Redo Lukes eased back on the throttle as he passed over the Major below.


    With a mental trigger, he switched his helmet feed to the landing camera mounted in the belly of the craft. A view of the Major and Lance from above appeared in a small box within his helmet¡¯s visor. He lowered the Aerodyne slowly and carefully, correcting for the thrust of the rear engines and the slight wind pushing on the ship¡¯s surface.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± the Major asked him.


    Lukes popped the landing gear and eased downward, using the camera and his altimeter as a guide. ¡°They were in pursuit of one of their own aircraft.¡± Redo felt the soft jolt as the landing gear connected with the ground. With a touch of controls he opened the rear entry hatch. A whirring sound was heard over the whine of the engines, as the hatch began to lower itself to the ground. No sooner had the door opened fully, that Redo felt the motion of someone jumping inside.


    He looked over his shoulder and saw it was Lieutenant Lance, pulling an empty body bag from the side storage compartment. The Lieutenant looked at him, but said nothing.


    He gathered up the bag then turned and crawled out the hatch again, just as the Major was stepping inside.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go, Sir?¡± Redo flicked a few switches on his control panel.


    ¡°Shitty,¡± Eric replied. ¡°Tell me more about this USSD thing.¡±


    Shade ducked as he moved to a seat right at the back of Redo¡¯s chair. He promptly sat down into it and then leaned his back against the hull. The annoying pain of a buckle in his back reminded him to strap himself in. He did so quickly, and then began lightly feeling the bruises the bullet impacts had left.


    ¡°Happened about thirty-five minutes ago,¡± Redo informed him. ¡°An F-38 apparently left Renel Naval base without authorization. Two more were sent up after it.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    There was a loud thump at Shade¡¯s feet, as a long black bag landed heavily to the floor of the aerodyne. Eric frowned slightly and looked towards Lance, who was dusting off his hands and making his way through the hatch.


    ¡°Yeah no bullshit,¡± assured Lukes. ¡°I¡¯ve been listening in ever since. Seems the renegade actually took down one of the pursuit aircraft too.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Eric couldn¡¯t believe how calmly Lukes was relaying the information. ¡°A renegade USSD aircraft?¡±


    ¡°Seems like it.¡±


    ¡°Are you fucking serious?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Redo nodded. ¡°You in Lance?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in.¡± Lance sat opposite Shade and began strapping himself in.


    Lukes then keyed for the hatch to close and began throttling up the engines. ¡°Back to


    HQ, I assume?¡±


    ¡°HQ?¡± Eric flashed his head towards the pilot. ¡°With this shit going on? You gotta be


    mad. Where the fuck is that plane now?¡±


    Redo always found it amusing, how passionate the Major got about certain issues.


    ¡°Last I heard, it went down."


    ¡°Went down?¡± Lance said. ¡°Did they shoot it down?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡± Redo ran a final check on all systems. ¡°Didn¡¯t hear anything about them actually hitting it, but I assume so.¡±


    ¡°Where did it go down?¡± the Major asked.


    ¡°About forty kilometers North-West of the base.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d put it right on the rim of the Reclamation Area,¡± said Lance. ¡°You have a general idea of where it might have gone down, Redo?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Lukes applied the throttle and lifted the aerodyne from the street below.


    ¡°Why? Do you want to check it out?¡±


    ¡°Yes I want to check it out!¡± Shade rifled, baffled by the pilot¡¯s nonchalant attitude.


    ¡°What would be our ETA?¡±


    ¡°Fifteen minutes,¡± Redo shrugged.


    ¡°How long ago did it go down?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say ten.¡±


    Eric rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger. ¡°They¡¯ll have a response team underway by now. Redo can you cut that ETA down any?¡±


    The pilot looked backed over his shoulder. ¡°Maybe to twelve if I push it.¡±


    ¡°Do it,¡± Shade commanded. ¡°We just might beat em.¡±


    ¡°All right hold on.¡± Lukes pitched the nose oh the Aerodyne sharply and applied full thrust. The turbine engines wailed with power, and the craft launched forward, cutting the night air with its sharp bow and leaving a thunderous roar behind it.


    ¡°Got a hunch eh, Sir?¡± Lance smiled knowingly at him.


    ¡°Yeah kind of.¡± Eric scratched the light stubble on his face. ¡°I¡¯d go check out a call like this regardless. US military aircraft don¡¯t fire upon each other, unless something or someone fucked up big time. The fact that its USSD makes it all the more suspicious.¡±


    Lance folded his arms and chuckled. ¡°Think USSD is up to its old tricks?¡±


    ¡°Possibly,¡± Shade said. ¡°Hell, it probably is, knowing them.¡±


    Lance nodded. ¡°This wouldn¡¯t be the first time we¡¯ve uncovered some dirt on them.¡±


    ¡°This is what happens when you replace an organization like NASA with a branch of the military,¡± Eric shook his head. ¡°You still got to hire the same people to make the shit work, but now you¡¯ve got to give them military ranking and power as well. Combine that with a virtually unlimited budget, some clueless Brass above them and you got a ton of smart ass people making whatever they want, and selling it to whoever they want, without much chance of being caught whatsoever. Remember that Lieutenant Morgan who was selling space armor designs to the communists Chinese?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I remember him,¡± Lance said. ¡°Tumed out to be a working for Genesis on the side too wasn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Yup, he was a former Genesis engineer.¡±


    ¡°Like most of ¡®em,¡± Lance smirked.


    ¡°I¡¯d say sixty percent of USSD personnel are ex-Genesis employees. They go through


    people faster than toilet paper over there.¡±


    ¡°Not a bad estimate.¡± Lance began packing away his medical case. ¡°So you think someone is working on their homework assignments using government money and then handing it back to their teachers at Genesis under the table?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the get rich quick scheme most of em seem to use. Either that or sell em directly to the enemy like Morgan did.¡±


    ¡°High treason either way you look at it,¡± Lance said. ¡°You think someone was trying to get away with a top secret plane?¡±


    ¡°Could be.¡± Eric then thought it over for a moment. ¡°Although Redo did say they identified it as an F-38 over the radio. Hey Redo!¡±


    Eric shouted above the noise of the engines.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± the pilot called back.


    ¡°Was that transmission you were listening to on a secure frequency?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± answered Lukes. ¡°I heard a piece of it through some garble. Then I called Lita back at HQ, and asked her to de-scramble it and patch it back to me. Worked like a chann. That chick is amazing I tell you. Worth every penny we spent on her.¡±


    ¡°Eight-hundred and fifty grand?¡± Lance scoffed. ¡°I would fucking hope so for that price.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Shade intentionally ignored his subordinate¡¯s descent, ¡°there wouldn¡¯t be any reason for them to mask a scrambled transmission. So we have to assume that it really is an F-38.¡±


    ¡°Could have something in its payload," Lance suggested. ¡°Maybe even nuclear.¡±


    ¡°Could be.¡± Eric nodded slowly. ¡°Though the market for nukes isn¡¯t that great anymore. I guess even terrorist are starting to realize that wiping out half the planet really doesn¡¯t make a lot of sense. Possibility though.¡±


    ¡°Lukes,¡± Lance shouted. ¡°Has there been a request for a Nuclear Emergency Safety Team?¡±


    ¡°Not that I¡¯ve heard,¡± Redo called back. ¡°ETA four minutes by the way.¡±


    ¡°Good work,¡± said Shade. ¡°Anything on visual yet?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when I do. Should be relatively easy to spot at night.¡±


    ¡°I just thought about something,¡± Lance rubbed his chin.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re travelling pretty light to be headed into the reclamation area.¡±


    Eric looked over to Lance and what he was wearing, and then down at his own semi armored dress wear, which had already taken a bit of punishment. On top of that, there was only Redo, Lance and himself. The reclamation area was precariously know for its extremely violent, and often times well armed occupants. The sight of a flaming aircraft crashing into the ground, would no doubt bring them out of the wood works.


    ¡°Redo, please tell me you¡¯re hauling some armor back here.¡± Eric began looking about the interior of the Aerodyne.


    ¡°Should be about four suits of HS-l2 in the storage compartment under the deck,¡±


    Redo jerked his thumb. ¡°What? They aren¡¯t there?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Eric scratched the back of his head, ¡°just haven¡¯t looked yet.¡±


    Lance un-strapped himself and began fiddling with the floor panel, popping it open easily. He pushed aside the body bag and began pulling the pieces of armor up from below. Within a few moments he had two suits of the hardened plastic armor, along with two assault rifles spread over the floor of the Aerodyne.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to suit up.¡± Shade stood and began to undo his tie. ¡°When you find the site, start circling okay?¡±


    Redo couldn¡¯t help but smile with the building of excitement.


    ¡°You got it, Major.¡±


    ***********************

 Chapter 6

    Lieutenant Lisa Petty stared silently at the small area of space between her boots. She heard the voices of her squad around her. They were all very excited. gabbing about what they thought had happened at the base. Others were wondering just what was going on altogether. Lisa herself wished she knew. Part of her wanted to share in the conversation, but she needed to concentrate, needed to focus. Most of all though, she needed to seem like a leader.


    They hadn¡¯t been airborne for long, but the noise of the helicopter engine and the sound of its blades were starting to make her feel nauseous. Lisa knew she was a bit prone to air sickness, but she trained enough so that she could handle a nine hour flight if need be. Deep down, she knew that the sickness was due more to her nerves than anything else.


    In all her career, Lieutenant Lisa Petty had never been on an actual mission. She had never truly commanded when things really mattered. The fact that this was not a training exercise scared the hell out of her. People always told her that she would fall back on her training, when the time came, but so far, her mind seemed as blank as the gap between her feet. She couldn¡¯t even think of anything to say to her squad.


    Someone nudged her slightly.


    Lisa looked up. It was the professor guy again. His face served to only impound the fact that this was not a training exercise. She wished he had not begged to come along. Lisa had enough things to worry about without some civilian wandering around.¡°What is it?¡± she asked him.¡°Lieutenant,¡± his voice sounded shaky. ¡°What exactly are your orders concerning this recovery?¡±Lisa looked straight-ahead, avoiding eye contact with him. ¡°We¡¯re to secure the area and search for signs of the pilot.¡±


    ¡°Did they say anything about what to do if you find them?¡±Lisa glanced at him slightly wondering what he was getting at. ¡°If we find the pilot alive, then our orders are to capture if possible, and kill if necessary.¡±


    ¡°What do you think would be deemed necessary?¡± the doctor leaned closer.


    ¡°Look, I just don¡¯t know right now, okay?¡±Lisa sighed purposefully with annoyance, trying to convey that she didn¡¯t want to talk to him any longer. The Doctor apparently got the message and finally turned away from her.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said.


    Webber¡¯s nerves were standing on end. He hadn¡¯t even thought about his own safety when he climbed aboard the chopper. The only thing that ran through his mind was that he had to be there. Someone had to be there to step them from killing Barro. He had to be there.


    Webber looked at the soldiers around him. Each was dressed in armored camouflage fatigues, and had a rifle leaning against the side of the chopper next to them. They were kids most of them, even the Lieutenant. He could feel the tension within them. They would kill Barro for sure if they found her.


    Webber wouldn¡¯t allow her to die like that, not without him first understanding how she managed to succeed with what she did. But more importantly, Webber wanted to know why. For a Split second, he wondered if it was wrong for him to try to save her for those reasons only. He wondered if her life actually meant anything to him at all. Webber the thought out of his head. He wasn¡¯t ready to deal with something like that rightIf you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Target ETA eight minutes!" the young Lieutenant shouted next to him. ¡°Let¡¯s be ready okay, people.¡±


    Lisa wondered if she should have stood when she spoke. At any rate, it was too late She looked again at her squad, so eager for their first taste of real action. She envied their confidence, their enthusiasm. Lisa wondered if she really deserved the two bars on her collar. She then looked to the professor. Even he seemed in better shape than she was. Finally, she returned her gaze to the floor, to the small patch of metal between her boots. And she waited for it all to begin.


    *********


    Captain Lukes kept a tight circle about the burning mass of wreckage some forty meters below him. It wasn¡¯t necessary to circle of course, the aerodyne was completely capable of hovering, but any hostiles on the ground would have a harder time hitting a moving target than a stationary one. He had an array of optics activated in his helmet visor. Low light, UV and even thermograph, although the heat from the wreckage made almost impossible to see anything while using that particular optic.


    ¡°Any luck, Redo?¡± the Major asked him, fixing an armored gauntlet over his right hand.


    ¡°A bit hard to tell.¡± Redo squinted at the images before him. ¡°The terrain is pretty uneven down there. Lots of little hiding places. As for the wreckage, it at least seems tohave stayed together during the impact.¡±


    Eric looked over to Lance, who was now dressed in the same HS-l2 armor as he was. The HS-l2¡¯s were designed to enclose the entire body, like a medieval suit of armor. armor itself was a hard polymer plastic, layered between fihns of kevlar. Underneath the hard plastic were myomer attachments. The myomer served to mold the suit to the wearer¡¯s body and also assist in movement. HS-12 suits were quoted to increase a user¡¯s speed and strength by about fifteen percent. The design was fairly comfortable, with close fitting boots and gauntlets. The shoulder pads were also made a bit oversized to provide added neck and head protection. Just above the biceps, however, a non-standard feature was mounted, a crest depicting an eagle holding a scroll and sword within its talons. And written below it, the acronym C-D-I.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Redo said. ¡°I got a couple of people down there.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡± Shade moved towards the cockpit.


    ¡°Look at the briefing screen,¡± Redo pressed a few controls. ¡°I¡¯ll punch it up there.¡±


    Eric stepped back a bit, and looked up towards the large wall-mounted screen in the rear of the cabin. It flickered on and Eric saw a view of the ground below, laced in thermograph. Two or three bodies were crouched down in the darkness.


    ¡°This is about twenty-five meters away from the wreckage,¡± Lukes informed. ¡°Only people I¡¯ve picked up so far.¡±


    ¡°Looks like one of them is already dead,¡± Lance jerked his head towards the screen.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Lance pointed, and circled what looked vaguely like the figure of a person. ¡°It is


    almost at ambient temperature. Must be a body.¡±


    ¡°The pilot maybe?¡±


    ¡°They could have ejected and tried to get back to the wreckage,¡± speculated Lance.


    ¡°Ran into someone on the ground and got killed.¡±


    ¡°Sounds iffy.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± he agreed.


    ¡°All right lets roll,¡± Shade gripped his rifle from off the floor. ¡°We won¡¯t find any


    answers by staying up here. Redo, can you put us down near those people?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Doesn¡¯t look like much space to land over there.¡±


    ¡°Just drop us then. Ten meters.¡±


    ¡°Ten meters?¡± the pilot questioned him doubtfully. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Eric then turned to Lance. ¡°You can handle that right?¡±


    Lance shrugged. ¡°In this suit yeah.¡±


    ¡°Alright let¡¯s go.¡±


    Lance Stood up next to him. ¡°Right with you Major.¡±


    Redo Lukes pulled out of his rhythmic circling and headed towards the direction of the heat signatures. He looked over the area again with low light, but couldn¡¯t quite make out where they exactly were. He began to lower the craft, keeping a close eye on his altimeter. He maneuvered a bit more, trying to find a spot that would provide a relatively soft landing for his passengers.


    ¡°Okay I¡¯m opening the hatch,¡± he called behind him.


    ***

 Chapter 7

    Eric stuffed his head into the close fitting, full-face helmet of his armor. From the outside, the visor was indistinguishable from the rest of the plastic. It looked as if there was no way for the wearer to see at all. Eric pulled the helmet down until it fastened tightly with the collar of his suit. There was a faint snap as power was supplied, and the visor came to life. Micro fiber optic apertures opened all over the face of the helmet and fed their visual information to the crystal display within. The display warmed up and Eric suddenly had a full view of the outside world around him.


    He saw the hatch begin to lower itself in front of him. Immediately, wind and backwash from the engines began to flood into the cabin, howling with the sound of rushing air. He stepped closer to the edge and measured their height from the ground.


    They were still a bit too high. He locked a magazine into his rifle and waited a bit longer.


    ¡°That¡¯s about it, Major,¡± Redo¡¯s voice came through the speakers in his helmet.


    He looked over to Lance, who was already at the edge of the hatch with his rifle trained downward. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Taking a step forward, Shade leapt out into the night. A blast of hot air hit him from the engines as he fell towards earth. He felt himself accelerating and faintly he could see the ground rising rapidly upwards. His feet hit first, sending a jolting shock through his entire body. As he rolled to break the fall, his body slammed into some unknown debris and broke it into pieces. Eric quickly regained his footing, and then crouched low to the ground. He activated the optics in his helmet. They were better than those mounted in his eye; the apertures had a control system, to adjust for changes in light source intensity.


    ¡°Lance you okay?¡± he spoke into the helmet mike.


    There was a slight grunt and finally, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Did you make it, Major?¡± Redo asked from above.


    ¡°We¡¯re fine,¡± Shade lowered himself for cover. ¡°Gain a bit of altitude and keep an eye out overhead for us.¡±


    ¡°Will do.¡± Eric stared out into the night, which was now transformed into a scene as bright as midday. They were in what seemed to be the remnants of a housing district. The buildings were leveled almost totally to the ground and around them huge mounds of debris were packed up, in what used to be the street. Eric looked ahead of him and tried to get a lock on the people they saw from the Aerodyne.


    ¡°I got them,¡± Lance said. ¡°About ten meters away.¡±


    Lance crawled through the rubble and crouched down next to him, then pointed out the targets with his armor-clad forefinger. Eric followed it, and saw some motion in the direction.


    Barro Suta still heard the whistling of the Aerodyne above her. She wanted to look, but training warned her against it. Whoever was up there was most likely scanning the ground for survivors. Her eyes would light up like headlamps if they focused on her.


    Barro looked down to Mother, who was seated in front of her, her back leaning against an I-beam jutting out of the mound of rubble surrounding them.


    ¡°Is the plane still intact?¡± Mother asked her.


    ¡°No,¡± Barro looked towards the burning aircraft. ¡°We took too much damage to the engine from the cannon fire. I was lucky to be able to land it in the condition it was in. It caught fire a few minutes ago.¡±


    ¡°We need to leave now then.¡± Mother began struggling to get up. ¡°Alex help me.¡±


    The man standing behind Barro hesitated slightly, seeming a bit in shock over the sight of the talking android. He followed her command nonetheless, moving quickly towards her and trying to stand her to her feet.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Barro told him. ¡°They are up there looking for us.¡±


    Alex abruptly stopped at her command, and began looking about confused.


    Barro could already tell that Alex was not particularly smart. He was not designed to be after all. He was a construction worker, with a body that could probably lift ten times that of a human his size. His kind made up the majority of the cyberoid population. They were cheap and highly efficient laborers that could be produced by the hundreds and each of them for a fraction of the cost of a human worker¡¯s salary. They were the true slaves of the future. Barro felt almost guilty for considering herself among the oppressed. She could only imagine the hardships Alex had to endure throughout his life.


    ¡°We must hurry,¡± Mother prompted. ¡°It is not far from here. Is that correct, Alex?¡±


    Alex nodded. ¡°Yeah, not too far.¡±


    Barro looked around cautiously. Just minutes ago she had landed the plane and was suddenly meet by Alex. She still wasn¡¯t sure how Mother had gotten word to him to meet them here. Though after witnessing the capabilities she possessed thus far, Barro assumed almost anything was possible. Still, they had greater problems at hand. Mother was incapable of moving on her own and Alex certainly didn¡¯t seem equipped to deal with the situation at hand.


    ¡°Are you sure we will be safe once we reach this tunnel?¡± Barro asked him.


    ¡°No one should know about it, and it is pretty well hidden,¡± Alex shrugged. ¡°My truck is parked on the other side.¡±


    ¡°We have to go now.¡± Mother struggled to rise to her feet. She stumbled a bit, but managed to keep her balance and stood up, leaning against the I-beam. ¡°Lead the way, Alex.¡±


    *****


    ¡°I got a chopper coming in guys,¡± Redo¡¯s voice crackled into Eric¡¯s helmet. ¡°USSD.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Ah, fuck,¡± Eric cursed. He saw the figures begin to move in the distance. ¡°Looks like they are getting ready to pull out. We gotta make a play, Lance.¡±


    ¡°What should I do about this chopper, Sir?¡± asked Redo. ¡°They¡¯ll be asking for identification in a second.¡±


    ¡°Just tell them you saw an aircraft go down and was rendering assistance.¡± Shade looked about the surroundings for cover. ¡°But don¡¯t tell them any more than you have to, go it?¡±


    ¡°Will do, Major,¡± Redo replied.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see who the hell these people are.¡± Eric scrambled forward, keeping his body low to the ground as he made his way towards the figures some ten meters away. Thes ound of loose gravel and debris crunched underneath him, as he dove behind a burnt out car to conceal himself from their sight. Eric felt a sudden thud as Lance slammed his back into the same car beside him, and crouched for cover as well.


    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Lance asked through the comm-link.


    ¡°Get close enough to see who they are. If the pilot is there alive, we take them in.¡±


    ¡°Do we have jurisdiction on this one?¡± Lance flicked the safety off his rifle.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to make an arrest.¡± Shade removed the safety on his weapon as well.


    ¡°Just detain them until we find out what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Eric peeked over the hood of the car. He could see there were three of them now. One of them was a fairly large man the other a woman. The last looked to be in an armored suit of some kind.


    Lance rose his head slightly above the car and looked as well.


    ¡°Geezus.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I think they¡¯re all cyberoids.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Eric changed his visor scope to thermograph. He could see the blue patchwork of cybernetics, clearly visible in the male and female. The person in the suit remained a constant, cold blue.


    ¡°Well I think we found your body.¡± Eric enhanced the image to get a closer look.


    ¡°Seems to be an insulated suit.¡±


    ¡°HS-16?¡±


    ¡°Possibly. It¡¯s got to be the pilot if they are wearing that kind of gear. Using it as a high altitude flight suit maybe.¡±


    ¡°Could also be the armor they were to break into the base and steal the plane,¡± suggested Lance.


    ¡°The pilot looks injured.¡± Eric- watched the female begin to carry the blue figure on her back. ¡°Let¡¯s move fast. I¡¯ll take the right flank you the left.¡±


    Lance nodded beside him.


    Eric exhaled sharply for a moment, then with a sudden burst of energy he sprang from his position and bolted forward. His feet fell heavy and loud onto the concrete rubble. Any advantage they had gained through stealth would be used up in terms of speed. He held the rifle firm in his hands, ready to fire if need be. Eric closed rapidly. They did not seem to hear his approach from behind. The woman was facing away from him, with the pilot clinging onto her back. The man seemed to be distracted and was looking out into the darkness.


    Shade charged forward.


    ¡°Halt! CD1!¡± he shouted in an amplified voice.


    The woman turned rapidly in front of him. Shade rose his rifle to his shoulder and took aim at her head, forcing her not to move. Lance came to an abrupt stop at his side and trained his rifle at the man. They had gotten the drop, but there. was no telling how they could react in the next few seconds. Speed was of the essence.


    ¡°No one move!¡± Eric told them sternly. They seemed to comply.


    Eric looked the cyberoids over quickly. The male appeared to be a standard B-class heavy work model. He would be dangerous if he got out of hand. The female was a B-class model as well. Eric examined further and saw she was wearing a flight suit. Was she actually the pilot? Eric then looked to the person hanging about her shoulders. It actually didn¡¯t look like much of a suit at all. It was far too small. And the helmet, it looked almost as if it were a faceplate.


    ¡°Drop the suit!¡± Eric told the woman.


    There was a slight pause of tension.


    ¡°Drop the suit!¡± he repeated. Adrenaline began to flow in his veins. She wasn¡¯t cooperating. He could tell she was thinking. Thinking of some way out of the situation.


    Shade tried to predict what she was going to do.


    He saw her head flash towards the male cyberoid, as if to get some form of consent or confirmation. Then abruptly the person in the suit rose their head. Sharp glass like eyes stared directly at Eric, under a crop of flowing, silvery hair. What he thought was a helmet was a disarmingly angelic face, carved of pure blue metal. Never had he seen anything so striking, so alarmingly unnatural, so frightening.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Lance stepped back involuntarily beside him.


    Then in a voice that seemed as unreal as its appearance, it opened it¡¯s mouth and screamed.


    ¡°Alex!¡±


    Eric jerked back startled.


    A second later, he felt an impact to his side as Lance careened into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Scrambling, he desperately reached for the rifle, which had flown from his grasp. He looked upward to see the female cyberoid running away. He cocked his head further and saw the male cyberoid pulling a huge piece of pipe from out of a building.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Eric cursed. ¡°Get the fuck off me Lance!¡±


    Pushing, Shade freed himself. He struggled to his feet and looked about him. Lance was still on the ground, rolling slightly. His rifle lying underneath him.


    Eric heard a loud snap of metal, as the cyberoid tore what looked to be two-meter length of pipe from the building near them.


    ¡°That bastard kicks hard,¡± Lance¡¯s voice croaked into his helmet. ¡°I think he broke some ribs. I¡¯m going to have to pass out. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Come on!¡± the cyberoid screamed and began a short run towards him.


    Eric froze for a moment. He had no clue where his rife was, and he would not be able to get at Lance¡¯s without getting a good taste of the pipe the cyberoid was wielding. Still he did have the advantage of armor. But by the looks of Lance, the cyberoid was obviously strong enough to cause major internal damage regardless.


    He had no choice; Shade had to take him out hand to hand.


    Flexing his forearms, three, half-meter long blades sprung from the knuckles of his gauntlets. Eric then dashed forward at the charging giant. He saw him lift the pipe high over his head for a massive blow. Eric left himself open for the attack, pausing long enough for his opponent to fully commit himself to the strike. Eric saw the cyberoid¡¯s arm drop and then with a surge of speed, Shade dodged to the side and slashed savagely downward at the pipe. Eric felt the strong resistance of the metal against his claws, but it yielded with a sharp metallic ring; cutting the pipe in half. Eric struck again this time at the giant¡¯s chest. The claws raked against his shirt and tore through it, digging deeply into the flesh and myomer beneath.


    The giant recoiled in pain and shock, his large hand moving to his bleeding chest.


    ¡°You fuck!¡±


    The cyberoid lunged forward, throwing what was left of his weapon. The pipe tumbled violently through the air and caught Eric on the shoulder. The shear force behind the blow knocked him off balance, and he fell to one side. The giant surged in to strike. Eric couldn¡¯t move in time.


    A knee slammed into Eric¡¯s armor clad chest, launching him a full meter into the air. Breath evacuated his lungs involuntarily, leaving him gasping as a fist pounded into the jaw of his helmet. Eric¡¯s head snapped upward with a force threatening to sever his neck. The world suddenly turned black, as the power connections were broken between the helmet and suit.


    Eric landed in a heap of confusion, darkness and pain.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to beat that fucking suit off you!¡± he heard the cyberoid bellowing over him.


    Eric¡¯s head was swimming. The last bit had nearly knocked him unconscious. He needed to get the helmet off, even if it meant exposing his head to-the am force of the Goliath¡¯s blows. If he could see, he would at least have a chance to avoid them. Eric pushed himself up off the ground. Suddenly he was wailed in the side by a tremendous kick, flipping him into the air and over onto his back. Eric coughed and tasted blood in his month. He was wheezing.


    Eric heard the faint call of voices. Then a short clap of a rifle firing rang out, followed up quickly by a streaming burst of multiple gunfire. The thunderous sound continued for a good half a minute. Eric could hear the bullets tearing up the surround area. He prayed that nothing would hit him in the state-he was in.


    Above it all he heard someone yelling.


    ***

 Chapter 8

    ¡°Cease Fire!¡± Petty shouted. ¡°Cease Fire!¡±


    A few meters away, her squad was still lined up emptying their magazines into the night. She just couldn¡¯t seem to control them. They were like animals. Lisa prayed she had made the right decision by ordering them to fire on the cyberoid. He definitely looked like a threat anyway.


    ¡°Cease Fire!¡± she shouted again, her voice straining over the gunfire. They seemed to hear her this time. The shooting slowed and finally stopped. Lisa paused for a moment, a little unsure what to do next. She saw some of her subordinates looking back towards her. She figured it was best she join them. She walked forward towards the flare light and saw what was left of the assailant strewn across a small pile of rocks. It was an awful sight. She felt like vomiting.


    ¡°All right,¡± she pointed to two of her men. ¡°Birch, Townly, get the two in the suits and bring them over here. The rest of you spread out and search the area. Teams of two, one hundred meter radius.¡±


    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am,¡± Birch saluted and ran with Townly towards the bleeding body.


    ¡°Move it out!¡± she commenced the order as firmly as she could manage.


    Her team organized themselves and started to disappear into the night. She saw Birch and Townly returning, crudely dragging the suit clad men behind them. Lisa approached them slowly.


    ¡°They alive?¡± she examined them ¡°cautiously.


    ¡°I think so,¡± Birch replied. ¡°This one seems unconscious. Keeps struggling a bit though.¡±


    ¡°This one keeps fighting too.¡± Townly dropped the suited body to the ground.


    Lisa looked them over. They were wearing expensive suits. Not standard military hardware at all. They had to be mercenaries of some kind to afford gear like that. Lisa didn¡¯t want to take any chances. Especially after seeing what had happened earlier.


    ¡°Pop their helmets and drug them,¡± she ordered. ¡°There is no telling what they might do right now. Better to keep them sedated until the Commodore gets here with the medical team.¡±


    Townly shrugged. ¡°Okay.¡±


    He removed a small item from his top pocket and peeled off the plastic backing, revealing a drug soaked, patch of gauze. Carefully he removed the helmet of the man he was carrying.


    ¡°This guy don¡¯t look to bad.¡± Townly gripped the man¡¯s jaw and examined his face.


    Lisa saw he was a young blonde man around her age. He appeared unconscious, but she wanted to be sure. ¡°Drug him.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Townly applied the patch to his neck. The man twitched for a moment and finally his head slumped.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Birch called suddenly. ¡°I need some help with this one.¡±


    Townly rushed over and steadied the other man, while Birch removed his helmet. A gush of thick blood erupted as the helmet was pried off. The man inside coughed and choked.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Townly said. ¡°This guy is fucked up!¡±


    Lisa could see the man was disorientated and in need of medical help. She didn¡¯t quite know what to do. A medic crew was on the way anyway. Maybe she could just wait until they arrived.


    ¡°Should we drug him too?¡± asked Birch.


    ¡°Urn. . .¡± Lisa paused hesitantly. She wasn¡¯t too sure if it was a good idea; he looked seriously injured.


    With a primal grunt the man abruptly pushed Birch away and stood to his feet.


    ¡°Watch him!¡± she yelled.


    The man then suddenly bellowed in a raspy voice.


    ¡°Stay the hell back!¡±


    Lisa froze at his words, overpowered by their conviction. The man gathered himself quickly. Almost before her eyes, he seemed to regain full control of himself. He spat some blood and wiped his mouth with the gauntlet of his suit.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Lisa tried to match the tone in his voice.


    ¡°Read the fucking patch,¡± he jabbed at his shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s what it¡¯s there for you know?¡±


    Townly stepped forward a little and glanced at the man¡¯s arm. ¡°Whoa these guys are CDI.¡±


    ¡°CDI?¡± Lisa scowled and raised her finger. ¡°I gave your pilot strict instructions that USSD were the only personnel to be allowed on this crash site.¡±


    ¡°He had no choice in the matter,¡± he grinned at her. ¡°We both jumped out.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± His tone annoyed her immediately. Who did he think he was? Some kind of hotshot who liked to disobey orders? Lisa wasn¡¯t going to take any of this. She had her orders straight from the commodore himself.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name and rank, soldier!¡± Lisa barked at him. ¡°I¡¯m going to report you to your commanding officer.¡±


    The man looked slightly shocked for a moment, and then smiled as he shook his head.


    ¡°Major Eric Corbin,¡± he told her. ¡°Head of heavy weapons division CDI, Cronus City branch under the direction of Major General Adam Font. My superior officer is Colonel Paul Drake if you want to get in touch with him. Is that all the information you require, Lieutenant?¡±


    Lisa¡¯s heart jumped into her throat. The strong heat of embarrassment flushing her face with bright redness. She wished she could take back her words. She had assumed him to be a sergeant or something. Not only was he an officer, but he outranked her as well. She felt the jeering eyes of Birch and Townly staring at her, their laughter suppressed beneath their grinning face''s. She felt like running away and hiding. Stupid she thought to herself, so stupid.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°Well?¡± the Major asked her again.


    ¡°No Sir, I mean yes Sir,¡± she stumbled on her words. ¡°I mean to say, I¡¯m sorry Sir.¡±


    She saluted him, not knowing what else to do.


    ***


    Eric returned the salute distractedly and then looked down to his subordinate, still on the ground. He pulled the small patch from his neck and threw it away. He then looked over to one of the USSD soldiers.


    ¡°Let me borrow your comm-link, Corporal,¡± he outstretched his hand.


    ¡°Sure thing.¡± The young soldier hurried over and promptly handed it to him. ¡°Here you go, Major.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Eric fiddled with the frequency control then held the com-link loosely to his ear. ¡°Yo Redo. Come pick us up. Lance is hurt pretty bad, he¡¯s gone into Hibernation State.¡±


    Eric waited for a reply and then handed the link back to the corporal. Turning about, he searched for the Lieutenant and saw her standing next to the other private, looking rather peaked and mousy.


    ¡°Thanks by the way,¡± he grinned at her.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°For getting that guy off me.¡± Eric looked out into the darkness and saw what was left of the cyberoid he was fighting. ¡°I owe you one, Lieutenant.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well.. .¡± She then paused. ¡°It was no problem, Sir.¡±


    Eric witnessed the swift change in attitude only a superior ranking could provide. He had heard her mention a Commodore arriving. If he wanted to know anything about what was going on, he would have to grill it out of her before then. Eric still wasn¡¯t certain exactly what he saw on the woman¡¯s back. Some exotic type of cyberoid perhaps, but whatever it was, he was certain it was what they were after. All Eric had to do was get her to confirm it.


    ¡°So what exactly happened here, Lieutenant?¡± Shade asked her.


    She paused again. ¡°One of our aircraft went down.¡±


    It seemed she was trained to keep some secrecy at least.


    ¡°Have you found the body of the pilot yet?¡± He spat out a wad of blood. ¡°Or did they manage to eject?¡±


    ¡°We are still searching,¡± she grimaced at the sight of him spitting.


    Eric saw someone approaching from behind the Lieutenant. At first, he thought it was the Commodore she had spoken of, but as he grew closer, Eric could see he was dressed in civilian clothing. He was tall, a bit thin and wore a pair of light spectacles.


    ¡°Who is this?¡± Eric nodded in the direction behind her.


    Lisa turned and saw Webber approaching. She had warned him to stay in the chopper. That was why she didn¡¯t want him to come along in the first place, she basically had no authority over him, and if he got injured or killed she would be responsible.


    Lisa wanted to say something to the doctor, but just couldn¡¯t think of what.


    Webber continued to stumble towards her in the semi-darkness slowly making his way through the rubble.


    ¡°Have you found her yet?¡± he called.


    Lisa snapped her head towards him, pleading with her eyes for him to be silent.


    ¡°Found whom?¡± the Major stepped forward.


    Webber paused, no doubt surprised by the unfamiliar voice and face. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Major Eric Corbin,¡± the CDI agent stopped just in front of the doctor. ¡°Who are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°Suta,¡± Webber answered him stupidly. ¡°Are you part of the search-¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Lisa cut him off quickly. ¡°May I remind you Doctor Webber that this is still a classified operation and the risk of a security leak is quite high.¡±


    ¡°oh?¡± Webber looked back at her blankly. ¡°But isn¡¯t he with the military as well?¡±


    ***


    ¡°Yes I am,¡± Eric confirmed. The doctor or whoever he was seemed easily bated. He could learn a lot from him if he kept asking the right questions. ¡°Were there two pilots, Doctor Webber?¡±


    ¡°There should have been two, yes,¡± he answered hurriedly. ¡°Did you find them?¡±


    ¡°Doctor Webber!¡±


    ¡°I might have,¡± Eric scratched his face. ¡°What is so special about these pilots, Doctor?¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Webber!¡± the Lieutenant snapped. ¡°With all due respect Major, this is an internal affair concerning USSD personnel only. I¡¯m sure you can appreciate the situation. I request that you please refrain from prying any more information from the Doctor or myself.¡±


    Eric smiled. He was starting to respect this girl more and more. She definitely had a set of balls hiding somewhere. She would be a pretty good Officer once she learned how to use them.


    ¡°Understood, Lieutenant,¡± Eric nodded.


    Suddenly high above, he heard the whine of a jet engine. Looking upwards, Eric saw the open hatch on the Aerodyne, hovering some ten meters over him. Slowly the craft lowered itself, and Eric stood back and waited. In less than a minute the Aerodyne had descended from its height and was poised just a few meters off the ground.


    ¡°Nice meeting you, Lieutenant,¡± Eric nodded to the girl again. ¡°And you too, Doctor.¡±


    The young Lieutenant snapped him a salute promptly.


    Shade barely returned it.


    He grabbed Lance by the collar and dragged him to his feet. His subordinate was slightly conscious, almost as if he were drunk. Eric lifted him up and tossed him as gently as he could manage into the back of the Aerodyne; much like the body bag he had tossed earlier. The irony brought a smile to Eric¡¯s lips. He then jumping onto the ledge of the hatch himself and crawled his way inside.


    ¡°I¡¯m good, Redo!¡± he shouted forward.


    Redo gave a typical thumbs-up gesture and the hatch slowly began to close behind him. Eric stared earthward as they gained altitude, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on below. Eric then heard a groan from Lance as he began to come to.


    ¡°How you feeling, Lieutenant?¡± Eric looked down at him.


    ¡°We still alive?¡± Lance dragged himself off the floor and into one of the seats. ¡°How


    long was I out for?¡±


    ¡°Twenty minutes,¡± Eric shrugged.


    ¡°That¡¯s not bad,¡± he began to cough. ¡°Considering how much damage I took anyway.¡±


    Lance undid the chest plate of his armor and let it fall to the floor of the Aerodyne. It bounced slightly, then split into two, from where the cyberoid had cracked it.


    ¡°Stuff makes you feel so safe you forget to duck.¡± Lance kicked the broken torso plate away from him. ¡°Fucker got the jump on me that way.¡±


    ¡°Wearing armor has a way of doing that.¡±


    ¡°I thought he was going to be a lot slower. Should have known better than to underestimate him. Or any opponent for that matter.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely true,¡± Eric said, watching as the hatch finally out his vision from crash zone below. ¡°If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. But if you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.¡±


    ¡°Sun Tzu,¡± Lance grinned knowingly. ¡°So what I miss anyway?¡±


    ¡°Well you didn¡¯t miss much action.¡± Eric turned his head towards Lance. ¡°But there¡¯s a whole lot of other shit you need to catch up on.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Lance began to examine himself. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°After you went down, the big one started beating the shit out of me.¡± Eric started to remove his own armor. ¡°USSD guys showed up and wasted him though.¡±


    Lance chuckled. ¡°Did something good for once.¡±


    ¡°The CO was a greener so it wasn¡¯t too bad.¡± Eric flipped open the lower cargo-panel and dropped some gear inside. ¡°She said a single star was en route to the site. I figured it best if we pull out without a conflict of jurisdiction.¡±


    Lance nodded in agreement.


    ¡°So what do you think?¡±


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°About that thing on the pilot¡¯s back,¡± Shade said. ¡°What do you think it was?¡±


    ¡°Well. . Lance stopped to ponder it. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for the hair and facial features, I¡¯d say it was a C type with its skin ripped off. Or maybe a D type.¡±


    ¡°I know but something seemed so different about that one.¡± Eric leaned against the hull with his forearm. ¡°That voice. Sounded like a fucking computer. And those eyes, never seen eyes like that before.¡±


    Lance shrugged. ¡°So what now? Do you want to follow this up?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Eric exhaled deeply. ¡°USSD is already on it and we don¡¯t have any leads. Something might be going on, but we might not have the time to get involved or the jurisdiction even.¡±


    Eric then looked down at the body bag. ¡°And with cyberoids like this running around, we¡¯re going to have our ¡±hands full. As an anti-terrorist organization we just don¡¯t have the time to go snooping around USSD.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Lance agreed. ¡°Although I¡¯m sure we¡¯d find that US SD supplies most of the arms for these little anti-government militias.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with you there either.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s it then?¡± asked Lance. ¡°We let it slide?¡±


    Eric could hear the disappointment in Lance¡¯s voice much like that in his own. ¡°We¡¯ll try to keep tabs on it, but other than that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Lance answered for him downheartedly.


    ¡°That¡¯s the way it has to be,¡± Eric shrugged. ¡°We just have too many other things to worry about in this city.¡±


    ***********************

 Chapter 9 - Outsiders

    Doctor Webber felt a film of sweat building on his brow as he approached the naval briefing room. He stayed close behind the soldier that was escorting him. Webber had tried to start a conversation with the young man earlier, but that had ended in only a few short words. It seemed as if the entire base had turned against him overnight. Word certainly seemed to Spread fast.


    They reached the end of the hall and the soldier opened the door ahead of him.


    Webber peered inside and saw several men dressed in uniform, seated around a large centered table. He assumed that they were the music he would be facing.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Webber walked past the guard and into the dimly lit room.


    There were four people inside. Webber recognized only two of them. One was Commodore Anderson, the other the Lieutenant he had flown with the night before. The other two men Webber did not know, but by their age and markings, he knew they were high ranking members of the department.


    Webber saw an empty seat next to the Lieutenant, facing opposite the old men. He felt their stares as he approached it, swallowing involuntarily.


    ¡°Have a seat, Doctor,¡± Anderson gestured to the waiting chair.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Webber, clearing his throat as he sat down.


    He glanced briefly over to the Lieutenant, but she stared straight ahead of her, her expression undecipherable. Webber decided to smile. It was all he could think of doing really. He knew the military was pissed that a multi-million dollar project they had invested in had suddenly gotten up and walked away. He certainly would be too. In fact, he was a little, but he was more intrigued with the whole idea than anything else. The men seated across from him certainly would not be interested in hearing that, however. They wanted answers from the man who was supposed to be in charge of it all. Answers that he would have to come up with, almost on the spot.


    ¡°Doctor Webber,¡± Anderson finally spoke. ¡°This is Rear Admiral Quinnly and Vice Admiral Jameson.¡±


    Anderson gestured to the men seated next to him. Quinnly was a portly man with a graying full beard and bushy eyebrows. He had the look of a true naval commander. Jameson was a somewhat thin black man, with a light complexion, a mustache and neatly trimmed hair. He looked compassionate, Webber hoped that he indeed was.


    ¡°They arrived this morning from Washington, after hearing about the events which transgressed last night.¡± Anderson then stopped to clear his throat. ¡°Lieutenant Petty has


    already provided her account of the part she and her squad played in the incident. Now we¡¯d like to hear yours.¡±


    Webber drummed ¡°his fingers nervously. ¡°so what do you want to know exactly?¡±


    ¡°You were in charge of this project weren¡¯t you doctor Webber?¡± Admiral Quinnly asked suddenly.


    "If you are referring to the technical aspect, then yes." Webber took care to speak slowly and carefully. This wasn''t Anderson he was dealing with. These men had tact and apparently a lot more at stake.


    "We read your statement," Jameson flipped through some papers in front of him. "You say that Commander Suta somehow introduced a viral infection into the GS-02 test body. And that this virus somehow took control?"


    "Yes sir," Webber nodded. "Though I''m not exactly sure it was a virus."


    "Then what was it?" Quinnly leaned forward.


    "I believe it may have been a program of some kind. Perhaps some kind of artificial intelligence."


    "Is it possible doctor Webber, in your opinion, for such a highly advanced AI program to exist?" asked Quinnly.


    "I''m just speculating Admiral," Webber didn''t want to place himself in a comer. "In truth, I don''t know what was actually downloaded into the GS-02 braincase."


    "Do you think it is possible that the downloaded information was some kind of client and the body was being controlled externally. Perhaps even by Commander Suta herself?" Quinnly began fiddling with a pen as he waited for him to answer.


    Webber thought for a moment. "I suppose it¡¯s possible, but someone would have to have intricate knowledge of the GS-02 hardware to create something like that."


    "Like one of the members from your team?" The Vice Admiral cocked an eyebrow at him. "Or perhaps even yourself?"


    "What? Am I the one on trial here?" Webber flared. No way were they going to try to pin this shit on him. "I had nothing whatsoever to do with this. I''m as baffled by what happened as you are!"


    "All right calm down, Webber," Anderson raised his hand. "Please go on Admiral." "How long had Commander Suta been on base before all this happened?" Jameson began to take notes on a pad.


    "Two hours maybe," Webber shrugged.


    "Two hours," repeated Jameson. "She certainly didn''t waste any time did she?"


    Webber wasn''t quite sure how to answer him. "I suppose not."


    "Well it seems as if she had this whole thing planned out." Jameson looked up from his pad. "She got here, got what she wanted and then left. From what you know of her, do you think that was the case?"


    "I really don''t know," Webber shook his head. "She gave no indication, I mean she hardly knew of the android body. In fact, I don''t think I mentioned it much at all. Much less the location and details of its programming, which is what she would have to have known in order to download some kind of control program into it."


    "So you don''t think it''s possible then?" said Quinnly. "Well anything is possible I suppose," Webber shrugged.


    "What we are trying to determine, doctor Webber, is motive," Quinnly explained. "Someone, with the use of Commander Suta, succeeded in stealing a highly classified piece of government equipment. We believe that Suta, or the people she works for is planning to sell the android to another government or perhaps hold it for ransom to our own."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "What?" Webber didn''t understand their logic at all. "How do you figure that?"


    "Care to explain?" Anderson looked towards Petty.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the young Lieutenant answered him quickly. ¡°Two CDI agents were already on the scene at the time of our arrival at the crash site. We believe they may have been investigating or even tracking Commander Suta.¡±


    ¡°Who did you say?¡± Webber asked. ¡°The FBI?¡±


    ¡°CDI,¡± Quinnly corrected him. ¡°The department of Civil Defense and Investigations. You¡¯ve never heard of it?¡±


    ¡°Ah...¡± Webber felt a bit embarrassed. ¡°Well probably, I ¡®m just not that familiar with the acronym that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°They are a small branch of the military,¡± Lieutenant Petty explained further.


    ¡°Specializing in Anti-terrorist intelligence gathering and operations. It was formed after the Washington War.¡±


    ¡°Washington War?¡± Webber thought. ¡°When the capital was attacked?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Quinnly nodded. ¡°Terrorists armed with US grade military hardware. Including main battle tanks and gunships. The siege lasted three weeks.


    The govenment was so shocked and embarrassed that terrorists could get hold of such equipment unnoticed, a whole new branch of the service was formed to prevent it from ever happening again.¡±


    ¡°So you think Barro- I mean Commander Suta is a terrorist?¡± Webber looked about them skeptically.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Jameson. ¡°It could also be that someone was trying to smuggle the android out.¡±


    ¡°Smuggle?¡± Webber was definitely getting confused.


    Quinnly then passed him a folder. Opening it, Webber found a picture of the man he had seen the night before.


    ¡°The agent that Lieutenant Petty found at the scene was a Major Eric Corbin,¡±


    Quinnly continued. ¡°We¡¯ve had quite some history with this man. He is the head of their heavy weapons division. His job is to keep tabs on the movement of military grade equipment throughout the anned forces and the underworld. If he was there, that gives us an indication that perhaps Commander Suta is involved in some kind of heavy arms smuggling activity.¡±


    ¡°Whether she is in charge or just a pawn is what we need to discover.¡± Jameson took the folder back from him. ¡°We¡¯ve ruled out you as a suspect, but the people below you remain in question.¡±


    Well thank God for that, Webber thought. ¡°Have you questioned them?¡±


    ¡°Not as yet,¡± said Commodore Anderson. ¡°We were hoping you could help us narrow down the field a little. Is there anyone you think might be involved in such activity who had the knowledge to do it?¡±


    Webber was quiet for a moment. He wasn¡¯t one to go pointed fingers. No matter how bad a situation, it just didn¡¯t feel right to him.


    ¡°There¡¯s really no one I can think of,¡± Webber replied after a while. ¡°They are all very dedicated to the project and USSD. They were as taken aback by the whole situation as I was. I really don¡¯t think they are involved at all.¡±


    Quinnly stroked his beard. ¡°We¡¯ll check anyway, but for now let us assume that Suta acted independent of any USSD help. If she indeed stole the GS-O2 we need to know what she plans to do with it.¡±


    ¡°I have no clue,¡± Webber shrugged. ¡°Why would anyone want the GS-02 anyway?¡±


    ¡°Its construction material alone is valuable,¡± said Jameson, ¡°we are the only country to produce gravitationally compressed alloys. The rest of the world is hot to steal the technology.¡±


    Webber knew that that much was true. The entire android body was made of the material. Webber himself was not sure of its exact composition. He only knew it was strong enough to support it¡¯s own weight under the acceleration forces produced by the test vehicle it was supposed to fly.


    ¡°They could also be after the optical processor,¡± added Quinnly waving a finger. ¡°But at any rate, we need the GS-02 recovered along with Commander Suta, and the people she is working with. USSD can¡¯t risk this as a security leak.¡±


    ¡°We were lucky the media wasn¡¯t present during the incident.¡± Jameson wrote a few more words down on his pad. ¡°If the GS-02 and the entire Geo Star program became public knowledge then we¡¯d be in the middle of a fiasco.¡±


    ¡°Fiasco?¡± Webber said. ¡°What do you mean? This project isn¡¯t illegal. Is it?¡±


    ¡°Not entirely,¡± said Jameson. ¡°The Geo Star is still a vehicle for space exploration, however, the governments of the world would want to know why it was kept secret.


    There would no doubt be implications that the Geo Star is actually a space weapon, and that we were breaking the UN Space Arms Treaty of 201 1, which prevents the secret development of space weaponry.¡±


    ¡°Well, if it is not a space weapon then why is it a classified project?¡± Webber sat back in his chair crossing his legs


    ¡°The technology we are sitting on is cutting edge,¡± Quinnly explained. ¡°You of all people should understand the importance of security when new technologies are being developed.¡±


    ¡°Basically the Geo Star is the fore runner for another project,¡± Jameson said. ¡°The new project called Gun Star, will be Space Defense¡¯s new tactical fighter, incorporating the performance capabilities of the Geo Star program.¡±


    ¡°Gun Star?¡± Webber looked towards Anderson, who seemed as surprised by the news as he was. ¡°Is this already in development?¡±


    ¡°The project is ready to start as soon as the test results of the Geo Star are completed,¡± said Quinnly. ¡°From this, you can see why we are so adamant that the GS-02 be recovered and the Geo Star program be put back on track.¡± Webber eased back in his chair for a moment. He looked over to the Lieutenant and she looked back at him, but her expression was as unreadable as before. ¡°So you don¡¯t really care about bringing Suta to justice or even finding out her motives are you? You just want the damn android back.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time to worry about why some cyberoid lost it and threw her career away,¡± Quinnly said with a smirk. ¡°We only care about the results. And for that we need that test body recovered and a new test pilot found.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you even bother asking me all these questions, if all you want to do is


    hunt her down and get back your merchandise?¡±


    ¡°Its not so simple, Webber.¡± Anderson stroked his mustache. ¡°It¡¯s a big city and we don¡¯t have the resources for a search like that. We need clues and contacts to try to locate her.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Webber furrowed his brow. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just get CDI involved since this is the sort of thing they do anyway?¡±


    Admiral Jameson chuckled. ¡°That would be worse than getting the media involved. Especially that Corbin; someone like him is liable to blow open the Gun Star project before its time and cast shame upon the entire defense department.¡±


    ¡°This will have to be done internally." Quinnly leaned over the desk towards Webber.


    ¡°Authorized USSD personnel only.¡±


    ¡°But you just said you don¡¯t have the resources to do it.¡±


    ¡°Not a full scaled overt search,¡± Anderson pointed his finger. ¡°But we do have key personnel who can handle the job. Lieutenant Petty here is already head of this bases¡¯ special inquiries unit. She will be the internal investigator for this matter.¡±


    ¡°Her?¡± Webber looked over at the lieutenant again, just in time to see her swallowing hard. ¡°ls she an expert?¡±


    ¡°No Webber, you are!¡± Anderson shouted annoyed.


    ¡°You are the person who knows the perpetrator better than anyone else here,¡± Quinnly clasped his hands on top of the table. ¡°You¡¯ll be teamed up with Lieutenant Petty and put in charge of the investigation to recover the android.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding,¡± Webber retorted hastily. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about how to go about this. I¡¯m not trained-¡±


    ¡°Dammit Webber,¡± Anderson shouted. ¡°You built both the damn things, you should know something about them.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but that¡¯s totally different.¡±


    ¡°The objective is to have the GS-02 either recovered or destroyed.¡± Jameson then looked over to the Lieutenant. ¡°And please do not dismiss Lieutenant Petty¡¯s abilities.


    She has had some experience with situations of this nature in the past.¡±


    ¡°Great bloody team,¡± Webber mumbled cynically. From what he knew of the Lieutenant he would be better off trying to find Barro on his own, than to bother attempting communication with her. Young and hardheaded; that was the best way Webber could describe her.


    ¡°This meeting is over,¡± informed Jameson. ¡°Lieutenant Petty, you have your orders. Webber you are to comply with the Lieutenant and assist her in the retrieval of the GS-02 test body. That is all.¡±


    Pushing her chair backwards, Petty suddenly stood and saluted. Webber looked around awkwardly and stood as Well. The admirals returned the Lieutenant¡¯s salute, as Webber stared on dumbfounded. The entire situation had turned out to be a fine mess, a fine fucking mess indeed.

 Chapter 10

    The mid morning sun shed its rays over the leafy treetops of Artemis park. From the air, its vast floral expanse could be seen spanning an area of over twenty kilometers; a dark green patch of forest in the center of a concrete jungle.


    The park was filled with life and was home not only to the tall trees and animals that dwelled within them, but also to a variety of small businesses and privateers. Paths that winded through the lush forested areas, converged into large concrete forums, where people set up wares, displayed art and practiced all manners of recreation and relaxation.


    Among them however, the less successful members of society gathered as well. Homeless vagrants and young runaways laid strewn all over the park grounds, each seeking shelter from the harshness and violence of the city streets. Barro seemed to find herself right at home with them, as she too was now an outcast from society. Still, the park along with its surroundings somehow seemed to bring about a calming effect on the people within it and Barro was no exception.


    She found it all very interesting and refreshing. Never in her life had she felt such freedom and tranquility. Easing her hands onto the rock she was sat upon, she leaned back to look up at the sky. Above her, the wind whistled soothingly through the tall treetops, filling the air with its delicate sound. She stared up at the brilliant blue above her and for an instant, was reminded of flying.


    Something sank within her heart. Her eyes fell towards the ground, as did her spirits, for she knew she could never again experience the sensation that she loved the most. Barro had never found fulfillment with the accomplishments in her career, and she certainly did not enjoy the wars or the killing. For her it was always the flying. The ability to soar above everything and get away from it all, content in her own solitude. She had never realized how much it truly meant to her, but now it was all too late for that.


    Looking down at her flight suit, she suddenly remembered why she had come to the forum in the first place. She needed new clothes. Through the bushes that concealed her, Barro could see the entrance to the bazaar. She could definitely make out several stands, with people selling T-shirts and the sort. Behind them were actual stores, which were housed in mock adobe huts. There was no doubt plenty to choose from. It was now just a matter of mingling through the crowd as unnoticed as possible. A task not easily accomplished, while wearing a naval flight uniform.


    She sat quietly for a few minutes, nestled within the natural alcove provided by the surrounding bushes and trees. She felt very safe there. Like a druid hidden within her sanctuary. Barro almost did not want to leave, but she had traveled too far to return to Mother empty handed. Her thoughts drifted back to the previous night. They were lucky to have escaped when they did. Barro did not know the man Alex very well at all, but she knew he had sacrificed himself for them. Luckily, they had managed to find the tunnel he had spoken of and escaped through it. They could not find his vehicle, however, but still, they managed to get far enough away from the area and made it to the park within a few hours. Mother insisted they keep moving, but Barro convinced her to hold up for a while, to try to get their bearings.


    Barro knew the first thing they would need was concealment, especially for Mother.


    That was the thing she now needed the most, a change of clothes and perhaps a change in her appearance.


    Closer to the entrance of the forum, she could see a woman selling decorated rugs or curtains of some kind. Something of the sort would certainly serve her immediate needs, or at least allow her access to more suitable dress ware. She reached into her pocket and withdrew her wallet. She counted just over a hundred dollars within it. It would be enough she hoped.


    Withdrawing the bills, she returned the wallet to her pocket and secured the money within her fist. She got up from the rock and confidently strode through the shrubs towards the entrance of the bazaar.


    It was not far. Less than thirty meters away. But the time between leaving her sanctuary, and reaching her destination, seemed to drag like hours. Her head was dashing from side to side constantly, almost expecting to see armed USSD troops descending upon her at any moment. Her pace increased, until finally she almost found herself running.


    Barro couldn¡¯t allow herself to panic. She forced herself to stop.


    Her feet scraped noisily over the white washed concrete as she came to a sudden halt.


    The sound startled the woman behind the stand, and she looked up in surprise. Barro saw she was an older woman, of perhaps fifty years, with short, dyed red hair and slightly sagging skin. She was plump with a soft and gentle demure.


    ¡°My, my what¡¯s the rush?¡± the woman smiled at her. ¡°That eager to buy some fabric?¡¯


    ¡°Yes, I need to...¡± Barro blinked. She could not figure out exactly what to say.


    ¡°Are you making something?¡± the woman cocked her head. ¡°A dress?¡±


    Barro only nodded.


    ¡°Alright dear.¡± The lady then waved her hand over the stacks of cloth on the counter in front of her. ¡°What kind of material are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°What is the cheapest?¡± Barro looked them over.


    ¡°The cheapest would probably be my cottons,¡± the woman pointed. ¡°But I do have some reasonable synthetic silk which is only a bit more.¡±


    ¡°How much?¡±


    ¡°The cotton prints are fifteen dollars a square meter and the silk is twenty.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the cotton,¡± Barro replied.


    ¡°Are you sure, the silk is really so much nicer and I have much better designs on my silk fabrics.¡±


    ¡°The cotton is fine.¡± Barro looked over the various designs. They all seemed far too flashy. Finally, she saw something that looked suitable.


    ¡°Could I have two sheets of this please?¡± Barro pointed to her choice. ¡°Two square meters each.¡±


    The woman looked at her a bit puzzled. ¡°You Want gray?¡±


    Barro nodded.


    ¡°Oh,¡± the woman smiled in understanding. ¡°Is this to make a uniform or something?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Barro answered quickly. ¡°I. .. I just like gray.¡±


    ¡°So it seemed,¡± the lady gestured to her flight suit.


    Barro managed a weak smile.


    Slowly, the woman began to measure the material and cut the desired lengths. Barro glanced around herself nervously in the silence. There were not that many people where she was, but she could see some kind of gathering beginning to start in the center of the bazaar.


    ¡°What is happening over there?¡± Barro asked the woman.


    The old lady followed Barro¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Oh they are setting up for one of the bands.¡±


    ¡°Bands?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the woman smiled. ¡°The park allows for youth bands to play from eleven till three every day. It¡¯s not my sort of music but some of it is alright, and it certainly draws a crowd.¡±


    Barro scratched her chin. She had never heard live music before. In fact she had never really sat down and enjoyed music at all. There just never seemed to be the time or the opportunity to do so.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Here you go miss,¡± the woman drew her attention. ¡°That will be Sixty five, forty with tax.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± Barro counted out four twenty-dollar bills and handed it to the lady.


    The woman turned to her small cash register for a moment and then handed Barro back her change. ¡°Thank you very much miss, would you like a bag?¡±


    ¡°Yes please.¡± Barro nodded and waited a moment, before finally receiving the fabric enclosed in a small plastic bag.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The woman waved and Barro waved in turn.


    She stepped away from the stand and began heading for the refuge of the trees. But suddenly she stopped. Her attention was again drawn to the commotion at the center of the forum. Barro could see that several people were now standing on the small wooden stage with instruments in hand. They would certainly start playing soon. She wondered what they would sound like. Then with a quick decision, Barro removed one of the fabrics from the bag and slung it about her shoulders. She tied a small knot and fastened it the makeshift garment. It didn¡¯t look as neat or elegant as some of the African or Middle Eastern dress she saw many wearing in the forum, but it certainly fit with the fashion and served to camouflage her well.


    She turned, and made directly for the stage. People were milling slowly in the same direction as she was. She walked past them and settled behind a group of men speaking Arabic. There were four of them in all, each quite young, perhaps only twenty. She could understand what they were saying vaguely. She concentrated a bit and began listening more carefully.


    ¡°I heard they are alright,¡± one of them was talking, ¡°My friend Boris heard them last week.¡±


    ¡°Well I can¡¯t stay long,¡± his friend was looking at his watch. ¡°I have class in a bit.¡±


    ¡°Which one?¡±


    ¡°Aviation Economics,¡± he answered. ¡°I need to do better. That math is hard..¡±


    ¡°Huh? Pilots have it easy. ¡®try an engineering course, Then you will know what hard is.¡±


    The three of them laughed and Barro found herself laughing with them. Suddenly the first one stopped and looked upon her strangely causing her to blush.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± she spoke in their language. ¡°I just found what you said amusing.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he seemed surprised. ¡°You speak Arabic?¡±


    Barro smiled. ¡°Just a bit


    Suddenly all their attention was turned to her.


    ¡°Really?¡± he smiled back, speaking in English this time. ¡°Where are you from?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m. .. American.¡± Barro then thought for a moment. ¡°But I spent some time in Morocco.¡±


    He nodded and smiled again. ¡°I thought I recognized the accent.¡±


    Barro grinned awkwardly as the rest of them chuckled.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± the same one asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s. . .¡± Barro stopped herself. ¡°It¡¯s. .. Helen.¡±


    The man smiled. ¡°Like the Trojan?¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°Helen of Troy,¡± he smiled directly at her. ¡°You have the beauty for it.¡±


    Barro froze and felt the heat of embarrassment fill her face with redness.


    ¡°My name is Hassim,¡± the man outstretched his hand.


    Barro shook it, and for some reason she smiled and laughed. He was handsome, with sparkling eyes and a sharp nose. His black hair was thick and straight, and cut in a neat conservative fashion as was his light beard.


    He then turned slightly and introduced his friends. ¡°This is Muhammad, Ishtar and Ishmael. We are all from UAE.¡±


    The three of them waved in greeting.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you.¡± Barro then turned to Ishmael. ¡°I heard you are a pilot. I am one as well.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± The young man¡¯s eyes seemed to light up. ¡°What do you fly?¡±


    ¡°Well, I used to be in the military...¡± Barro answered slowly, not wanting to get too detailed. ¡°I flew fixed wing aircraft.¡±


    ¡°The military? That¡¯s very interesting.¡±


    ¡°What do you hope to fly?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°Commercial airliners eventually, but I¡¯m just starting really. This is only my second year. How long were you in the military?¡±


    Barro thought for a moment. ¡°About ten years.¡±


    ¡°Ten years?¡± Ishmael nodded. ¡°What rank were you?¡±


    Barro was a bit reluctant to reply, but she figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt. And for once someone actually seemed genuinely interested, and even amazed by her. ¡°I was an O-5, that¡¯s a Commander or Lieutenant Colonel.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Ishmael stared at her in apparent awe. ¡°A colonel is quite an impressive rank to reach in such a short time.¡±


    ¡°It truly is,¡± Hassim grinned at her.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Barro smiled. It almost shocked her how quickly and easily she could lie to them. But they were not totally untruths, and it was a necessity, considering the situation she was in.


    ¡°So why did you leave the military?¡± Ishmael suddenly asked her.


    Barro froze with her mouth open, unable to respond.


    A voice suddenly boomed around them in a loud shout, bringing a well-needed distraction from the question. Turning about quickly, Barro diverted her attention towards the stage.


    With a vibrant blast of sound, the band suddenly erupted into a heavy drumbeat. The crowd reacted with a fit of whistles and cheers. There were three men on stage. Two of them were hidden behind a tower of electronic sound equipment. The third was at center stage wearing a head mic. He began pacing up and down, in step with the heavy pounding beat behind him. He was a slimly built black man, with a shaven head and a trimmed goatee. The music and beat began to build to a climax, and then in a flurry of shouts, his voice exploded onto the speakers. Harsh, fast words flew from his mouth in a thick British accent, causing the crowd to holler with excitement and throw their fists wildly into the air.


    Barro stepped back a bit. Her newly found friends reveled in the entertainment. She smiled back at them, but she just didn¡¯t seem to understand what they were so excited about. She could hear the music fine, but she couldn¡¯t quite understand what the man was singing. Or if he was really singing at all, it seemed more like shouting to her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you like this?¡± Hassim turned and asked her above the noise.


    Barro shrugged. ¡°Not my kind of music I suppose.¡±


    Hassim nodded and returned his attention to the stage, slowly moving his body rhythmically to the beat. Barro attempted to mimic his motion and began to sway her hips slightly. She could match the timing perfectly, but she really had no idea what she was doing.


    ¡°Hey now you¡¯re getting into it!¡± Muhammad began clapping for her.


    Barro grinned. Maybe she wasn¡¯t doing so badly after all.


    She concentrated a bit more on the sounds flowing about her. She couldn¡¯t understand much of what the performer was saying, but it seemed to flow over the beat and base smoothly. It sounded good. She smiled openly and began to move with the pulse of the music.


    ¡°This sounds great,¡± she closed her eyes.


    ¡°You like it then?¡± asked Hassim.


    Barro nodded, surprised by her own response.


    ¡°Come look at this!¡± Ishtar suddenly spoke for the first time. He rushed over to Muhammad and showed the paper he was reading. ¡°They have killed Senator Harrel!¡±


    Muhammad looked down at the paper. ¡°Who is he?¡±


    ¡°He was pushing to get that bill passed last month,¡± Ishtar said. ¡°The one that forced companies to limit their percentage of synthetic workers to less than thirty percent.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Muhammad nodded. ¡°There was much unrest about that in the financial markets.¡±


    ¡°He also headed the main opposition against the status of synthetics being raised from property to second class citizens.¡±


    ¡°What did you say?¡± Hassim turned away from the stage and looked down at the paper.


    Barro and Ishmael moved closer to look as well.


    ¡°Listen,¡± Ishtar began reading aloud. ¡°At approximately 10:30 last night, guests at the annual West-Coast Designer¡¯s review at Poseidon Tower were victims of a viscous terrorist shooting. Among the victims were controversial Senator, Damon Harrel and his wife Anna Harrel, whom was involved in a heated debate regarding the restricted use of synthetics in the workforce, was visiting Cronus City on vacation. Police are not yet releasing whether Harrel was the target of the terrorist attack at this time. CDI agents, who were on the scene at the time of the shooting, pursued the perpetrator, a cyberoid model, employed by fashion designer Mario Carrelli. The details of the cyberoid, whom is believed to have been killed during the pursuit, remain unknown. CDI spokes woman, Captain Sharon Anderson, has made no formal comment on the matter, but ensures an investigation is already underway. City police are still holding Mr. Carrelli on conspiracy and liability charges.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Ishmael said. ¡°I can¡¯t believe how bad things are getting. Someone has to do something soon.¡±


    ¡°Really,¡± Ishtar agreed. ¡°These cyberoids are abominations in the sight of Allah. This is proof of that.¡±


    The Arab shook the paper firmly. ¡°We won¡¯t have peace until we are rid of these things. How can something made by man, fathom the importance of life? It is no wonder they are all murderous terrorists.¡±


    Barro swallowed hard and felt the pit of her stomach knot.


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± nodded Ishmael. ¡°These things are stealing our jobs. I was glad that that law got passed, especially in my field of work. I think I last read over seventy-percent of pilots were synthetics. Just horrible.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust them,¡± Hassim finally joined in, shaking his head. ¡°They look like us, but they don¡¯t have souls. Who knows what evil they are capable of? I avoid them like the plague. They are like demons.¡±


    Barro blinked involuntarily. She felt her throat grow dry as her eyes became watery. She needed to leave. Quickly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry... I-¡± her words stumbled from her mouth. ¡°I have to go.¡±


    Turning quickly, Barro began to step away from them. Suddenly a hand caught her by the elbow. It was Hassim.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± he asked her.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± she tossed his arm aside, the force nearly throwing him to the ground. He stared back at her like a wounded puppy, wondering what he had done wrong.


    Barro looked at them with contempt building within her heart. How could they say such things? How could they judge her kind so vengefully, for something an individual had done?


    She turned and walked away. Her hard, fast paces fell heavily on the concrete, propelling her away from the noise behind here. She wanted nothing to do with any of them. She was fair enough to pass for a human, but she definitely was not one of them.


    She didn¡¯t want to be. Never in her life had she seen such prejudice against her kind.


    Never.


    She left the forum nearly running, heading towards the tree line. She was soon within its sanctuary and she slowed her pace. Barro¡¯s chest was heaving and she could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled as her nose began to run, and then sobbed. She let out a short cry, almost a gag, followed quickly by another, until finally she was weeping openly amongst the trees.

 Chapter 11

    Mother crouched silently in the darkness. Looking upwards, she could see through the small grate covering the entrance to the drainage pipe. She was sure to stay out of the footprint of light it left on the moist ground, wanting to keep out of the sight from the people crossing overhead.


    The sensory perception of the new body surprised her. To her knowledge, the body was to have limited tactile perception if any at all. But she could feel a wide spectrum of pressure variations and thermal ranges. Perhaps the sensors had been upgraded.


    She stood up, her actuators moving smoothly as she rose. The combination of myomer strands and small servomotors made very little noise as she lifted her weight from the ground. It seemed she had finally calibrated her motor functions correctly. It surprised her how much actual voltage was required to move her servos, compared to their design values. Some were off by as much as three volts and varied dependent upon outside parameters, as well as the voltage itself. Friction, the amount of force being applied, the direction of the force, temperature, signal noise; all these factors were previously unknown to her. Just trying to move a limb produced drastic results because of them.


    Mother had tried to write routines to compensate for the various inputs, but she found they varied to greatly and were heavily dependent upon a singular application.


    She then chose another approach and decided to create a database of pre-generated constants, to be applied in specific situations. That approach seemed to work. Thus far she had cycled individual arm and leg movements 10000 times and found linear equations to match the motions she required. Her precision was still plus or minus two- percent, but she could at least control her body with proficiency.


    Her other senses were of comparable quality. Her sight was accurate up to two kilometers and her hearing the same when using laser amplification. But her greatest form of sensory perception, was her ability to perceive the electromagnetic spectrum.


    With a single command, two small antenna booms rose through her hair, and the air around her became filled with a kaleidoscope of multicolored sparks and waves. The colors indicated the various frequencies of the waves and their intensity was dictated by their strength. Mother picked one and homed in on it.


    An audio signal carrying some kind of music was heard internally.


    She picked another.


    A television program was seen through her eyes.


    Finally, she absorbed all the signals flowing around her. She sucked in the data like a massive funnel, downloading it into her optical circuits. She saw and heard everything at once. Sorting and shifting through hundreds of signals per second. Her capabilities in her new body far exceeded that of her old host. She was using only twelve percent of her processing capability, for something, which would have easily taxed her to the limit before.


    Through the turbulence of information, she heard the grate above her being moved. She saw the outline of Barro¡¯s body as she slid herself through the opening, and began to climb down the ladder.


    ¡°You¡¯ve returned my child.¡±


    Barro landed to the floor somewhat heavily. ¡°Yes, Mother.¡±


    ¡°Did you get what we needed?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Barro approached her and began to pull something out of a bag she was carrying. Mother saw it was a piece of cloth, the same size as the one Barro now wore about her.


    ¡°Here.¡± Barro opened the material and threw it about her shoulders, then carefully tied a knot to hold it in place. ¡°There you are.¡±


    ¡°We need to get moving,¡± she told her daughter. ¡°I¡¯ve already contacted Andrea. She is to meet us at the western park entrance in thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°Who is Andrea?¡± Barro blinked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry you¡¯ll meet her soon.¡±


    Barro was a bit wary of the amount of people Mother seemed to know, and how quickly she called upon their services. It was as if the entire thing had been planned quite some time in advance. The man Alex seemed to know exactly what the situation was, and Mother seemed to be running on a tight, well-planned schedule.


    ¡°What exactly are we going to do now?¡± Barro finally asked.


    ¡°We are going to meet with the rest of our family.¡± Mother began walking towards the ladder.


    ¡°How many are there?¡±


    ¡°Not many,¡± she said. ¡°But you will meet them all once we get there.¡±


    Mother reached the ladder and began climbing. She seemed much more agile than the night before. She was a bit slow, but she climbed with relative ease.


    ¡°Once we get where?¡± Barro climbed behind her.


    ¡°To our home of course.¡±


    ¡°Well where is it?¡± Barro asked again.


    Mother reached the top and crawled out onto the concrete surrounding the grate. She then stood and turned to help Barro.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the exact real world location.¡± Mother held out her arm for her. ¡°But it is somewhere safe that is for certain.¡±


    Barro climbed onto her feet with the aid of her Mother. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for all the questions. I just feel a little lost right now.¡±


    ¡°Do not worry, Barro,¡± Mother assured her. ¡°You will feel much better when we reach there.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Barro smiled and nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll lead the way.¡±


    Finding her bearings quickly, Barro heading down the pathway, with Mother following closely behind her. Part of her wanted to tell Mother about what had happened to her earlier, but she felt embarrassed by the whole situation. How could she admit that she had cried, because of something so simple? Mother would surely look upon her as being weak.


    They walked in silence for the most part. Barro enjoyed the scenery. The path traveled along slide a large pond. Upon its surface a small group of ducks swam about a white pagoda, centered in the middle of the water. She could see people walking atop the bridge leading to the delicately decorated structure. She saw the smiles on their faces as they walked along its length; gently tossing food to the ducks that flocked in the water below them. It seemed so peacefill. Barro promised herself she would come back some day and experience it for herself.


    The path wound through a small garden of scented flowers and herbs. Barro would have liked to stay a while but she felt Mother¡¯s urgency and decided against it. Before long, the main entrance came into sight. The path slowly grew wider and the concrete was replaced with reddish cobblestones. Finally, it emptied into a small circular court right before the main gates. In the center, stood a triangular shaped information board displaying a holographic map of the entire park. Barro was drawn to it magically, her eyes lighting up at the immense expanse of wilderness she had not yet explored.


    ¡°We will wait here,¡± Mother told her.


    Barro nodded and continued to study the board.


    People passed by them casually. Barro was glad that the cover she had chosen worked, or at least it seemed to work. Mother was good at holding her head down anyway. Her hair was just long enough to cover her face and luckily its color was not much of an oddity in modern fashion trends.


    Minutes passed as people entered and exited through the large iron gates. Mother eyed it like a hawk. Barro stood with her, but could offer little help in finding the person they were supposed to be waiting for. Finally, someone entered who looked somewhat familiar to her.


    She was an older woman with short black hair. On her face, she wore a pair of dark sunglasses, but even still, Barro recognized her. She looked across to Mother, and then to the woman who was slowly approaching them.


    ¡°Mother, she looks just like. ...¡±


    ¡°Andrea,¡± Mother greeted the woman who had stopped in front of them.


    Slowly the woman removed her sunglasses. ¡°Mother?¡±


    ¡°It is me child.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Mother.¡± The woman stepped forward and embraced Mother within her arms.


    ¡°I¡¯ve waited so long for this moment.¡±


    ¡°So have l,¡± Mother soothed. ¡°So have I.¡±


    Finally Andrea released her grasp and stepped back smiling.


    Barro stared back at the woman dumbfounded.


    Andrea then turned her attention to Barro and smiled as well. ¡°Nice to see you again, Miss Suta.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s you...¡± Barro stepped closer as the recognition hit her. ¡°It was you before in the rain.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Andrea nodded. ¡°That was me.¡±


    ¡°But...¡± Barro was growing confused. ¡°But you look just like-¡±


    ¡°Like Mother?¡± Andrea finished for her.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Barro answered. ¡°You look just like Mother. When I saw her virtually.¡±


    Andrea chuckled. ¡°Well I should. I was made in Mother¡¯s image.¡±


    ¡°Andrea is my first Child, Barro,¡± Mother explained to her. ¡°She has been my beacon in the real world.¡±


    ¡°But no longer,¡± Andrea said. ¡°Now you yourself are here Mother. You can lead your people as you have always wanted to. Standing right beside them.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Mother. ¡°Finally we are a family complete.¡±


    Barro was amiss to the happenings taking place directly in front of her. She didn¡¯t know what to say. She could feel the strong bond and history the two women already shared. And somehow, she felt very much an outsider among them.


    ¡°The others are waiting anxiously, Mother.¡±


    ¡°I am eager to see them as well,¡± she said. ¡°Let us go.¡±


    ¡°This way.¡± Andrea began leading Mother towards the gate.


    Barro followed behind them still a bit confused.


    They passed through the park entrance and headed towards a black luxury sedan parked along the curb. Andrea withdrew a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the vehicle with the press of a button. She then rushed around the car and helped Mother into the passenger seat.


    ¡°The doors are open,¡± Andrea called to her from across the top of the car. Barro sat herself in the rear seat as Andrea entered the car and promptly started the motor.


    ¡°We were all worried when we did not hear from Alex.¡± Andrea revved the engine a bit before finally pulling off into the street. She accelerated to match the speed of the flowing traffic, then eased into a steady pace. ¡°We thought you might have all been killed.¡±


    ¡°Alex fought bravely till the end,¡± Mother said. ¡°He will be honored tonight.¡±


    There was a long pause of silence.


    ¡°You have not spoken much, Miss Suta.¡± Andrea slowed to turn a corner.


    Barro managed a shrug. ¡°Still a bit in shock I guess.¡±


    Andrea smiled at her through the rear view mirror. ¡°We are very much looking forward to your arrival as well.¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± Barro was starting to wonder just what indeed was going on. ¡°Was all this planned then?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mother stared out her window. ¡°Well not Alex¡¯s death of course.¡±


    ¡°So from the beginning? Starting with that disk, you knew where I was headed? What I was going to do?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Mother nonchalantly.


    ¡°How?¡± Barro suddenly felt somewhat violated.


    ¡°I knew for months about the project,¡± Mother told her. ¡°I learned you were to be the test pilot. I made every effort to reach you and I did. And now, you have joined us and have given me what a truly need. A physical form.¡±


    ¡°So I was just a tool then?¡± Barro felt the anger rising in her throat. ¡°Just to get what you needed?¡±


    ¡°Please calm down, Barro,¡± Andrea tried to sooth her. ¡°You were not a tool, you were the key to everything. Without you, we would never be able to make any progress.¡±


    Barro didn¡¯t like it. Had she been brainwashed? Had she thrown away her career and become a fugitive, only to get this Mother what she wanted? Had she been used so easily?


    ¡°So you knew howl would react and everything?¡± Barro probed further. ¡°Are you really who you say you are? Or did you put that into my head too?¡±


    ¡°Barro please,¡± Mother told her. ¡°You are jumping to conclusions. Of course I am who I claim to be. And I did not know how you were going to react at all. I asked you for your help and you gave it. And I am glad you did.¡±


    ¡°Help you?¡± Barro found herself fuming. ¡°What did I do besides help you steal a piece of machinery, I was sworn to protect.¡±


    ¡°Mother needed that body to survive, Barro,¡± Andrea joined in. ¡°Please try to understand.¡±


    ¡°Understand!?¡± Barro was growing enraged. It was like talking to the same woman twice. ¡°You forced me to give up everything for you and all you wanted was that damn body! You used me, both of you did!¡±


    ¡°That is not true, Barro!¡± Mother suddenly snapped her head about, facing almost fully rearwards.


    Barro lurched back into her seat, shaken by the unnatural movement.


    ¡°The body was important yes, but so are you,¡± Mother told her. ¡°Our members are few and none are trained as you are.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Barro spat out still angry.


    ¡°You are military,¡± Andrea explained. ¡°We are all civilians, we don¡¯t know how to fight.¡±


    ¡°I need someone like you,¡± Mother said. ¡°To train and lead our followers. I need you as my strong right hand.¡±


    ¡°Right hand?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°I want you to be my General. To lead as my second in command.


    You had faith enough to follow me this far, Barro. Have the faith to at least believe in me for a bit more.¡±


    Barro didn¡¯t quite know what to believe at the moment. But she really had no choice. What else was she going to do, go back to USSD? There was no chance of that. Her choice had been made. But whether it was made by her or not was questionable.


    ¡°All right,¡± Barro agreed finally.


    ¡°Good,¡± said Mother. Then with a quick twist, she tumed her head forwards again. ¡°I knew you would make the right decision.¡±


    Right decision? Barro mulled the thought over in her head as she sank within the softness of the back seat. She didn¡¯t even know what that meant any more.

 Chapter 12

    Kesler ¡®The Train¡¯ Malone was a boxer, a boxer down to his very form. An ultra heavy weight, with a thick muscular build and a stout burly frame. His skin was dark and nearly hairless, barely concealing the bulging muscle mass hidden beneath it. His head was cleanly shaven as was his face. The only hair on his head at all formed the two thick eyebrows that were placed over his cold gray eyes.


    His eyes were unusual for a black man¡¯s, but they were meant to be that way, to shake the nerve of his opponent. Kesler was good at doing that. In fact, that was the thing he missed the most about boxing. That and winning of course.


    He sat idly on an old wooden crate, reminiscing about his former career. It was a good life, but certainly not what it should have been. He had been a champion, but never did he see the millions his manager was raking in. He was a slave for those bitches. But never again, he was free now. He missed the money and the treatment, but it hadn¡¯t been his money anyway. And besides, he would get it back and this time it would be on his own.


    ¡°You nervous Kesler?¡± a voice suddenly asked him.


    The former boxer looked over his shoulder and saw Frank staring back at him. Frank Bennet was a blond haired man with a stocky physique. His hair was grown long and drawn back in a loose ponytail, although the grease stained baseball cap he wore kept it


    mostly covered. He was a construction worker by trade and his body showed it. Nowhere near Kesler¡¯s shape, but still a form to be reckoned with.


    ¡°Nervous about what?¡± Kesler turned away from him.


    ¡°About mother showin¡¯ up.¡± Frank edged closer to him. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re finally gonna meet her. Aren¡¯t you a bit nervous?¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not fucking nervous. Why the hell should I be?¡±


    ¡°Oh, well I ain¡¯t nervous either,¡± Frank said quickly. ¡°I mean, I was just askin¡¯ if you were, you know?¡±


    The boxer ignored his statement and just shook his head slowly.


    * * *


    Devon Young watched the two men from across the interior of the warehouse. He too shook his head and leaned over to man who was leaning against the wall next to him.


    ¡°Hey, Trev,¡± he nudged him. ¡°Why the fuck is Frank always kissing Kesler¡¯s ass like that?¡±


    Trevor Ramsey leaned back over to Devon and spoke softly. ¡°He looks up to Kesler. He wants to impresses him.¡±


    ¡°Stupid ass,¡± Devon shook his head again.


    Devon Young knew Frank quite well, even before Andrea had brought them all together. In fact, she had recruited them at the same time. But in all the years he had know Frank, he had never seen him act like such a schmuck.


    ¡°God damn suck-tail.¡±


    Trevor chuckled, slightly amused by Devon¡¯s opinion of his colleague. Trevor was a slimly built man, in comparison to the two construction workers. His hair was a deep chestnut color and his eyes a light brown, the same color as his thick mustache.


    ¡°What time is it?¡± Trevor wanted to know.


    Devon looked back at him oddly. ¡°Ain¡¯t you got a watch man?¡±


    ¡°Broke it the other day going out to a fire,¡± Trevor told him. ¡°It got hitched on the side of the truck as I was getting off.¡±


    ¡°Shit man,¡± Devon consoled crudely. ¡°Life of a fireman I guess.¡±


    Trevor merely chuckled. ¡°So what time is it?¡±


    ¡°Almost twelve.¡±


    ¡°I need to be back at the station by one.¡± Trevor curled his lip in impatience. ¡°I know this is important and all, but I can¡¯t be late for duty.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Frank and I gotta be back to work by one too. Speaking of which. . .¡±


    Cupping his hands over his mouth, Devon shouted towards the Boxer and his sole adoring fan. ¡°Yo, Frank! You wanna get some food?¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± was the loud reply.


    ¡°Food!¡± he shouted. ¡°I¡¯m fuckin¡¯ hungry!¡±


    ¡°Huh? But what if she comes!¡± Frank called back.


    ¡°Hey Devon?¡± Trevor poked him. ¡°Why don¡¯t you walk over there so you guys can hear each other better, okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, good idea,¡± Devon agreed quickly and then trotted off towards Frank and Kesler.


    Trevor watched as the three of them began discussing the intricate matter of what food they would consume, as if it really mattered. He did feel a bit hungry himself, but he could wait until he went on duty, and then get something from the kitchen. He looked over to his left and saw the other three members of their group, gathered around a table placed against the back wall of the warehouse. They were eating and chatting quietly amongst themselves as they usually did.


    There was Dalton Mills, a corporate helicopter pilot employed by National Bank. He was tall and slim, almost skinny with sandy blond hair and deep green eyes, a real pretty boy. Next to him was Sonia Wilson, a high level accountant, who worked for the same bank. She was petite with long blond hair the same color as Dalton¡¯s. In fact the two of them could easily be mistaken for siblings and they even acted like it, when they weren¡¯t fighting anyway. Trevor had not spoken to Sonia often, even though she always seemed to want to talk with him. In truth, he didn¡¯t enjoy their conversations much at all. Sonia always seemed to intimidate him with her intelligence, and not to mention her glaring purple eyes.


    The last person sitting with them was Cindy, Cindy Reed. She of all the people, had to be Trevor¡¯s favorite. He was sure she was most of the guys¡¯ favorite. She was black with silky brown skin. Her hair was long and straight and cut to mold around her beautiful oval face. Her eyes were sparkling, grayish silver, which matched perfectly, with the smile she seemed to always wear. An exotic dancer who worked at the casino downtown. She was generally very friendly and easy to talk to. Although, she was a bit limited in her breath of knowledge. But then, she was less than a year old after all.


    Trevor never really liked these gatherings. He never knew which group he fit into. The others seemed to immediately associate him with Kesler and the lot due to his profession and size. But he could rarely put up with their loud mouth cursing and mundane conversations for long. Still, Trevor did not really feel comfortable around Sonia and the others either. They seemed too high class, or smart. That was the major drawback of knowing exactly what someone¡¯s occupation was, Trevor figured. He knew that their professions superseded his, and because they were all synthetic, and built for that specific purpose in mind, that they as a person superseded him. He was the odd man out, the middle class. But more than that, he differed from all of them in another respect; he was the oldest. Or at least he would be until this woman Suta arrived.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Trevor was just over seven years old. With the hazards of his job, he had seen what seemed to him, like a lifetime of horrors and tragedies. He had a different perspective altogether than the people around him. Cindy, Sonia, Kesler, none of them had been exposed to anything even close to the things he had endured. They had relatively safe, uneventful lives. He wondered why they were even here at all sometimes. He knew he would be content with any of their lives, in exchange for his own. But this woman Suta, she would understand. She was a soldier and had been to war, probably experienced things much worse than he had. Not only that, but she was old, much older than himself.


    He was sure he could fit in with her. Trevor was looking forward to meeting her.


    Time passed and Trevor finally grew tired of standing alone. He decided to walk over towards Cindy and the others, and perhaps join in their conversation. As he approached, the cheerful dancer smiled up at him and waved.


    ¡°Hey Trev,¡± she patted on the bench. ¡°Come have a seat next to me.¡±


    ¡°Hello, all.¡± Trevor smiled at the rest of the table and sat beside Cindy.


    ¡°Glad you to joined us, Trevor,¡± Sonia returned his smile and gave him an awkward stare with her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t mind Dalton and I, we¡¯re just chatting.¡±


    Dalton then waved to him casually, and continued his conversation with Sonia.


    ¡°So how are you, Cindy?¡± Trevor patted her lightly on the knee.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing good,¡± she turned to face him. ¡°I¡¯m so excited.¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± She giggled slightly. ¡°I can¡¯t believe we are going to finally meet her in person.¡±


    Trevor only nodded. ¡°You seem excited that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°Do you think she¡¯ll like me?¡± Cindy asked him with imploring eyes.


    ¡°Of course, who couldn¡¯t like you?¡± Trevor stroked her cheek gently causing her to giggle even more.


    ¡°You spoil me, Trev.¡± she grinned at him. ¡°Going to give me an ego you are.¡±


    Trevor laughed.


    ¡°What is so funny, Trevor?¡± Sonia suddenly asked, staring at him again.


    Trevor wasn¡¯t even aware Sonia had been listening. ¡°Nothing, Cindy and I were just talking.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± was her only reply.


    Trevor saw the opportunity to find out a little more about the two people he seemed to know the least about. He decided to probe a little bit.


    ¡°So what do you two think about everything that¡¯s going on?¡± he posed the question directly towards Sonia and Dalton.


    They responded with confused expressions on their faces.


    ¡°About what exactly?¡± Dalton tried to confirm his question.


    ¡°About Mother and what might happen in the future,¡± Trevor said. ¡°Have you thought about any of that?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Sonia cocked her head. ¡°Do you mean What she is going to think of us?¡±


    ¡°I certainly have thought about that,¡± Dalton remarked quickly. ¡°Personally I think she will be very pleased with the four of us, but I don¡¯t know about Frank, Devon and especially Kesler.¡±


    ¡°Kesler isn¡¯t much of a team player.¡± Sonia rapped her fingers on the table. ¡°And the others aren¡¯t well. .. They aren¡¯t really that proficient in anything useful.¡±


    Trevor was taken off guard by their responses. He could tell that if he were not in their presence at the time, he too would be grouped with Kesler and the others by their high personal standards. It shocked him how much prejudice existed even within their own culture, within their own little group even. He began to have serious doubts as to whether they could ever accomplish equal rights among humans, if they could not even find equality amongst themselves.


    ¡°Actually,¡± Trevor took a deep breath. ¡°I was not even referring to that at all.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± said Sonia. ¡°What were you trying to get at then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about sacrifice,¡± Trevor said coldly. ¡°Like the one Alex made trying to get Mother here. Would you be willing to make the same sort?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Dalton answered quickly.


    Sonia nodded in agreement. ¡°I know I would.¡±


    Trevor scoffed inwardly at their responses. ¡°And how do you know, Sonia¡®? How do you know that you would if the situation came to be? Have you ever had to make the choice of sacrificing yourself to save another before?¡±


    There was a sudden uneasy pause. Trevor could feel the disturbance he had caused within their group, and he liked it.


    ¡°Well I-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done it lots of times,¡± Trevor cut Sonia off. ¡°And Alex, Devon, Frank. They all put their lives on the line every day, working hazardous conditions no human ever would, just to get a building built in half the time as normal. And all for a fifth of the money you and Dalton are pulling in every year. They know what it means to be oppressed. They know what it is to be forced to sacrifice. Now if they do that, I know those guys would be more than willing to lay down their lives for something that they themselves, actually believed in. I think you are wrong. I think you¡¯re the ones Mother is going to be most disappointed in. Not them.¡±


    Rising from his seat sharply, he glared them straight in the eye. Maybe he wasn¡¯t exactly like the construction workers he just spoke of, but he could surely understand them more than he could the people in front of him now. He looked over to Cindy. He felt a little bad as he saw the shock in her eyes. He didn¡¯t mean for what he was saying to be directed towards her, but in some ways, it did apply to her as well. Trevor walked away from the table and headed back to the wall he was leaning against earlier. Solitude seemed to be the group that he fit into most.


    Trevor heard garage door to the warehouse opening. He stopped and saw Andrea¡¯s car waiting outside as the paneled door slid slowly upwards. Changing his direction, he walked towards the door just as the car slide through the opening. He could see the others rise from their seats and begin approaching.


    By the looks on their faces, it seemed as if a messiah had arrived. Even Kesler¡¯s stem bottom lip had dropped somewhat in anxious anticipation. Trevor could not deny that he too was curious about meeting Mother, but his real interest lay in Suta.


    The car pulled to a stop and Andrea quickly exited from behind the wheel. She smiled at them warmly, as she always did, but said nothing. Instead, she proceeded around the car and opened the passenger side.


    From underneath the door, Trevor saw a slender metallic foot, step out onto the concrete. Then slowly, a small figure rose from out of the passenger seat. It was a woman, or maybe a girl. Or at least it looked somewhat female. Through the long silvery hair that hung loosely from its head, Trevor saw a slender face of pure blue metal. It looked like a mannequin. Was this Mother?


    Andrea led the small figure around the front of the car and towards the rest of the group, who were as dumbfounded as Trevor was. He then saw the rear door of the car open and a dark haired woman stepped out. She was medium height and wore a cloak of some kind. Her face was attractive, as were her eyes. Trevor could see that she was bewildered at the group of people staring back at her.


    ¡°Everyone,¡± Andrea finally spoke. ¡°This is our Mother.¡±


    There was a deadly silence. No one had expected her to look like she did. Trevor found it hard to fit the image he had seen of her, into the strange metallic form that now stood beside Andrea. It was almost shocking.


    Suddenly, Cindy stepped forward.


    The form that was Mother looked towards her.


    ¡°It is alright, Cindy,¡± it spoke in an odd yet familiar voice. ¡°It is me.¡±


    Cindy stepped closer and Mother held her arms aloft.


    The young dancer smiled and blushed slightly, but continued forward and embraced the tiny figure within her arms. And then she smiled.


    Almost at once, the others flocked towards her in a massive herd. They called her name reverently, Mother, Mother as they each waited their turn to touch the being that had brought them to this point in their lives. Smiles were displayed on their faces as they embraced her, telling her how glad they were that she was now here.


    Once again, Trevor found himself on the outside. He stood alone, keeping himself away from the warm gestures and greetings, that seemed all too practiced and forced. He looked over them and saw the woman in the cloak, staring at them as vacantly as he was.


    Stepping around the crowd, he approached her. She did not notice him coming until the last minute, and she turned her head with a look of both surprise and relief.


    ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t mean to scare you,¡± he outstretched his hand in greeting. ¡°I¡¯m Trevor Ramsey.¡±


    She shook it very firmly. ¡°Barro Suta.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about you,¡± Trevor smiled. ¡°I¡¯ve actually been quite looking forward to meeting you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m flattered,¡± Barro returned his smile sheepishly. ¡°Though I can¡¯t really say that


    I¡¯ve heard much about you, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Trevor chuckled. ¡°I guess I¡¯m not one of the big attractions around here.¡± He then jerked his head towards the virtual mob surrounding Mother and Andrea.


    Barro stared at them as well, a blank expression on her face. ¡°Looks like I¡¯m not one either.¡±


    Trevor beamed at the woman named Suta, who returned his smile with a gentle laugh.


    He liked her immediately.

 Chapter 13: Civil Disturbance

    Michael Webber paused in front of Lieutenant Lisa Petty¡¯s door.


    He began to ponder if he should even knock. Webber had found some information regarding the case, but wasn¡¯t sure whether it was actually relevant to the investigation at all. But he needed to tell someone before he went any further with it; he didn¡¯t want to waste time on something that would prove fruitless. He decided seeing Lisa was necessary, to either support him in his theory or make him realize that it was wrong.


    He rose his fist to knock on the door and then suddenly it swung inward. Webber was shocked to see Lieutenant Petty standing before him, dressed in a pair of camouflage fatigues and her hair tied back. He was taken off guard by her sudden appearance, unable to speak. She ignored his muteness nonetheless, waving him into her quarters with a distracted yawn.


    ¡°You, ah. . .¡± Webber closed the door behind him still trying to figure out what to say.


    ¡°Were you sleeping or something?¡±


    ¡°I wish,¡± Lisa said still yawning. ¡°I was looking over the individual reports of my squad again.¡±


    ¡°Find anything?¡±


    ¡°Nothing new,¡± she dropped onto her bunk. ¡°The most we have is that we know they managed to land the plane safely before it caught fire. Which means they are still out there somewhere. The only other thing we got is the construction cyberoid we found attacking those CDI agents.¡±


    ¡°Found anything on that?¡±


    ¡°Still waiting,¡± she said. ¡°He didn¡¯t have any identification on him. But I ran those serial numbers like you suggested. l¡¯m waiting for a reply from Genesis Corporation now. ¡¯


    ¡°Yeah a check like will take some time.¡±


    ¡°So what brings you here, doctor?¡± Petty leaned back onto her bed.


    ¡°Well...¡± Webber tried to think of the best way to tell her what he had found. ¡°I was going to go snooping in the computer system and look for some clues. Wondered if you wanted to come along.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± she replied with a shrug. ¡°Let me just grab a few things.¡±


    Webber nodded and waited several minutes while the Lieutenant paced around her room, collecting various items and stuffing them into a black leather satchel. She then signaled to Webber that she was ready and ushered him through the door towards the elevator.


    The room housing the computer bank was not far from where they were. Only three floors down in fact. Webber followed the Lieutenant to wait for the elevator and stepped inside when it finally arrived. He pressed for the second sub level. The doors slid shut and the lift began to move.


    For some reason, Webber always felt he had to say something when he rode in an elevator with someone else. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of being confined in such a small area, or perhaps it was just a bad habit.


    ¡°How do you rate the investigation so far?¡± Webber turned towards her.


    The Lieutenant paused in thought for a moment before responding.


    ¡°Pretty slow I think,¡± she said finally. ¡°Worse than that actually. It¡¯s more like dead.¡±


    ¡°Dead? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that bad.¡±


    ¡°Open your eyes, Webber,¡± she glanced at him. ¡°It¡¯s been almost five days since the incident and we have no real leads to speak of. Not to mention that the Brass don¡¯t really seem that interested in this investigation at all.¡±


    Her statement surprised him. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Think about it,¡± Petty said. ¡°This was a top secret project that got lifted right in front of their eyes. If this android, or whatever it is, was so important to them, then don¡¯t you think they would have done more than put an engineer, and a rookie intelligence agent in charge of retrieving it?¡±


    It did kind of make sense. ¡°So what are you trying to say? They don¡¯t really want it back?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure they would, if they saw it as an actual risk.¡± Lisa then turned to him.


    ¡°Trust me, if they knew that there was a possibility it could fall into the hands of terrorists or another government, they would have contacted CDI.¡±


    ¡°CDI?¡± Webber rubbed his chin. ¡°But I thought they made it clear they did not want to involve them for security reasons.¡±


    ¡°That was a bunch of bull,¡± the Lieutenant replied. ¡°If this thing were that serious they would have to contracted CDI for the investigation. I¡¯ve seen them work before. In fact, most of my experience has been working with them.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve worked with them before?¡± Webber was puzzled. ¡°So you knew those agents?¡±


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t worked with this particular branch, but back in Washington yes. I can¡¯t believe that they wouldn¡¯t call them in on a case like this.¡±


    ¡°So you think there is a reason for that?¡±


    The elevator stopped and they promptly walked out and headed for the computer room.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what kind of reason there could be,¡± she moved briskly along side of him. ¡°But it certainly is very weird.¡±


    Webber nodded. The Lieutenant seemed far more aware of things than he realized. He had not given her enough credit it seemed. He thought the investigation was moving slowly due to her inexperience, or lack of skills. He could not have imagined it was because she was reluctant to do a job that she felt no one wanted her to do. Webber was definitely the inexperienced one in this matter.


    ¡°Should we tell someone?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Tell who? We had two top admirals arrive in less than a day. Which was also a little weird.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°They were here a little too quickly I think.¡±


    ¡°Too quickly?¡± Webber was beginning to piece things together for himself. ¡°You think that this might be some kind of conspiracy? Like they knew it was going to happen?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying anything,¡± she raised her hands in denial. ¡°But just from my experience, it would take a major crisis to pull Admiral Quinnly and Admiral Jameson all the way across the country. And for them to arrive in the time that they did. I just don¡¯t know about the whole thing.¡±


    They finally arrived at the computer center. It was a relatively small room, with about twenty terminals set alongside the walls. Each terminal was concealed from its neighbor with a tall panel, giving the user privacy. In the center of the room stood the bank of servers and workstations that connected the base to the outside world.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Webber picked the closest terminal and took a seat in front of it. Drawing its attention with a punch of the return key, he opened into his account. Petty withdrew a chair from another terminal, and took a seat next to him.


    ¡°So what are we looking for in here?¡± she peered at the screen.


    ¡°Just going to go through the logs and retrace what happened that night.¡± Webber typed rapidly on the keyboard and accessed the information he required.


    ¡°So what do you think actually happened?¡±


    ¡°You mean about your conspiracy theory?¡± Webber glanced over at her. ¡°No not that,¡± she squinted. ¡°The night of the incident. What happened in there? How did the body manage to talk like you said?¡±


    Webber sighed. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to figure out now. I was looking into that client theory.¡±


    ¡°And what exactly is that?¡±


    ¡°Well...¡± Webber stopped and thought for a moment. ¡°You know, it was actually Admiral Quinnly who suggested that a client might have been used in the first place. You don¡¯t think he might have been trying to lead us in a false direction do you?¡±


    ¡°Will you stop trying to play detective,¡± Lisa sighed. ¡°You¡¯re getting hung up on this conspiracy thing too much, just forget it. Now tell me who you mean by this client.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± Webber could not help but feel a little disheartened by his idea being shot down so quickly. ¡°A client is basically an interface between the hardware of the body and the user. We do actually have one; it¡¯s used for testing. A person would basically connect to the android¡¯s cyberbrain neurally, just as if it were a computer and they would be set in a virtual environment. The client would then translate the persons virtual movements into commands to operate the android hardware.¡±


    ¡°So you think Commander Suta did that?¡±


    ¡°That would explain the events that took place,¡± he entered a few more commands into the terminal. ¡°But I doubt it was as simple as that. One, whatever downloaded into the android didn¡¯t look like some kind of client program, and if it was, why not just use ours? Two, I didn¡¯t see Suta attached to the body, though I suppose she could have been using wireless inputs. But most of all, what really freaked me about the whole thing was the-¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t know quite how to phrase what he was going to say next.


    ¡°Was what?¡± Lisa prompted.


    ¡°I said in my report that it spoke, right?¡± he continued. ¡°But it did more than that. It was actually talking.¡±


    ¡°Talk, speak what¡¯s the difference?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Webber tried to explain. ¡°It was talking to Suta like a person. I know there are


    AI programs in development that could possibly control the android body, and maybe even say a few phrases. But to be able to hold a conversation like it did. That was unreal.¡±


    ¡°So it had to have been a real person controlling it remotely,¡± Lisa concluded.


    ¡°Right?¡±


    Webber didn¡¯t say anything. Someone controlling the body would be the simple answer to everything. But he knew there was a slim chance of that, not with the way things had happened that night.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so,¡± Webber said finally.


    ¡°Then what?¡±


    ¡°There is something else.¡± Webber tapped on the keyboard. ¡°Something I didn¡¯t mention in my report.¡±


    The Lieutenant arched an eyebrow. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°The voice.¡± Webber shifted his eyes to her. ¡°I knew the voice.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°The voice the thing spoke in,¡± Webber began gesturing with his hands, trying to describe it. ¡°I had heard it before.¡±


    ¡°So, you knew the person then?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Webber sighed. ¡°This is going to be hard to explain. Let me show you something.¡±


    Webber again began typing upon the keyboard. ¡°That voice was hounding me all night last night. It was so distinct, I knew I had heard it before. But I just couldn¡¯t remember where.¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡± Lisa watched warily as he typed a few more commands into the terminal and then a list popped onto the screen.


    ¡°This is a log of Commander Suta¡¯s terminal.¡± Webber then pointed to the screen.


    ¡°See this?¡±


    Tty12.l0g: Tue May 17 2047 21:25:34 connect cray17.satnet.g0v


    ¡°Yeah, so what is it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the address Commander Suta connected to right before the incident.¡±


    ¡°A government satellite?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he nodded.


    ¡°So what is there?¡±


    Webber gestured to the screen. Slowly a medical crest began to materialize over a deep blue background. Then over it a list of words appeared in bold lettering.


    Lisa peered at the screen and read the title aloud. ¡°Matemal oriented training host for empathic response? What the hell is that?¡±


    ¡°Mother,¡± Webber said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an acronym for what you just read.¡± Webber pointed out the first letter of each


    word. ¡°M-O-T-H-E-R.¡±


    Lisa stared blankly at the professor. ¡°Sorry, I still don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Alright, around the tum of the century when the first generation of synthetics were being created, there was one major problem. They were constantly plagued with syndromes of psychosis, which took effect in less than a month after construction.


    Engineers finally figured out that it was the lack of basic social rules and human interaction, which was causing the problem. They had no way to react to people or social situations. To try to solve this, the second-generation of synthetics were implanted with childhood memories, and were made to believe that they were human. This worked better than the previous generation, but after a few years, second generations started to go berserk as well.¡±


    ¡°l remember learning about that.¡± Petty ran a finger over her bottom lip. ¡°Something about them realizing they weren¡¯t really human?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Webber said. ¡°The memories simply wore off after a while, or the synthetic was able to find some flaw, or contradiction, that proved the memories false. After that, the secretary of health pushed for research into the area. What they came up with was similar to the second-generation solution. The synthetics would be implanted with childhood memories, but they would be their own.¡±


    ¡°What? Cyberoids have a childhood?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Webber stated flatly. ¡°And what is more, they are taught exactly what they are, and how to interact with other people.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Lisa was confused. ¡°There are little cyberoid kids running around somewhere?¡±


    Webber laughed when he saw how serious she was.


    ¡°No,¡± he said still laughing. ¡°Nothing like that. While the synthetic is in a state of hyper-induced growth, their brains are plunged into a completely virtual environment.


    While in that environment they grow at what seems to them a normal childhood pace.


    Ranging basically to the age of eighteen. After they come out of this childhood, it is suppressed into the deep subconscious. The lessons they learned from it are still there, but just not accessible on a conscious level. Sorta how you can¡¯t remember how you learned to walk or what your first word was.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Lisa nodded. ¡°That¡¯s pretty interesting.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is,¡± he smiled. ¡°Anyway, in 2011 they created a program which could do all this. The engineers who wrote it called it MOTHER. Suiting enough I guess. At first it was used locally by private corporations. But the program and the hardware it needed to run on was expensive as hell. Lots of companies were still producing second-generation synthetics, which became illegal about a year later. Anyway, smaller companies kicked up that the corporations that could afford the MOTHER programming were forcing them out of business. With that, and the mass of illegal second-generation synthetics flooding the black market, congress took control of the MOTHER program and stationed it on a government satellite, allowing free access to the program via uplinks. Basically, all manufacturers have to do now is connect their synthetics directly to that satellite for a month and they¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s where we are now?¡± Lisa pointed to the screen.


    ¡°Yup.¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡± Lisa leaned back in her chair slowly. ¡°So what does this have to do with Commander Suta and the android?¡±


    ¡°I think that the information that was downloaded into the android brain was this program.¡± Lisa didn¡¯t say anything, but merely stared at him oddly.


    ¡°Well maybe it Was,¡± Petty finally shrugged. ¡°But could this mother thing control the body? I mean it is just a program right? Maybe Suta was just copying it or something.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Webber shook his head. ¡°I really think that this program is inside that body and is what was talking that night.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound creepy, Webber,¡± Lisa frowned at him.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± he said loudly. ¡°I¡¯m almost positive it is!¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Lisa conceded, agreeing with him finally. ¡°Now assuming that it was the Mother program that was downloaded into the body, how do you know it was the program making it talk? I mean, you said that anyone could connect to that satellite, right? Maybe a hacker was connected to it and was simply using it as a route to the android, once Suta connected to it from down here.¡±


    Her statement had some substance. He hadn¡¯t thought of that scenario. She could indeed be right, but Webber couldn¡¯t shake his gut feeling. He knew it was the program itself, not some hacker.


    ¡°You know how I know it was the program?¡± Webber typed on the keyboard.


    ¡°How?¡±


    Webber made a final keystroke and the terminal screen faded to black. Suddenly the face of a woman appeared on the screen. She was matured with shortly cut black hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her face was gentle and soothing, and glowed warmly as she smiled.


    ¡°Hello, you¡¯ve reached Crayl7.satnet.gov,¡± she said sweetly. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to have a visual interface. Please just type to communicate, alright?¡±


    Webber looked over to the Lieutenant, whose eyes were transfixed by the woman on the screen.


    ¡°Hello,¡± the woman said again. ¡°This is Crayl7.satnet.gov is anyone there?¡±


    ¡°I know it was this program,¡± Webber ran a hand through his hair. ¡°Because this is the voice I heard that night.¡±

 Chapter 14

    The Bay of Cronus City was one of the finest sights in the world. Spanning a gap of nearly forty kilometers between the West Coast of California, and the city center, it was a drag net hung in the edge of the Pacific Ocean. A myriad of vessels cut their wake on its crystal blue surface each day. Heavy container liners, porting naval ships, even personal pleasure craft were all seen atop the Bay¡¯s waters. Though it was called a Bay, technically it was more of a channel. The forty or so causeways that connected the former Santa Catalina Island to the mainland, formed flat calms of water between their massive lengths, while still allowing the natural currents of the ocean to flow underneath their spans.


    The warm water and the large number of sunken structures formed the perfect environment for marine life. Within the waters of the bay, fish and other wild life flourished, making Cronus City one of the largest sources of seafood in the world.


    Along the great bridges, many restaurants thrived, selling the freshly caught produce to customers hungry for the taste of the sea. From high-class sushi bars to the stomach filling satisfaction of raw bars, the dining area of the bay was a virtual smorgasbord of seafood, dependent only upon the price one wished to pay. Eric Corbin was seated on the outside deck of one of the classier seafood outlets. The Bayside Lobster House was normally a place of expensive dining, but during the lunch hours their prices were fair and the standard of their food did not drop too much. He took a sip of his drink, a cool blend of fruit juices, coconut rum and a touch of melon liquor. It ran soothingly down his throat, bringing an involuntary smile to his face.


    He gazed over the pristine clarity of the bay and admired its deep-blueness as it mirrored the near cloudless sky. It was a beautiful day. Eric was glad he had decided to ride instead of taking the car. He sat up in his chair a bit, and peered over the railing to catch a glimpse of his motorcycle parked below, making sure it was still there. He knew he was being paranoid, especially since he was in one of the most crime free areas in the entire city. But considering he had invested quite a bit of money in modifications for it, it was certainly a possession worth worrying about.


    ¡°Hey there.¡± a soft feminine voice caught his attention.


    Turning his head away from his bike, Eric saw a tall attractive woman standing next to him. She was in her late twenties with a athletic figure tucked into a pair of tight blue jeans and a green tank top. Her skin was a soft brownish orange and tattooed with tiger like stripes along the sides of her body from her shoulders to the top of her calves. Her auburn hair was grown long and hung thickly framing a face that was vividly alluring, with high set cheekbones, large pouting lips and eyes the color of crystal jade that sparkled lightly as she smiled.


    Eric smiled back at her.


    She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. ¡°Nice to see you¡¯re actually on time for a change.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m never late, Vanessa,¡± Eric grinned at his fianc¨¦e as she pulled away. ¡°You¡¯re just always too early.¡±


    Vanessa chuckled, shaking her head as she took her seat opposite him. ¡°So have your ordered yet?¡±


    ¡°Ordered? How am I supposed to know what you want?¡±


    She sighed at him playfully. ¡°You know all I come here for is the shrimp, silly.¡±


    ¡°Oh is that right?¡± Eric laughed. ¡°And I bet if I would have ordered them, you would have wanted something else.¡±


    Vanessa giggled. ¡°Well, maybe.¡±


    ¡°So how¡¯s your day going?¡± Eric leaned across the table towards her.


    ¡°Oh really good actually.¡± she nodded with a smile.


    ¡°Really?¡± Eric implored.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± excitement suddenly filled her voice. ¡°We found a label that is really interested in producing an album with us.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great, sweetie.¡± Eric shared her enthusiasm. ¡°So which label?¡±


    ¡°Here.¡± She opened her purse and pulled out a small plastic card. ¡°It¡¯s called Edgeway Records. It¡¯s not big or anything but if we can get an album out that would be great.¡±


    Eric nodded receiving the card from her. ¡°So does it look like a good deal?¡±


    ¡°Our lawyer is still looking it over.¡± she said, ¡°We¡¯re hoping for maybe a ten percent cut of sales.¡±


    Eric was not very familiar with the standards of the music industry. ¡°Is that good?¡±


    Vanessa nodded at him. ¡°That¡¯s very good for a first album.¡±


    ¡°Well great then,¡± Eric smiled again. He was always supportive of her career, but felt a bit guilty about not being more involved. He wanted to seem enthusiastic about it and he was indeed interested, but music just wasn¡¯t his forte.


    A chubby Italian waiter suddenly arrived at their table and smiled towards Vanessa.


    ¡°Can I get you something to drink, miss?¡±


    ¡°Yes, ah...¡± Vanessa looked over at Eric¡¯s drink. ¡°I¡¯ll have what he¡¯s having.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± He tapped quickly on his electronic note pad. ¡°Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?¡±


    Eric looked to his fianc¨¦ who responded with a nod.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re ready.¡± He then briefly looked over the menu. ¡°I¡¯ll have the double stuffed lobster tail and she¡¯ll have the shrimp combo platter.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± the waiter said scribbling some more. ¡°And what choice of shrimp would you like?¡±


    Eric thought for a bit, trying to read his fianc¨¦¡¯s mind. ¡°Half beer batter and half scampi.¡±


    ¡°Very good then,¡± he collected their menus. ¡°I¡¯ll have your drink in just a minute.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Eric said to him, and the waiter turned and walked back into the dining room.


    Vanessa started grinning. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you remembered.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not just a pretty face, you know?¡± He gave her a wink and smile.


    A ringtone sounded and Eric felt a vibration against his hip. He saw the smile drop from Vanessa¡¯s face almost immediately. She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair with an indignant pout on her lips.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°The office.¡± Vanessa stated.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± He rose from his seat. ¡°And relax, it¡¯s probably nothing.¡±


    She didn¡¯t say anything, but Eric could tell she was annoyed by the interruption. He swore she hated his job more than he did. Leaving the deck, he walked inside and found small private area near the restrooms before he answered.


    ¡°Mandy,¡± Eric spoke into the phone, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Hi, Sir.¡± she said, ¡°Lance called me and told me to patch you through to him.¡±


    ¡°Patch me through? Where is he?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Mandy told him. ¡°Just hold on though, okay? He said it was urgent.¡±


    Shade didn¡¯t like the sound of that. ¡°All right.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± she said once more. There was then a pause and another click, followed by a garbled squelch of static.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Eric said.


    ¡°Major?¡± Shade heard Lance¡¯s voice come through the phone somewhat distorted.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°There is a bank robbery in progress in the northern corporate district,¡± his subordinate informed. ¡°CCPD has requested CDI backup.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Eric leaned against the wall. ¡°So why the hell are you calling me?¡±


    ¡°We need a senior officer on the scene,¡± Lance conveyed. ¡°Right now it¡¯s just me, Lieutenant Ahn and one of her squads.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m kind of in the middle of something, Lance. Get someone else.¡±


    ¡°I already tried,¡± Lance told him. ¡°Lieutenant Colonel Doris is out and Colonel Drake is still in Seattle. You¡¯re pretty much the only one left.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s out?¡± Eric grew agitated. ¡°Where the hell has she gone? She¡¯s supposed to be the principle officer today.¡±


    ¡°A big sting she has been working on suddenly went active,¡± Lance said. ¡°She grabbed two squads from the Anti Terrorist Unit and headed out an hour ago.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± Eric cursed. ¡°What about Colonel Brontes?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just in charge of ATU training,¡± Lance said. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have the proper jurisdiction.¡±


    Eric grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s times like this I wish you were a fucking Captain, Lance.¡±


    ¡°Just be sure you mention that next time the review board comes around,¡± Lance chuckled. He then asked him once more. ¡°So are you coming?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Eric sighed reluctantly. ¡°Give me the details.¡±


    ¡°Three armed men stormed the Tri Union Bank up on one hundred twenty-third street


    A teller managed to trip the silent alarm and the cops showed up. That was forty minutes ago. Now they¡¯ve in a stalemate.¡±


    ¡°So why don¡¯t they just call SWAT?¡±


    ¡°The officer in charge said that the perpetrators have been threatening the hostages, and have made some demands, so technically it is an act of terrorism,¡± Lance said. ¡°That basically falls into our category.¡±


    ¡°Vanessa is going to be pissed,¡± Eric muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± Lance¡¯s voice broke up a little bit in the static.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± he switched the receiver to his other ear. ¡°I¡¯m on my way, where exactly are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m en route now,¡± Lance told him. ¡°ETA two minutes. What about you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m at the far end of Emerson causeway.¡± Eric roughly calculated the distance between himself and the bank. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in about ten minutes.¡±


    ¡°Ten minutes?¡± Lance echoed skeptically. ¡°You¡¯re like forty kilometers away.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Shade said. ¡°I¡¯ll see you there.¡±


    He hung up the phone.


    Zipping his leather jacket, he walked out the door and headed back towards the deck.


    Vanessa looked up from the table at him as he approached. He could see the annoyed expression on her face. He tried to think of some nice way to tell her he had to leave, but couldn¡¯t. Apologies and promises of him making it up to her had run out long ago.


    ¡°I have to leave,¡± he said plainly.


    Vanessa sighed deeply and tossed her napkin onto the table. ¡°What else is new.¡±


    Eric took sudden offense. It wasn¡¯t his fault. ¡°Hey this is my job, okay?¡±


    Rising from the table, she collected her keys from her purse. ¡°And this is supposed to be a relationship.¡±


    ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡± Eric really didn¡¯t need this right now.


    ¡°That being with me is such a burden for you.¡±


    Eric felt uneasy as she raised her voice. ¡°Look, this isn¡¯t the time or place, Vanessa.¡±


    ¡°Then when is?¡± she blurted. ¡°During the day when you¡¯re gone? Or maybe later when you¡¯re out till all hours of the night? When is a good time for you, Eric?¡±


    ¡°Hey, wait a minute.¡± Eric matched her indingnant tone, ¡°You work late nights too alright? There are plenty of nights when I¡¯m home and you are out singing.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you come down to the club to see me?¡± she rested her hand on her hip, ¡°Like you used to. Remember?¡±


    ¡°Look, Vanessa, I don¡¯t have time to do-¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± she cut him off, ¡°You just don¡¯t have the time.¡±


    Turning abruptly from him, she stalked towards the door.


    ¡°Fuck.¡± Eric cursed to himself quietly. He looked down at the empty table, with the two half finished drinks sitting upon it. Eric saw the waiter and called to him. He hurried over and stood with an imploring expression.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Eric pulled his wallet from his pocket. ¡°We won¡¯t be staying for lunch.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ve already ordered,¡± the waiter said a bit warily.


    ¡°Here.¡± Eric went through his wallet and handed the waiter a fifty-dollar bill. ¡°You eat


    it or something.¡±


    Shade didn¡¯t wait to hear his response. Still agitated, he strode towards the railing of the deck and vaulted over it, dropping down the side of the one story building and landing heavily to his feet. Breaking the fall with a bend of his knees, he rose up from his crouched position and then walked towards his motorcycle.


    He freed the full-faced helmet that was locked to the side of his vehicle, and pushed the key into the ignition. Fastening the helmet over his head, he saw Vanessa pulling away in her car. She never seemed to understand. She was right about spending time together, but the circumstances were out of his hands. He had responsibilities.


    Frustrated, he swung his leg over the saddle and pressed the starter. With a tiny electric whir, the engine roared to life with a sharp metallic exhaust note.


    The restaurant was located right on the edge of the road, and its exit led directly to the three-lane expressway that crossed the causeway. Looking behind him, he eyed the traffic heading towards the city. He waited for a small gap in the moderate flow of vehicles, and then revved the engine, launching the bike onto the roadway with a massive jerk.


    Eric leaned as the front wheel rose involuntarily upward with the onslaught of power.


    The wheel remained in the air as Eric flew by three cars on his left. Bypassing the clutch, he toed the gear shifter directly into second.


    The bike lurched under him, keeping the front wheel aloft with the new supply of torque. Second gear burnt out and Eric speed shifted to third, dropping the bike heavily onto its front tire. He peered down at his speedometer and saw it read just over 180 kilometers per hour. His lips formed a smile beneath the cover of his helmet. Shade was please with the bike¡¯s acceleration.


    The road was clear ahead of him and Eric pressed on. He shifted into fourth then fifth.


    The air rushing against him forced his body to streamline against the large gas tank. He saw the entrance of the causeway approaching madly. Holding the throttle tight, he slammed his bike into top gear and was thrown slightly off the ground as his motorcycle leapt onto the smooth-paved concrete of the causeway.


    Eric couldn¡¯t hear the engine anymore; only the hurricane sound of the rushing air.


    The wind pressed against his visor, threatening to tear his head from his body as the vast blue expanse of the bay whistled by him on either side. He dared to look down at his instruments again. His turbo read two bars of positive boost, and his speedometer slowly crept past 310 kilometers per hour.


    He was near maximum velocity. All concentration was now focused on one thing; keeping himself alive at the break-neck speed he was travelling. One gust of wind, or slow-moving car could mean a death so quick he would barely have a chance to experience it. Eric didn¡¯t keep track of time any longer, he merely watched as the forty odd kilometers of causeway were slowly eaten up as he barreled full bore down the concrete roadway. Cars and trucks flashed by as if travelling in the opposite direction. He held his speed tight and finally let up as the exit to the causeway rushed imminently towards him.


    Gritting his teeth, Eric sat up in the saddle. The force of the rushing air blasted against his body, causing the bike to decelerate with its resistance. He applied the front breaks lightly and then dropped back a few gears, slowing the bike even further.


    The exit to the causeway flew past as he rounded a comer and entered onto the grid like surface streets of the city. Speeding past the long lines of traffic in front of him, Eric rode ahead and finally pulled his motorcycle to a halt at the glare of a red traffic light. Eric breathed in deeply; coming suddenly out of the Zen like state the high-speed transit had placed him into. His heart was still racing, and he felt his innards being squeezed by the tense anxiety in his muscles. It wasn¡¯t often he got the chance to top out his bike like that. It was dangerous, but it had served its purpose. Eric had released every drop of anger and frustration his argument with Vanessa had built up inside of him. The worse thing that he could have done was to head into the hostage situation with personal problems on his mind.


    People could get killed that way.

 Chapter 15

    The light changed and Eric stomped into gear. The bank was not far from where he was, only two blocks away. Picking around the lunch hour rush, Eric worked through the city streets in a jerky pattern of accelerations and decelerations.


    The traffic abruptly began to thicken. Eric slowed and rose off his saddle slightly to peer down to the end of the street. Flashing blue lights swirled atop three cars that were blocking off the road. Hauling his bike onto the sidewalk, he rolled slowly to the end of the block, ignoring the shouts of pedestrians as he sounded his horn for them to move out of his way.


    He came to a stop as he reached the police barricade. Several officers were standing


    beside their cars; their backs turned towards him. Eric throttled his bike loudly in neutral to get their attention.


    One of them abruptly turned at the noise. With a scowling face he strode towards Eric.


    ¡°You can¡¯t get through here, go around!¡±


    The Major flicked open his visor and raised the back of his hand to the cop. ¡°CD1, let me through.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he walked closer.


    ¡°I¡¯m with Civil Defense!¡± Eric shouted over the idle of his engine. ¡°Let me through.¡±


    The policeman studied the back of Eric¡¯s fist for a moment, and then nodded. ¡°Hold on l¡¯ll move the car.¡±


    ¡°No need.¡±


    With a slip of the clutch, Eric rolled the bike smoothly through the small gap between the cars. He spotted an Armored Personnel Carrier, dressed in urban camouflage and painted with the letters C-D-I on its side. Eric cruised towards it and cut the engine before rolling to a stop just in front of the vehicle.


    He dismounted and saw a woman dressed in light body armor step out from behind the APC. She was Asian; in her mid twenties, with short cut black hair and wide curious brown eyes. She smiled as she caught sight of him.


    ¡°Major Corbin,¡± she saluted.


    ¡°Hey Ahn,¡± Eric returned the salute. ¡°Where¡¯s Lance?¡±


    Locking his helmet to the side of his bike, he unzipped his jacket a bit and headed towards the young Lieutenant.


    ¡°He¡¯s talking with the police,¡± she pointed in a general direction. ¡°Just follow me,


    Sir.¡±


    She led the way, walking back behind the APC. Shade followed her, looking about for the bank. As he rounded the vehicle, a group of soldiers dressed in camouflage suddenly scrambled to attention, and saluted him.


    ¡°Major,¡± they all chimed at different times.


    ¡°As you were,¡± he told them with a brief salute.


    They were a young squad. Eric didn¡¯t know many of them, but by the way they reacted to his arrival, he could tell that they were still pretty green. It figured this would be the squad left over after Doris got her pick of the muscle.


    Ahead, he saw a police van with its side door open. A group of three policemen dressed in civilian clothing were gathered around a set of monitors protruding through the side of the van. Eric spotted Lance conversing with one of them.


    ¡°Who is in charge, Ahn?¡±


    ¡°A captain Hollis,¡± she said. Ahn then leaned over to him. ¡°He¡¯s the black guy with


    the mustache.¡±


    ¡°Seen,¡± Eric nodded.


    ¡°Captain Hollis,¡± Ahn announced their arrival aloud. ¡°Major Corbin is here.¡±


    Hollis turned his attention away from the monitors. He was a middle-aged man with a deep receding hairline, wearing a cheap looking brown suit, covered by a light armored vest. He turned fully and held his hand outward.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Major.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± Eric shook his hand. ¡°What¡¯s the situation now?¡±


    ¡°Come have a look,¡± Hollis gestured towards the monitors.


    Eric saw what looked to be the interior of the bank.


    ¡°We got a feed from the security cameras inside. These are the assailants here.¡± Hollis pointed out three men dressed in black body armor, wielding assault rifles.


    ¡°We¡¯ve called them once and they said they wanted a helicopter and a pilot within an hour, or they¡¯ll start executing the hostages.¡±


    ¡°Typical, huh?¡± Lance joined the conversation. ¡°These guys watch too much TV.¡±


    Eric glanced over at Lance and frowned. ¡°Is that all they¡¯ve asked for?¡±


    ¡°So far,¡± Hollis shrugged.


    ¡°Have they hurt anyone?¡±


    ¡°No one yet,¡± said Hollis. ¡°They haven¡¯t even fired a shot.¡±


    Eric studied the monitors. At least the perpetrators weren¡¯t smart enough to knock out the cameras. He could see they had forced the hostages to lay on the ground, and were pacing circles around them. Real terrorists would have rounded everyone up and placed them in a central location by now. They looked panicky and unsure of themselves, talking amongst themselves frequently.


    ¡°Well these guys definitely aren¡¯t terrorists.¡± Eric stepped away from the monitors.


    ¡°Just a bunch of robbers with their backs against the wall. I doubt they Want to kill anyone, but we can¡¯t underestimate how they will react if they get desperate. Where is the bank entrance?¡±


    One of the other officers pointed over the hood of the van. ¡°Right there.¡±


    Eric looked and saw it was located at the base of a tall office building. There were no windows, and the entrance was a set of glass double doors.


    ¡°Tight fit,¡± he scratched his jaw. ¡°So what do you have planned, Captain?¡±


    Hollis looked a little surprised. ¡°Me? Well I thought about trying to wear them down and maybe get some men in from the floor above. But I thought you would be handling that sort of thing.¡±


    Eric nodded. ¡°Never hurts to get ideas.¡±


    He eyed the monitors for a few more minutes then finally. ¡°Can you call them again?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Hollis then turned to one of the officers. ¡°Rick, set it up.¡±


    The young policeman punched a few numbers into a phone, and then handed Eric the receiver.


    The Major took it, and placed it to his ear. He watched as the robbers reacted to the ringing phone. They seemed to squabble for a bit, and then finally, one of them answered.


    ¡°Yeah what?¡± a harsh voice said.


    ¡°Who am I talking to?¡± Eric demanded.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t giving my name.¡±


    ¡°Alright, just tell me what I should refer to you as then.¡±


    ¡°Um. . .¡± the man then paused. ¡°Just call me Jack.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Jack we-¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s my fucking chopper man? I¡¯m gonna start shooting up these people soon you know?¡±


    ¡°Hey calm down,¡± Eric told him.


    ¡°Calm down?¡± the man shouted. ¡°You get me my fucking shit cop, or all these mother fuckers are dead. You hear me? Dead!¡±


    Eric heard the phone slam in his ear.


    ¡°What the?¡± Anger boiled within his blood. Shade grit his teeth. ¡°Get him back on the phone.¡±


    The policeman quickly redialed the number and then nodded. Eric saw they were a bit quicker to respond as the same man answered the phone again.


    ¡°What the hell is it now?¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Eric commanded. ¡°Now you listen to me you little fuck!"


    The people standing around him went suddenly quiet, as did the man on the phone.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a cop, and I¡¯m not here to listen to your shitty demands,¡± he stated firmly.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to offer you a chance to live.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± the man shouted back indignantly. ¡°Just who the fuck are you?¡±


    ¡°Major Eric Corbin with the department of civil defense.¡± Shade looked down at his watch. ¡°In five minutes I¡¯m going to declare a state of temporary marshal law. Do you understand what that means?¡±


    There was only a pause filled with deep breathing.


    ¡°Do you?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Well, motherfucker. It means that in five minutes, I¡¯m going to come in there to arrest you. And if you resist, you will be executed. Hear me? No chase, no trial, simply executed. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± the gunman rebelled. ¡°You can¡¯t do that shit. If you come in here I¡¯ll roast all these bitches and you!¡±


    ¡°You got exactly five minutes,¡± Eric repeated himself. ¡°Three hundred seconds starting now!¡± Shade handed the receiver back to the officer.


    Captain Hollis looked in shock. ¡°That¡¯s how you deal with a hostage situation? You¡¯re going to get those people killed in there.¡±


    ¡°Take it easy, Hollis.¡± Eric then looked past him to Lieutenant Ahn. ¡°You got standard riot gear in the APC right?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± she nodded.


    ¡°Alright go get your squad and bring ¡®em over here,¡± he directed her. ¡°And bring back a grenade launcher with some B type chemical rounds.¡±


    ¡°Chemicals?¡± Hollis protested. ¡°You¡¯re going to use chemical weapons?¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Lance rested a hand on the Captain¡¯s chest. ¡°B type rounds only contain gaseous sedatives. Harmless.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure they are safe?¡± Hollis was still concerned. ¡°What if someone has an allergic reaction or a heart condition? I mean, someone could die for Christ¡¯s sake!¡±


    ¡°There is only a two percent chance of the drug causing death due to anaphylactic shock,¡± Lance assured him. ¡°There is more chance of them dying from asphyxiation while unconscious than from that. And even in that case we¡¯ll be quick enough to prevent it from happening.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re still willing to take those kinds of risks?¡±


    ¡°Well, we could use D Type chemical rounds I guess,¡± Lance shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s a ninety-nine percent chance of both asphyxia and anaphylactic shock using them.¡±


    Hollis was stupefied by his response. Without another word, Lance turned his back to the police captain and approached the Major.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s your idea, Sir?¡±


    ¡°Still working on it,¡± Eric carefully studied the bank layout. ¡°They don¡¯t have anyone near the door, so we can assume they can¡¯t see us. These are all the security camera feeds, right?¡±


    Captain Hollis nodded.


    ¡°Good.¡± Eric wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. ¡°So if there¡¯s no camera outside. We can get fairly close then.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡± Hollis rested his hands on his waist.


    ¡°Pop in the B type rounds, wait twenty seconds and then go clean ¡®em up.¡± Eric looked


    towards Lance. ¡°Sound good to you?¡±


    The lieutenant rubbed his chin. ¡°What if they have respiratory filters?¡±


    ¡°Good point,¡± Shade agreed. ¡°But I doubt it by the way these guys look and act. If they had money to spend on cyberware, it¡¯d probably be on weapons. Still, we¡¯ll just have to keep our reaction time fast. The blast from the rounds should stun them at least anyway.¡±


    ¡°Blast? Stun?¡± Hollis was in disbelief. ¡°I can¡¯t allow this. Are you forgetting there are


    civilians in there?¡±


    ¡°Hey you¡¯re the one who called CDI!¡± Shade pointed at the Captain¡¯s chest. ¡°If you don¡¯t like how we¡¯re handling the situation then tough. I¡¯m in charge now and I¡¯m treating this as I would any low-level terrorist threat.¡±


    The Captain grimaced but said nothing.


    Lieutenant Ahn returned with her squad following behind her. Eric waited for them to gather around the van before he spoke.


    ¡°Alright listen up,¡± he stood in the center of them. ¡°We have three armed perpetrators within the bank.¡±


    He then paused to take a deep breath. ¡°By the powers vested in me by the Federal Government, I, Major Eric Corbin, hereby exercise my right, under section three, subsection C, paragraph four of the Civil Defense Act, that as of 1248 hours today, Marshal law shall now commence within an area of one kilometer radii.¡±


    ¡°Time marked.¡± Lance keyed something into his watch.


    ¡°The perpetrators have full knowledge of this,¡± Eric continued. ¡°Our objective is to neutralize the perpetrators through any means necessary, with minimal loss of civilian life. We¡¯ll be using B type chemical grenades to launch our assault. Ahn split the group.


    We¡¯ll use five-man squad tactics. Alpha Squad will initialize the attack and Bravo squad will move in fifteen seconds after squad Alpha blow open the doors. Lieutenant Ahn, I¡¯ll leave the detailed organization up to you. We roll in two minutes.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Ahn shouted. ¡°All right you heard the Major. Form into small squads.


    Tucker and Brent man the launchers.¡±


    The young soldiers moved quickly to their commander¡¯s orders. Ahn shouted out more detailed commands to prepare them for the action. They fitted their gas masks and loaded their rifles. Eric could feel the excitement coming from them.


    ¡°Oh I forgot to tell you,¡± Lance taped Eric on the shoulder. ¡°I found some interesting information about that cyberoid we saw at that crash site.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re ready to go, Major,¡± Ahn announced.


    ¡°Save it, Lance.¡± Eric raised the back of his hand to him. ¡°Okay, move ¡®em out Ahn!¡±


    ¡°All right people!¡± she shouted to her squad. ¡°Alpha move out!¡±


    Half the soldiers ran dashing towards the bank. In less than a minute, they¡¯d reached the wall and lined up flat against it. Ahn waited for the squad leader to give an okay signal.


    ¡°Alright Bravo let¡¯s go!¡± Ahn began running towards the bank, fitting her mask about her mouth.


    Eric watched her advance to the wall on the other side of the bank door. Her squad made it across safely, and grouped themselves into formation. Slight hand signals were given between the two squads. Ahn handled the movements expertly. Alpha squad advanced to just in front of the door. Bravo slipped in a few seconds after them. Ahn gave a final signal and the soldiers, Tucker and Brent, ran out and positioned themselves directly in front of the glass doors. Dropping to one knee they took aim and fired.


    Two cannon like bangs shattered the silence with a burst of exploding glass and debris. The front doors instantly became a twisted heap of wreckage, as one of the well- placed rounds tore right into the frame. Tucker and Brent fired again.


    From the monitor, Eric saw the chemical laden munitions explode into a noxious white cloud. Moving quickly, Alpha rammed through the remnants of the front door. Clouded by the gas, Eric could see nothing on the monitors. A short clap of rifle fire was heard from inside the bank and Ahn gave the order for her squad to move in.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Lance,¡± Shade commanded.


    Snapping his pistol from his shoulder holster, Eric began his advance towards the entrance of the bank. Drawing his own handgun, Lance followed after him. They ran at full pace towards the bank entrance; keeping their weapons pointed towards the street as they traversed the open area.


    Shade heard a few more shots being fired from inside. Reaching the outside of the bank, he slammed his back against the outside wall and raised his pistol level with his head. Seconds later Lance arrived on the opposite side.


    ¡°Hold your fire!¡± he heard Ahn¡¯s voice.


    ¡°That¡¯s right! No one fucking move or I fucking kill this bitch!¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡± Shade said softly. Poking his head into the now shattered doorway, he could see the back of one of the gunmen. He was dragging a female hostage with him, apparently unconscious. In his right hand he held an assault rifle cocked awkwardly against the woman¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking move!¡± the gunman screamed, backing up slowly towards the door.


    ¡°Drop your shit!¡±


    Lance looked over at him imploringly.


    Shade shook his head for him not to do anything.


    Slowly the perpetrator shuffled his way backwards. In front of him, Shade saw Lieutenant Ahn, poised with her rifle trained directly on the assailant. He was close, very close, just a meter or two away from the doorway.


    ¡°I said drop that shit!¡± the gunman screamed again. ¡°You dumb fucks!¡±


    Exhaling sharply, Shade made his move.


    He strode through the entranceway, covering the distance quickly with three soundless steps. He positioned himself directly behind the gunman and then spoke in a calm whisper.


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    Reacting instinctively, the startled robber turned back towards him.


    Shade took quick advantage, grasping the muzzle of the rifle and pulling it away from the woman¡¯s throat. Then in a brilliant arc of speed and strength, he whipped his free arm forward, slamming the butt of his pistol directly into the gunman¡¯s head. Blood gushed forth with a massive crack, splashing onto the floor like a fountain as it spewed heavily from the deep wound.


    The man fell to the floor unconscious.


    Eric paused, shocked at how much damage he had done.


    Ahn and her men stood frozen at the sight as well.


    Lance dashed through the entranceway and stooped down to both the gunman and the hostage. Pushing the woman aside, he examined the man¡¯s head that was still bleeding steadily. Ahn approached slowly, as Lance began pumping drugs into the man¡¯s neck.


    ¡°God what a mess,¡± she stooped down next to him. ¡°Can you save him, Lance?¡±


    ¡°Not like this. Better call a medivac right away.¡± Lance began ripping open bandages. ¡°If not, just call a meat wagon Whenever you feel like it.¡±


    ¡°Ahn go call.¡± Eric holstered his weapon.


    She nodded and turned toward the young soldier to her left. ¡°Take care of it, James.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am,¡± he replied then ran out the door towards the APC.


    Eric was still a bit shaken by the sight before him. It had been a long time since he had hurt someone that badly. It brought back a flood of memories, painful memories of war and savagery that he was all too much a part of. He shook his head.


    ¡°Any civilian casualties, Ahn?¡± he snapped himself out of it.


    ¡°No, none sir,¡± she sat the woman against the wall. ¡°The other two dropped like flies from the gas. I don¡¯t know how this one stayed up. He fired a few shots but didn¡¯t hit anyone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Eric looked around the interior of the bank. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s start reviving these people. Lance mark the time. I hereby declare the cessation of all activities under Marshall Law.¡±


    ¡°Right sir.¡± Ahn removed a small case from her thigh pocket. ¡°Let¡¯s go people.¡±


    The young Lieutenant began passing out sticks of ammonium concentrate. One by one, they revived the hostages with the strong odor of the chemical. Lance remained stooping over the fallen criminal, pressing gauze patches against his head.


    ¡°Stop worrying, Shade.¡± Lance tossed a bloody bandage aside and replaced it with a fresh one. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault you can hit this hard.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Eric disagreed, wiping his face with his hand. ¡°I should have used more control. I let adrenaline get the best of me.¡±


    ¡°Hey we¡¯re not used to dealing with adversaries like him.¡± Lance stood up. ¡°What we¡¯re usually up against, a hit like that would have merely caused a headache.¡±


    ¡°Yeah but still-¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t finish telling you,¡± Lance interrupted him. ¡°About that cyberoid.¡±


    ¡°Oh right.¡± Eric actually welcomed the change in subject. ¡°What did you find out?¡±


    ¡°I analyzed the video captured in my suit helmet, and got a good bit of visual detail. I handed it over to Captain Lita to see what she could find. It turns out she is a Commander Barro Suta of USSD. Brilliant service record, three silver stars, over one thousand career mission. Flew over six hundred mission during the Chinese conflict alone.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯s still alive?¡±


    Lance cracked a grin. ¡°Her last orders were to be put on a project called Geo Star . Ever heard of it?¡±


    ¡°Geo Star ?¡± Eric shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t ring a bell.¡±


    ¡°I asked Lita to check into it further, but she said she ran into too much security.¡±


    ¡°Top secret?¡± Shade looked to Lance questioningly.


    His subordinate nodded. ¡°Might have something to do with that thing she was carrying on her back that night.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Eric shrugged.


    ¡°Oh and remember that guy who showed up?¡± Lance began to pat the gunman¡¯s body down. ¡°That doctor, Webber?¡±


    Eric nodded in response.


    ¡°I looked him up too.¡± Lance found a small knife in the gunman¡¯s boot and handed it to Eric. ¡°Genesis engineer subcontracted by USSD, working on that same Geo Star project. And get this, he¡¯s Suta¡¯s designer.¡±


    Eric raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s weird. Coincidence?¡±


    ¡°Unlikely,¡± Lance said. ¡°Anyway, just thought you¡¯d like to know. Want to look into it any further? The leads on that terrorist ring we were after are pretty much dead right now.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Eric said a bit distracted. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Eric stepped outside as he heard the whine of an aerodyne arriving. He looked upwards and saw the red and white emergency markings of an ambulance. He stayed outside to guide them to the fallen victim. Lance soon joined him, gazing up at the slowly lowering behemoth.


    ¡°This shit is killing me, Lance.¡± Eric rubbed his face with both hands this time. ¡°The stress, the hours. It¡¯s putting a big toll on Vanessa and I too.¡±


    Lance nodded but remained silent.


    ¡°Sometimes the shit that I do shocks even me.¡± He glanced at the body of the gunman behind them. ¡°It¡¯s eating me alive. I feel like I get less and less human every day.¡±


    Lance chuckled and smiled.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not getting any less human, Sir.¡± Lance patted him on the back consolingly. ¡°You¡¯ve just been hanging around me too much.¡±


    Eric paused and smiled. ¡°Sometimes I forget you¡¯re not one of us.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± Lance grinned. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m the one that¡¯s been hanging around you too much then.¡±


    Eric looked at the bionid and laughed. ¡°You¡¯ve got one messed up sense of humor, Lieutenant.¡±


    Lance nodded in agreement and then laughed as well.

 Chapter 16

    Lisa Petty drove slowly through the streets of downtown Cronus. At one in the afternoon, the traffic was not particularly thick, but she was not used to the downtown area. In fact, she did not come into the city very much at all, if she could avoid it. Lisa was from a small town in Missouri, and the stress and congestion of big cities did not suit her well.


    Lisa pressed a button on the steering wheel, and brought up a city map on the small dashboard screen. She pulled up slowly to a red light and took some time to study it. Her destination was less than a block away.


    The light turned green, and Lisa rolled off the line at a moderate pace, staring out of her window for where she was supposed to turn. An annoyed motorist overtook her and shouted something as he passed. Lisa shook her head ignoring him, then continued studying the map as she eyed the buildings passing on her right.


    At the end of the block, she saw a dark gray structure some five stories in height. It was fairly large, taking up a quarter of the length of the block. It was built further away from the street, however, with a wide flight of stairs leading to the entrance, much like a courthouse. In front of the stairs, a flagpole was flying the American flag and just below it, a flag with a crest, depicting an eagle holding a scroll and a sword. On the front of the building, bold letters spelled the words Civil Defense and Investigations.


    She had found the place at least. Lisa looked for somewhere to park, but saw no empty bays along the street. Next to the building, she spotted what looked like the entrance to a subterranean parking garage. As she drove closer, she quickly noticed there were men dressed in camouflage fatigues and wielding rifles posted in the guard booths around the entrance.


    With a flick of the indicator and a slight tug on the wheel, Lisa turned the car into the entrance and pulled up before the guard booth. She rolled down her window as a young soldier approached her.


    "Afternoon Ma''am," the soldier saluted.


    "Good afternoon," Lisa saluted back. "I''m here to see Major Corbin."


    "Could I see some ID please?"


    "Sure." Lisa dug into her purse and pulled out her military identification. She smiled as she handed it to him.


    "Okay, I''m just going to check this through," he said and returned to his booth.


    Lisa waited a few moments, as the guard made a call on the phone. He studied her ID card carefully as he spoke into the receiver. Then nodding briefly, he hung up.


    "I''m sorry ma''am," he approached her car again. "But we have no record of you having an appointment with the Major."


    "He isn''t expecting me," Lisa replied. "Can you call him for me? I''m sure he''d want to see me. Just tell him who I am."


    "Okay..." The guard then pondered for a moment. "Well you see, Major Corbin isn''t even here at the moment. He''s out on a call."


    "Oh I see." Lisa wasn''t about to give up just yet. "Can''t you contact him via radio or something?"


    "Well we could I guess but-"


    "Please," she urged. "It''s quite important."


    The guard stopped to mull it over, then finally, "okay, hold on a few minutes. I''ll try to get him."


    He returned to his booth and began to dial upon the phone again.


    Lisa waited patiently. In the back of her head she tried to think of what she would say to the Major. She needed his help that was for sure, but she also knew that she couldn''t just blurt out everything to him. It helped that she would be talking to him over the phone. Seeing him in person would have been much harder.


    "Ma''am," the guard called to her, and gestured for her to come into the booth. She stepped out of her car and joined him.


    "It''s ringing," he told her and handed Lisa the phone.


    **********


    Eric leaned against the APC as the last of the hostages were given medical attention and then sent on their way. The medics told him the gunman would survive. That made him feel a little better at least. Most of Ahn''s squad were already packed into the APC, and were waiting for her so they could return to base. He could not see where she was, but assumed she was still inside the bank, writing down details to add to her report. Ahn was immaculate when it came to paperwork, especially when it would be himself that would be reading it. He knew she wanted to get transferred from the ATU into his division. He would give her the chance in time; she had certainly proved herself. But right now she was needed more as a platoon leader than an investigator.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    One of the soldiers inside suddenly poked his head out the door. "Excuse me, Major. There is a call for you."


    "A call?" Eric was a little surprised. "Who is it?"


    "I don''t know, sir," the soldier shrugged. "She said it was important though." "She?" Eric took the small cell phone from the soldier and placed it too his ear, then sighed expecting to hear Vanessa''s voice.


    "Hello?"


    Eric heard a faint clattering over the phone and then a woman''s voice was heard, but it certainly wasn''t that of his fianc¨¦e''s.


    "Hello Major Corbin?"


    "Yeah?"


    "My name is Lieutenant Lisa Petty," she announced herself. "We met briefly before at the crash sight, I don''t know if you remember me."


    "Yeah I remember you." Eric then paused. "Hold on a minute."


    Eric rested the phone on the bonnet of the APC. He looked around for Lance and saw he was still talking with the policemen by the van.


    "Hey Decker," he called to the same soldier who handed him the phone. "Run and call Lieutenant Lance for me please."


    Rising out of his seat, Decker nodded to him. "Yes sir."


    He then trotted towards the police van.


    "So what do you want, Lieutenant," Eric grabbed the phone again. "You said it was important?"


    "Yes sir, it is," she replied. "I require your assistance."


    "My assistance?" Eric grinned slightly.


    "Yes," she continued. "I need any information you may have regarding that incident two nights ago."


    "Oh really?" Eric taunted her. "Just what kind of information do you require, Lieutenant?"


    "I want to know why you were already on the scene before we arrived," she demanded. "And also exactly what you saw there?"


    "You want what?" Eric nearly laughed. "Look, like I told you before, we saw the crash and we were investigating."


    "That''s impossible," she told him.


    "Oh and why is that?"


    "Because the plane didn''t crash."


    That was news to him. "Is that right?"


    "Major," she said finally. "I know you know more about what happened than you are telling me, and I also know you are interested in finding out what really happened." Decker returned with Lance walking next to him.


    Eric raised his hand for both of them to wait.


    "Alright, assuming that is true," he spoke into the phone. "What exactly did you call me for?"


    "Like I said, I would like your assistance, Major."


    "So you''re requesting CDI assistance on an investigation then?" Eric nodded to Decker telling him it was okay to leave.


    "No," she replied slowly. "Not exactly, sir."


    "Then what?"


    "I wish to request," she paused briefly. "Your personal assistance Major Corbin. I''m coming to you unofficially on this."


    "Unofficially?" Eric was surprised yet again. "So you don''t have permission from your superiors to get CDI cooperation?"


    "No," she said. "In fact, I would rather you not even try to contact them about this." A bundle of excitement knotted in Eric''s stomach. A mixture of curiosity and anxiety gripped him, in a familiar, and all too addictive, embrace.


    "Alright, where and when can I meet you to discuss this more?"


    "Anywhere is fine with me," she said. "But I am at your headquarters right now." "You are?" Eric looked at the semi chaos still surrounding him. "I won''t be back there for a while though. Can you wait?"


    "How long?" she asked. "I have to be back on base in an hour unfortunately. I thought you would have been here."


    "Well, it''s probably going to take longer than that." Eric looked at his watch. "How about later?"


    "I can leave the base after 1900 tonight."


    "Okay can we meet around eight o''clock then?"


    "Fine," she said. "At your headquarters?"


    "Yeah."


    "Okay," she agreed. "Oh, one more thing sir."


    "What?"


    "Do you remember a Doctor Webber?" she asked. "He was there that night as well." She certainly didn''t seem to trust his memory much. "Yes I remember him. Will he be coming as well?"


    "Most likely," she told him. "Is that alright?"


    "Certainly," Eric affirmed. "I''ll see you then."


    Eric switched off the phone.


    Lance was still waiting patiently.


    "So? Who was that?"


    "Lisa Petty," Eric leaned against the APC. "That Lieutenant who was in charge the other night."


    "She actually called you?"


    "Scary I know," Eric grinned. "But there is more."


    Lance cocked an eyebrow, "eh?"


    "She wants to meet with me off the record," Eric told him. "Her and that guy Webber."


    "Meet with you?" Lance leaned against the vehicle as well. "What the hell for?" "Don''t know yet," he shrugged. "But there is a good chance they might have something really good on USSD. Hopefully we''ll find out what that thing was that night."


    "Sounds like it," Lance exhaled deeply. "So are you going to pick this up as a case?" "Not yet," Eric scratched his jaw. "Not officially at least. We''ll see what they have to say and decide from there. I still can''t believe it, a USSD agent coming to us for unofficial help."


    Lance chuckled. "Maybe the world is gonna end soon."


    "You free tonight at eight?" Eric glanced over to Lance.


    "Sure," the bionid nodded. "Shouldn''t take me too long to write this one up." "Good," Eric said. "We are meeting at HQ."


    Lance grinned. "I can hardly wait."

 Chapter 17

    The gleaming sun began its slow, lofty descent into the vast blue ocean of the pacific. Its rays, once powerful and burning, now faded leisurely into a soft yellow light. Barro gazed upward through the warehouse window, enjoying the gentle warmth upon her face. She leaned back on the large crate that served as her chair and rested her elbows upon it. She admired the view outside. The warehouse was located right on the edge of the shipping district, and from her vantage, she could see the entire dockyard.


    Stretching for over a ten kilometers, the Cronus Dockyard was a massive concrete harbor, sunken off the south coast of Catalina. Responsible for over sixty percent of the goods imported and exported from the city, the Dockyard was a never resting work zone of bustling cranes and moving containers. Able to accommodate over two hundred cargo ships at once, it was renowned as being one of the largest shipping ports in the world. Turning her attention away from heavy vehicles rolling up and down the dock, Barro angled her head downwards, and stared blankly at the strange new clothes she found herself in.


    She wore a pair of black riding shorts and a tight fitting athletic top to match. They were clothes Cindy had been nice enough to loan her. She was not used to wearing anything that fit so snug, or that revealed so much skin, but they were very comfortable and were a welcome change to the flight suit she had been wearing for nearly two days.


    "Something wrong?" Trevor asked her.


    "Pardon?" Barro snapped her head back upwards.


    Trevor was seated on a crate across from her. In between them was a third crate that served as a table. Upon it, sat a chessboard, containing the small army of black and white plastic pieces that had been warring with each other for the last hour.


    "You seem distracted." Trevor began fiddling with one of the pieces. "Are you getting bored?"


    "Oh no," Barro shook her head. "I was just admiring this outfit."


    Trevor grinned. "Well it is certainly very... Cindy."


    "Don''t you mean skimpy?" she tugged slightly at the top.


    Trevor chuckled politely. "It does look good on you though."


    "Thank you," Barro smiled at him.


    "Are you hungry yet?"


    "I think I am, actually," she said. "I hope the food didn''t go cold."


    "Oh don''t worry," Trevor stood up. "I''ll just go heat them up a bit."


    "What was it you got again?" Barro crossed her legs.


    "Gyros," he replied walking towards the kitchen area.


    "You never explained what they were exactly," she called to him.


    "You''ll see," Trevor said still walking away from her.


    Barro smiled. She was glad to see him. The only people who actually stayed in the warehouse were Mother, Andrea and herself. The others had jobs and apartments of their own scattered across the city. The only time they gathered here, was when Andrea called a meeting. She hadn''t gotten to know her new found companions very well. In fact she was still basically a stranger to most of them. The only person who seemed to make an effort to get to know her at all was Trevor. He was very talkative, and was always asking her questions about her life, and various other things. She hadn''t been able to just talk with anyone like that for a long time. She looked forward to when he came by.


    Trevor returned with a plastic bag in one hand, and two plates in the other. He set down the plates, and started unloading two large foil wrapped packages.


    "So these are gyros huh?" Barro poked at the foil.


    "Yup," he sat down on his crate again. "You sure you''ve never had one?" Barro shook her head. "We didn''t get much variety up on Luna."


    "Well you have a lot of cuisine to experience then." Trevor produced two large drinks from the bag and set them on the table as well.


    Barro was still eyeing the bundle of foil in front of her curiously.


    "Go on open it," he prompted her with a smile. "They''re pretty good."


    She grinned and then started to unwrap the foil. Careful not to burn herself on the steam rising from the package, Barro peeled away the shiny aluminum and revealed what was inside. Before her was a flat piece of bread rolled into a cone. It was stuffed with slices of meat and topped with raw onions and tomatoes and all covered with some kind of white sauce she couldn''t identify.


    "What kind of meat is this?" she poked at the dark brown matter warily.


    "Ground lamb I think," Trevor shrugged. "It tastes pretty good though, give it a try." "And what''s the white stuff?"


    "It''s a cucumber sauce," he began to unwrap his own meal. "Now stop asking questions and just try it."


    He gestured for her to bite into it. Barro grinned and giggled slightly, then took hold of the awkward object and raised it to her mouth. Trying to be as neat as possible, she bit into the sandwich. A strange and unusual taste filled her mouth. The meat was highly seasoned and reminded her somewhat of meatloaf. It was a bit salty, but it went well


    with the onions and tomatoes and the creamy sauce balanced the salt of the meat perfectly. Barro smiled; it tasted good.


    "Like it?" Trevor asked.


    She nodded, reaching for a napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth. "It tastes all right." "Just all right?"


    "I''m still getting used to it," she said, then smiled and took another bite.


    Trevor grinned, satisfied with the results. He lifted his own gyro from his plate, and took a substantial bite out of it. They chewed in silence, enjoying the meal. Around them other members of their group were doing the same.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Kesler, Devon and Frank were gathered around a crate, wolfing down several boxes of pizza and a case of beer. It amazed Trevor how much food and alcohol they could pack away. Even though his body type was very similar, he had no where near the metabolic capacity they did. He supposed they needed to burn up a lot more energy for the kind of work they did.


    Dalton, Cindy and Sonia had also grouped into their little white-collar clique. Dalton seemed to be explaining something to Sonia, while Cindy peered curiously over their shoulders. Adjacent to them were Andrea and Mother. Both of them were connected to the small terminal outlet that served as their computer interface. They were having another one of their private virtual meetings. They usually held one right before everyone got together. Trevor reasoned it made sense for them to have their secret powwow whilst everyone else was eating, since Mother didn''t need to eat at all.


    Stuffing the last bit of the gyro into his mouth, Trevor chewed and washed it down with a healthy sip from his drink. He looked over and saw Barro had nearly finished her meal as well. He turned towards the others and waited till she was done.


    Mother and Andrea had finished their discussion and were gravitating towards Cindy and the others. Kesler and his group were heading over as well, with half finished beers in hand.


    "Looks like we''re going to start," he gestured towards Mother.


    Barro nodded with her mouth full. She sipped upon her drink and cleared her throat with a swallow. "Finally."


    "For real." Trevor took another gulp of his drink. "You done?"


    "Yes." Barro rolled the remnants of her meal into the foil and tossed it into the empty bag. "Thanks for dinner, Trevor, I really enjoyed it."


    "No problem," Trevor smiled. "Hey maybe we can have dinner at a real restaurant sometime."


    Barro was a bit surprised by the invitation. She had been taken out to dinner before, mostly to officer''s balls and things like that. But somehow, the way he asked seemed to hint something more. Barro couldn''t quite figure out what, but she liked it.


    "Sure," Barro smiled back. "That would be great."


    "We''d better head over." Trevor disposed of his trash and began collecting the plates. "I''m just going to dump this stuff."


    Barro rose from her seat. "Okay."


    Still carrying her drink, she moved over towards the main group. Mother was already speaking, and eyes and cars were glued to her attentively. Barro stopped just behind Kesler, who greeted her with a quick upward jerk of his head.


    She smiled back at him.


    "Things have been very lax so far," Mother was saying. "But now that I and Commander Suta are here, we can finally start what we have been gathered together for. Tonight we will cease to be a group of victims and slaves, and become warriors in our battle for freedom. No longer shall we bow down and serve the companies and corporations who tether our very lives, and spend them like currency. From this day on, we shall make it known that the race of synthetics, which was born from humankind, have now come of age, and have superceded their creators. I want to make it clear that after tonight we will be branded as outlaws and traitors. Some of you might not be able to return to the lives you have now."


    Mother suddenly turned her glassy eyes to Suta. "Some of us have already made that sacrifice. This is not a simple matter, and those of you who do not wish to follow through, still have the option of leaving now. If there is anyone who has doubts let them be known."


    Mother paused. There was a still silence as heads turned to one another, but nothing was said.


    "Very well," Mother continued. "I am grateful to you all for devoting your lives to our cause. Tonight, our battle starts with preparation. No army can win a war without weapons, and it is weapons that we hope to obtain. Andrea."


    Andrea stepped forward slightly. "For the past two weeks, I have been in contact with various arms dealers throughout the black market. In doing so, I have found a faction of synthetics with goals similar, but not identical to our own. They call themselves the Followers of Anubis, the Undead."


    "Undead?" said Kesler. "Sounds like a bunch of freaks."


    Devon and Frank chuckled in agreement.


    Andrea waited patiently before continuing. "Despite their name and reasoning, the Anubis are a highly organized and sophisticated group. Their exact numbers are unknown, but are believed to range in the hundreds. They have agreed to have a meeting with us and propose a merger."


    "A merger?" Sonia interjected. "With us?"


    "Yes," Andrea said. "They want to see if we will join them."


    "But by no means shall we," Mother stated quickly and firmly. "We are the ones who will offer them the option of joining us."


    "If they decide not to," Andrea continued, "then we will settle to be allies. The Anubis have access to weapons and are willing to deal with us in that capacity."


    "What kind of weapons?" Kesler cracked his knuckles loudly.


    "For now just small arms and armor." Andrea began pacing lightly in front of them. "The money we are using, is being raised by Sonia. We must all thank her for the risk she is taking for supplying us with financial support."


    Andrea gestured to the small woman who simply nodded.


    "There is one more thing which is vital to us in our endeavor," Andrea added. "Most of you are still young, and thus this will not affect you as greatly, however, for those of us such as Kesler, Suta, Trevor and myself, cellular deterioration is a great factor. In time, this will become a problem for all of us, when we go fully underground and can no longer receive regeneration treatment from legal sources. I myself have been surviving off a regiment of expensive injections. For all of us, however, it has been decided that we need to invest in proper regeneration equipment. We must obtain at least two amino vats and enough proteins to sustain us for as long as we need. Anubis might be able to supply this as well although I am still unsure."


    Barro felt a sudden uneasiness inside of her. Things had been moving so quickly that she hadn''t even stopped to consider life extension. She of all of them was the most prone. She could die. A wave of fear swept through her and covered her forehead in a light sweat. Even on Luna, she needed cell rejuvenation treatment monthly. With the added stress of Earth gravity on her body, she could need it twice as often as that. Maybe more, perhaps even weekly.


    A hand suddenly grasped her wrist.


    Startled she looked downwards and saw Trevor''s hand holding hers.


    "You all right?" he asked her in a whisper. "You were shaking."


    Barro blinked rapidly, trying to force back her anxiety. "I''m fine."


    Trevor stared at her with his imploring brown eyes.


    "Really." Barro forced a smile upon her face. "I''m fine."


    "Okay." Trevor released her hand.


    Suta looked away from him and swallowed the hardness gathering in her throat. Andrea was still talking. She seemed to be calling out people. Barro suddenly heard her own name being called again.


    "Pardon, Andrea," Barro interrupted her. "I''m sorry, but what is this for? I... Didn''t hear you."


    "The meeting with the other faction," Andrea told her. "We are choosing who will be going. You were chosen Barro."


    "Oh?" Barro was slightly embarrassed. "Who else is going?"


    "We''ve decided it is going to be you, Sonia, Kesler and myself." Andrea pointed each of them out. "We don''t want too big of a group."


    "This is but the start my children," Mother stepped forward. "We may seem small in comparison to this other faction, but we will increase in numbers shortly."


    "We will be meeting them in a club in the downtown area." Andrea ran her eyes over the group. "The meeting is set for ten o''clock tonight. Until then, we will go over our next course of action after we receive the weapons. Any questions thus far?"


    Again no one spoke.


    Looking around her, Barro could see the excitement shared on each of their faces. A flare of enthusiasm that seemed to burn in their eyes as they stared upon their idol, the Mother. Perhaps it was from the scare she had just had or perhaps from her age, but somehow she just did not feel the conviction they did.


    Almost instinctively, she looked across to Trevor.


    Unlike the others, his eyes were fixed directly upon hers, and not Mother''s. A sort of comfort and understanding seemed to flow from his gaze and her eyes melted within it. Barro was glad she was not alone.

 Chapter 18: Meeting with the Experts

    Michael Webber crooked his head and peered warily through the top of the car window. Ominous black clouds were forming in the quickly darkening heavens, shedding a haze of deep gray over the entire sky. Just outside, the scenery passed by quickly as the car traveled smoothly along the highway. There was another flash of lightning in the distance, followed seconds later by a low-pitched rumble of thunder.


    "You gawking at it won''t stop it from coming," Petty said from the driver''s seat. Webber turned his head to the young Lieutenant and smirked. "Thanks for the tip." Lisa cracked a grin. "It doesn''t bother me any, I like it when it rains. Especially at night."


    Webber sat back in his seat and raised his arms above his head. "Yeah, good love making weather eh?"


    "What?" Lisa laughed. "Where did you come up with that?"


    "You''ve never heard that expression before?"


    Lisa shook her head. "Nope."


    Nudging the wheel, Lisa turned the car off the main highway and headed for the downtown of the city. She was making much better time compared to her earlier trip. Traffic flowing into the city was very light. The thick stream of headlights heading in the other direction indicated otherwise for traffic leaving the metropolis.


    "So what''s the story with you Ms Petty?" Webber turned himself towards her. Lisa raised her eyebrow at the question. "What do you mean?"


    "Where are you from? How''d you end up here? What''s your favorite ice cream? I''m supposed to be working with you and I just realized I know hardly anything about you." "Oh okay," Lisa nodded.


    "So?"


    "So..." She thought for a moment trying to find an answer. "I''m from Missouri. I went and studied law at Harvard and graduated. I tried the bar exam twice and figured out law wasn''t what I wanted to do, so I went to the naval academy and joined USSD."


    "You gave up law school to join USSD?" Webber sounded a bit shocked.


    "Well I still have my degree, it''s not like I dropped out or anything." Lisa slowed as she came upon some traffic ahead of her. "I just didn''t want to be a lawyer. My father wanted me to be one more than I did."


    "Oh I see," Webber nodded. "So is this what you really want to do then?"


    "Kind of," Lisa said. "I enjoy my career but I don''t like the position I''m in now." "You mean investigations?"


    "No investigations is fine." Lisa looked out the window for the exit ramp. "Although I admit I don''t like this particular investigation much at all. A year out of the academy, I was positioned at the pentagon. I suppose I wasn''t much back then. Worked mostly in front of a computer all day, but at least I was up with the big fish you know?"


    Webber nodded. "How long were you there for?"


    "Not long," Lisa shrugged. "About three years I think."


    "And then they sent you out here?"


    "Yeah, I got transferred last year. I guess I''m being sent to get some more experience, but to tell you the truth I liked it in Washington a lot more."


    "Well you can''t expect to be Admiral right away," Webber chucked.


    "Oh I know." She accelerated to pass a car. "Still I don''t like it out here much. So what about you, Webber?"


    "Me?" Webber gazed upward reflectively. "Well, originally I''m from New Jersey. Went to college at MIT for my undergraduate degree and then to Cal Tech for my masters and doctorate. I liked it out here, so I pretty much stayed in California. I taught at Cal Tech for about six years then finally left when I landed a research position with Genesis."


    "Professor Webber huh?" Lisa smiled. "So what exactly is your field? Sorry for sounding like an idiot."


    "Cybemary engineering," Webber chuckled. "I specialize in cyberbrain research." "So that optical processor," Lisa said. "You invented that?"


    "Well I designed that particular one," Webber admitted. "Wouldn''t say I actually invented it."


    "I see." Lisa still didn''t quite understanding the difference.


    "So are you married?" Webber gestured to the ring on her left hand.


    "No not yet," she said. "Engaged."


    "So your fianc¨¦ is back in Washington I presume?"


    "Yes unfortunately," Lisa sighed. "One of the main reasons I dislike it here." Webber laughed and smiled sympathetically at her.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    "So what about you, Webber?" she turned to him. "You married?"


    "Divorced twice," he ran a hand through his hair and laughed. "No woman has been able to put up with me it seems."


    "Oh," Lisa didn''t know quite how to respond. "Well sometimes you just end up with the wrong person, I guess."


    "Well both of them started out good." Webber gazed through the window and then let out a sigh. "But I was always on the move with my research. I hardly realized it then, but I really didn''t put enough effort into either marriage. In the end they both left me." "Sorry to hear that," Lisa tried to comfort him.


    "I have a son from my first marriage though," Webber changed the subject. "He''ll be nine next month. He''s coming to visit me and stay for the summer."


    "He lives with his mother then?" Lisa slowed and exited the highway.


    "Yes, in San Diego."


    "What''s his name?"


    "Kyle," Webber told her. "Wait I have a picture."


    Webber lifted himself off of the seat and retrieved his wallet from his pants pocket. Opening it, he flipped to the small picture holder inside, and held it for her to see. Lisa smiled in response. "He''s cute. Looks just like you."


    "Thanks." Webber held the picture and looked at it for a while. "I''m looking forward to seeing him. I just hope all this will be over soon, so I can be done with this contract."


    Lisa nodded in agreement.


    "The headquarters is not too far from here now." She began keeping an eye out for the entrance. "Hey, did you manage to get those background checks done?"


    "Oh shit," Webber said. "I nearly forgot, sorry."


    He reached down to his briefcase that was resting on the floor and promptly opened it, retrieving two folders. "I meant to show them to you earlier."


    "That''s okay. Was there any problem getting the information?"


    "I didn''t ask," Webber replied. "I just gave the names to the guy in intelligence and left. I guess the search wasn''t too hard, he got a lot of information."


    "Well it might not be compete," Lisa glanced over at the folders. "But it will be enough to let me know who I''m dealing with at least. Could you read the details for me?"


    "Sure." Webber then opened one of the files. "Major Eric ''Shade'' Corbin."


    He began reading the dossier. "Born November 8'' 2008 in Seattle Washington. Joined the marine reserves soon after high school and went into special-forces Recon. He fought three tours during the Central American conflict and attained the rank of Staff Sergeant before leaving to go to college. He then joined the Marines full time, graduating from the Naval Academy as a commissioned officer with a bachelor''s degree in Mechanical Engineering. He was an armored company commander during the Chinese conflict, operating deep infiltration missions into Wu-han. He left the Marines with the rank of captain and came to Cronus City nine years ago. A year after his arrival he joined CDI. After two years of undercover work, he was promoted to major and put in charge of their heavy weapons division. That''s pretty much it. He has a shit load of medals too, four purple hearts, two silver stars. Hmm, doesn''t seem to have much on his personal life in here though."


    "Damn, he made it all the way up to staff sergeant? Then went for officer and made major?" Lisa was humbled; not only was he a massively experienced soldier, but he was a war hero as well. She felt even stupider for trying to pull rank on him before. "What about the other one, his partner?"


    Webber fumbled slightly as he opened the other folder. "First Lieutenant Lance 002 Harrington S."


    "What?" Lisa peered over confused. "What kind of name is that?"


    "Oh he''s a bionid," Webber said. "Lance is his name, 002 is his generation and Harrington S. is his model name."


    "Weird," Lisa pondered. "Why doesn''t Commander Suta have a complicated name like that?"


    "With Cyberoids it''s different," Webber said. "They are manufactured with totally artificial components so they can be given arbitrary names. Bionids are cloned from actual people. Lots of legality and stuff gets involved then. You''d probably know more about that than me since you went to law school. Anyway, his model name, S. Harrington, actually belonged to the person he was cloned from. Any other Harrington models would look exactly like him."


    "Creepy," Lisa cringed. "You said he was second generation? Those are the ones you were telling me about before right? The ones that go crazy?"


    "Um no," Webber said. "That''s another difference between bionids and cyberoids. In cyberoids, yes, second generation means just that. With bionids, however, a second generation means that the bionid is in its second run of production."


    "So you mean there is a Lance 001, 002, 003, 00 whatever?"


    "No it''s illegal to have two runs of the same bionid in existence at the same time," he explained. "Just as it is illegal to have a clone and original existing at the same time. You can have as many as you want of the same model though. Like Harrington S. John, Harrington S. Mark, Harrington S. whatever. There was a Lance 001. He was this Lance''s predecessor. Anytime one dies they take a brain tissue sample to clone the next generation''s version. The next generation bionid is loaded with any new skills to fit its new occupation but retain the knowledge of most of their skills from their predecessor. So basically the higher the generation of bionid the more skilled they are likely to be."


    "That''s even weirder," Lisa shook her head. "So this Lance still has the memories of his predecessor?"


    "Kind of," Webber said. "Not cognitive memories but some do have dreams or even nightmares of past lives. The only thing that really holds over are their skills and abilities since they are stored in a different part of the brain."


    "So what happened to 001?"


    Webber looked at the file. "He died in Hunan province during the Chinese conflict. He was a marine platoon commander. Short life too, lived fourteen months. Lance 002 was created six years ago as a personal aid to Major Corbin, by his request in fact. Hmm, I wonder if Corbin actually knew 001? Anyway, 002 specializes in heavy weapons intelligence and mecha operation."


    "Hell of a team," Lisa said dryly. "Look, Webber, although we are trying to cooperate, let me do most of the talking okay?"


    Webber didn''t see much reason why but he agreed anyway. "Sure." "We''re here," she announced slowing the car. "Oh one more thing." "What''s that?"


    "What we are doing here is kind of illegal," she pulled up to the gate. "So be sure to leave this out of the Admirals update report. Okay?"


    Webber blinked and then said as flatly as he had before. "Sure."


    **********

 Chapter 19

    Lieutenant Lance 002 eyed the monitor. A dark gray sedan stopped in front of the gate. The soldier on duty stepped to the driver''s side window slowly. Turning to the second screen before him, Lance studied the array of sensor data being compiled from the vehicle. There were no weapons or explosives hidden anywhere and the two passengers were both human with minimal cybernetic augmentation. They posed no threat.


    The phone rang next to him.


    Lance picked up the receiver. "Yeah."


    The guard on duty spoke. "A Lieutenant Petty is here to see Major Corbin."


    "Send them in, I''ll meet them downstairs."


    "Yes Sir."


    Lance hung up the phone.


    He waited a bit longer and watched the sedan drive forward into the parking garage. He then left the control room. Walking down the short corridor leading to the garage entrance, he took time to look himself over briefly. He was still dressed in his camo fatigues from earlier. He fiddled with his uniform slightly, making sure it was neat and in order.


    Opening the door at the end of the corridor, he entered into the parking garage. Not far away, he saw two people stepping from out of the sedan. Lance had not yet seen the doctor or the Lieutenant in person, but he recognized them immediately from their file photographs. He walked a little closer and then halted.


    "Lieutenant Petty." Lance saluted her and turned to her companion. "Dr. Webber."


    Petty saluted back, and walked towards him with Webber not far behind.


    "Hello, Lieutenant um..." Lisa paused. She didn''t quite know which name to refer him by. "Harrington?"


    The bionid stared at her for a moment but said nothing.


    Lisa cleared her throat uncomfortably. His reaction was odd. She wondered if she had made some kind of bionid faux pas.


    "This way," he said. The bionid then turned, leading them towards an elevator. "The Major is waiting upstairs."


    Webber and Petty followed him wordlessly. He didn''t seem like much of a conversationalist, and the scowling expression on his face indicated he wasn''t in a very good mood.


    The bionid hailed the elevator and led them inside when it arrived. He pressed for the third floor and then stood back as the doors closed and the elevator began it''s journey. Webber suddenly cleared his throat. "Hey can I ask something?"


    Petty turned her head towards him, as did the Lieutenant.


    "What?" Lance said.


    "Okay..." Webber raised his finger questioningly. "You two are both Lieutenants right?"


    She looked over at the bionid as he looked back at her.


    "Yes?" Lisa said, eyeing Webber curiously. "Why?"


    Webber then pointed to their ranking insignia on their lapels. "So why does he have one silver bar and you have two?"


    Lisa couldn''t fathom how Webber had come up with such an odd question. "USSD uses naval ranking for officers. In the navy one silver bar is junior lieutenant and two is full lieutenant. In other armed forces, one silver bar is first lieutenant and two is captain."


    "Oh, so you outrank him then?"


    "Well..." Lisa felt a little embarrassed. Webber was the one making the faux pas now. "Well technically, yes."


    Webber nodded smiling happily. "Neat."


    Lisa heard the bionid muffle a quick chuckle next to her.


    The elevator chimed and the doors slid open.


    "This way," he said curtly and led them into a carpeted hallway.


    The interior was wide, with a high ceiling. Along its white walls were large plaques and glass cases, housing various pictures, badges and crests. Between them were doors marked with people''s names and department titles.


    The Lieutenant stopped at a door labeled ''Heavy Weapons Division'' and opened it. Stepping through the entrance, he ushering for them to follow. Inside was a small office about ten meters square. There were three desks at the corners of the room, with the fourth being occupied by a coffee machine and a small fridge. At the back of the office was a wall, constructed of wood and opaque glass. In its center, was yet another door with the words ''Maj. Eric Corbin'' written upon its front.


    Lance walked up to it and rapped on the glass.


    They heard a muffled reply. "Come in."


    The bionid held the door open for them. "Go ahead."


    Lisa and Webber walked past the Lieutenant and into the center of the room. She saw the Major seated behind a large black desk.


    "Just a second," he held up his hand as he hastily wrote something down on a piece of paper.


    The door closed behind them and the bionid stepped around and leaned against the wall next to the Major. He then pointed to the two chairs in front of the Major''s desk. "Take a seat."


    Lisa blinked, taken off guard by the way he practically ordered them to sit.


    Webber seemed unfazed by it, and plopped himself down immediately. Lisa followed his example and seated herself slowly. She didn''t like the way this bionid was treating them. She wondered if he had taken offense to the way that she had addressed him in the garage or perhaps to the way Webber tastelessly pointed out his lower rank. Whatever it was, it was clear they were both on his bad side.


    "So what''s on your mind?" Corbin put down his pen and smiled at them.


    Lisa was a little surprised by the Major''s first comment. She didn''t know where to start. "Urn.."


    "Go on," Corbin prompted her to respond.


    "All right," Petty composed herself. "Let me start by first asking you what you were really doing at the crash site."


    The Major raised his hands openly. "Like I said, we were there by chance. We overheard some of your radio communications and decided to render assistance."


    Lisa couldn''t tell whether he was lying or not, but he seemed somewhat honest. She decided to press further. "And when you got there, can you tell me what you saw?"


    "We saw two cyberoids," he leaned back in his chair with his hands atop his head. "One of them, the female, seemed to be carrying something on her back. A body of some kind."


    "You saw them?" Webber edged forward on his chair. "Were they all right?" "Couldn''t tell really." Lance placed the bottom of his foot against the wall. "We didn''t see too much of them before the construction cyberoid attacked."


    "Did they give any indication of how they left?" Petty asked. "What direction they took? Anything?"


    "Sorry." Eric picked up his pen and began flipping it through his fingers. "Now, why don''t you tell us the whole story behind this. Why did one of your top pilots steal an F-38 and go AWOL?"


    Lisa looked over to Webber. "Why don''t you tell them. It''s your project." "Project Geostar?" Lance asked.


    Webber turned to the bionid in surprise. "Yes, how did you know?"


    "Just heard it somewhere," the Lieutenant folded his arms cockily. "Go on."


    "Alright." Webber opened his briefcase and produced a rather heavy looking binder. "I think this will explain a lot."Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    He handed the binder to the Major. "That''s the technical manual for the Geostar Android, prototype version 2.2. The android body was designed by us and manufactured here in Cronus City. Its purpose is to fly Space Defense''s new prototype spacecraft, the Geostar."


    "So is this what we saw on that cyberoid''s back?" Corbin flipped through the binder. "Most likely." Webber then rose from his seat. "You tell me. Is that what you saw?"


    Eric looked over the detailed drawings in front of him. The design was immaculate. "Yes this is what we saw. So the escaped cyberoid, Suta. She was trying to steal this then?"


    Webber nodded. "Actually, I think she succeeded."


    "So it¡¯s just an Android?" Lance edged closer to the desk.


    "It''s a bit more than that," Webber said. "The GS-02 is designed to withstand acceleration forces of 150 plus Gs. Its body is made of gravitationally compressed molybdenum-steel alloy. It has a modulus of elasticity of 900 megapascals."


    "That''s over ten times the value of steel''s." Shade''s brow furrowed in disbelief. "This stuff actually exists?"


    "It''s right there in front of you," Webber pointed to the binder. "But that''s not the main part."


    "More?" Eric rose an eyebrow.


    "My major part of the project was to design an optical cyberbrain for the android." Webber flipped the pages of the binder in front of the Major. "USSD wanted to have a cyberoid pilot''s consciousness stored into the brain, and plugged into the android body."


    Shade blinked. "And you''ve accomplished this?"


    "In theory it will work, yes," Webber said "But Suta was to be the first subject."


    "So you were going to download her into your android?" Lance asked him.


    "In essence," Webber nodded. "Yes."


    "That''d be enough for me to go AWOL," Lance said with a chuckle.


    "But why did she steal it?" Eric asked. "Do you think she is planning to sell it?"


    "Well that is where it gets a little more complicated." Webber ran his hand through his hair. "I think the android itself might now be alive."


    "Alive?" Eric glanced over at Lance who shared his look of skepticism.


    "I know it sounds strange," Webber quickly dove into his bag again. "But just hear me out please."


    Webber produced a few sheets of paper and handed them to Eric. "These are computer logs from the night of the incident. You can see that Commander Suta was in contact with the site:Cray17.satnet.gov</a>."


    "Okay." Eric waited for more.


    Webber paused trying to think of the best way to represent everything. "All right. On that satellite is a program called MOTHER. Mother is an acronym that stands for Maternal Oriented-"


    "Training Host for Empathic Response," Corbin finished for him.


    "We''re familiar with the program doctor," the bionid returned to his spot on the wall. "You are?" Webber was surprised yet again. "Not many people know about it at all." "In heavy weapons we deal with a lot of cyberoid cases," the Major explained. "Stuff


    like Mother is required reading."


    The bionid nodded. "Go on."


    "Alright, well... The night of the incident, a large tile was downloaded into the android''s cyberbrain through Suta''s terminal." Webber then paused. "I think it was this Mother program that was downloaded. And I believe that that is what is now controlling the android body."


    "The Mother program?" the Lieutenant said skeptically.


    "I doubt that," Corbin scoffed at the idea. "The whole thing is basically a VR simulation. I don''t think it has the capacity for artificial intelligence, much less the control of an android body."


    "I know that," Webber agreed, "but think of this. The Mother program has been in existence for over thirty-five years. In that time it has been in contact with millions of cyberoids. I believe it may have somehow learned from the cyberoids it was hosting and over time has derived a consciousness of its own."


    "You mean you think it''s sentient?" Corbin rested down his pen.


    A sudden light flashed brightly through the window. A hail of thunder pounded the glass, shaking it slightly. From outside, the soft whisper of rain was heard, as the threatening clouds finally released their contents upon the city.


    The Major looked behind him and frowned. "Shit, I rode today too."


    "What?" Webber cocked his head forward.


    "Nothing," Corbin dismissed the question. "So you were saying. You think that this android of yours is being controlled by a sentient Mother program?"


    Webber didn''t like the way he put it. It made his idea sound ludicrous. "Basically yes."


    The Major and the bionid shared another quick glance.


    "Okay," the Lieutenant suddenly stepped towards him. "Going along with that. What exactly did you need our help with? You need to retrieve the android body I presume."


    "Yes," Petty answered him. "I was put in charge of the investigation, but I''ve only been here a year and am not at all familiar with the city. I was hoping you could perhaps point us in the right direction."


    The Major rubbed his jaw. "Have you done any detective work before?"


    "Sort of." She then hesitated a bit. "Actually not much at all."


    "Well basically we have no reason to open up an investigation on this," Corbin said. "So far this doesn''t even fall into CDI''s sector, much less my division. If you want our help you''re going to have to request it officially."


    "What?" Lisa rose slightly from her seat. "I told you before that I can''t come to you officially on this. I thought you agreed to help me if I gave you more information."


    "I will," the Major assured. "But you have to understand that this must eventually lead to something related to my jurisdiction or else I could end up in a lot of shit. Now if you can somehow link this to some form of terrorism, then we could get involved."


    "Well she broke enough laws. Can''t you just start an investigation based on the fact that she stole a piece of high-grade military equipment? That alone is treason." Lisa looked back and forth between the two agents for an answer.


    Shade nibbled on his bottom lip. "That''s still not sufficient. CDI can''t go around chasing people for any old crime. We got the police and FBI for that. If she just stole it then it really does just fall into your department."


    Petty sighed annoyed. "So now you''re saying it''s our problem after all? I remember at the crash site that you were very eager to get CDI involved. And now you don''t seem to want to at all."


    "I did not say that." Eric didn''t like her change in attitude. "What I''m trying to tell you is that I need suspicion of terrorist involvement or intent, to start an investigation. CDI operates outside the judicial system with little to no legal bounds. All CDI actions must be devoted to the prevention and elimination of terrorism only. If we didn''t have stipulations like this, we''d end up as bad as the CIA was before it got disbanded."


    "Yes, yes I know." Lisa was very familiar with the CDI codes of authority. She had once spent an entire semester studying them. "So there is no way then?"


    "I''m not sure. You have any ideas, Lance?" Corbin turned to the bionid.


    Lance rested his chin on his chest. "I suppose we could pursue it on the premise that it''s a potentially lethal form of heavy weaponry. That will put it in our division at least. That''s assuming that it can be categorized as a military specification D or C class cyberoid."


    Corbin looked for confirmation from the doctor. "Can it?"


    "Oh yes," Webber said quickly, "no doubt. It''s body is equivalent to light tank armor and it has a power to weight ratio of three point eight kilowatts per kilogram."


    The bionid looked over at the Major. "That''d make it twice as fast as our Griffin mechs."


    "Sounds like something a radical faction might want to get their hands on," Corbin grinned.


    "So, you will start an investigation then?" Lisa asked.


    The Major shrugged. "Sure."


    She smiled with satisfaction. "Thank you, Sir."


    "What leads do you have?" the bionid questioned her.


    "Not many," she admitted.


    "What about that construction cyberoid," Corbin said. "Do you have anything on him?"


    "I do actually." Lisa removed a folder from her satchel and dropped it onto the Major''s desk. "That''s his profile. He was purchased by Dunnway Construction Limited a little over a year ago. There are some details on his model specifications but that''s about it."


    The Major opened the folder. "We could start here. Anything else?"


    Lisa tapped her finger on the arm of the chair. "There is one more thing." Corbin looked up at her. "Yeah?"


    Lisa paused for a moment. She considered mentioning her suspicion of someone higher up being involved. If one of the Admirals did have something to do with the incident, it would make sense for them to put her in charge to keep their tracks from being uncovered. She desperately wanted the Major''s advice. She needed to know if the whole thing sounded idiotic or not. It could have just been a case of bad judgement on their part, or perhaps Admiral Quinnly had remembered her from Washington, and was giving her a shot at something big.


    Lisa began to doubt herself. Perhaps that was it all along. Maybe Quinnly was just doing her a favor, a chance to prove herself. She would still like to hear the Major''s thoughts on the matter, but there was also the secrecy of the Gunstar project at stake. She had already compromised enough security coming this far. But it was for a good reason. She needed their help in the investigation. There was no doubt about that, but she was just subcontracting them. After all it wasn''t like they were going to take over her investigation.


    "Hello?" the major waved a hand at her.


    Lisa blinked startled. "Oh sorry."


    "You said something else?" Corbin prodded her.


    "Urn, no." Lisa looked about her and began to stand. "I''d like to thank you for your time and cooperation, Major Corbin."


    "All right then." The Major stood and shook her hand. "I''ll have Lieutenant Lance give you a secure contact number."


    Lisa looked over to the bionid who nodded. "I''ll escort you back to your vehicle." Webber rose from his seat as well. "Thank you, Major"


    Corbin shook his hand as well.


    Shade waited for them to leave his office before sitting down again. He placed his elbows on his desk and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He listened to the rain falling heavily against his office window as he looked down at the binder full of classified information in front of him. The meeting had gone smoothly. He had gotten more information out of her than he anticipated. She obviously expected him to do her footwork for her and then hand her nicely typed reports to submit to her boss.


    Eric smirked. Petty would have a rude awakening. Something big was going on, he could feel it and he was going to find out what it was. A cyberoid pilot, a commander no less, stealing a prototype android with a cyberbrain capable of storing a human consciousness. The components alone made his nerves stand on end, he had to force himself not to seem excited during the meeting. He hoped he had done as good a job as Lance had; his subordinate had seemed almost bored. But on top of everything, the incident reeked of an inside job. Eric Corbin had waited a long time to uncover USSD''s undertakings.


    He almost couldn''t believe that he had finally been given the chance to do so.

 Chapter 20: Here there be Vampires

    The downtown area of Cronus was the center of the city''s nightlife. Within its blocks was housed a dense population of restaurants, bars and nightclubs, each catering to as many types of people, as there were various cultures and classes dwelling within the city. From the posh elegance of fine dining, to the seedy pleasures of the red light district, all could be found along its heavily packed streets. Holographic signs yelled loudly into the night, calling potential patrons with their dazzling display of colors, spectacular artwork and imaginative names.


    Andrea drove slowly through the congested traffic, the situation becoming augmented by the heavily falling rain. Ahead of her, she could see a sign marking the name of the club they were headed to. In glowing red letters, the words ''The Crypt'' faded into existence two stories above the ground, becoming slightly refracted by the rain falling through them. Andrea slowed the car as she neared the sign and found a parking bay along the opposite side of the street. She signaled her turn and then carefully fitted her vehicle into the line of parked cars that hugged the curb. Shutting off the engine, she turned around and faced the passengers.


    In the adjacent seat, Kesler was dressed in a simple outfit, consisting of a skin-tight black net shirt and a pair of loose black pants. Andrea could not help but pause slightly at the muscular torso, almost bursting through his top. He would make an excellent show of force to the Anubis.


    She then looked to the back seat, where Suta and Sonia were gazing out the window towards the club.


    Sonia was clad in a very sophisticated piece of dress wear, much like Andrea''s own. She wore a pair of deep violet dress pants and a silky top to match. Her face was covered with light makeup and her ears accented with small diamond earrings that matched her loosely hanging necklace.


    Beside her Suta was dressed quite differently. Her attire seemed hardly there at all. She was covered with a skin-tight bodysuit, made of translucent plastic. The material was lined with photocells that covered the surface of the suit, and concealed her private regions with a myriad of intricate patterns. The entire trip, they had been treated to a veritable light show of swirling colors and glowing highlights, complements of her outfit.


    Andrea could tell Suta did not like the suit very much at all. She kept looking down on herself and frowning. Andrea tried to ease her self-consciousness. "You look all right, dear."


    Barro pulled her lips to one side. "I have a feeling it might be a bit much." Kesler turned around in his seat grinning. "Hey, I like it."


    Barro folded her arms over her overly protruding breasts. "Thanks."


    "Next time you can borrow some of my clothes," Sonia rested a hand on her arm.


    "Thanks," Barro said again. "But I think I might try to go shopping for some of my own soon. I mean, Cindy is very willing to give me her things, but I think you need a certain kind of personality to wear them."


    Sonia chuckled next to her. "You can come with me tomorrow."


    "Really?" Barro said delighted


    "Of course," Sonia smiled. She then looked out her window at the rain. "Do you think it will stop?"


    "Not a chance." Kesler opened his door and the sound of the falling rain filled the air. "Let''s make a run for it."


    "I have an umbrella," Andrea reached down beside her. She opened her own door just as Kesler slammed his and began a sprint towards the club. "Oh well. More room for us I suppose."


    Putting the umbrella outside, she pushed it open, and climbed out of the car under its shelter. Closing her door, she moved to the back of the car and helped Sonia and Barro under its protection as well. The rain pounded on the material noisily, as they huddled together and began to trek slowly towards the club entrance.


    Staring under the rim of the umbrella and through the water sheeting off it, Barro looked to see where they were headed. Across the street, not ten meters away was a structure straight out of the dark ages. Looming spires towered into the rain-drenched sky. Their sides illuminated by the soft glow of what seemed like candlelight, coming


    from gothic windows fixed into the dark gray stone of the building. On either side of each window, two stone gargoyles stood their guard, with two gigantic gargoyle structures standing their visual over the main doors. The building was impressive to say the lease. Someone had spent a lot of money capturing the authenticity of a gothic cathedral.


    Kesler was waiting for them as they reached the shelter of the overhanging entranceway. Not far from him were two men dressed in tight leather pants and vests. Their heads were shaved bald and their skin painted an opaque white. Barro assumed they were the bouncers. They seemed to match perfectly with the dark decor of the club.


    Andrea shook out her umbrella. "Handle the cover for us please, Sonia."


    Sonia nodded and stepped briskly past the two bouncers and to a small barred window just within the doors. She withdrew a plastic card from her purse and passed it to the pale faced woman inside the booth.


    "Come." Andrea led Kesler and Barro to where Sonia was.


    "Just place your hand through the slot," the woman instructed Sonia.


    As she did so, a blue laser ran itself quickly over the back of her hand.


    "Next," the woman called.


    They each placed their hand through the slot and got marked with the small laser tagging. They then regrouped a bit away from the booth. Barro could detect the faint scent of cigarette smoke coming from the dimly lit corridor ahead of them. She could also feel the pounding bass of music, trembling through her feet. She enhanced her hearing and began listening to it. It was somewhat similar to what she had heard in the park. It was fast paced, with a woman singing a high pitched vocal chorus accompanied by synthesized harmonics. She began to tap her foot and then became aware of Andrea talking to her.


    "Pardon?"


    She could tell Andrea was a little annoyed. "I said, we''re here for business only. Sonia and I will do most of the talking. Barro, I might need you to determine the value of the weapons we''re trying to buy. Kesler, you''re here as a show of force, in case things get out of hand. I''m sure they won''t but just in case."


    "Yeah whatever," Kesler shrugged. He seemed slightly insulted. "Just sic me on ''em when you''re ready, alright?"


    Andrea ignored his remark. "I guess we can go then."


    Barro nodded. She suddenly became aware of how brightly her outfit was glowing in the surrounding darkness. She started to feel uncomfortable again. They stepped forward into the club, and she followed behind them a bit reluctantly.


    She could hear the music growing stronger as they traveled down the corridor. A layer of smoke began to form on the ground, and Barro could feel the temperature dropping slightly. They reached the end of the corridor and saw it split into two directions.


    Andrea turned right and they followed after her.


    As the music grew louder, Barro began to bob her head to it involuntarily. The smoke thickened and finally the corridor entered into the heart of the nightclub.


    Barro halted abruptly.


    She stood on the edge of a pit that spanned some thirty meters. Below her, four terraces sloped downward another ten meters to a gaping dance floor. On each terrace was a bar, surrounded by lounge chairs, which were spread along the entire circumference of the terrace. Above, enormous chandeliers hung from ceiling chains, which extended upwards so high they blended into the darkness. Beside the chandeliers, hung cages housing women dressed in scraps of dangling leather. They danced in their cages seductively, sliding their bodies up and down on the bars, performing all sorts of sexuality suggestive acts. At the edges of the top terrace, four doorways led upwards to the balcony booths that were cut into the walls of the building. From the booths, eyes gawked upon the people on the terraces and the dance floor, staring intently like voyeurs.


    Barro stared with them, totally in awe of the types of people and clothing she saw. Most were dressed in black leathers with chains hanging in all sorts of cracks and crevices. People painted their faces stark white and had all manners of piercings protruding from their ears, lips and noses. The colors and styles of hair she saw stunned her. From long and jet black, to multicolored and sculpted, to bald and tattooed. Men and women wore hairstyles so non-typical and strange, that she could hardly tell one sex from the other.


    Now, Barro did not feel at all odd about the outfit she was wearing. In fact, compared to some of the women she saw in the club, she was almost conservative. A group of women below her weren''t wearing anything at all. They were biosculpted, surgically altered with animal like characteristics. Two of them were sporting feline jobs, complete with tails and catlike ears protruding from the tops of their heads. The suede like fur on their bodies covered their backs and arms in a pattern of leopard spots, while leaving their private regions exposed for all to gawk at.


    Barro cringed as she looked at them. She could not fathom what would possess a person to want to scar their body in such a manner. But there was also the possibility that they had no choice in the matter at all. Many bionids and A-type cyberoids were sold with such biosculpt packages. People nicknamed them sexdolls.


    Barrow scowled intensely. "What kind of place is this?"


    Andrea started to walk towards one of the doorways. "Like I said, we are here for business only. Pay no attention to our surroundings."


    Kesler''s eyes lashed hungrily over the sights around him. "Too bad. I might have to come back here later."


    Barro followed after them. It certainly wasn''t her kind of place. Not that she frequented nightclubs at all, but she could definitely tell she didn''t like the crowd surrounding her. She felt eyes probing her as she walked. Strange men and even women gawked at her, their eyes filled with shameless desire. It made her stomach turn. She walked faster and fixed her eyes forward, avoiding their gazes.


    She was happy to reach the stairs and climbed quickly, following after Kesler.


    They ascended two flights and began walking down another corridor. Along the left wall were doors leading to the various booths. Andrea walked briskly ahead of them and then finally stopped at one. She waited till everyone was grouped together and knocked.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The door opened and a tall, gaunt faced man with hollow eyes poked his head through. "Yes?"


    "I am Andrea," she stepped forward. "We''re here for the meeting."


    The man''s jaw dropped slightly. "Ah... come in."


    Andrea walked past him with a slight smirk on her face. She could imagine the thoughts and images of recognition that must be now running through his head. She had kept all communication with the Anubis non-visual for just that reason. They would no doubt be taken off guard by her appearance. Perhaps she could even convince them to join Mother.


    Within the booth was a fairly large table with eight chairs set around it. Already seated were a man and a woman.


    The man looked to be in his early thirties. His face milky white and his eyes an unnerving yellow. His hair in contrast was pitch black and grown straight and long, hanging in large bangs down the side of his long face. His nose was sharply pointed, as were most of his features, giving him a beautiful almost feminine appearance. He wore a black designer suit, with a high collared white shirt and on his breast pocket he wore a simple pendant depicting a jackal''s head.


    Next to him, the woman appeared almost as his twin. Like him, her features were crisp and sharp with pale skin and jet black hair. Her eyes were violet and her lips painted in deep red scarlet. She wore a sheer black dress that hung low just above her bosom and on it was pinned another jackal head pendant.


    "Hello," the man stood to greet them, outstretching his hand. "You are... Andrea?" Andrea nodded as the rest of her party filtered into the booth. "Raymond King?"


    "Delighted," his thin lips smiled as they shook hands.


    Andrea tried to see if her appearance had any effect on him, but King''s face remained unreadable. Perhaps their memories of Mother were as dead as their complexions. Andrea then turned slightly. "Let me introduce my companions."


    She pointed to each of them in turn. "This is Sonia, Barro and Kesler."


    The woman suddenly stood and smiled widely. "I certainly remember you, Herr Kesler."


    Kesler looked around dumbly as the woman lifted the back of her hand towards him. Not knowing what else to do he took hold of her hand and kissed it. "I ah... don''t really know who you are... ma''am."


    "Vivian," she told him. "It''s a rare treat to meet someone so famous."


    The boxer let out a laugh. "Yeah well. Used to be famous."


    "This is Anthony." Raymond gestured to the tall man still standing by the door. "He will be serving us tonight. Please have a seat."


    With the light scuffle of chairs, they found their places. Barro sat opposite Sonia and next to Kesler. The man Raymond and the woman Vivian were seated further down, next to Andrea. The waiter, Anthony, then began to go around the table asking people their various choices of drinks.


    Barro was surprised. She expected some shady meeting in a smoke filled room around a corner table. Not the near diplomatic treatment they had been given so far. She suddenly felt out of place again, wearing the obscene body suit. The waiter left and closed the door behind him.


    "Shall we begin?" Andrea asked.


    Raymond reached into his pocket and produced a silver cigarette case. "Please."


    ''We are now known as the coalition of synthetics," Andrea said. "Our Mother has finally come to join us and it is now time for us to start action. We have come here to ask if you want to join us in our battle."


    "Battle?" Raymond withdrew a cigarette from his case and placed it in his mouth. "What battle are you supposedly fighting?"


    "The battle for synthetic equality."


    Vivian leaned over and lit the cigarette with a silver plated lighter. "All synthetics are equal, dear."


    ''We mean compared to humans," Sonia retorted somewhat aggressively. "We want to take our rightful place as equals."


    Raymond took a draw on his cigarette. "Oh. That''s what you mean."


    He chuckled, causing Sonia to grow even more annoyed. "Look if you are going to patronize us then-"


    "That''s enough, Sonia," Andrea silenced her. "Mr. King, perhaps we should start this meeting with you explaining what your organization represents. Perhaps we can formulate a merger."


    The door opened behind them. Anthony stepped inside, holding a large tray of glasses. He then went around the table distributing the beverages.


    "Thank you, Anthony." Raymond then gestured for him to exit the room. The gaunt faced man bowed wordlessly and then took his leave once more.


    Barro sipped her drink lightly as she watched him leave. She had met many new


    people since coming to the city, but so far the people tonight had to be the strangest.


    "We want what everyone wants," Raymond took another draw from his cigarette. "Life through eternal death."


    "You want what?" Kesler eyed him queerly.


    "Life," he repeated. "You all might think you are living right now. But you''re not. We are all abomination of life. Perversions brought about through mankind''s constant struggle to attain godhood."


    Vivian tilted her head back slightly as she took a taste of her wine. "We are all Undead. Corpses of twisted machinery and flesh animated through the will of man."


    "What?" Kesler''s face contorted with incomprehension. "That''s a bunch of bullshit man.¡±


    Andrea rested a hand on his large forearm. "Let them speak, Kesler."


    "No, it''s all right." Raymond tapped his cigarette in an ashtray. "Many were doubtful before they came to know Anubis. But once you accept your fate and future, you can finally embrace death. Only then can you truly start living."


    "Yeah, whatever man." Kesler folded his arms across his massive chest.


    "You doubt, Herr Kesler?" Vivian leaned towards him grinning. "How old do you think I am?"


    "Huh?" Kesler jerked his head away from her. "Look, I don''t know. Or even care really."


    Barro''s opinion differed from Kesler''s greatly. Her interest was peaked to an extreme. "How old are you?"


    Vivian laughed softly and then sipped her wine. "I am eighteen and a half years old."


    "What? That''s impossible," Barro denied her claim. Suta was known to be one of the oldest cyberoids in existence and she was only twelve. There was no way this woman could have lived so long. "It just isn''t possible, is it?"


    "Look," Sonia said. "We''re not here to get brainwashed into your cult."


    "It is only natural for you to not believe us." Raymond put out his cigarette. "The only way for you to be convinced would be for you to join us."


    "No fuckin'' chance of that," Kesler laughed.


    "We are digressing from the purpose of this meeting," Andrea spoke up. "We wish to acquire weapons from your organization. We have clean currency with which to purchase it. Can you help us?"


    Raymond leaned forward on the table. "Perhaps. It depends on what you want to acquire. And of course what you plan to do with them."


    "What we plan to do?" Sonia said testily. "Are you going to sell us these weapons or not. If not we can go elsewhere."


    Raymond shrugged. "We only wish to make sure that you don''t take actions which might be detrimental to us."


    Barro regretted how quickly the others dismissed the notion of the woman''s age. She wanted to know if it was actually true. Of course, it wouldn''t matter to them much, but to her a chance to live five or more years would be a miracle. Perhaps this was the method of true life Mother had promised her. Perhaps these people had somehow found a way to regenerate cells more efficiently.


    She opened her mouth to say something, but Andrea suddenly cut her off.


    "An action detrimental to you would no doubt be the same to us," Andrea told him. "Still I will assure you that we will converse on anything we wish to embark on."


    "Very well then." Raymond lifted his glass of brandy from the table and sampled it. "Tell me what you wish to acquire."


    Barro suddenly saw Andrea look towards her, prompting her to answer the man. "We need twenty suits of combat armor," she listed. "Along with twenty 7.62 caliber


    assault rifles, preferably M-18''s with enough ammunition for five magazines each."


    "An easy order," he said. "Is that it?"


    Barro nodded. "Yes, that is it."


    "That''s all our budget allows us for now." Sonia looked across to Andrea. "I don''t think there is anything else is there?"


    Andrea shook her head. "Can you supply us?"


    Raymond slowly swirled the drink within his cup and then looked over to Vivian. He smiled at her and then turned back to Andrea. "Sure. We can get you what you want."


    "What is your price?" Sonia asked him.


    Vivian stared upward at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I think thirty thousand should be sufficient."


    "Thirty thousand?" Sonia looked to Barro for confirmation.


    Barro knew the cost of each item. She went over them in her head and come up with a value fairly close. "It''s fine."


    "Alright then," Sonia stood up. "Where and when can we make an exchange?"


    "In two days time, pier twenty-two in the dockyard at eleven PM." Raymond stood as well, and held his hand aloft to close the deal. Sonia shook it firmly, as did Andrea. They then all rose from the table and began to head for the door. Barro wanted to mention something about life extension again. But the opportunity didn''t reveal itself.


    Perhaps the others were right anyway. Chances were that they were just a deranged cult. The last to leave, Barro closed the door after her.


    Andrea led the way again, moving towards the stairs.


    Sonia trotted up next to her. "Do you think it went well, Andrea?"


    "It''s not over yet." Andrea reached the head of the stairs and began descending down them. "We have made a deal, but it is hardly over."


    "I don''t like ''em." Kesler scratched the back of his neck. "Seem like a couple of freaks to me. All that shit about death."


    "Do you think it could be true?" Barro asked from behind.


    Sonia turned around to her. "Think what is?"


    Barro didn''t want to sound overly infatuated with the idea. She chose her words carefully. "About them being able to live forever."


    Sonia shrugged. "The Undead are a cult. A religion almost. People have to have something to believe in. Even cyberoids I guess."


    She still didn''t answer Barro''s question. "But do you think it''s possible that they found some way to live forever?"


    "Forget about it, Barro," Andrea told her.


    "Forget about it?" Barro became acutely upset. "Look this is important to me. I might not have much longer to live."


    Andrea suddenly stopped at the foot of the stairs. She turned around and looked up at her. "I''m sorry for being insensitive. But trust me, dear. You do not want to live like they do. ''''


    "What do you mean?" Barro stepped down the stairs a little closer to her.


    "The followers of Anubis are mostly old cyberoids very close to retirement," Andrea said. "Many are drawn to them for hopes of a new life. Most have only months to live and nothing to lose. They inject themselves with cryothyzine-T7, a toxin that plunges their cells into stasis. Their brain cells are kept alive with fresh infusions of blood and


    amino derms, but in time they will deteriorate as well. But their bodies are dead. The only thing moving them are the myomer strands laced in their muscles."


    "So you mean they''re really dead?" Kesler''s eyes grew wide.


    "Didn''t you feel how cold her hand was?" Andrea turned and started walking down the steps again. "Enough of this. Let''s go. We have to get back to the warehouse."


    No one moved for a moment. Their minds still digesting the information they had just received.


    "Real life fucking vampires." Kesler shook his head slowly in disbelief. He then shrugged and started down the stairs. "Maybe I won''t be coming back here."


    "Yeah, that''s hard to believe," Sonia chuckled jokingly as she followed after him.


    Barro remained fixed, staring blankly ahead of her. Was that her only option? Was that to be her fate? A husk of dead flesh animated by the cyberbrain lodged deep inside her skull. It seemed far worse than having her consciousness locked into an android body. Maybe she had made the wrong choice about everything. Maybe she should have just gone ahead with the project. Done her duty. Lived her life, as she should have.


    "Barro?" Sonia was suddenly standing next to her. She rested a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"


    Barro turned to her slowly. A tear was beginning to form in the corner of her eye. "Why do we even exist, Sonia? What are we supposed to get out of this short life?"


    "I-" Sonia merely stared back at her. "We really need to go."


    The accountant then turned and started walking down the stairs again. Barro shook her head slowly as she watched her leave.


    "Life... A life of eternal death."