Some friends asked to have this reposted. So here you go.
 As always C&C is appreciated.
Mahalo.

We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of the dream.
-W. Wonka



Steel gray clouds scuttled in groups across the sky allowing the starlight
to occasionally peak through. A bitterly cold breeze, with the smell of
promised snow, whipped through the tops of the trees and stirred the fallen
leaves on the path as a lone figure strode across the Michigan State campus.
His stride proclaimed him no stranger to this kind of weather, although his
tan mentioned that he hadn't seen it for a while. He was in his early
twenties, wearing a military camouflage coat, with all insignia carefully
cut off, covering a black turtle neck sweater, gray jeans, and black gloves.
Home! God! It feels good to home again. Four years in the Air Force was long
enough, in fact too long. Not that he complained about his assignment
location. Most people would give a lot to live in Hawaii for a few years but
after a while you begin to miss the changing of the seasons.

At this time of night the usually busy campus was silent. Just a few science
buildings shining a few forlorn lights into the darkness as research
students worked late into the night. He quickened his pace as he walked
across the campus towards his meeting. Tonight was going to be something
special. He'd waited for this night for weeks. Tonight was when he would
find out what happened to Tenchi. The last episode had left off in something
of a cliffhanger. Somewhere along the line he stepped over that fine line
between casual interest and true Otakudom. Who else would walk through an
incipient blizzard to watch an OAV he could have borrowed tomorrow? Smiling
to himself, he answered his own question. No one, that's who. At least he
wasn't alone. His fellow addicts would be also be at the meeting tonight.
Just past the hi-energy research building and across the field and he could
warm up. Hmm. .So there is something to say for an eternal summer he thought
ruefully. If he cut through the lab he should be able to warm up a little
before walking across the field.

Opening the door he walked into the building. A flickering light shone from
the open door down the hallway as he walked through. Probably someone up
late finishing a report. As he walked past the door he looked inside just in
time to see a metallic tube break free from a complicated assembly and point
towards him. A wave like thunder without sound washed over him as the world
turned briefly electric white and then pitch black. As awareness faded a
last thought shot across his mind. I wonder if this is what Tenchi felt
like.......



Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

MegaTokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View"

Chapter One-Beginnings

Copyright (c) 1997 Charles S. Stitman

Guyveriv@lava.net



A panoramic window looked out over a sprawling metropolis. A tall,
steel-eyed man with a face of chiseled stone wearing a white suit sat
watching over "HIS" city as Mason gave his daily report. <"..he should be
able to procure it as soon as its initial programming is completed."> The
phone rang, and interrupted Mason. The black hared assistant handed the
phone to the Chairman and backed off to a respectful distance.

Keeping half an ear on the telephone conversation the young Japanese man
continued to think about his report and the problem at hand. The trick would
not be in getting the uplink device but in making sure that HE also got a
copy of the technical specifications. And what was he going to do about that
bitch Madigan? She was getting entirely to close to him. If she digs up any
of the details of project Lazarus he could be in real trouble. Hmm...Her
little project is coming up for review. He smiled at the thought. She
thought that was the cutting edge of boomer technology. Still if he could
make that go badly enough it might slow her down long enough for him to
better establish his position. Part of his mind noted that the telephone
conversation was coming to an end and closed off the scheming for now.
<"...if you show us your support we can guarantee the Prime Minister's
position."> As much as Mason hated to admit it, the old man was good.
<"Yes...You can count on it rest assured."> The Chairman finished his
conversation and handed the phone back to his assistant. Mason took the
phone and placed it in the cradle. Leaning back the Chairman fixed his gaze
solidly upon his assistant. Quincy waved for him to continue. Mason thought
for a moment and picked up where he had left off. <"Regarding the collection
you desired. My men have just acquired it from USSD."> He was proud of the
snatch; it had gone off without a hitch.

Quincy closed his eyes. <"I wanted that item for the further expansion of
GENOM Enterprises. This is an extremely important collection. Handle it with
care.">

Mason was affronted. He always handled projects with care. People who didn't
tended to disappear in GENOM. <"I believe I can make it available to you
within 24 hours sir."> That should give him time to analyze it and still
have enough time to install it in the Super-Boomer.

Quincy opened his eyes and looked at his subordinate. <"Mason, I'll leave it
up to you. But don't forget the GENOM is a respectable company. It would be
unfortunate if our name were to surface even slightly.">

Mason excepted the warning calmly. It was standard. <"Yes Sir. Consider it
done.">

With a casual wave of his hand Quincy dismissed the young man. As his
black-haired assistant neared the door. Quincy added, <"Send in Madigan on
your way out">

Stifling a snarl Mason nodded his acceptance of the order and continued
through the door controlling the desire to slam it as he left. He had to do
something soon!



Quincy turned towards the window and resumed his thinking. Mason was coming
along nicely. Using Madigan as a prod was turning out to be an even better
idea than he had thought it would be. Soon Mason would become truly
paranoid. At that point his usefulness to the company would be greatly
expanded. Unless, he admitted to himself, it drives Mason over the edge. But
if that happened he would still have Madigan waiting in the wings to replace
Mason. First rule, always keep a backup plan handy. He smiled to himself. A
knock sounded from the door at the end of the office. Ah, Madigan. <"Enter">

As Madigan stepped into the room the light began to flicker. Quincy frowned
slightly. Madigan paled. When the Chairman frowned it usually meant
someone's life was about to be ruined....or shortly ended.

<"Madigan find out what's causing this and..">

Quincy got no further. With a bright flare of light and a sensation like
silent thunder a body and a strangely curved chunk of cement materialized
below the ceiling and fell to the floor.

Madigan sank abruptly to the floor as her mind dealt with what she saw.
Quincy decided that the still figure posed no threat and dismissed the
security boomers that had broken in when the intruder alarm had activated.
Quincy looked over the still figure and then over at Madigan. She slowly
straightened and collected herself. The Chairman gave a small nod. Good, not
too shaken. Mason would have done better. But still not too bad. <"Madigan,
Leave the briefing of your project on my desk and take care of this.">
Quincy turned his back on the room and resumed his thoughts. In his opinion
nothing more needed to be said. She would find out what had caused this as
quickly as if he had directly ordered her to. Madigan was no fool.

Madigan was stunned. This person had dropped into the Chairman's office out
of nowhere. The Chairman seemed unconcerned about it. But the implications
were frightening. Throwing off her feelings, she gave the orders that would
insure that they found out where he was from and how he had gotten here.
After the boomers had finished clearing the mess. She made sure that the
room was spotless before leaving. If she had looked at Quincy's reflection
in the glass she might have seen the Chairman's small smile beneath his cold
eyes.



Slowly the outside world began to reestablish itself. He felt something flat
and soft underneath him. Somewhere there was a voice talking to him. Not the
worst sign. At least there was still a him in existence to hear it.

<"How are you?">

He opened his eyes and groaned as the light stabbed spears though his eyes
and into his brain. Beyond the headache that would have had Beelzebub asking
for mercy there was something odd here.

<"Can you hear me?">

Why would an American nurse be speaking in Japanese? Luckily she was keeping
the sentences simple. If they had been too much more complex he wouldn't
have understood them at all.

<"Give him a moment he's still coming around.">

Huh? Another voice. Saying something too quickly and too complex to be
understood. Well time to try opening his eyes again. The light that stabbed
in this time was bearable. Blinking back tears he sat up. Obviously a
hospital of some kind. Two nurses, one doctor and an angry looking man in an
immaculate business suit.

<"Are you all right?">

<"I think so. However, please to speak English. My Japanese isn't very
good.">

"You're American!?" the suit spoke for the first time.

He decided to ignore the look in the suit's eyes. "Yeah, Where am I?"

"You are in Tokyo General Hospital."

"Tokyo!? How the hell did I wind up in Tokyo!?"

The doctor looked distressed and motioned the suit to go easy on his
patient. The suit returned the look with one that carried a threat behind it
and visibly tried to relax. If this line of questioning didn't work he had
orders to try other things. Someone wanted answers and wasn't concerned with
how they got them.

"Patience," he soothed. "You've been in an accident and been unconscious for
two days."

"Oh," Charles lay back absorbing that.

"You don't remember how you got here?"

"No, the last thing I remember was walking through the high-energy research
lab at Michigan State University. A bright light then poof. Here I am,"
Charles couldn't quite keep the animosity he was beginning to feel for this
man out of his voice.

The suit didn't look very convinced. "Charles S. Stitman. We found your
wallet and ID would you care to explain them?"

"What's to explain?" Charles asked testily. "If you've got my ID you should
have been able to find out everything you needed to know."

The suit consulted a clipboard. "According to your ID you were born on July
17, 1971 is that right?"

"Yeah," Charles answered carefully.

"And how old are you now?" This question seemed to have teeth.

"What is this? A joke? Do the math! I'm twenty-four," Chaz had had enough of
the dog and pony show. If this guy wanted answers why didn't he just ask
direct questions?

The suit turned to the doctor and nurses. <"Get out. I'll let you know when
you can come back in again.">

Fright flickered across their faces and they looked with concern at their
patient.

<"He'll be fine for now. I just need some privacy,"> the suit assured them.

Charles hadn't missed the looks on the doctor's and nurses' faces and was
feeling a little more wary.

"Mr. Charles.." the suit began.



"Stitman," Charles corrected absently. "Chaz to my friends." Which you
obviously don't count as.

The suit visibly restrained himself. "Mr. Stitman, it's you who can't do the
math. If you were born when all your ID says you were you would now be 61
years old," he paused to let this sink in. "So now that we have established
that. Perhaps you would be so good as to tell us who you are really working
for."

Chaz just sat there staggered by what he had just heard. A half-coherent
thought ambled across his mind, I don't think I'm going to able to get to
see the rest of Tenchi after all. "I don't know what to say," He finally
managed.

"In case you're wondering we did check you ID on the off chance it was
authentic," the suit raised an eyebrow. "Pretty impressive actually. While
the paper, plastic, markings and picture were all authentic in every detail.
We couldn't find so much as a trace of you in anybody's computers including
the US's and we were very thorough."

"But that's impossible! I was in the military for years!" Chaz yelled.

The suit began to take an interest and jotted a note on his clipboard.

Oblivious, Chaz continued to rave, "I have family in Michigan! I can tell
you anything about them!"

The suit stood up. "Mr. Stitman, I will return later. I hope that at that
time you will be willing to tell the truth."

"But I am....telling.....," Chaz's voice died off as he considered the
implications of what the man had told him were. Slowly he rolled over into
the pillow and began to cry.



Outside in the hallway the suit handed over his notes and a copy of the data
recording to a waiting Madigan.

<"What do you think?">

<"It's too soon to tell. If he's a plant someone went to a lot of effort.
Nobody capable of such work would bother. He sticks out like a sore thumb.
If you want my professional opinion I'd say he thinks he's telling the
truth.">

<"Thinks?">

<"Sure. Give someone enough drugs you can convince them of anything.">

<"What about his background">

<"Just like I told the kid. Not a trace anywhere. The only files in
existence on him anywhere are on that disk.">

Madigan looked at the monitor where Chaz was crying into his pillow.
<"Doctor is he fit to travel?">

The doctor startled to be addressed directly stammered, <"Ye. .Yes Miss
Madigan.">

She nodded stiffly. <"Good, give him a sedative to relax him and bring him
to the tower.">

The suit nodded. <"No problem.">



Chaz collected himself. He was still alive after all. Things could be worse.
If he's stuck in the future at least it won't be boring. Who knows what the
world holds these days?

The nurses wheeled in his dinner and he went at the simple fare like a
starving man completely missing the sympathetic looks on the nurses' faces.
Finishing his meal he lay back and relaxed in his bed. Feeling better than
he had since he woke up. A vague uneasiness came up from the back of his
mind. Somewhere he heard a voice saying, "Do the math." With a yawn he
rolled over. Let's see 1971 plus 61 gives 2032. Why does that number sound
familiar? Putting the question aside for later he went to sleep.



Madigan finished her report to the Chairman, <"If he's telling the truth
then he's somehow managed to travel through space and time! If he's not
telling the truth than at the very least someone has come up with a way to
teleport things. It's my recommendation that we keep him under sedation and
interrogate him until we find out everything he knows.">

Quincy pressed his fingertips together and looked at Madigan. <"Why? If he's
telling the truth, and I believe he is, then he probably knows nothing of
the accident that sent him here. If he's not telling the truth then someone
went to a lot of effort to make him interesting to us. In that case they
would certainly have made sure he knew nothing of the process that sent him
here. Either way we would best be served by simply getting rid of him. Once
I heard your initial report I instructed Mason to take care of it.">



Chaz awoke much later. Opening his eyes he tried to stretch his arms only to
find he couldn't move them. Not only did his limbs feel leaden, he was
strapped down! A voice was talking above him but he couldn't decipher the
words. He opened his mouth to speak and found that he couldn't!

"Don't bother trying to talk. We'll be done long before the neural block
wears off," came a voice from somewhere out of sight.

At least someone was talking to him in English. Well if they were going to
try find out if he was telling the truth, they would find that he was and
hopefully at some point let him go. At least he was safe for the moment.

A doctor walked into view and began talking to someone out of his sight
while fastening some kind of device on his temple and around his head.

<"You realize that there is no guarantee this is going to work? The subject
you procured is almost ideal but the process has never been tested on a
human subject.">

The doctor pulled up a needle attached to a complicated assembly of fiber
thin hoses. "Ah Jeez I hate needles," Chaz thought as the doctor stuck a
series of needles into the artery and vein of his neck and one deep into
what felt briefly like his spine before the nerve block covered the pain. He
wondered what that one was for. What about infection?

<"Doctor, For everything there is a first time. In the event that the
process fails nothing has been lost. The Chairman has already ordered me to
dispose of this one. And I'm looking forward to seeing Madigan's face when
she realizes that her special project has disappeared.">

<"What do we do with him if the process succeeds?"> asked the doctor as he
began warming up the machinery attached to the needles.

<"Relax doctor, if the process works then we dispose of him just the same.
Either way the Chairman's orders are carried out and I frustrate Madigan.">
Moreover, if it works you old fool, thought the mind behind the voice, then
I know everything I need to and I can dispose of you at the same time. "Now
then, are you ready to make history Mr. Stitman? Of course you are!"

History? Why would a simple procedure make history? Unless... They were
going to try something experimental on him! Chaz arched his back and fought
against the restraints holding him to the table. To no avail. They had been
thoroughly tightened, he had to give them that. There wasn't so much as an
inch of give in those straps. Slowly the table tilted forward. Finally Chaz
could look upon the face which had been talking to him. Where had he seen
that face before? It looked so damn familiar! Japanese, dark suit slicked
back hair. Damn! Nothing! Behind the face was a HUGE man wearing a tan suit
and dark glasses who also looked familiar. Who...No wrong question. Why
should he recognize these two? Who did he know in 2032 To...kyo. Oh no. This
is NOT happening. He had to get out of here! He frantically renewed his
struggles.

<"Doctor, You may begin at anytime.">

Begin? Whatever he was up to, Chaz definitely did not want him to begin.
Then he felt it. At first he felt the utterly strange sensation of something
cold being forced into his blood stream. Then a kind of buzzing at the edge
of his thoughts. The buzzing spread through his limbs leaving numbness in
its wake. The buzzing started building into an excruciating pain and a
severe disorientation. Chaz tried to scream. The sound emerged as a hoarse
wet choking noise. The world dimmed to black and faded from view. As if from
far away he heard voices.

"Flatline. He's dead," the doctors voice said calmly.

"Did it work?" Mason asked in a flat tone of voice.

"Other than the fact that he's dead I think so. The readings are a little
strange," the doctor replied looking at a computer display.

"In what way?" Mason asked. He was a bit more than curious. This was one of
the only two options open to him. If this one failed he'd have to rely
solely on the other. He hated not having a backup plan available.

"There was an adjustment in the flow as he tried to fight it," the doctor
said absently.

"Will it affect the outcome?" Mason asked with as much casualness as he
could.

"I shouldn't think so. Not much anyway. But if you plan on using one of the
processes I'd advise you to use the other method we tried earlier on the
other subject."

"What happened to that subject?"

"He couldn't handle the change. He went mad." The doctor shrugged, obviously
unconcerned.

Oh. So, it was just a matter of will power then. A slow smile crossed the
face of the young executive. "Thank you doctor. That's all I needed to
hear."

A high pitched whine rang out. Followed by a thud as the doctor's body hit
the ground.

As his hearing died out Chaz heard Brian J. Mason tell his bodyguard to
dispose of all the bodies.



He woke up. No disorientation, no sleepiness, just a sudden alertness. For
the second time in two days he felt glad there was a he there to wake up at
all. Then he looked around. Well maybe not SO glad. He was lying naked on
top of what looked like a scrap metal pile at the bottom of a steel-lined
pit. Well he did say to get rid of the bodies. I wonder how he decided to
get rid of the doctor.

The pile of steel under his feet shook a bit and began to sink farther into
the pit. Somewhere nearby scrap was being melted down and purified for
recycling. He could smell it. The sinking became a sliding as it increased
in speed. He realized what the probable fate was of anybody on top of the
heap when it completed the journey.

His eyes widened and his feet burst into motion. "Whoa! Time to go!" Running
across the scrap, he reached the edge of the pit. Oh Shit. There's no way
out of this thing. He looked up at the steeply sloped wall. Just a seam
where the steel panels had been badly welded together. Maybe I can jam
something in that to make a handhold. He quickly grabbed two pieces of steel
rod from the pile. Jabbing forward as hard as he could he was surprised when
the steel rod went in easily. Humph. Cheap welding job. Surprised it hasn't
fallen apart. He jabbed the other rod in. Using the rods in hand over hand
motion he slowly hauled himself up out of the pit. Standing naked and dirty
at the top, he looked down as the last of the scrap dropped into the laser
and liquid nitrogen fragmentator. The steel, suddenly subjected to extreme
temperature shock, shattered like plate glass. Ouch. That would have been
painful. Chaz looked up at the slowly darkening sky. Mason, you are going to
pay for this. Somehow that idea seemed remote. First he had better find some
clothes.



After scrounging around the automated recycling center for an hour and a
half, he finally found a set of worker's overalls hanging in a locker. A
little small, but livable. Shoes were a bit of a problem but he'd always had
tough feet anyway. He chuckled at that. Shoes a problem. Stuck in Mega-Tokyo
in 2032, Mason had already tried to kill him once and he thought shoes are a
problem. Oh God! At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor.

A sudden huge flare of light made him focus his attention on the bay to the
West. In the fading glow he could see large volumes of smoke pouring from a
huge docking facility. A facility which seemed to be self-destructing and
falling into the sea. Probably Aqua-City. Well that placed the time for him
anyway. Sometime in the next couple days GENOM would recover the Black-Box
and Irene would be killed by one of the razor dolls. Perfect, just perfect.
Well at least he had a few months before Largo would become a problem. Maybe
he could try to warn the Knight Sabers. Yeah, Right. No one in their right
mind would believe the story he would tell. On the other hand he didn't have
much to lose in the attempt. Chaz stood up and began to walk into the city.

As he walked into the city he got another shock. Most of the sign were in
kanji. Not strange in itself. However, he could understand them! His
Japanese had always been mediocre at best. Now it seemed he could read it
fluently. Mason! What had that bastard been up to!? Well, it would make
things easier anyway. He shrugged and continued walking. The city was
confusing enough without having to worry about understanding the language.
The big worry though was what else had Mason been playing with? The face he
saw in the window reflection was the same one he'd been shaving since he was
fifteen. His body looked a little larger than normal but part of that was
probably from the too small overalls. Nothing he could do about it now.



He looked around. That should do nicely. He walked into the police box. The
female cop on duty waved at a chair next to her desk while she finished
doing something with her computer. Silver hair? Surely not natural. Not with
that face. Colored hair must be a fad these days. Waiting patiently until
she had finished, he asked for directions to Ginza. The female cop on duty
didn't seem to notice the question at first. She just sat there looking at
him dreamily. Chaz looked behind him. Nope, no one there. What was it about
her eyes? The color was right but… he couldn't place his finger on how he
knew but one of her eyes was artificial he was sure of it.

Pushing the errant thought from his mind, he tried again, "Ah, excuse me
miss, could you tell me how to get to Ginza?"

She blinked then blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

"Not a problem. My directions?"

"Ginza?" she looked down at his bare feet. "How are you going to get there?"

"Huh?" he grinned ruefully. "It looks like I'm going to have to walk."

"From here!?" she exclaimed "That would take you all day!"

Oh great. I would have to be on the wrong side of the city. "That's all
right, I don't mind the walk," he lied gamely.

She looked up at him shyly. "If you're willing to wait for a couple of hours
I can take you there on my lunch break."

"I don't want to impose," he demurred. PLEASE don't let her change her mind.

"No No. It would be my pleasure. My name's Iris. I mean Sergeant Iris Cara."

"Chaz. Nice to meet you." He bowed formally. "It wouldn't be going to far to
say that you are the best thing to happen to me today," Considering how my
day's going.

Iris blushed again. "I have to make my rounds now, but I'll be back in a
couple of hours. If you could come back then. I'll be able to take you."

"Thank you," Chaz accepted politely.

As he walked out she gave him a nice smile. Smiling automatically in return,
he shut the door behind him. That's odd. He looked at his reflection in a
window. Nope, still the same ugly mug I was born with. I wonder if she's
that forward with every guy she meets? She didn't seem the type. Putting the
question aside, he turned to the business at hand. What to do for the next
couple of hours? Walking down the street he paused before an electronics
store. On the large flat screen TV in the window a large, balding man in a
military uniform was finishing an apologetic speech and promising a prompt
inquiry. Riiight. He'd forgotten that USSD had wound up holding the bag for
the Aqua-City fiasco. He walked around the area, ignoring the stares of the
residents, until it was time to meet Darlene. After a couple hours he saw
her car pull back into the drive.

"Ready to go?" she called from inside as she unlocked the door.

"Sure. Thanks again. I really appreciate the ride," he said as he buckled
himself in.

"You could pay me back by letting me buy you lunch," she said quickly.

Huh? Where did that come from? He smiled a little. "I couldn't turn that
offer down if I wanted to."

"Come on then. I know a great little sandwich place," she said as she pulled
out of the driveway.



She was right about the sandwiches. They were delicious. A hot pastrami on
rye. Pure bliss. They made small talk until it was time for her to go back
to work. She turned as he opened her door. "Listen. If you need any help
getting settled don't hesitate to give me a call," she said handing him her
card. "Maybe even if you don't need help," she said with a slight grin.

"Thanks I will," Chaz said working hard to control his blush. He felt a
little guilty about the story he told her. It couldn't be helped.

Still smiling she shut the door and drove off.

Pocketing the card. Chaz walked down the street. If he remembered the street
map he'd once seen in Animage then Sylia's shop should be around here
somewhere. Ah! There it was. Building 633, Silky Doll Enterprises. Taking a
deep breath he opened the door and walked in.



Timing is everything, he thought. If he could have picked a time to arrive,
this would have been it. Nene was holding a pair of silk panties in one hand
and trying without much success to hide a piece of paper in the other. Linna
and Sylia were both giving her the evil eye, much to Nene's embarrassment.
Listening in, he could hear Linna commenting on Nene's choice.

"Honestly. You know your waist is at least two centimeters larger than
that," Linna chided.

Chuckling, Chaz strode casually over to the counter. Both Nene and Linna
immediately moved away and returned to their shopping. Sylia looked Chaz up
and down for a moment.

"May I help you?" she asked, obviously unimpressed by his attire.

Hmm...Now that he was here he didn't have the slightest idea what to say. If
he just came out and told her what he knew, they probably wouldn't handle it
well. But it was the only card he had to play. I'll have to be subtle, he
decided. "I'm looking for something special," he replied carefully.

Her smile seemed a little strained. "Most people in this shop are. Could you
be more specific?" her tone implied he'd better get the point quickly.

So much for subtle. He smiled. "I'm looking for some night wear for four
beautiful ladies."

Sylia frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

Chaz put on a show of trying to think. "Well, the four women aren't built
all alike. So I'll need something in white for a woman about your size,
something in pink for a woman about the size of that girl over there..,"
Chaz waved absently at Nene, "...something in green for a woman about the
size of her friend there..." he continued with another casual wave this time
in Linna's direction, "..and something in blue for a singer I know."

The color drained slightly from Sylia's face. "I'm not sure I have anything
that would do. Perhaps you could try another store?" He better not mean what
she thought he did.

Chaz sighed. He hadn't really expected much more. "Well, thank you anyway.
But if what I need isn't here. It isn't anyplace." Chaz turned and walked
out.

Nene and Linna gradually drifted back to counter. Sylia was straining to
keep the shock off her face. "Come upstairs we might have a problem," she
said tightly.



"So," Nene asked later in the upstairs meeting room, "what do we do about
him?"

"I don't think he's a major problem for now. If he had wanted to blackmail
us he would have been much more up front about it," Sylia replied evenly.

"What about the job?" Linna asked.

"It's USSD again. Someone beat them to the Black-Box and recovered it from
the ruins of Aqua-City. I suspect it's probably GENOM. That explosion today
is probably connected somehow," Sylia replied.

Priss looked up from where Mackie was putting a bandage on her hand. "GENOM,
huh? So we get another crack at them." She punched her hand in emphasis and
immediately regretted it.

Linna looked from Priss to Sylia. "But aren't they too big for us?" she
pouted "Besides I'm not to keen on this payment on delivery stuff."

Nene, still wearing her AD police uniform, stood up and clenched her hands.
"I'll do it! I go nuts watching those AD police clowns."

Sylia nodded. "Well then, the two of you should get started right away," she
looked at Nene. "Nene crack into the AD police database," she turned to her
brother. "Mackie, you can help her with the passwords."

Nene and Mackie looked at each other. "OK."

Sylia looked at Linna. "See what you can find out from your friend in
class."

Linna nodded. She'd planned on talking to Irene anyway.

"That's no fun," Priss griped.

Linna rose. "Well then I'm going to class. I've got a friend to cheer up."

"We could use someone to have a chat with OUR mysterious friend," Sylia said
to Priss.

Priss stood and headed for the door. "I'll do it. You said he's on foot. He
couldn't have gotten too far," she said as she ran out.

Sylia watched the meeting break up and wondered what to do about their
‘friend'.



Priss stepped out the side door of the Silky Doll and started towards her
bike. She didn't make it half-way there when she saw a disconsolate figure
sitting in the alley next to the garage. She walked over to him and nudged
him with her foot. The figure didn't even look up. "I figured it wouldn't
take Sylia too long to send somebody to watch me." He looked up into her
startled eyes. "Hiya Priss. Pull up a piece of pavement, I'm not going
anywhere," he said sullenly.

Priss hesitated a moment, then cautiously sat down on the opposite side of
the narrow alley facing him. She pulled her legs up to her chest and waited.
Chaz just sat there looking up at her occasionally.

"What do you want!?" Priss asked, exasperated at his continual silence.

Chaz smiled humorlessly. "I'd like to go home. But that doesn't seem too
likely." He pulled in a deep breath. "I've often wondered what it would be
like to be here. Now that I'm here, I've found it's not at all like I
thought it would be."

Priss, not sure how to take that comment, nervously moved her hand toward
the opening in her riding suit.

"Don't bother to pull that gun of yours Ms. Asagiri. I'm not a threat. And
certainly not a boomer." He grinned mischievously. "Besides, you might
reinjure your hand pulling it too fast. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to
wrestle boomers? You're lucky all it did was tear a little cartilage."

Priss's hand snapped away from the opening liked she'd been burned. "What!?
How!? Who are you!?" She stood up angrily. "Why the hell are you doing
this!?"

Chaz looked up his eyes locking on hers. Deep in her gut Priss felt
something shift. There was something about those eyes. They seemed to burn
straight into her.

"Please, sit down Ms. Asagiri," Chaz said in a soothing voice.

Priss found herself sitting without conscious thought. Startled, she
realized that he'd just forced her to sit. "How the hell did you do that!?"
she demanded.

Chaz blinked than looked startled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to do that." He
looked abashed. "Look. Isn't it enough to know I don't mean you and your
friends any harm? I didn't come to make trouble you know," he paused. "I do
seem to have fallen into more than my share however," he muttered. Looking
up to her eye's again he continued, "I was actually looking for some help."

Priss gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments. "No, it isn't enough. The
fact that you appear to know some of our secrets makes you dangerous," she
paused "Who are you anyway? I can't just go around calling you Mr. Nobody"

"No, I suppose not." He smiled catching the joke. Who would have thought
Priss read Ulysses? "I'm definitely not a Homeric figure. My name is Charles
Stitman. My friends call me Chaz." He looked into her eyes and smiled again.
"I would prefer it if you called me that."

Priss thought about that statement and what it implied for a moment. "Fair
enough for now...Chaz. What say you and I go get a burger and talk?" she
stood up and offered her hand warily to help him up.

A brief smile crossed his face. "I'm not exactly dressed for a restaurant am
I?" he said grasping her hand and standing. The sudden pull of weight
startled Priss momentarily and she stumbled forward. Chaz reached out a hand
and caught her shoulder. "Steady there. You all right?"

"You just weighed more than I thought you would, that's all," Priss
explained as she shrugged away from the hand on her shoulder. Somehow his
nearness bothered her. It made her heart twitch and her gut tie itself in
knots. She shook away the feeling. No reason to feel that way. She hardly
knew him and he wasn't that handsome. But...there was something that made
her want to like him.

Chaz hardly noticed her discomfort. The part that did dismissed it as
suspicion. Probably still trying to deal with my knowing who they are, he
decided. "I wonder how Nene and Mackie are doing on their research?" he
wondered out loud.

Priss contained her reaction only through extreme will power. Knowing how
she hurt her hand could have been coincidence. Knowing what had just
happened inside meant he was listening in without triggering any of Sylia's
safeguards. Yet one more topic for discussion. There wasn't much they could
do about him at the moment, short of killing him. She stopped suddenly and
smacked her head. "Hell, I was going to ask Leon about that lab explosion."

Chaz hid a grin "If you call him now you might still be able to catch him at
the office. It shouldn't be that hard to convince him to join you for
lunch." The trick might be to keep Leon from running over people on his way
to meet you. Chaz grinned at the thought.

Priss stopped next to her bike. "You know Leon?" she asked carefully. If
Leon knew the things this guy seemed to, life could start getting awkward.

Chaz waved vaguely. "Only in the same way that I know the rest of you."

Priss stopped, torn between her desire to know what THAT meant and the
desire to torment Leon.

He grinned. "Go ahead. I know how much you'll love teasing him. I'll still
be around if you want to talk to me later."

Yeah, I'll just bet you will. Priss threw her leg over her bike and eyed
him narrowly. "You're not trying to get rid of me are you?" She wasn't
sure whether she wanted to see him again or not. Mysteries weren't her
style. To her taste maybe, but not her style.

A wry smile crossed Chaz's face. "Who me? Avoid the tender ministrations of
a beauty such as yourself? Perish the thought. I'll just hang out here for a
while. It's not as if I have anything to do," Or any place to go, Chaz added
to himself.

"Hmm.. Well here." She said handing him a couple of bills. "Buy a pair shoes
so you don't stick out so much."

"Thanks. I will," he said gratefully, taking the cash.

Priss nodded once and put on her helmet. "I'll see you in a couple of
hours." She suddenly had a thought. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked
quickly before she could change her mind.

"Thought I'd wash my hair," he quipped. "Why?"

Priss's eyes sparkled with laughter and restrained vengeance. You're going
to pay for that one. "Want to see my band play tonight?"

Chaz's eyes widened and a heartfelt smile spread over his face. Would he
ever! "Are you kidding!? Sure, I'd love it!" he said enthusiastically.

Priss suppressed a smile. Except for a certain ADP officer, it was a trip to
meet a fan. "Great! I'll pick you up here at eight," she said over her
shoulder as she drove away.

Looking down at the bills in his hand he realized that unless he bought
shoes made out of silver he would likely have quite a bit of money left
over. She's probably thinking about that money from USSD, he decided. He
needed a new set of clothes anyway.



Five hours later, clean and wearing his new clothes, Chaz stepped out of the
onsen where he had washed and changed clothes. A deep sigh passed his lips.
Much better. A worried expression crossed his face. Somehow he had gained
about twenty pounds of muscle and he didn't float in the water the way he
used to. More to the point, he sank like the proverbial rock. Not that he
should complain. His weight had always been a little low. He just didn't
like the idea that someone had played with his body so much.

Now all I have to do is kill some time and find my way back before eight.
It's 1635.02 now so I've got three hours and twenty. .five. .minutes. He
hadn't looked down at his new watch. He had just known what time it was. He
didn't even question that it was correct. As he thought about it he could
count the seconds, even the milliseconds, ticking by as accurately as a
metronome. What the hell had Mason done to him? So far the changes seemed
innocuous enough, even beneficial. But the fact remained that something
major had been done to him. A voice in the back of his head reminded him of
the doctors words. "Flatline," the doctor had said. The experiment, whatever
it had been, had shut down his brain for a while. Anything like that was
bound to have severe repercussions. He felt fine though. Resolving to
question Sylia about it if he ever got the chance, Chaz pushed the problem
from his mind for the moment.

Now, which way was it back to the Silky Doll? That way. He knew with the
infallibility that he knew the time. One more thing to worry about later, he
sighed. Well, it could come in handy anyway. A kind of anti-Ryoga sense. He
chuckled anime-tedly to himself as he walked back to the boutique.



Linna stood next to the mirror, holding a Chinese dress up in front of
herself. She was trying to watch Irene and look at the dress at the same
time. She'd been trying all day long to cheer up Irene. The young woman had
been so depressed that afternoon after their workout and conversation. It
looked like she was finally beginning to feel better though. Linna could see
it in her eyes. Well, after a little more shopping they could go get some
dinner to finish off the night.



Priss pulled her bike up to the sidewalk and motioned Chaz to get on. "And
watch the hands," she warned him gravely.

"Hey, believe me, I would like to keep them attached," Chaz said as he put
his hands around her waist.

Priss smiled under her helmet. This evening might not be as bad as she had
thought. He had cleaned himself up and gotten a new set of clothes. If not
handsome, he at least looked presentable now. And his arms did feel good
about her waist. What was she thinking? She didn't know anything about this
guy! Why does he affect me this way? Ah well. Mystery men had always given
her a little thrill. The less she knew, the more she wanted to. Priss hated
secrets. Unless, of course, they were hers. She would be fine once she got
to know him better.



Mason stood over the final assembly area and watched with a predatory grin
as the final components of the Super-Boomer were checked out. He'd waited a
long time for this. With the Black-Box installed the Super-Boomer should be
unbeatable! The old man had definitely taken the long view on this one. Even
the major expense of liberating the Black-Box from USSD was worth it for
this, he thought as he rubbed his hand across the steely hide. With the
Black-Box installed in the Super-Boomer's tough exterior, GENOM would be
unstoppable. Mason smiled. Well, maybe not completely unstoppable. There was
always his own project.



Chaz was ecstatic. This club is great! It's even better than in the video!
And there's Priss up there on stage singing her heart out! Each word was
crystal clear and radiating an emotionality that never came through in the
videos or the soundtracks. Priss and Chaz had arrived before the club opened
for the night. Priss, using her good looks, some subtle persuasion and a
little outright bullying, had gotten him in despite the manager's protests.
The other members of the band had introduced themselves briefly and gone
back to their stage set up. They were obviously curious but determined to
give Priss her privacy. Priss had sat on a stool in the center of the stage,
oblivious to almost everything, stroking her guitar and checking her sound
equipment.

After the bar had opened, Priss had come down and told him she wouldn't be
able to talk to him until after the first set. After the initial
disappointment, things had only gotten better. Throughout the evening he'd
had to turn down requests to sit, dance or drink with quite a few women.
Many of them were more than just attractive. Chaz found the attention both
flattering and puzzling. He had never considered himself handsome and his
experience with dealing with this kind of situation was, effectively, nil.
Moreover men who, even to his untutored eye, were more handsome than he
weren't getting nearly the same attention. Maybe the bar manager had decided
to get even with Priss by seeing if he could get her jealous. Good luck.
Priss didn't seem to see him that way. He frowned slightly. It wasn't a very
good explanation. However, it was the only he could come up with. Taking
another drag on his beer he decided to forget about it for now and just
enjoy it while it lasted. He could dissect it later.



A lock of blonde hair obscured her eyes momentarily as she threw her head
back in ecstasy. Priss was flying. The only time she ever felt better than
this was when she trashing boomers in her hardsuit. When she sang, all the
agony of her life poured out of her soul and into her voice and she felt as
free as if she was newborn. Slowly her eyes scanned the crowd. They were
with her in spirit, she could see it in their faces. Their roars of approval
when she finished each song were exhilarating. Like a high without drugs.

Where's Chaz anyway? Her eyes narrowed. Oh, there he is. Her eyes narrowed
even more. What IS he doing with that girl? She suppressed a flash of ire.
She watched as the girl wandered off. I wonder why he turned her down?

Laughing at her own fickleness, she completed her scan of the room. The band
picked up the tempo for the last number of the set and Priss returned her
attention to her singing. Finishing the set she put her guitar in its stand
and walked down to the main floor. She pulled lightly at her slightly
sweaty, blonde wig trademark. Damn thing was hotter than hell. Sometimes it
was more trouble than it was worth.



"That was fantastic!" Chaz said as the singer sat down next to him, to the
obvious envy of every other man in the bar. "Much better than the CDs!" Some
of the songs he'd never heard before.

Priss's face hardened slightly. "Where exactly did you GET a CD of my
songs?" she asked tightly.

Chaz brain froze for a moment. He'd forgotten about that. "Ah. .It's just
one of the many things I'm going to have to explain I'm afraid."

Priss let out a hint of a Cheshire cat grin. Gotcha! She couldn't have
asked for a better lead in. "How about right now?" Priss asked as she waved
for a drink.

"Now?" Chaz squeaked nervously. "What if someone overhears?"

She controlled the predatory grin that threatened to spread across her lips.
Ah. Ah. You aren't going to wiggle out that easily. He'd been ducking her
questions all evening and Priss was determined to nail him down while she
had the chance. "Relax. We can go backstage. No one will bother us there
until the next set."

"Won't your band get suspicious?" he asked hopefully.

Priss grinned and sidled closer, enjoying his obvious discomfort. "So what
if they do?" she rubbed his shoulder with hers. She suppressed a laugh as he
nearly fell out of his chair. "Seriously. It won't be a problem. They know I
never do that sort of thing during a gig." Usually.

"I suppose so," Chaz said with the voice of a man going to the gallows. He
looked around as Priss stood up. "I thought Linna tried to make it to all of
your concerts?"

"Occasionally," Priss said off-handily. "She's trying to cheer up a friend
tonight though'."

Chaz's eyes widened. "Not tonight! It's too soon!"

Priss looked down at him. "What do you mean too soon?"

"We've got to get out of here!" he said standing up and moving towards the
door.

"Wait!" Priss said as she grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" He wasn't
going to get away that easily!

Chaz continued to force his way through the thick crowd towards the exit.
"Damn! I thought I had more time! Irene is going to get killed if we don't
get out of here."

Priss pulled hard on his arm to no effect. "What do you mean killed? Who's
Irene?" she asked as she added more force.

Chaz pushed free of the crowd and lunged for the exit pulling Priss behind
him. "Someone in GENOM decided that she was becoming a nuisance." He paused
and spotted Priss's bike. "In about an hour one of those boomers you played
with this morning is going to kill her."

Priss let go. "I'm just supposed to take your word for it? How do you know?"
she demanded irately.

"Come on. I'll explain on the way," Chaz said putting a leg over her bike.

Priss stepped up to the bike. "This had better be good."



"You ARE out of your mind!" she yelled over her shoulder as they sharply
rounded a corner. "You honestly expect me to believe that crap!!?" She
reached down again and tried vainly to pull down her leather mini. Damn
thing never was meant for riding.

"No, quite frankly." He shrugged with his arms around her waist. "If I were
you, I wouldn't believe it either." He hadn't even told her the worst part
yet.

Priss began to slow the bike. "Then why should I..." She was cut off by a
blinking light on her bike. "Hold that thought." Priss flipped a switch on
the dash and Mackie's voice came into her helmet. Their was a brief pause.
"You're going to have to explain this to Sylia later," she said angrily as
she accelerated the bike and raced down the street. "Linna just called and
said a black car tried to run her down." OK. So maybe that part was true.
What about the rest?

Chaz leaned forward. "It's not after Linna. She was just in the way. How far
is it?"

Priss swerved the bike around a slow moving car and accelerated to the bike
's top speed. "A few seconds from here." If this stupid traffic breaks up
that is. God she hated riding in street traffic. Give her the open highway
any day!



Irene crouched, crying in fear and frustration. The strange black car was
still following her. Using her fear, it had tricked her into a section of
deserted highway. Whoever was in it was going to kill her just like they had
killed her fiancee. She was sure of it. She tried to stand but her legs
wouldn't carry her weight. Through eyes near blinded by tears she saw the
black car pull up to the curb beside her. Off in the distance she heard the
whine of a motorcycle and the sound of Linna's voice calling to her. The
door to the car opened. Irene looked up as a tall blonde woman in black
wearing a feral expression stepped out of the car. Irene gasped as the woman
almost casually hauled her up by her shirtfront with one hand. Terror filled
her as she watched the other hand flex in front of her and long, humming
claws project from its fingertips.


"Shit! We're on the wrong level!" Priss yelled. Up ahead she could make out
the heads of Linna's friend and the razor-doll on top of the overpass. "We
won't make it to the top in time!" Behind her she felt the balance shift as
Chaz kneeled on the seat. "What the hell are you doing!?" she screamed as
she adjusted to the change in balance.

Holding tight to Priss's shoulders, Chaz crouched on the back of the seat.
"Go as fast as you can and keep the bike steady. With any luck I can catch
the rail and get to the top before that thing kills her." I hope. More
likely. Splat!

"You ARE crazy!" Priss said as she raced her engine. "You'll be splattered
all over the side of the bridge!" Priss said as if in confirmation of his
fears.

NOT what he had wanted to hear. "You got a better idea?" he said as he let
go of her shoulders and balanced like a cat on the back of the seat.



Linna could just make out the figure of Irene being held up by a tall blonde
woman. Desperately she tried to increase her pace. Praying she could make it
in time. . .Knowing she wouldn't. Running, she screamed Irene's name hoping
to distract the boomer.



The boomer's hand flashed in front of Irene's face drawing a thin line of
blood across one cheek. Time seemed to slow as the boomer leaned forward to
lick the line of blood. Somewhere she could hear Linna's voice calling her.
Nearby a motorcycle raced. Its engine a full-throated roar. Slowly, the
boomers claws dropped lower to finish the job.



Priss felt a sudden lurch and felt her rear tire compress and sharply
rebound as Chaz launched himself from the bike to the bridge. Her rear tire
lifted from the pavement for a moment, and Priss lost control of the bike as
the traction from the rear wheel disappeared. The bike, still rocking with
the force of the launch, forced Priss to swerve quickly in order to try
regain control of it. Still struggling, she skidded underneath the overpass.
The bike, now completely off balance, slipped out from under her. This is
gonna hurt, Priss thought as she kicked her leg clear of the falling bike.



His leap from the back of the bike had carried him higher than he had
thought it would. But still not quite high enough. It looked like Priss
might be right after all. Reaching forward with his hands, he touched the
top of the railing along the edge of the overpass. Using that as a vault, he
turned some of his forward motion into the needed lift and aimed his feet at
the boomer's chest as he came over the edge of the overpass.



The boomer paused in mid-attack. Half-turning, the boomer saw, out of the
corner of its eye, a human vault the railing on the other side of the road
and, aim his feet at it's head. Dropping its target to better be able to
defend itself, it turned as the human skimmed the hood of its car and
crashed feet first into its chest.

Chaz's legs knocked the boomer back away from Irene and against the railing.
His momentum expended, Chaz dropped to the ground and rolled away. OK
genius, now what? He ducked the wild swing of the rapidly recovering boomer.
I'll be damned! he thought as he bounced to his feet. That fanfic was right.
Up close they DO look like terminators in drag.



Irene, freed by the boomer, slowly pulled herself upright and watched in
terror as her savior narrowly ducked the clawed lunge of the enraged boomer.
Below her she heard Linna urging her to run but she couldn't move.

Chaz, bleeding slightly form a couple cuts, spared a glance to his side as
the boomer aimed a kick at his head. What's the matter with her? She should
have run off by now. He stepped inside the kick, grabbing the boomer's arm
and pulling it into a sacrifice throw designed to toss it over the car.

The boomer was confused. This fight should have been over by now. Any of the
small hits it had made should have stopped the human before it. And the new
target was entirely too fast. Coming to a conclusion, the boomer upped the
threat rating as its body was again tossed over the car. Landing agilely on
the other side, the boomer sprang back over the car, claws extended for the
kill.

Linna finished her run up the stairs. She hoped Priss was OK. That fall had
looked pretty unpleasant. But Irene couldn't take care of herself, Priss
could. Linna grabbed Irene's hand and started to pull her away as the boomer
and someone else came together. Quicker than Linna could follow, the man's
hands snaked out and grabbed the boomer by the wrists. Rolling backwards, he
slammed the boomer's head into the pavement, cracking both. The boomer,
slightly stunned by the impact, rolled slowly to its feet. A sudden boom of
sound broke the stillness, and the boomer lurched forward as if drunk. A
second boom followed and gray bio-fluid started to flow down the boomer's
body.

As the third shot rang out, Chaz tackled the boomer at the waist, knocking
it over the railing to the street below. As it fell, the boomer's hand
locked on his wrist, pulling him over as well. "Oh Shit!" he gasped as he
missed a grab at the railing.

Priss looked on in horror as the boomer pulled Chaz over. That ledge was
twenty feet up and it looked like he was likely to land on his head! She
fumbled at her bike for a clip and started to reload her gun. If that thing
survived the fall it wouldn't be alive for long!

Turning in the air, Chaz kicked his legs between himself and the boomer.
Together they fell and together they landed. Heavily. The boomer on the
bottom. The boomer's chest, already damaged by the shots from Priss's gun,
crumpled from the impact, spraying bio-fluid everywhere.



Chaz stood up and checked himself. The clothes were a write-off, unless you
liked the grunge look. Pretty good apart from that. He had a couple scrapes
that itched a little, but nothing serious, he decided.

Priss, however, looked in much worse shape as she clutched a light pole next
to her fallen bike. With one hand she held the light pole as she tried to
reload her gun with the other. She hadn't had time to change out of her
stage outfit, and the leather mini and top obviously hadn't protected her
much from the crash. Good thing she was wearing her helmet, he noted. That
scrape on the side of the former protective gear looked nasty. The road rash
wasn't bad but it had to be painful. On the other hand, her right leg looked
VERY painful. The blue-black bruise along the side proclaimed that it was
undoubtedly broken. A lesser person wouldn't have been able to move at all.
As Chaz walked up to her, she frantically tried to reload the gun. "Relax,
Priss, it's just me," Chaz soothed.

"Get away from me!" She was nearly in a panic. "Only a boomer or a boomeroid
could have beaten that thing!" She finished snapping the cartridge in place
and leveled the gun at him.

Chaz risked a slight grin. It didn't seem to help. "Now you know that's not
true. If you hadn't had your gun that thing would have ripped me apart by
now. C'mon. If I had intended to hurt you I had plenty of chances to do it
earlier."

Linna walked up to the pair, supporting a hysterically weeping Irene. "Give
him a break Priss. We can find out what's what when we take him back to
Sylia's," she said, despite having misgivings of her own. After all, he had
risked his life to save her friend. "We've got to get Priss to a hospital,"
she said to Chaz.

Chaz agreed. Priss was in no shape to do much of anything. She'd lost a bit
of blood and the pain had to be terrible. "OK. I'll carry her. You tell me
what you want to do." He reached down and picked up a weakly struggling
Priss, trying to avoid touching her abrasions. Her strength had just about
left her, but he could see in her eyes that she would have pulled the
trigger if she could have. "Just settle down Priss. We'll have you at a
hospital in no time." Her eyes just glared back. Oh well.

Linna walked back, still comforting Irene. "Sylia said that Mackie's on his
way here in the van. We're supposed to go back with him." She glanced at
Priss. "Him too Priss. She wants to talk to him." Priss just looked resigned
and turned away. Linna shrugged. He was in her good guy book for now. She'd
let Sylia sort it out.



A few minutes later Mackie pulled up in the van and looked at the mess. What
was that mess in the road anyway? A few more seconds inspection gave him an
answer that his mind flatly denied. Christ! It looked like a safe fell on
that boomer! Turning from the carnage, he opened the door and helped Priss,
Linna and Irene into the back. Linna grabbed the med-kit and started to
bandage Priss. Chaz walked over to the remains of the boomer. Reaching down,
he easily threw it over his shoulder and walked back to the van. "Are you
sure this thing is dead?" he asked tentatively. It looked pretty dead, but
from what he'd seen in the anime you could never tell when a half dead
boomer would get up and rip your throat out.

"Positive," Mackie replied. The boomer that could function in the shape this
one was in had yet to roll off the assembly line. "What do you want to do
with it?" Mackie said examining the boomer's remains curiously.

Chaz shrugged. "Give me a tarp and I'll strap it on top of the van. If we
leave it here GENOM will clean up the mess and we won't have anything to
work with. By taking it with us they'll have to worry what happened to it."

Mackie shook his head. "That's no good. GENOM puts tracers in every one of
these things. We'll just dump it somewhere and come back with better
equipment later."

Chaz stared hard at the corpse. "Tracers? You mean like this thing?" he
asked as he pulled a small plas-steel capsule free from the former boomers
innards.

Mackie took the capsule and examined it carefully. With a swift motion he
chucked it up to the still running black car. "Yeah. Like that. How'd you
spot it?"

Chaz shrugged. "It was the only thing glowing."

Mackie was quiet for the rest of the ride back.



"Well, she's got a broken leg, a minor concussion and several pieces of her
skin were abraded away," Sylia remarked as she walked back into the living
room. "Other than that she's fine. She seems more pissed off about losing
her bike than anything else." She sat down between Mackie and Nene opposite
Chaz. "I gave her and Irene a sedative to let them both sleep. They'll be
out until morning." She looked at Chaz who just sat there staring into his
cup of tea. "Priss told me the story you told her."

Chaz raised his eyes to meet hers "I'm afraid I didn't get to tell her all
of it." He looked back down at his cooling tea. "Where I come from all of
this is a semi-popular science-fiction series." His eyes moved from one face
to another. "All of it." A silence fell across the room.

"Given that we could believe that where does that leave you?" Nene asked.
She wasn't sure whether or not to be offended by the 'semi-popular' remark.
It was all so unreal.

"In Wonderland," Chaz replied without a trace of a smile. "I haven't the
slightest clue how I got here. So my odds of finding a way back are
remote...Very remote," he sighed. "And the other part I worry about is what
Mason was up to. He messed around with my body pretty heavily. I don't know
what he did and quite frankly it scares the piss out of me."

Sylia looked up. "Brian J. Mason? The one Irene attacked?" She watched Chaz
nod slowly. "You said GENOM performed an experiment on you. Are you sure it
was Mason?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. I saw the bastard's face right before the lights went out.
He's a featured player in all of this." He waved airily. "I don't know how
much my being here will change things though." He nodded towards the bedroom
where Irene was sleeping. "In the story I remember she wasn't supposed to
survive." Linna gasped sharply as Chaz continued, "the Knight Sabers are
supposed to win. But you have your share of tragedies along the way. Some of
them are necessary. But I don't know which are crucial."

Sylia frowned. "So you aren't certain what things you should tell us?" she
summed up.

Chaz nodded. "Right. I'm kind of a Cassandra. Except that my prophecies are
going to become more unreliable as time goes on. Just my being here is going
to change things." Chaz sipped at his tea and grimaced at the bitter brew.
"I could seriously screw things up if I'm not careful. Maybe even enough so
that GENOM wins."

Sylia leaned back. "So what do we do with you? You're too dangerous to let
run loose. You also have nowhere to go."

Chaz smiled "Is this where I'm supposed to ask to join the Knight Sabers? I
have to admit the idea had crossed my mind." He shook his head. "But it's
not a great idea. I'm not cut out to be a hero."

Linna broke in. "What about Irene? Doesn't that show some heroism?"

Chaz waved the argument away. "A momentary lapse. Heroes tend to die very
gruesomely. Besides, I have no idea what Mason did to me. Whatever it was it
might make me unreliable." Why don't you tell them the truth? You're so
scared that you might die here, you're almost pissing yourself.

Sylia stood up. "I don't know about offering you a job, but we can put your
mind to rest about everything else anyway. Nene come with us. Linna stay up
here and keep an eye on Irene and Priss. If there's any change we'll be in
the infirmary."



Chaz sat, stripped to the waist, in the center of the small infirmary. While
Sylia placed a stethoscope against his chest. Chaz sucked in a breath. "Man
that's cold! I swear people keep those things in a refrigerator."

Sylia pulled the instrument away from his skin. "Your heartbeat,
blood-pressure and respiration all seem normal. Nene's running a few tests
on the blood sample now." She shined a light into his eyes. "So far
everything seems normal enough."

Chaz stuck out his tongue as Sylia wielded a tongue depressor. "Yeah,
perfectly normal. If you discount the fact that I jumped almost twenty feet
straight up from a standing start and wrestled a boomer to a standstill.
Don't you have more sophisticated tests you can run?"

Sylia had some suspicions of her own but refrained from mentioning them.
"Yes, we do and we'll get to them. You always start with the easy tests
first. They're cheap and they tell you where to look. It gives you a
baseline. When you deviate from the baseline, that's when we start with the
heavier tests."

Nene walked into the room wearing a white lab coat and holding a datapad.
"Well, with the exception of a few repair nanites it's perfectly normal type
O- human blood."

Sylia looked surprisedly at Nene "Repair nanites? Is that all? No muscle or
nerve augmentation hormones?" This blew her theory to hell. There should
have been much more.

"Nope. Just normal nanites like the ones the hospitals put in rich people to
keep them healthy." Nene looked at Chaz. "You should be glad. Most people
pay millions for the process.... What's wrong?"

Chaz looked pale and very upset. "You said that the blood was type O? No
mistake?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Nene shook her head in negation. "Definitely type O. Why?" She pulled up a
chair to sit down.

Chaz looked up at Sylia and sighed heavily. "You better scrap that baseline
Sylia and go right to the heavy tests. My blood type should have been type
A+"

Nene looked stricken. "You mean they changed your blood type? But that's not
possible! You'd kill someone if you did that." She looked up at Sylia.
"Wouldn't you?"

Sylia looked down at Chaz. "OK we'll start with an CAT-scan." She hoped she
was wrong. If it was what she thought it might be, there was no telling how
he would take it.



Nene and Sylia sat in chairs in front of a large computer console. Chaz
looked over Sylia's shoulder as she and Nene tried to piece together what
the machine was telling them. Nene nodded at the image. "It LOOKS like a
perfectly natural human body. That is until you notice some anomalies." She
pointed at a blurred section of the image. "Here, and in some other parts of
the image, you get an interference pattern. But nothing seems to generating
them. When you try to screen the interference pattern out..." She did
something complicated to the console. "...this is what you get." Almost the
entire image disappeared. "The whole thing is a fake. Something is shielding
the interior from the scan and puts up a false image in its place."

Sylia nodded. "What about the MRI scan? Did it give us a better image?"

Nene looked up at Chaz. "Yeah, But it's just as fake. Someone went to a lot
of trouble to do this. It would take a while to set up."

"But I was only attached to the machine for a couple of minutes!" Chaz
recoiled "How could this much have been done to me in such a short time?"

Sylia looked at Chaz. "One thing they couldn't hide was this." She pointed
at a line at the bottom of the screen. "This measures body density based on
overall weight and volume. According to this you're too heavy, but not
anywhere near as heavy as say a C-class boomer. You weigh about 30% more
than you should, not enough to be easily noticeable by anybody not looking
for it." She pulled in a breath. "And then there's this." She punched up an
entirely new set of graphs. "This is your response time. The blue line
represents normal human response. Yours is the red line. Most boomers are a
bit slower than a human. Your response time is over twice as fast and was
still climbing when we finished." It also showed signs that it was
completely controlled, not reflex.

Chaz looked shocked. "But when I fought that boomer, it moved faster than I
did!"

Sylia shook her head. "I checked. That boomer series, the fastest in the
industry, was about fifty percent faster than an average human. I think that
it's more likely that you hadn't finished adjusting to the change. That
threw your timing off," she explained. Her eyes shifted away from Chaz to
Nene. "I want you to go upstairs now. I need to talk to Chaz alone for a
while," she said gently.

Nene looked upset but nodded obediently and headed upstairs.

Chaz watched as she walked out of sight. In a few moments he heard the sound
of the elevator taking Nene up. He waited until he couldn't hear it anymore
than turned towards Sylia. "It wasn't because you didn't want her to hear.
You're afraid how I'm going to take what you're going to tell me aren't
you?" he asked calmly. Sylia nodded sadly. "That's what I thought. When the
blood test came up O- I started to worry." He stared into Sylia's eyes. "How
much human is left?" he asked shakily.

Sylia looked away. "Probably less than you think. From what some of the
other tests have shown I'd say that Mason used a very risky technique on
you. To my knowledge it's only been done to a few others," she hesitated.
"From what I can through he took it a step farther. .He.."

Chaz interrupted "Put your father's neurophages into my brain. They broke
down the neurons and recorded everything in them," Sylia only nodded. "And
when they were finished the old me was dead for all practical purposes."

Sylia nodded again, her eyes filled with sympathy.

Tears began to fill his eyes. "Then they moved all the neurophages out of my
body through the blood stream and reassembled them in this body right?" Not
even a nod. Chaz started to cry. "The bastard killed me." He sat down
heavily in the chair. "I thought I'd escaped! But he'd already killed me!"
Chaz sobbed. Sylia sat down next to him, put her arm around his shoulders
and held him. Once upon a time she'd been almost where he sat now. She knew
what it was like to face it alone.



After an while Chaz looked up. There was no sign left that he had been
crying. "What kind of body did he put me in?" he asked, preparing for the
worst.

Sylia tapped a few keys on the console without moving her other arm from
around his neck. "As best as I can determine it's a new type based on the
frame of a heavily modified 33-S. A sexaroid." Something was bothering her
about the design though. Somewhere before she'd seen the style before. What
nagged her was that her memory for such things was usually perfect. She'd
figure it out later.

Chaz groaned. Just when you thought you could handle things. "Great," he
said in a choked voice. "How long do I have before the need for blood kills
me?" He wasn't willing to kill to survive.

Sylia pointed at the screen "Most 33-S's only need blood when they got hurt
or highly stressed. In your case, that's one of the things that they
modified. You aren't dependent on blood or much else for that matter. At a
guess you could go without food water and maybe even air for a few days
before you needed to recharge. Even a normal 33-S can do it for a while. All
the other statistics are pretty much guesswork. If I could find a datajack
in you I could check them. But you're very well shielded. Unless you do
something to show them, even a doctor won't notice you aren't human
anymore."

He looked up wearily. "One person knows."

Sylia nodded. "Priss and maybe Nene as well. Well I'm sure that they'll
realize it's not your fault," she said encouragingly.

Chaz looked incredulous. "Priss? From what I understand she can barely
tolerate cyborgs."

Sylia frowned. "You might be surprised."

Chaz nodded. He was unconvinced but unwilling to argue. "So what else did
they change?"

Sylia stood up. "I'll leave you with the computer to find that out for
yourself." She walked towards the door. When Chaz's voice stopped her she
was just touching the lock plate.

"Sylia, Is there a job opening for a male Knight Saber?" he asked quietly.
"I think I might have a reason to join."

Sylia nodded knowing he could see her reflection in the screen. "There's
one open. We'll talk about it later."



Priss woke up in a darkened room and groaned. The pain from her injuries had
faded to a dull ache after Sylia had dosed her with pain killers and treated
her scrapes. At least she didn't have to worry about scarring. Wasn't modern
medicine wonderful? All you had do was put up with an itch you couldn't
scratch or even touch until the skin was healed. The cast bothered her more.
Sylia had said it could come off once the bone sealant had finished. She
shook her head. There was something she had been about to tell Sylia before
she'd been put out.

Chaz! She had to tell Sylia about Chaz! They couldn't let him run around
loose. It! They couldn't let IT run around loose. However much it wanted her
to believe it was human Priss knew the truth. She struggled to a sitting
position ignoring the protests of her abused body. Reaching out she felt for
the lamp she'd seen before they turned out the lights.

Light streamed in from the world outside and assaulted Priss's eyes as Sylia
opened up the door to the room. Wearing a neat tan blouse and skirt Sylia
carried a tray with breakfast on it. She flipped on the overhead light and
walked into the room. "Feeling a little better Priss?" the dark hared woman
asked in a clinical manner.

Priss relaxed her body against the headboard of the bed. How the heck did
Sylia always manage to look like she just stepped out of the dressing room?
"Just the person I wanted to see."

Sylia put the tray with eggs, toast, juice and tea across Priss's lap and
sat down on the edge of the bed. "Really? What do you need to talk to me
about?" Sylia said almost too casually.

The way she said it set off alarms in the back of Priss's head. She's
expecting me to tell her. Damn it! "You already know don't you?" Priss
sighed at Sylia's nod. "And here I was, worrying about you." Grabbing a
piece of toast from the tray she continued, "So what did you do with it?"
Concentrating on her breakfast, Priss completely missed the look of
irritation that swept across Sylia's face. "I mean, you did kill it didn't
you?" She looked up and froze as she saw the look in Sylia's eyes. She'd
never seen them blaze like that before.

Carefully keeping the anger out of her voice Sylia replied. "No. I haven't
killed HIM," her voice grew cold. "I expected better of you Priss. Really I
did." She stood abruptly. "It's not fair to blame a person for something
they had no say in." Memories washed though her of her father's face.

Priss snorted "Come off it Sylia. He's a boomer for Christ's sake! A heavy
boomeroid at the very least! Whatever they did to him at GENOM took away any
claim to humanity he had." She stabbed a piece of egg on the plate. "So,
it's not his fault. So what? Life's like that! You heard what Linna said.
He's dangerous all by himself. And on top of that he knows about us. What
else is there to do? We can't just let him go!"

"No we can't," Sylia's voice softened. "That's why he's joining us."

Priss choked on her tea. "You can't be serious! What is he supposed to do?
Put on a hardsuit and kick all the OTHER boomers asses?"

Sylia reached to the side and moved a chair over. Leaning over Priss she
spoke calmly and clearly. "Have you ever known me to be less than serious?"
she questioned. "His personal problems aside he's a good choice. He's fast,
strong and, from what I can tell, fairly smart."

Priss rallied quickly. "I'll say he's strong! Did you see what he did to my
bike when he jumped! The suspension couldn't take it! The shocks blew out!"
Priss lapsed into silence for a moment.

Sylia stared at Priss thoughtfully. "What's the real reason you don't like
him? It's not the bike. It's not just the fact that he's a. ."

"Boomer," came Chaz's voice from the doorway. He walked slowly up to the
bed. Somewhere he'd gotten a change of clothes, Priss noted. He was now
dressed in jeans and a black denim shirt. "I figured I'd have to talk to you
sooner or later," he said pulling up a chair. He sat backwards on it,
opposite Sylia and facing Priss. "I think I know what it is she doesn't
like," he sighed and looked at Priss. "When we were at the club I remember
thinking it was odd that so many women were coming on to me."

Priss's eyes turned away from his before returning his look defiantly. The
memory was embarrassing. She'd actually been jealous over a machine for a
minute. That was more than embarrassing it was humiliating.

He continued as if he hadn't seen the look of irritation, "I'm in the body
of a 33-S boomer now Priss. Do you know what that type is?" Priss slowly
shook her head back and forth, trying not to listen. "I'm a sexaroid. A few
of the built in systems are designed to attract people. MAKE them want to
like me."

Priss looked up startled. She hadn't thought she was subject to such
manipulation.

Sylia saw Priss' reaction. "Is that it? That's why you hate him? Because you
can't picture yourself attracted to a boomer?"

Chaz looked up to Sylia's face "Sure. When she thought I was human it was
OK. But when she found out I was a boomer it meant she had to either change
her feelings about boomers in general or hate me. She's hated boomers all
her life. It was easier to hate me."

"Damn it! Don't talk about me like I wasn't here!" Priss growled. How could
Sylia do this to her!? "How would you like it if someone you liked turned
out to be something you hated? How would you like it if.."

Chaz interrupted with a roar of his own, "No! How would you like it if
someone ripped away your humanity, so that everybody treated you like a
dangerous freak!?" He finished. "You're so worried about changing your
world-view. Think about how mine's been changed!" Tears of frustration
welled up in his eyes. "You feel angry because of a change of view? Think
how I feel!"

Priss looked up at him with the faint gleam of held back tears in her eyes.
"I'd be pretty pissed," she admitted and gave a half-hearted grin. "Maybe
even furious."

"Damn straight I'm pissed," Chaz said. "Remember when I said I wanted to go
home? I can't! There's no place left to go home to now."

Priss remembered. She remembered what it felt like to lose your family and
everything else in your life. Her expression softened a little.

Sylia relaxed. The conversation seemed to have passed the critical point.
"So now what are you going to do?" she asked Chaz.

"That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I think we found
that data jack you were looking for." He rolled up his sleeve. "It should be
right under here," he said pointing at a spot on his forearm.

Priss looked. It seemed just like a normal arm, tan and strong. She could
even see veins where, beneath the skin, blood pulsed. Where do you draw the
line? At what point do you say that's a dangerous boomer and that's not?
That's an enemy and that's a...friend? She closed her eyes. "You're still
going to pay for my bike you know," she said.

Chaz recognized the effort for what it was and let a small smile grow on his
face. "Only if you teach me how to drive one."

"Ride. The term is ride. It's not a car," Priss said testily. Only someone
who didn't know squat about bikes would use the word drive.

"Is that a yes?" Chaz teased.

"Don't push me. It's going to take a while." She glared at him. "Besides, I
have to recover first."

Chaz nodded. "I don't expect miracles. I'll come by later if you want me
to." He got up to go.

Priss relaxed back into the pillows. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Chaz paused. "Yeah, Me too," he responded and closed the door behind him.

"I should let you rest now," Sylia stood and picked up the empty tray. "Try
not to worry about it for now."

Priss lay there in bed with her eyes wide open after Sylia left. Thoughts
were running through her head and she couldn't stop them. She turned onto
her side and stifled a sob. She'd be damned if she'd cry. The worst part was
feeling like she'd lost something. The world had been Priss and the Knight
Sabers vs. GENOM and the boomers. Pure, easy, no complications. Where was
she going to put that hatred now? What was she going to do now that she was
beginning to like a boomer?



Nene's thoughts were jumbled, as she finished walking up the stairs to her
apartment. She'd spent the night at Sylia's, working with Mackie on the
ADP computer systems. She'd entered the ADP at one of the lowest levels
possible and had quickly managed to work her way up to dispatcher. But she
needed at least one more promotion to get her own access code for the
system. Luckily, she didn't have to work today. Stumbling into the bedroom,
she pulled her wrinkled clothes from her body. Sighing with relief she
slipped into her bed. Only a few more thoughts to clear out of her skull and
she could fade into sleep.

Composing herself underneath the covers, she closed her eyes to think. She
still couldn't figure out what GENOM had done to Chaz. Whatever they had
done, it was a sure bet the body he was using now wasn't entirely the one
he'd started with. Certainly by the legal definition, he'd crossed the
line from cyborged human to self-owned boomeroid. She wasn't sure how she
felt about that. He seemed nice enough. It was Sylia's reaction that had
surprised her the most. The usually unemotional leader of the Knight Sabers
actually seemed to feel some sympathy for him. Why? It was kind of obvious
that Sylia intended to keep him close to the Knight Sabers. The young
red-head gave a mental shrug. Yet one more Sylia Stingray mystery to be
pondered.

Well, until he proved otherwise, she was willing to give him the benefit of
the doubt. She rolled over to go to sleep. A grin spread across her features
as a final thought crossed her sleepy mind. Besides, he was kind of cute.



Back in the infirmary Sylia pulled a scalpel from a tray of instruments.
"You sure that's the place?" she asked. "I don't want to cut if you're not
sure."

"Nope. I'm not sure." Chaz grinned. "On the other hand, that's where the
computer predicted would be the best place." He pushed up his sleeve again
and placed his right arm across the small table. "I have to know," he said
simply.

Sylia pushed down on the skin with the scalpel. After the first sixteenth of
an inch the skin didn't want to cut anymore. Ignoring the slight trace of
blood she bore down harder. With a metallic 'ting' the head of the scalpel
broke off and flew across the room. "Well so much for that approach. Where
did Nene draw her blood sample from anyway?" she asked puzzled.

"Right in that vein above where you were cutting. Probably put those above
the armor to make it more realistic." Chaz pressed on the cut skin, watching
in fascination as it quickly sealed closed. A slight itch and it was gone.
"Now what do we do?"

Sylia reached for a datapad. "We can try those anomalies that Nene detected.
The rest of the job is so good that they must of had a reason for leaving
those areas the way they are." She punched up a copy of Nene's earlier
scans. "There's three in each hand just behind the knuckles." She pointed at
the diagram. "But those are too small to be what we're looking for.
Vibrowire ports at a guess." She indicated the palms of the diagram. "These
two areas, on the other hand, are too large. I'd guess that those are
weapons ports of some kind too. The only area left is this area on the left
arm, in the same place that we just tried the right."

"So we just tried the wrong arm then?" Chaz asked rolling up the sleeve of
his left arm and placing in on the table.

"Probably. It could be that there isn't one. Though that doesn't seem
likely." Sylia picked up another scalpel. "We'll see in a minute," she said
as she pressed down on the exposed skin. "Does that hurt?" she asked as she
cut a line through the skin.

"Not really. More like a heavy tingling or itching sensation," Chaz said as
he watched her fold back the skin.

Sylia shook her head absently as she put the scalpel back on the tray. "Hmm.
. . I'd be careful about that. It would be pretty easy to seriously hurt
yourself." Using her fingers she gently spread the incision. "There it is,"
Sylia said gratified. She carefully used a piece of gauze to wipe blood away
from the exposed data jack.

Chaz looked. It was set flush with the flexible armor underneath. Just a
small white circle with black lettering and a seal across the opening in the
center. Probably to keep fluids out, he noted idly.

Sylia put a couple of clamps on the skin to hold it away. "OK. Let me know
if this feels unpleasant and we'll stop," she said as she reached for a
data-link. With a little click the cable snapped into place.

"Nothing unpleasant so far." In fact Chaz couldn't feel anything at all. The
computer started it's interface program. "Still nothing. No sensation at
all."

Sylia frowned slightly. "We're not getting anything from it either."

-Warning! Unauthorized attempt to access system.-

Chaz shook his head violently. What the hell was that!?

Sylia looked at Chaz, concerned. "Are you all right?"

-Allow access? yes/NO?-

Huh? "Sylia. There's a voice in my head asking me if I want to grant
access."

Sylia looked startled for a moment. "Just say ‘yes' for now."

Chaz nodded. /yes./

-Acknowledged.-

Chaz shook his head again. "Boy. That's spooky," he said shakily.

Sylia watched as information scrolled up the screen. "There's why. I have to
give GENOM some credit. Someone did a first class job on this system. If we
tried to do this without your permission we wouldn't have gotten anywhere.
But at the same time you don't have any direct control over a lot of
systems."

"Like what?" Chaz crowded close to the terminal and watched as his body
talked to the computer.

"A lot of systems are being controlled by a complex subsidiary computer. It
's a really odd one though. It's not quite an AI but it is a learning
computer. It's apparently a lot like a subconscious. Neural net security is
really simple. If you don't want to be accessed it closes down the data
jack," Sylia said, fascinated, as she continued reading the screen. Damn it
to hell! She'd SEEN this before! She was sure of it. "In normal day to day
activities you don't need a lot of what your body can do. They must have
wanted to free the main system from having to deal with an overload of
trivial information so the AI acts as a prescreen. It keeps track of the
data and looks for patterns. If it thinks you ought to know about something
it brings it to your attention."

"I don't know if I like that," Chaz complained. "It sounds a lot like a
father knows best policy."

"Not really," Sylia explained. "It's the same sort of thing that your old
body used to do. You really didn't listen to every sound your ears ever
heard. You could if you wanted to. But if you were doing something else you
would only hear things that caught your attention."

"So what kinds of things am I not 'listening' to," Chaz asked, trying
unsuccessfully to decipher the cryptic images on the screens.

Sylia pulled up a cross sectional image of his eyes. "First, there's your
visual abilities. Those includes telescopic amplification, thermograph, a
broad-spectrum receiver, light amplification, simple magnetic field tracing
and a complex package of image manipulation software that renders them more
accurate than normally possible with such small systems."

"So when Mackie asked me if there was a homing device the AI took my
thoughts as a question and started looking for one," Chaz said slapping his
forehead. "When it picked up the activation it pointed it out."

"Probably." Sylia pointed to the head in the diagram. "Then this says you
can also hear, taste and touch much better than normal. The sense of smell
and taste can be broken down to the molecular level if you wanted. It uses a
miniature laser spectrometer in conjunction with a database that gives
scientific names and possible uses," she frowned as more data scrolled by.
"You also have a radiation detector, imaging radar and a small sonar setup.
Some of this is highly experimental stuff. Some of it is almost useless.
Almost as if they threw it in to prove they could. I wonder why Mason threw
it away?"

"I beg your pardon. Experimental? Useless?" Chaz poked nervously at his
chest. "I may not like it, but this is my body now. I'd like to hope it was
reliable."

"That's not quite what I meant," Sylia explained. "The technology is proven.
But someone has figured out a way to make it much smaller and more
efficient. I might even install some of this in the hardsuits. Take your
skin for example. You wondered why it looked just like your old face," he
nodded. "It can flex, change color and reshape itself to look like almost
anyone. Provided they're male and about the same build. Given time and
materials it can even change that. This is a VERY sophisticated system. Even
your hair can change length and color. There's also provision for a
chameleon system using ruthenium fibers beneath the skin. But it doesn't
look active." She shrugged absently. "They probably couldn't get the
software to work."

Chaz shrugged. He didn't foresee a need for it anyway. "So I'm a robotic
Lon Chaney what else?"

Lon Chaney? Sylia made a mental note to check the reference later. "Quite a
bit. You've got two heavy power cells and two power-plants built in. The
first plant is a bio-converter. That one could keep you going on a day to
day basis provided you didn't push yourself. But it looks like it's mostly
for show and to keep up a couple of biological systems supplied. They
probably wanted you to be able to blend in. The other is a miniaturized
fusion plant. I have no idea how they made it so small. But it's damped at
the moment," Sylia seemed puzzled for a moment. "I wonder why?" She filed it
away to be solved later. "Then you have the parts that are actually SUPPOSED
to be in 33-S. A pheromone emitter, hypno-eye, silver tongue, and a neural
stimulator."

"I know what the first couple are. What are those last two for?" Chaz poked
at the diagram.

"There's a modification to your vocal apparatus. It puts out a low frequency
sound that makes people like your voice no matter what it sounds like or
what it's saying. It makes them feel like they're having a gut reaction to
your words," she brushed her hair toward her face trying to hide the
beginnings of a blush. "The second. . .overall, it makes your touch feel
good. It's situated right next to your sex implant. You figure it out,"
Sylia said irritated.

"O...kay" Chaz replied trying to ignore the faint blush of infra-red showing
on her face. "What about my strength? You said I'm stronger than those
razor-dolls. But why? My arms and theirs are about the same size."

Sylia put up a chart on the screen. "Most myomers require a certain amount
of space to provide a certain amount of strength. They provide only so much
for so much power. Up to a point you can force yours to perform at a much
higher level," Sylia pointed to a graph. "Right up to here it's a normal
myomer power consumption chart. Like that boomer's last night. After this
point, where a normal boomers myomers are saturated with power, yours start
consuming a LOT of power for an increase in strength beyond the limit. I
would recommend you NOT try to wrestle a C-55 boomer," she warned. "You
MIGHT win but you would definitely run your power supply way down and damage
your myomers in the process."

"Any chance of you being able to put these in the hardsuits?" Chaz inquired.

"Yes," Sylia moved a copy of the files to her mainframe. "I might even be
able to solve the power problem. The myomer damage, however, is part of the
design unfortunately. You have to take the bad with the good."

"Well if you do manage to fix that design flaw I might make a small
request," Chaz joked.

"Mm...I'll keep it in mind," Sylia looked back at the screen and her eyes
widened. "Well you won't have to worry about repairs too often anyway.
There's what looks like an advanced, directed nanite repair center spread
throughout your body. Barring actual dismemberment or a direct hit on your
brain you should be able to heal most things given time. It's another power
hog system. I'm beginning to see why they thought the fusion plant was
necessary. If they started making combat boomers like this. . ." her voice
stopped.

"What?" Chaz glanced at the screen. There, two clearly labeled subsystems
were highlighted. "X-ray lasers. Jesus! Look at the power consumption. Where
are the weapons ports for those?" he asked feeling carefully around his
chest.

Sylia typed a couple of queries into the system. "Remember those areas in
the palms we saw," She asked. Chaz nodded. "Well those lasers are linked by
a fiber-optic cable to those ports and to a couple of finer fiber optics in
your index fingers. I hadn't even heard about periscopes for X-ray lasers
yet." She paused thoughtfully. "Someone's going to be very upset when they
find out your body is missing. I don't think it was ever intended to be
discarded."



Madigan stormed out of the Chairman's office. She was more than upset. She
was outraged. And she knew who to blame. That she couldn't prove it only
made her angrier. That bastard Mason! Somehow she knew he was behind this.

The chairman had not been very understanding when she showed him the damage
report. Billions flushed down the drain. Most of it unrecoverable because of
the fire. The experimental model should have survived and would have made up
for the loss itself in time. But it couldn't be found. Mason had probably
spirited it off to claim as his own later. Worst of all, the research had
all disappeared and the two scientists responsible for most of the new
developments were dead. The Chairman hadn't demoted her but he HAD made it
absolutely clear that the next screw up wouldn't mean a demotion. It would
be MUCH more serious than that. At least, she consoled herself, Mason hadn'
t managed to spirit away the research on the next generation boomer brain.
Even without the body, that was an achievement in itself. The new brain
series used Dr. Stingray's original research to produce a brain superior to
the mass produced GENOM brain and better than the original 33-S series. She
smiled grimly to herself. Now all she had to do was keep it out of Mason's
hands.



Quincy sat alone in his office watching the rain fall. His stony features
held no expression as his eyes tracked the path of raindrops down the glass.
Those who didn't know him would have thought he was at peace. They would
have been VERY wrong. The less he showed on the outside the more activity
was going on inside.

Mason had moved against Madigan. That much was obvious. Oh, Nothing that
could be traced back to him of course. But it was obvious just the same.
Expected even. Quincy frowned. But to destroy such a promising project and
the research needed to re-create it was going too far. Mason had to learn
that GENOM, the company, came first. Everything else had to work within that
framework. How to point this out to him? That was the question foremost in
Quincy's mind. He'd punished Madigan as a matter of course. She'd been in
charge of the project. It was her responsibility. But how to punish Mason?
If he did it overtly he'd appear to be arbitrary. No one could accuse Mason
after all. No one alive. Mm...What if Mason thought one of those three
scientists had survived? That should worry him enough to where he would
consider his actions more carefully next time. Yes, That would do nicely. In
the loneliness of his office, below the sound of rain beating on the glass,
Quincy laughed.



Linna finished her post workout stretch while the members of her class
slowly headed for the door. She'd felt badly about leaving Irene at Sylia'
s by herself, but it was important to keep up appearances. When the last of
her students had left, she wandered back to the locker-room to shower and
change.

Clothes were thrown in a bag to be washed later. Walking onto the slowly
cooling tile, she turned the shower on. Scrubbing quickly she rinsed herself
off and moved to the hot tub. Ahh... Her head slowly fell back against the
side of the tub as the tension oozed from her body. The ONLY way to end a
workout. She usually wasn't a private person, but when she needed privacy
she headed for a small body of hot water. From the depths of her memory came
a quote from her mother. "When the going gets tough, the tough take a bath."
It had seemed, at times, in her childhood that her mother had solved most of
her problems that way. Somewhere in the back of her mind she probably still
associated the warmth of the tub with her mothers arms.

The lithe dancer rolled over so that her head rested on her arms and her
breasts pressed against the side of the tub. What were they going to do with
Chaz? Not quite right. What was Sylia going to do with Chaz? In the past
couple days he'd managed to find them and convince Sylia to take him in, at
least temporarily. If he left he'd be a risk. If he stayed it would be just
as bad. For that matter what were they going to do with Irene? GENOM had
tried once and would probably try again. They couldn't keep rescuing her at
the last minute. Sooner or later there would be a slip up.

Linna sucked in a breath of steam laden air and let it out slowly. At least
she didn't have to make those kind of decisions. Sometimes it was nice not
being in charge. Linna languidly closed her eyes and let the hot water wipe
the last trace of coherent thought from her mind.



Mason stormed down the hall from the elevator to the Chairman's office. He
tried to control his expression. But it was useless. Anger practically
screamed from every pore. Minor functionaries with even a hint of a sense of
mortality scurried out of his way.

Damn it! he fumed. Dr. Nakamada was alive! The old man himself had told him.
In a coma, but alive! If Nakamada ever came out of it and told what he knew.
Mason shivered. His life wouldn't be worth anything. He'd have to move the
whole project out of the tower. There was too much chance of it attracting
attention now. He should have been more careful.

He had thought it was clever to place Nakamada's body with those scientists
of Madigan's. As planned a rogue experimental C-55 had been blamed for the
carnage. He should have made sure the doctor was dead himself! He should
have held onto Madigan's prototype too, he admitted to himself. The Chairman
was right, the research material lost could have been very useful. Even the
prototype itself could have been useful once they replaced it's brain. Too
late now. The prototype was rendered materials by this time. Even its
experimental repair function couldn't bring it back from that. The only
thing he had to show for it was that body on the slab. The Chairman had
insisted on seeing the gaijin's body. He hoped no one thought to examine it.
The missing nervous system would be hard to explain. He should be able to
dispose of it within a couple of days. Mason smiled. It was almost worth it
all to see Madigan's face. When she'd been called in to the old man's office
and seen him standing beside the desk, she'd known. She'd known it was him
who done it. And the worst part was she couldn't prove it!

The thought cooled his anger slightly. That should keep her out of sight for
a few weeks. Now all he had to do was finish off the Knight Sabers off and
find a way to get rid of the old man. The first was business the second,
well, that was business too but it had more pleasure mixed in. The Bu-99CX1
project had been an early success. The research from that was already
pouring into the Lazarus project. He'd been near the top too long to be
denied now. And he was determined. When his time came to die, Mason's killer
wouldn't take his seat the way he would take Quincy's. Mason smiled. Death
would be just the beginning. With GENOM under his control nothing would be
beyond his reach. Nothing!



Sylia sat in the meeting room lost in thought. Nene and Mackie had managed
to lock down the most likely location for the boomer lab where the black box
had been taken. But without Priss any fight they got into would be at a
disadvantage. She hadn't even begun to think about a hard suit for Chaz yet.
Too many problems she decided. Narrow the focus. Should she risk his life
and everyone else's by taking him along? Without a hard suit he'd be at a
disadvantage if any C-class or better boomers showed up. Could she risk not
taking him? If GENOM was involved they would certainly be prepared for them.
If she gave them too long they would find a way to use the black-box. That,
she definitely wanted to avoid. One close range strike from a laser
satellite was too many. The simplest answer was to ask him. Maybe he
wouldn't want to come.



Chaz nodded. "Sure. I'll come. Although I don't know how much help I'll be,"
Chaz said as he lounged in a chair. Priss sat in on the meeting against
Sylia's advisement. Linna and Nene sat on the couch listening intently.
"What am I going to do for a hardsuit? My sub-dermal armor isn't that
great, you know."

Nene's eyes widened as she took in the implications of that statement.
Cyborg modifications like that were more than an asset. If Sylia thought he
could be trusted. "So it's true?" she asked excitedly. "You are going to
join us?"

Linna looked a little more wary. "What sparked the sudden change? The last
I'd heard you were dead set against joining. Something about gruesome
deaths." Linna wasn't to sure about this. Cyborgs in general and boomeroids
in particular had a nasty tendency to go berserk. Still, if Sylia thought he
was okay.

Chaz put on a sour face. "Let's just say I lost my fear of gruesome deaths."

Priss interrupted. "You two seem to be taking this pretty calmly. I mean
considering..."

Sylia stepped in. "That's not important right now Priss. Chaz, you haven't
had any training at all whatever your physical abilities are. If you come,
you're to stay with one of us at all times. Got it?"

Chaz nodded easily, he'd been under orders of one kind or another most of
his adult life. "I gotcha boss."

Sylia winced and looked at the other Knight Sabers.

Linna looked unsure, but nodded.

Nene was practically bouncing. A new Knight Saber! And a guy too! "I'll keep
an eye on him," she said eagerly.

Unhappy, but unable to refute the logic of the choice Sylia nodded. "Yes.
Together you two should be safe enough. We'll leave as soon as it's dark.
I'll see if I can put together a helmet for Chaz so he can stay in contact
with the rest of us."

"What about my built-in radio?" Chaz asked.

"Not powerful enough and the encryption systems use standard GENOM codes,"
Sylia explained.

Chaz nodded. "Yeah. I can see where that would be bad," he was fuzzy about
many things but the whole good-bad thing wasn't one of them.


Chaz reluctantly pulled on the AD police armor Sylia had handed him. It was
kind of awkward and made him think his ears were plugged. Must be one of the
sensors being blocked. He hadn't gotten to the point where he could get a
good response from his AI yet. Oh well. That could be put up with. Having a
boomer rip, what passed for his guts, out couldn't. He reached over and
grabbed the gun he'd selected. This was more to his liking. It was
essentially an updated version of the ADP "Stomach" railgun. A five shot
steel jacketed DPU clip slapped into the base whereas the ADP version had a
three shot manual load. A normal guy would need at least two hands to hold
it. With his increased strength he could do it with one. He just wished that
Sylia had two of the boomer killers.



Mackie sat in the truck waiting for the other Knight Sabers to finish
dressing. Sylia had noticed the camera of course. He wasn't too surprised. A
little disappointed maybe. Oh well. He had tapes of her and the others
anyway. He shifted uncomfortably. He tended to agree with Priss on this. Sis
seemed to trust Chaz. But boomeroids, as a rule, were unreliable. In seven
out of ten, cyber-psychosis set in within four years. No matter what had
been done to their brains. He'd brought the cannon just in case. He'd picked
it out of the armory before Chaz had gone in. If anything went wrong. Well,
the cannon was supposed to be enough to take out a C-55 with one shot. It
should take Chaz out nicely if he became a problem. Feeling better about it,
Mackie turned his attention back to the screen where Nene was just getting
into her softsuit.



"There are four GENOM laboratories in the Kawasaki factory zone. Until
recently two of them have been closed down," Mackie said over the intercom
as he drove towards their destination. "Activity resumed at one since the
explosion. According to the AD police database the truck that left by gate R
headed straight for Kawasaki."

Nene, dressed in her hardsuit, sat in front of a computer console. "The
closed lab seems suspicious. It was a terrible place with a history of
'research accidents.' It was finally shut down six years ago when 12 people
were killed."

Sylia stood behind Nene. "Boomers I'll bet."

Mackie dropped off the expressway and turned into the large industrial park.
"They were developing fusion power sources which would have utilized a
special resin to induce the reaction. It was probably boomer-related work
though."

In the back of the truck the rest of the team finished suiting up. Chaz put
on Sylia's new helmet and adjusted his flak suit. It wouldn't really help
much against incoming fire but it should give him a fighting chance. He'd
also grabbed his boomer killer. In theory his lasers were more powerful. But
better safe than sorry. A brief wave of disorientation swept through him.
Irritatedly Chaz took off the helmet. "This damn thing's messing up my
enhancements. Every couple of seconds I get a feeling like an itch across my
eyes and back in my ears. I can't tell if the AI is adjusting or not."

Sylia reached over and plucked it out of his hands. "I'll remove the shell
and then you can just use the headset built in. The helmet wasn't armored
very heavily anyway," she apologized, as she handed it back. "I didn't have
the time."

Mackie yelled from the front. "Final warning!" They'd forgone the gate to
gain a few more seconds of time. A grin spread across the teens face. God he
loved this part of the job.

Sylia, Linna and Nene slapped on their helmets. Linna boarded her motoroid
as it sat on its drop arm.

"You might also want to do something about your face," Sylia warned Chaz.

Oh yeah. He'd forgotten about that. Mason knew what he looked like. Smiling,
he pictured Alec Guinness's face in front of him and cued up the disguise
program. His face itched for a few seconds than stopped. That should do it.
"Well?"

"Sugoi!" Nene exclaimed. "You can do that with any face?" A sudden jolt kept
him from answering.

Mackie rammed the thick fence and pulled the armored vehicle into a tight
spin as Linna's bike dropped from the side.

"Knight Sabers, Go!" Cried Sylia as she took off.



Sitting in his chair in the lab Mason raised a toast to the Knight Sabers'
demise and the birth of the Super-Boomer. Around him a group of razor dolls
scrambled out to meet them. He didn't really expect them to stop the Knight
Sabers, but it should give the Super-Boomer enough time to finish charging.
Stopping in mid-self-congratulation Mason looked at the screen more closely.
Who the hell was that? A Knight Saber was missing and had been replaced by
what looked like an old man with AD Police body armor and a heavy gun. One
of the regular members must be hurt. Or is this what the Blue one looks like
without his hard suit? Amazing! Using armor to disguise not only the face
but the gender of their bodies. He never would have thought of it. The hard
suit must have been too damaged to repair in time. Rather than go in
shorthanded they'd pulled this. Well he shouldn't be much of a problem.
Perhaps the razor dolls might be of some use after all.



Nene had it! That's where the damn thing was! "Now I've gotcha!" she said as
she transmitted the location to the others.

Running through the industrial plant to try keep up with Nene, Chaz almost
missed the razor doll that exploded out of the shadows ahead of Nene. "Nene!
look out!" he warned.

Nene, intent on the black box signal, had missed the boomer. With an almost
casual motion the death machine clothes-lined Nene knocking her across the
floor. Dismissing the oncoming human as the lesser threat, the boomer popped
its claws to face Nene. Nene, frightened, raised her arm and fired round
after round of machine-gun ammo. The boomer, at first concerned about the
hail of fire, dropped its arm when it became apparent that the shots were
doing no damage. Nene, seeing the same, scrambled in an attempt to get away.
The boomer raised its arm and rushed to attack.

"Get away from her you bitch!" Chaz, holding the heavy weapon like a hand
gun, fired a round that took off the boomer's upswept arm. God! He'd always
wanted to say that! Firing round after round he managed to nick the quickly
evading boomer a couple more times before the clip ran out. Oh Shit!

The damaged boomer realized its targets mistake and lunged at the now
unarmed human. The vicious machine swiped at Chaz as he dropped his gun
slicing deep into his body armor. One more slash and the human would be a
non-problem. It pulled its hand back to drive its claws into the opening.
Only to feel its remaining arm grabbed in a vise-like grip. The boomer
reacted by trying to wrench its arm free and was shocked to realize it
couldn't.

Ignoring the ineffectual kicking from the helpless boomer Chaz stood up and
dropped the "Stomach". Holding the frantically struggling boomer completely
off the ground with one hand, Chaz slowly twisted the boomers arm behind it.
Using his free hand, he gripped the boomer's head by the chin. With a squeal
of busting metal he tore it off and dropped it next to the still twitching
body.

"So much for that," Chaz said, as he shrugged off his ruined body-armor and
picked up his gun. "It was slowing me down anyway. Nene you all right?"

Nene, shaken, got to her feet. "I'm fine. I thought I was supposed to be
watching you."

He shrugged expressively. "Whatever works," Chaz said, reloading his gun.
"Come on we'll be late for the party."

"That was such a great shot!" Nene said as they ran. "You took its arm clean
off!"

The Guinness clone snorted. "It was the worst shot ever seen," Chaz
explained, "I was aiming for its head! Damn recoil threw my aim all to
hell."



Linna had her own problems. The first razor doll had managed to knock her
off her motoroid before she could react. Now two of the damned things had
her cornered in the pipe-filled passage. She'd managed to get in a few cuts
with her mono-molecular ribbons, but the two of them still seemed to be in
pretty good shape. The dark hared boomers arm made a quick arc, spraying
Linna with a series of fingernail spikes. But Linna wasn't there anymore.
Springing over the incoming fire, Linna flipped into a handspring, using the
knuckle bomber on the blonde boomer's head as she passed. Using the
additional lift the shaped explosive charge gave her, Linna turned as she
soared and watched the now headless body fall. The second boomer, seeing the
fate of its companion, extended its claws and charged. Linna ducked inside
the swing and snapped her ribbons through the boomer's exposed leg,
crippling it. Going into a ballet spin Linna whipped her ribbons into a
swirl. Seconds later, the last of the boomer's recognizable parts clattered
into a pile at her feet. Giving a mental bow quickly to an unseen audience,
Linna raced on.



Sylia ducked under the swing of the razor dolls claws. The first, already
dead, lay at her feet a metal pole protruding from its abdomen. That boomer
had sadly underestimated the enhanced strength of the hardsuit and had paid
the price. The second was actually proving to be a problem. Deciding that
close range combat wasn't necessary, Sylia allowed the boomer's follow up
kick to impact on her chest armor. Denting a few pipes in her landing, Sylia
gained a target lock with her auto-cannon and blew a hole clear through the
onrushing boomer's head. Mm... A little slow today. Making a mental note to
do an extra workout this week Sylia rushed into the building.



Mason watched the screens before him without expression. The Knight Sabers
had performed better than he had expected. The boomeroid had been a big
surprise. No wonder he'd been willing to go into combat without a hard-suit.
With his backup to help protect him and the railgun he could fight at almost
full efficiency. This explained why GENOM had always had trouble duplicating
the hard suits. The assumption had been that the people inside were
completely human. Obvious in retrospect. Well, when the Super-Boomer
finished them off there would be plenty of time to examine the remains. The
warm up was over. It was time for the end game.



Linna rounded the corner into a darkened, wide open area and nearly attacked
Sylia when she came out of another side tunnel. "Where's Nene and Chaz?" she
asked concerned.

"Delayed," Sylia started to scan the area. Her sensors weren't anywhere near
as powerful as Nene's, but they should be able to pinpoint the Black Box
emissions.

A low growl, emanating from an alcove, caught their attention. Back in the
shadows a spark of electricity flared and a pair of neon blue eyes lit up.
With a roar of fuel being eaten hungrily by ram jets a mammoth, red boomer
came charging out of the darkness to slam into Sylia, knocking her aside.

"Sis the laser satellites have aligned themselves to the same frequency as
with Cynthia," Mackie said worriedly over Sylia's headset, as she righted
her self and landed.

Linna, rushing forward, flipped to the top of the giant. Readying the
knuckle bomber, the nimble dancer quickly brought it down on the boomer's
head. As the explosion cleared she felt the grip of the boomer's hands on
her armored leg. With a convulsive movement it tossed her away as if she was
a rag doll. Looking up she saw the boomer, largely untouched by the blast,
opening its mouth to fire its multiple beam particle cannon. Sylia recovered
her feet and tackled Linna in time to avoid the blast. From an entryway
behind the boomer she saw Nene and Chaz run into the chamber.



Nene immediately began scanning the giant boomer. "Sylia that thing just
sent a signal to the satellite." As if in confirmation of her pronouncement
a pillar of light that stretched from the sky exploded into the complex
vaporizing steel and concrete. The aftermath swept the wind into a hurricane
and hurtled dust everywhere.

"Shit!" Chaz was shocked. It had been one thing to see those beams from a
distance but up close they were truly awesome. Leveling the gun with both
hands at the boomer Chaz emptied the clip into its back. "Fuck me!" he said,
dropping the gun and running forward. "Not a scratch!" he watched as the
heavy projectiles were forced out of the boomer's thick fusion armor, to
drop on to the pavement.

The boomer turned, its sensors registering the heavy impacts from behind.
Sylia, seeing their chance, nodded to Linna. Linna, still a little shaky,
sprang into the air, in a repeat of her earlier attack and scored a direct
hit on the boomer's head. Following right after Linna's attack, Sylia landed
on the boomer's head as it tried in vain to grab the much more alert Linna.
She quickly placed her hands atop its head and emptied her autocannons
through the weakened armor blowing off the enraged monstrosities head.

Nene checked her systems. Mouthing a word that Mackie would be surprised she
knew, she opened her com-link. "Sylia! The satellite is still aligned but
the control signals are erratic. It's out of control!" Nene yelled as she
tried to block the strong signal.

Chaz raised his hands towards the boomer and commanded the lasers to fire.
Deep inside his chest a slight warmth spread. A millisecond later
near-invisible beams of power lanced out from his palms at the mortally
wounded boomer. Melted and vaporized armor exploded away from the impact
points as the beams cut through the arm joints and deep into the boomers
midsection.. The black box, nicked by a beam, missed a coordinate set and
substituted its current location for the missing data.

Nene's eyes widened as her hard-suit deciphered the last bit of transmitted
information. "The satellite is locking in on this whole complex. We have to
get out of here!" Nene yelled as the others watched the boomer violently
explode.

Activating their thrusters the three armored Knight Sabers took to the air
to get away from the impending laser strike.

Sprinting to try to keep up with the flying Knight Sabers, Chaz felt the
first impact from the laser satellites beam behind him and jumped forward
curling into a ball. The blast picked him up and hurled after the others. A
sharp jolt lanced briefly through him as a piece of shrapnel imbedded itself
in his back. He landed heavily on the roadway and resumed his run to the
truck.



Mason was disgusted. After the Super-Boomer's head had been wrecked he had
seen the writing on the wall and scrambled into his limo. He had been so
close! The armor on the Super-Boomer had performed beautifully. If it hadn't
taken so long to sight in the laser satellite the Super-Boomer would have
won! He looked over his shoulder at the disintegrating aqua city. The
satellite would continue to pound the complex until the black box ceased its
transmission. He hadn't even managed to kill off the unarmored one. That
galled. The old man was going to be pissed. With good reason, he had to
admit. Mason waved his driver towards the tower and started rehearsing his
explanation.



Sylia, Linna, Nene and Chaz sat on Mackie's truck and watched as the laser
struck the facility again. "Sis the Black Box transmission has stopped. The
satellites are standing down."

"Ah! There goes our twenty million!" Nene wailed.

Sylia jumped down. "It's just as well. I don't think I could have given it
back to USSD."

Linna took up the cry. "What do you mean 'It's just as well.' Were talking
twenty million here. Twenty million!"

Chaz looked at the descending laser strike. "It's time to go home," he said
wearily as he rubbed at the spot where the shrapnel had been removed. The
damn spot itched horribly. Better than pain, he supposed. He could ignore
the itch. Kind of. Grumbling, he slid the van's door closed.

The Knight Sabers van rolled towards Mega-Tokyo proper and home.

    Source: geocities.com/tokyo/4749

               ( geocities.com/tokyo)