Chapter Eleven: Puppet Masters Boris shivered violently, pressing his cold body up against the wall for support. He’d fall over if he pulled away. The thug had not expected things to go like this at all. He was just going to take out a threat, that was all. Leonid wasn’t supposed to die. But then again, Zero of the Maverick Hunters wasn’t supposed to be sitting in the shop, either. The ultimate blow was that Leonid had taken a shot, whether he knew it or not, that had been intended for Boris. The Reploid urchin stared down at the gun in his hands. He’d screwed up, big time. He’d charged like a cavalier into a situation that was obviously more than he could handle—snipers were shooting, for God’s sake!—and a lifelong comrade had gotten killed because of it. It’d be easy for him to end his worthless life now, he knew. He was doomed, anyway. He’d opened fire on the leader of the Maverick Hunters…if they hadn’t considered him a Maverick before, they would now. He bet that Mortar would make sure that Zero knew everything Boris had done, just so the old man could have the last laugh. The gun shook in his trembling hand. Give the old man the last laugh? Why should he do that? The gun shook again, and he locked his gaze on it. But then again, this was a painless way out. Who knew what Zero would do to him? He didn’t deserve to live anyway. The gun continued to rattle in Boris’s palm until the Reploid clamped it in an ice grip. He was far too scared of getting killed to ever kill himself, he realized, but didn’t exactly admit that realization to himself. He couldn’t live with the thought that he was afraid. But he couldn’t kill himself, either. What a losing situation! “But why should I give that old bastard the last laugh?!” Boris growled to himself, “How dare he call the Hunters in, like I’m some kind of genocidal maniac! The Hunters deal with terrorists! I’m just a guy tryin’ to survive!” He stopped talking to himself, staring down at the gun. Then his vision began to shift. His eyes shifted involuntarily towards the wall on the side of the building, as though he were in a trance. Boris blinked twice in a combination of enlightenment and determination. Of course! He glared back at the gun and whirled around, throwing the weapon with all his force into the wall of some abandoned apartment. The firearm didn’t break or go off, and merely gave off a loud crack as it hit the stone bricks, clattering to the ground. Boris strode purposefully towards the device he’d been setting up earlier, when the sniper had fired and he and Leonid had rushed in to take care of Mortar. It still hadn’t occurred to Boris that Leonid had been trying to take care of HIM. But that wasn’t the point. What he had before him was not an “electromagnetic scrambler”, as he had told Leonid. To his knowledge, such a gizmo didn’t even exist. No, this was something far better than what he’d told his suddenly pacifistic friend. The man he’d bought it from, a short Reploid in midnight blue armor, had called it a plastique. When Boris had made it clear that he didn’t understand, the merchant had clarified that it was a plastic explosive. Boris didn’t know much about fancy things like bombs, but he had heard of plastic explosives, and he knew how devastating one could be. He imagined that this one would take out at least half of Mortar’s shop, and hopefully it would take out the old bastard himself. Maybe even Zero, Boris thought with a grin. The thug retrieved the miniature manual from a pocket of his tattered coat and fished around on the ground for the screw and wire he was using to set the thing up before all the commotion started. He could do this. “Don’t worry, Leonid,” he breathed as he got to work, “He’ll be coming to join you, soon.” Maverick sniper Diavus was not having one of his better days. For one, he’d failed to take out either of the two targets he’d been assigned to eliminate. Even worse, he’d screwed up royally by addressing Mortar in front of a Maverick Hunter…especially THAT Maverick Hunter. Not to mention that he’d inadvertently blocked his superior’s escape route. He was fairly certain he couldn’t return to base and give Gredam, Malevex, and Teytha THAT report, so he had to do something about it. Which brought him to the third problem. The Hunter who’d screwed up his sniping job earlier was still chasing him around the back alleys. The Hunter had probably called for some kind of reinforcements, even though Diavus hadn’t picked anything up on his frequency scanner. The frequency scanners were fairly new technology that capitalized on old bugging methods of the past, meaning those equipped with the scanners could intercept non-coded radio transmissions. He wished he had something to intercept the plasma bursts that the Hunter kept throwing at him. Diavus had finally taken refuge in a tall apartment complex and hid out on one of the middle floors. He’d lost the Hunter a few turns back, so the head start had allowed him to slip into the building undetected, but he had little doubt that the Hunter would soon be upon him. He clutched his rifle to his side, looking for the best window. Hopefully, he could pick the Hunter off if he saw him coming. If not, well…it’d been a while since he’d had a good fight. Delates darted frantically in and out of open buildings, looking for the Maverick. Even though the Maverick hadn’t really done anything to instigate such a heated pursuit on his part, he still felt angry enough about Sol that dismembering any old Maverick would do. However he also recognized that linking any Maverick to something going on around here could explain a lot about the killings that had taken place recently. He was using a fairly faulty scanner to detect the Reploid’s presence, but it would give a faint bleep if he got close enough. He’d raced down enough streets to realize that the Maverick had to have darted into a building. If the enemy had teleported, Delates would have known about it. That was one thing his scanner would pick up without a doubt. Plus, Delates didn’t think teleportation was possible around here. The process was a lot more complicated than people thought. Unless you had a special capsule of some sort, you had to teleport in certain places only because of the connection between teleportation and cosmic occurrences. A “misfire” in the trajectory of a solar flare somewhere up there could scramble your components as you traveled, resulting in a less than perfect reformation. That was why the Hunters hadn’t just teleported to the quarry that night, since the quarry area was unfit for teleportation. He dashed in and out of building after building until a new thought took him. He stopped doing anything altogether and just sat in one spot. Maybe, just maybe, if the Maverick thought he had given up, he’d show his face… Delates frowned as he stared out the window of an extremely ratty old house. At least no one was home here. He’d surprised a few people already, but he’d just tilted his shoulder pad so they could see the Hunter emblem and ran out of their house when the scan was complete. This whole thing wasn’t fun at all. He hoped things were going easier for Zero… Mortar sat down in a manner that to Zero looked unbelievably uneasy. The old soldier’s joints creaked so much that Zero had half a mind to help him, but he forced himself not to, knowing he had to be fairly stern if he wanted to get anything out of this guy. Frankly, he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if he was forced to send an old guy to Caligula’s interrogators. The crimson Hunter had made the suggestion that they both sit down, rather than talk with Mortar still sprawled out on the floor. Mortar had climbed steadily to his feet in a fiercely independent manner, knowing that Zero thought he was rusty as a sunken ship but not caring. Mortar had sat down in his own easy chair and waved Zero to the nearby couch. Zero stared at it for a second and sat down instead in the second chair Mortar owned. Mortar’s eyes crinkled up in a sign of disapproval. “Really, such signs of distrust aren’t needed. I don’t have any booby traps laying around.” “Forgive me,” Zero said coolly, “if I seem a little mistrusting.” Mortar’s lips curled into a frown as he stared hard at Zero. “You’re not going to believe a word of this.” It was more of a pained realization than a statement or a question, though Zero kept his face impassive. “If it’s the truth, what have I got to lose by believing it?” “Ah…” Mortar said wispily, his voice falling a few notches. “And how will you know if it is the truth, hmm?” This time Zero’s eyes did narrow. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Mr. Mortar. I’ll know if you’re lying to me or not.” The Maverick leaned back in his chair, chewing on that, and from the doubtful expression that soon came over his face he didn’t like it too much. “So then…what is it you want to know from me?” “The works.” Zero gave an emotionless half-smile, crossing his arms over his legs and leaning forward. “Cooperate now, and there will be a hell of a lot less crap for you later on.” “You say that now,” Mortar said in the same wispy tone as before, “but I can’t believe you.” “Why is that?” “You’re a Hunter.” Zero rolled his eyes and took sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest now. “Look, I don’t have the time or patience for the ‘I’m a Maverick, you’re a Hunter, one or both of us must die’ spiel right now, okay? I want answers, not blood, and I want them now.” “No, no, you misunderstood,” Mortar said with some very mild amusement. “You’re a Hunter.” Zero blinked. He didn’t think he’d misunderstood at all, and still didn’t see any error. “Yes, I am. Very perceptive of you, there.” “It has nothing to do with my affiliation in the conflict,” Mortar explained, sort of. “You are a Hunter. You’re not to be taken seriously under any conditions.” Zero frowned inwardly. He knew that the reputation of the Hunters wasn’t very great in some areas, but he’d had no idea it had gotten this bad in the slums. “Surely someone as wizened as a guy your age would know better than to resort to stereotyping.” He was still missing the point entirely, not that Mortar could blame him. “Fine…I’ll ask again. What do you want to know?” “I’ll answer again,” Zero replied, growing vaguely annoyed. “The works. We’ll start with that note. Tell me who and where it came from, and what it means. And don’t spout any bullshit about corporations and real estate.” “Fair enough,” said Mortar with a neutral expression. “The note was from the Mavericks. They had collected files they needed. Their plan is still being formed. My status is perfectly cheery.” “Look,” said Zero, his hopes of a speedy interrogation going down the toilet with a big whoosh, “Unpleasant as you think I am, there are far worse in the business…” “Don’t I know it,” Mortar snorted in interruption. Zero blinked in annoyance. “What is that supposed to mean? Stop being so goddamned cryptic! Oh hell, forget it. The note, smart ass, the note. WHO sent you that note? I don’t want to hear ‘a Maverick’, got it?” Mortar shrugged with equal annoyance. “You think I know everyone I get mail from? Do YOU? I correspond with the Mavericks. Not any Maverick in particular.” “Fine,” Zero nearly growled, knowing that was indeed how the Mavericks usually worked, “What files were taken?” “Lists, a portfolio…I don’t know, I just keep the stuff for them. I don’t actually read it.” “Convenient…what plan?” “That I know even less about. Whatever it was, Sigma’s death put a stop to it.” Mortar inwardly smiled. If he could convince Zero of that, this day would be a great victory. “Maybe when he comes back they’ll be able to rally enough internal support to get it going again…you know how it is.” Zero nodded not so much in agreement but to keep the conversation moving. “What do you know about the man who was killed here?” Mortar frowned. “Why would I know something?” “We know General Thornton and Major Komanov were killed by Mavericks,” Zero lied, “You’re a Maverick sitting in the vicinity. You know something. Now what do you know?” Mortar spoke in as even a tone as before. “They had it coming if they were, you know. They weren’t very pleasant people, I hear, very power hungry, they slaughtered hundreds of innocent Reploids, and to top it off, they were ugly.” Zero was about to launch into his next question before he realized what Mortar had just said. “Excuse me…?” Mortar blinked innocently. “Did I stutter…?” This time Zero glared. He didn’t appreciate it when people played mind games with him…he was messed up enough as it was, he figured. “You said they had slaughtered hundreds of innocent Reploids. Care to elaborate?” “Not really,” Mortar said simply. “It’s very unpleasant, and you wouldn’t appreciate the stain on the Hunter name.” Zero almost rolled his eyes again. “What? Some great big conspiracy that entwines the great and noble Hunters?” Even though Mortar knew well what Zero thought of Mavericks, that last statement told him at least that Zero wasn’t as deluded as some about the Hunters’ role in society. “Actually…?” Mortar said quizzically. Zero sighed heavily and stood up in his chair. “Conspiracy theories. Great. I told you I didn’t have time for some old wives tale! You don’t want to talk to me, then I got other people who will listen.” “I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” “Cute.” Zero opened a compartment on his wrist armor, prepared to punch in the codes for a direct line to HQ. He’d get a squad to pick Mortar up and after a night of talks, maybe the Hunters would know something new. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t believe something if it put a stain on the Hunter name, hmm?” “I told you,” said an irritated Zero as he punched in most of the code, “If it’s the truth, I’ll believe it. But all you’ve got is some half-baked story that you could have cooked up in the five minutes you were sitting here stalling, just like that Zimmerhauf bullshit!” “Do you want to know who killed Mea, Zero?” The very air died with that simple statement. Zero’s finger stopped a hair’s length away from the “Send” button on his communicator and the rest of him seemed to lock up for a half second before his mind started churning out the million questions as to how Mortar could have known anything about that. He choked on his own breath, then regained his composure…very slightly…and turned stiffly towards Mortar. Now it was his voice that was wispy. “How do you know about that?” For his part, Mortar was feeling very smug. He’d been so damn fortunate to have Zero here interrogating him, rather contrary to what he’d thought earlier; otherwise he doubted he’d never have hooked the attention of a Hunter. And he’d sunk that hook in deep, he knew. Zero looked like he’d seen a ghost or twenty, and whatever else, Mortar knew that the Hunter would believe pretty much anything he was told for a good while. Since the truth so often hurt, Mortar decided to give it to him. “I asked first,” said Mortar, coolly. “Do you want to know who killed your friend, all those years ago?” Each word seemed to sink into Zero more than the last. The Hunter sank back into his chair, his shock still apparent on his face. He stared quietly at the ground for a second before focusing himself and meeting Mortar’s eyes with his own and responding quietly. “I already know who killed her. He’s one of your kind.” Zero continued on for good measure without blinking, his voice steadily becoming stronger. “I was this close to decapitating him a few nights ago. Believe me, I know who killed Mea.” Strong as Zero’s voice was becoming, Mortar knew the Hunter was still wallowing in confusion. He played on it before the opportunity passed. “You know who pulled the trigger. You don’t know who killed her.” Zero seemed to shiver with frustration, his glare becoming more piercing, but still uncertain. “Why is there a difference? HE pulled the trigger and HE killed her!” Now Mortar’s eyes were the ones that became piercing. “Yes, he did that. But he did not want her to die.” Zero blinked, somewhat aware of where this was going, but still too overwhelmed to dwell on anything but whatever came first to his mind. “What? Did he expect it to TICKLE her?! Was it just a joke? Shooting people in the head generally means you want to kill them!” Zero realized with an unsettling jolt that he was very quickly losing his composition. If he wasn’t careful, the Maverick would walk all over him. “The one who killed Mea,” Mortar went on without changing his tone of voice, though his eyes conveyed complete seriousness that Zero, in his trance, couldn’t help but believe, “is no longer with us. His name was Timofey Komanov.” Zero leaned back even further, allowing the explanation to sink into place. “How could Komanov have killed Mea…?” Mortar frowned. He’d dazed Zero even more than he’d thought. “Come on, you know what I mean. The week before your Olympiad, Timofey Komanov forced the man in dark armor to kill Mea with a sniper’s bullet. The man you think so ruthlessly killed your friend was nothing more than a pawn. The real killer was sitting behind a desk and choking on a cigar.” Zero sucked in a deep breath, turning the information over in his head. “Komanov was an army man…he had nothing to do with the Hunters. Why would he…? And why her? She didn’t do anything wrong.” “No one did,” said Mortar darkly, “They just existed, and they were killed for it.” “By who?” Zero asked next, getting his questions all mixed up and out of order but not caring. “We pulled the triggers,” Mortar said with a shrug. “But they are the murderers.” “’We’, ‘they’, be more specific, already!” Zero snapped, an edge of hostility returning to his voice, though he was still sufficiently hooked, Mortar saw. “Humans hate Reploids,” said Mortar, and just as Zero thought the old man was about to launch into the worn out Maverick dogma about human inferiorities and evils, he stopped him cold, “and Reploids hate humans. The only difference is, the Reploids are justified in their hatred. You know how the human mind works, Zero. They fear the unknown. We do, too, because we are made in their image.” “Stop beating around the bush,” Zero said, with none of the forcefulness he’d intended, “Who and what are you talking about?” Mortar paused briefly, himself very nervous all of a sudden. All his life he’d wanted to tell some Hunter about all this stuff, because aside from killing the guilty party themselves, this was the only way to get revenge. Until now he’d never thought it possible. He had to organize his story well so Zero would believe it. “Fine, I’ll start from the beginning…” Mortar shifted in his creaky way until he got comfortable. Zero unconsciously did the same. “The Maverick Hunters were in existence long before the first Reploid War began, as you know. At first, they started out as just a peacekeeping force. But then more Reploids started signing on, and more Mavericks started turning up. The organization got bigger.” I know, Zero wanted to say, This is obvious, tell me what I really want to know. But he said nothing. He just listened. “You were governed over by political leaders and the Megacity 5 army that put you together in the first place,” Mortar continued. “Most of the soldiers didn’t have much to do with the politicians, so no one really paid any attention to what the humans told you to do. After all, Reploids had not yet tried to assert their independence yet. “But Reploids are so much stronger than humans. You cannot argue with that. We are made of metal, we have built in weapon systems, and we repair our damaged systems faster than any human immune system can. We are physically superior to them in every way. “Human nature is to fear…fear is the first step on the long road to hate.” Mortar’s voice took on a nasty edge. “The government that led the Maverick Hunter organization was very mistrusting of the Reploid race. They saw them as the replacements for humans, and so they feared them. Perhaps they knew in advance what people like Sigma would think…they made the connection early that if you persecute a group enough, they WILL rebel.” Zero found himself agreeing with Mortar on that issue, and it scared him. “However,” the old Reploid went on in his icy tone, “not all Reploids posed sufficient power to be considered national threats…” “National threats?!” Zero barked suddenly, “How could they think that? They had no evidence for that at all!” “Good to see you agree with me,” Mortar said dryly, and Zero felt vaguely like he’d fallen into a trap. “Since not all Reploids were threats, not all of them needed to die.” A knot tightened like a vice in Zero’s stomach, and he knew exactly what Mortar was going to say next. The first thing that popped into his head had been ‘They wanted to kill us all?’ But then he’d seen the subliminal message, which was, ‘Strong Reploids needed to die before they could become a threat.’ Seeing that Zero was finally understanding, Mortar went on in a more gentle tone, as though trying to ease the truth along. “A force was put together by the army of Megacity 5. This force was unsanctioned by the rest of the government and conducted in secret by the humans who were most violently against populating the world with Reploids…meaning, pretty much everybody was on this coalition.” Mortar pressed his fist into his palm before continuing. “I’m sure you know what machine haters are.” Zero did. The human version of a Maverick was a machine hater. Just as Mavericks wanted to torture and kill all humans, machine haters wanted to do the same to all Reploids. To his slight discomfort, Zero knew that he and every Reploid on the Hunter force privately hated any human machine hater more than they did any Maverick, Sigma included. “Good, you do know…this secret force was given the code name ‘Terrornova’. I don’t know where the name came from, either… It was composed of a group of soldiers and the commanders that gave them their missions. The mission was always to assassinate a powerful Reploid, and the leaders of the program included Peter Thornton and Timofey Komanov.” Zero’s mind went spinning again. Two recently murdered men were part of a secret force that killed powerful Reploids, and they had been responsible for killing Mea…it still wasn’t any easier for him to accept. “But why…” Zero started, and then had to find his voice again before going ahead with the question he chose. “Why do you know all this? What does this have to do with you, and the sniper at the Olympiad…?” Though the answers came as he spoke. “Usually…” Mortar went on, “The machine haters would do the dirty work themselves.” His eyes narrowed and became even frostier, if that was possible. “But not Terrornova. They delivered the ultimate blow by not only assassinating any Reploid that might challenge human power, but by forcing their fellow Reploids to do it.” The harshness of Mortar’s voice cut through the haze around Zero’s mind. “So you’re saying…” “Yes,” Mortar finished, “The human race virtually enslaved a large team of Reploids and forced them to murder powerful HUNTERS. Not Mavericks, but the Hunters, who had placed their trust in the humans, and vowed to defend them.” Zero didn’t know which realization was worse; Mortar confronting him about Mea or knowledge that she had been killed by the humans he had died once to protect. He sat back again, lost in another cloud of thought, though he managed to decide on another question. “The Reploid assassins…they just…took this sitting down? They didn’t rise up against the humans?” “So now you’re condoning Maverick behavior, hmm?” Mortar couldn’t help a grin, even though Zero was none too amused. “I was one of the Terrornova assassins. That’s why I know so much, and I can tell you, there was a revolt.” The grin died quickly, and was replaced by something Zero could only imagine was pain mixed with frustration. He could relate to that. “They made all the soldiers watch. We all saw our comrades get literally ripped apart. That was the price for rebelling, and frankly, no one was going to risk that.” “So you preferred to live life killing against your will?” “Life, Zero, is very precious to a young Reploid, as I’m sure you know.” Mortar fixed him with a knowing look. “You didn’t self-destruct that time without passing through some kind of depression, no matter now brief.” He was right and Zero hated him for it. “You did what we couldn’t do. But you had a quick way out. What did we have to look forward to? And then what if we did succeed in rebelling? We’d exist as Mavericks, and the Hunters would track us down. We had no choice. Living conditions were horrible, and they certainly weren’t above torturing soldiers when they made mistakes.” Mortar had to stop and check his voice to make sure the hatred dripping from it didn’t choke up his speech. “But we did it, because we didn’t want to die. That’s why Malevex shot Mea, and Komanov made it happen because Mea was just slightly stronger than the rest of you.” So much information… Zero’s mind went into sorting mode yet again. So the man at the quarry was named “Malevex”, hmm… Aside from that, the first thing he noticed was the horrible injustice of it all, and he was more focused on Mea than the plight of the Terrornova soldiers. His first real friend had been a kind, warm-hearted girl who’d offered her services to humans to help control the Maverick riots. But, she had had to die because she was a good soldier? Because the humans she had sworn to protect decided she was too dangerous to be allowed life? And then he came to the Terrornova soldiers. No matter how hard he tried not to, he could see it happening. And no, he would not have done anything differently…life WAS precious to a young Reploid. But Mortar was still not done. “Yes, it was a horrible thing. But then, internal conflicts in the government forced the Terrornova commanders to turn their attention back to politics. We were more or less buried away from the world until they needed us again. “And that is where the ultimate irony falls,” Mortar said with a cruel grin. “While they dealt with their pithy political problems, Terrornova, which had never failed to complete a mission, was unable to kill the greatest threat the human race ever faced.” Zero’s face went ashen. “Sigma…” he breathed in a hoarse whisper. “Indeed,” Mortar said in a tone Zero could not decipher, “We had never moved on him before, because the humans thought he had a foolproof program. Cain insisted that Sigma would never rebel, and the humans believed them. It serves them right… Sigma rose to power and left the Hunter ranks without being so much as scratched by us. This is where the Hunter involvement ends…the rest is strictly about our fellow Reploids.” “You mean,” Zero added, his mind starting to catch up with Mortar’s at last, “Now they actually NEEDED to have powerful Reploids.” Mortar blinked, and then cracked a grin. “You’re perceptive, Zero. I really hadn’t expected that…but yes, now they needed strong Reploids. Therefore, they had no use for Terrornova.” Then Mortar paused, and for a second Zero thought the story was over. However, a full minute later, Mortar started up again, and to Zero, it was like a whole new person was talking. The Maverick’s voice was heavy and unforgiving, but it had lost a great deal of the harshness and slight lecturing tone it had possessed earlier. “But they had quite a big problem now, didn’t they?” “Meaning?” “Maybe not as perceptive as I thought…think about it. Sigma was gathering an army of the most powerful Reploids in the world to slaughter the human race. Skilled as Terrornova was, our numbers were few. They had no use for us, but they could not let us go. The Maverick Hunters, which was the only army large enough to combat Sigma, was composed mainly of Reploids…you can imagine how quickly they’d have dropped out if they heard what had been going on to control their power like that.” This meant two things to Zero, and both were hard slaps in the face. One, if Mortar was right, then he had a point. Zero would have quit the Hunters on the spot if he’d learned that humans were behind Mea’s death. Two, he WOULD have quit, and so would many others, and that indicated how dangerous this information was then AND was now. It could well be that none of this was true, he realized with a slightly relieved feeling, and Mortar was just trying to destabilize the Hunters. But he had to investigate anyway, and he had to be damn careful about how he did it. This information, if leaked, could kill the Maverick Hunter organization. “So what did they do?” “Well,” Mortar went on in an even heavier tone, “They killed us.” Zero blinked. “But you’re still here.” “You of all people should know the foolishness of that statement, Zero.” Again, he was right and Zero really hated him for it. “But you’re right…they TRIED to kill all of us. They politely called it a ‘purge’. However something went wrong, and they didn’t kill us all in one spot as they intended to. We scattered. The human government panicked considerably, and while you Hunters and Mavericks fought each other in the first Reploid War, the survivors of the Terrornova purge were running around fleeing from the assassins that the humans were sending after us. While we were certainly better at the work of killing than they were, what with all the practice we’d had, we were still out of our league…plus they had HIM.” Something about the way Mortar had said ‘him’, mainly the fact that it was surprising that boiling hot acid wasn’t dripping from the man’s lips, put Zero heavily off guard. He’d never even heard X refer to Sigma so venomously. “Excuse me…?” Mortar looked furious with himself. “He’s gone, now…” he said gruffly, “I refuse to speak his name, not now, not ever. There has never been, nor ever will there be a greater demon than that man. But he’s gone, so it doesn’t matter.” At least, Mortar thought, I HOPE he’s gone. “But anyway…the purge was never fully completed, despite their advantages. Those that could flee Megacity 5 did. Those who didn’t were killed, without ever getting a chance to live.” Mortar’s voice solidified and he looked up to Zero, as though wondering if he’d left anything out. “So…” Zero summarized, “You, and the sniper from all those years ago are survivors of a long dead conspiracy to control the power of Reploids.” “Among others,” Mortar said airily, “yes, we are the survivors.” Just how many survivors were there? “But, please do not delude yourself,” Mortar went on. “Terrornova is no more dead than you or I.” “What are you talking about? These people are still doing this?” “Of course not,” Mortar said in surprise, “They can’t risk losing your support now, can they?” By this time, Zero had already recovered from the shock Mortar had put him in earlier, and was now debating how much of this could be serious, and how much could be the ramblings of an old man. The possibility certainly wasn’t out of the question, but Zero was really pretty scared to believe that people would be so thoughtless of everything he and the other Hunters had done to keep the human race alive this far. “Humans didn’t think we could coexist back then,” Zero said firmly, “They owe us everything, now. Once the Mavericks throw down their arms, once these damned wars stop, then no one will have to worry any more.” To his surprise and annoyance, Mortar laughed at him. “That’s a very generous belief, Zero. Do you really think that is true? Do you ever really think we can coexist? So what if Sigma is eradicated forever, and the Mavericks are forced into nonexistence! What then?! We’ll just be competing with the humans for our rights and our liberties! You see how they step on Reploid rights now, never allowing you to be as powerful as humans!” Then Mortar spoke the words that would haunt every bit of Zero’s being for the next five years of the crimson warrior’s life. “Even if you don’t believe a word of what I’ve told you so far here, this much even you, a Hunter, KNOW is true: after a threat like Sigma, do you really think the humans will ever allow such a powerful Reploid to emerge ever again?” Zero was stopped cold once again. Try as he might, he could find nothing to counter with. Sure, he and all the other smart Reploids knew that there would be an ‘after the wars’, and while they’d all looked towards it with some mistrust, they fully expected themselves to be able to throw down their arms and live in peace, even if the humans didn’t feel totally comfortable around them. However the thought that humans would try to kill them all off had never occurred…why not? It seemed so…on target. Why WOULD they risk someone else like Sigma emerging? Somewhere deep inside him, he felt an icy tendril of dread build up as he remembered the rumors floating around after Repliforce fell…rumors that said Zero was too unstable to be trusted. Even though the rumors were started by his enemies, they were still unsettling with this realization. The worst part was, even if everything Mortar had said thus far was a lie, this bit was logically true. There was nothing that would ever change that. Mortar leaned back in his chair as though completely settled. “And that, Hunter, is why I am a Maverick. That is why the deaths of Thornton and Komanov are cheered in this building. I have no regrets; I had all my regrets when I was a Hunter.” Zero’s eyes narrowed. He had no idea what to do now. Mortar obviously thought he was done for. Zero would have thought the same thing, actually, but was he supposed to kill him? No, he’d take him back to the HQ… As though he could read minds, Mortar smiled slowly. “I’ll not be going to the Hunter Headquarters, Zero. I’ll never set foot in there again, I made that vow a long time ago.” “That’s very nice, but I didn’t give you that option,” Zero said as he got to his feet, “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’m going to need to talk to you again, that’s for sure. Can’t have you getting away now, can I?” Mortar didn’t move. “You misunderstood me. I will not walk into that building alive.” “You’d prefer me to kill you?” “Please do. This way, you won’t have to worry about your perfect little organization falling apart because of what I know. It’ll be easier for you, trust me. Either way…this is where I stay.” Zero was very frustrated. He could overpower this man any day, but he figured Mortar’d kill himself somehow. He knew deep down that this man really would never return to MHHQ. If he had been telling the truth, how could he be blamed? However, the problem was soon not so graciously lifted from Zero’s shoulders when the house started to rumble. Zero’s eyes shot to meet Mortar’s, to ask silently if the old man was trying to destroy the place, but the confusion on Mortar’s face told otherwise. What was going on? Boris stepped back in horrified shock. This wasn’t supposed to happen!!! It was supposed to have a fuse, so he would have time to get away! It wasn’t supposed to go off yet! So why was it reacting now? Why was it- The thoughts raced through Boris’s head in a second, and a second later the thug was vaporized by his own bomb, which tore a flaming hole through Mortar’s shop and brought Delates running towards it. Unbeknownst to the Hunter, Diavus was well ahead of him. Zero had no idea what happened. He had inadvertently put himself in front of Mortar as the entire sidewall of the shop blew in towards them in a terrific explosion, and then it seemed as though a truck had driven into him. The Hunter crumpled into an agonized heap and, ears ringing, eyes clouding, he managed to make out Mortar being escorted away by the same Maverick he’d seen barge in earlier. He tried to stretch out an arm in protest but his strength failed him. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Delates charged through the remains of the shop, making out the silhouettes of two Reploids escaping through the flames. He started to charge after them, but one, who turned out to be the sniper he’d been looking for all this time, raised his rifle and fired behind him, clipping Delates in the leg. The Hunter fell to his knees in pain, unable to give chase. He limped after them as they sped off, even though the other one, who seemed rather old, wasn’t covering ground easily. Delates let out a mighty curse, but it died when he heard a moan from behind him. He turned and, through the dying flames, made out his commander, covered under the rubble that had once been a wall. “Sir…?!” Delates rushed up to him, trying to shake him awake. “Zero, sir! Can you hear me…? Zero!” Far above the chaos in the slums, the clouds parted to make way for a massive floating ship. It was sleek, silver, and adorned with all forms of sharp, intimidating designs, usually formed of the same flowing silver titanium that made up the ship’s outer hull. No less than ten cannon turrets were positioned at different points of the ship, and many hidden missile bays had to be lurking somewhere, too. As the government ship, Icarus, sliced through the sky, the soldiers inside scuttled about their by now boring duties, wondering when their commander was going to allow them to go back to solid ground. The commander had been very nervous, lately, as though he expected something to leap out of the shadows and kill him at any minute. Nestled away in the vacant central chamber of the ship, Colonel Kitao certainly felt he had reason to be nervous. He paced about the room, lost in thought, with his hand cupped around his chin and a finger tapping absently against his cheek. Such a decision he’d made…was it the right one? Now that Thornton and Komanov were dead, he and General Virdelko were the only old commanders of the Terrornova program that were still alive. Since it certainly looked like survivors of the purge were trying to get revenge on their old commanders, Kitao refused to go down to the ground where he might be a target. Virdelko, safely nestled away in an undisclosed city, had ordered him to stand idle and let the whole thing blow over. Kitao had been furious at his superior’s lack of concern for the severity of the situation, and had called together the best soldiers he could find to begin a very secret mission. Human soldiers, of course, he would never bother with Reploids again. But he’d acted in haste. The more he thought of it, the more Virdelko knew what he was doing. With Sigma dead, it would only be a matter of time before the Hunters stamped the Mavericks out of power again. The enemy Reploids would be destroyed by the Hunters, and Kitao’s people wouldn’t have to get their hands dirty. So, he’d called off the troops he’d dispatched, which hadn’t exactly gone over well with them. “Nothing I could do about it…” he grumped to no one in particular, “they have no idea how sticky this is…” “Talking to yourself again, sir?” The new voice was smooth, deep, and as calculating as could be imagined. From the shadows of a northern doorway, a tall, well built man in a flowing black trench coat strode casually into the room, pacing slowly and enjoying the look of anger on Kitao’s face. The man wiped a few locks of very black hair out of his equally dark eyes as he came into the light to meet the colonel’s gaze. If you hadn’t known better, there was almost no way to tell he was a Reploid. “Filthy habit, really.” “You shut up,” Kitao hissed, stopping cold and whirling on the Reploid, “I am not in the mood.” “Oh, fancy that, he’s not in the mood…” the shadowy man shook his head as he addressed his superior with mock disapproval. “You’re never in a mood to do anything except shout, I’m afraid. One of these days your voice box is going to explode, and you better not come crying to me when it does.” Something about the arrogance in the man’s voice always managed to make Kitao enter a fouler mood than any he had been in previously, and this time was no exception. “I don’t know why I put up with you, Chartreuse,” Kitao said in a low tone, forcing himself to be civil. “I’d think you’d be a little more respectful, considering all we’ve done for you…” Chartreuse, which was an odd name for him since there was none of that color on him, crossed his arms over his chest and continued on in a lazy tone. “Yes, you’ve done a lot, sir, and I’m very grateful, but I’m afraid I don’t understand this time.” The Reploid fixed Kitao with a look that wasn’t exactly piercing, but still served to unnerve the human. “Why did you chicken out?” Kitao’s nostrils flared. “This would have been a pointless mission, Chartreuse. You know that.” “Not so, not so…” It was his turn to pace now, moving around the stationary Kitao while speaking in his perfect, knowing tone. “I killed them once, you know…what makes you think I couldn’t do it again?” “You failed,” said Kitao, not moving, “You didn’t kill them all.” “I slaughtered every last one I could get my hands on,” Chartreuse replied, not stopping, “Perhaps one got away, but that’s to be expected, what with the failure of an operation you had set up for the original purge…” “It wasn’t our fault they got away,” Kitao snapped. “Nor was it mine,” Chartreuse said in a voice with none of Kitao’s harshness, but all of its impact. “But I did a pretty good job rounding up the ones you missed, eh? You don’t think I can do it again, sir?” Kitao turned to look his subordinate in the eye. Ordinarily, he would never have put up with such a loathsome Reploid-or any Reploid, period-as Chartreuse was, but this one was special in his own way. Chartreuse loved chaos. It didn’t matter which side he was on, but he loved causing chaos and disorder, and the man never seemed to be happy unless blood was on his hands. He was a weapon, one that had to be controlled, but one that was unbelievably efficient when unleashed. The constant wave of opportunities that Kitao’s people presented Chartreuse kept him loyal to them, to a point, but while Kitao was sure Chartreuse appreciated the danger of being surrounded by humans who hated his kind, he wasn’t sure it frightened Chartreuse at all. “Keep still, Chartreuse, just a little longer. This is but a meager battle…your war is yet to come.” “Excuse me…?” the Reploid asked with a curving eyebrow. “You’ll see,” Kitao said, allowing a cold smirk to creep over his face. “We’re gone for now. Our battle is over. From this moment on, it is merely the Maverick Hunters versus the Mavericks led by our old friends from Terrornova. But mark my words, we’re not going anywhere far.” The cold grin grew even chillier. “Once the Maverick threat is gone…and it won’t be long, you know that…then, Chartreuse, that is when the real war will start. But for now, let’s just let them kill each other off. I say again, it won’t take long.”