Here is the last known revision of Nemesis.
        As before, all praise/blame goes to Marco de la Cruz
<marco@chinook.physics.utoronto.ca>
        Don't worry, X-Change Students is alive and well.
 
HTG
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                                    *


             There is no passion in the mind of a man so weak,
             but it mates and masters the fear of death. And
             therefore, death is no such terrible enemy, when
             a man hath so many attendants about him that can
             win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over
             death; love slights it; honour aspireth to it;
             grief flieth to it



    The man studied the screen intently. As the numbers
scrolled incessantly, the rapid flicker of the pixels clearly
reflected on his glasses. The effect was hypnotic, and the man
hadn't blinked for several seconds. Suddenly, the flow
stopped. The column of numbers, now frozen, could be easily
read:

    0.00224
    0.00221
    0.00219
    0.00217

A few seconds later, a new value appeared. And then
another. And another. This time, however, instead of a quick,
steady stream, the column advanced slowly, as if a great
effort had to be made in order to display the next number.

Impatiently, the man repositioned the cursor on the
screen. His fingers blurred as he rapidly typed on the
keyboard:

    > su genom
    Priority: 3
    Password1:
    Password2:

    #> top

He studied the output for a few seconds, and proceeded to kill
the offending process. Immediately, the adjacent window came
to life, flickering with renewed vigor.

By the time he had modified the appropriate log files and
covered his tracks, the column froze again. This time,
however, the man proceeded to study the display and then
quickly closed the window in which he had been typing.

    0.00006
    0.00003
    0.00001
    1.3527 - 0.0002i

    >

    "Good," he thought, "the flow is stable. Genom's new toy
should have no problem with the hypersonic hydraulics"

A beeping sound, which reverberated throughout the deserted
lab, startled the man. He pressed a button on his wristwatch
to silence the annoying noise and checked the time: 1:37
a.m. He logged out of his account, took the coat and scarf
that hung from the back of his chair, and headed for the
exit. As he walked along the empty corridors, he could almost
feel how dozens of small videocorders captured every move he
made. For some time after arriving to Genom, he would distract
himself during these midnight walks by trying to pinpoint the
location of the hidden cameras. He smiled as he recalled how
verifying his guesses was the first thing he did after
cracking into Genom's superuser accounts. He also remembered
the first time he peeked into the company's highly classified
directories, and quickly hurried his pace to get out of the
building.

    "Next stop, Kimagure station"

The gentle swaying of the train had always had a soothing
effect on him.  He actually enjoyed these metro rides, and as
the empty train moved along swiftly, he would let his thoughts
wander. He thought about the face some poor guy would make in
the morning when he discovered his job had "crashed". A memory
fault would be found to be the culprit, and in a couple of
hours the holomemory would be replaced. He was sometimes
amazed at how calmly the technicians took these mysterious
equipment "defects". For a company that supposedly
manufactured, among other things, the most advanced combat
gear, they were sure lax when it came to scrutinizing these
inexplicable failures. On the other hand, he had always viewed
Genom's military products with contempt. Big bloated robots
with the firepower of a warship, but with the brains of a
pocket calculator. He knew the crippled servos he was
designing would only make a marginal improvement on their
performance, but it would be enough to obtain the bonus he
wanted. Installing them in a power suit, which would have far
more dramatic effects, was out of the question. No matter how
well protected, its occupant would be crushed when he suddenly
found himself accelerated at 30 g's. The only thing that had
worried him were the smaller humanoid cyborgs. In spite of
their limited power source and primitive weaponry, these
machines had become quite agile, and the new technology would
easily make them the most powerful assault force the military
had ever seen. But his fellow scientists were simply too
ignorant to realize that the synaptic incompatibility which
rendered the servos useless on the GC-XX series had been
designed that way from the start. He really couldn't blame
them for their oversight, however. After all, it had taken him
nearly two years to understand the complex engineering and
subtle physical processes that made such motors possible, and
he had had a real working model to study from the start.

    "Roppongi station"

As he stepped out he noticed a small plate attached to the
train's exit door. It read only one word: GENOM.

Wrapping the scarf around his neck, he walked out of the
station and was soon engulfed by the cool night's fog.

-----

    The haze in the bar was not unlike the one on the
streets. It too hampered visibility, but it also had a sour
odour to it. A quiet melody could be heard in the background.

The man looked around and immediately spotted the bartender
waving at him. He took off his coat and scarf and proceeded to
walk towards the bar. To his surprise, almost half the seats
were occupied, but his "reserved" spot was empty, as usual.

    "I see business is improving," he said, as he sat down.

    "Yeah, things sure are picking up around here. Word gets
around, you know," said the bartender in a low voice, as he
motioned towards the corner of the bar.

There, illuminated by a dim spotlight, sat a little girl. She
was playing a small synthesizer which she held upon her
lap. With her eyes lightly shut, she was softly singing. The
tune was slow and fragile, and the words she spoke about false
hopes and lost loves were sad and bittersweet.

    "Hollow men can stop you,
     with the twinkling of an eye
     Hollow men can take you,
     without even reaching out
     Hollow men have got you,
     long before you realize..."

    "The poison paralyses"

When she finished, everyone remained in complete silence. The
girl herself sat motionless, without opening her eyes. Very
slowly, as if it were made of crystal, she carefully laid down
the instrument and gently looked up towards the bar. Her face
suddenly lit up, her large honey eyes opening wide.

    "Very nice, Little Girl!" said the bartender.

    "Beautiful indeed," said the man, as the girl ran to him
and gave him a hug, "I don't think I've heard that music
before"

    "It's a very old song," answered the girl, "I just found
it at the library this morning"

    "This morning?" exclaimed the bartender, "I think our
Little Girl here is going to be a star in no time!"

    "And I'm starting to write my own songs, too"

    "Is that so? How about that, doc?" he added as he gave the
girl a quick wink.

    "As long as she dedicates the first one to me, eh "Little
Girl"?"  said the man, smiling. He glanced at his watch. "It's
almost three, we should be on our way home"

    "Is it?" the bartender looked at the clock that hung on
the wall above the bar, "My, but it's already past closing
time!"

As they left the bar and started walking down the empty
streets, they could hear sirens wailing from far away. The fog
had cleared, and except for the sound of their footsteps,
everything had soon become quiet. Neither of them felt the
need to talk, and perhaps it was the sharing of this silence
which most eloquently spoke about their relationship. Both
enjoyed the freshness of the night, the glow of the moon
shining overhead and their mutual company.

Nothing else really mattered.

-----

    Leon really hated the night shift. And it wasn't only
because boomers seemed to check in for work after midnight,
but he was really tired of watching all those crappy afternoon
sitcoms. As the flaming AV flew over his head, he was
seriously considering buying the 2-head VCR he had seen the
other day.

    "Sir! We've lost unit 3!"

Leon looked at the officer. Hell, maybe he should just go for
a 4H one. He pressed the SND button on his WT

    "Where the fuck are those choppers?!?"

    "Ten minutes!"

    "Make it five, dammit!" he turned to the officer, "Get the
backups!  I want them to flank the bastard from the east and
west! Regroup everything else we've got left to the north, and
BLAST HIM! Do you understand? I don't care what it takes, when
those choppers get here that sunnaovabitch better be south of
the Keio highway! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!?"

    "Yes, Sir!"

    "God I love this job," he thought, as he drew his gun. He
ran towards the barrier the A.D. police had made with their
vehicles. Taking cover behind one of the cars, he peeked over
the hood.

A few dozen meters away the boomer was firing back at the AV's
that where approaching from its left. One of the vehicles
exploded, and Leon quickly stood up and fired away, emptying
his gun. He was an excellent marksman, and soon the concussive
bullets were exploding all over the mecha's chest.

Unfazed, the boomer pointed the 20 mm cannon in its arm
towards the direction of the incoming bullets and fired.

The vehicle next to the one Leon had taken cover exploded in
flames. The blast sent the two men behind it flying backwards,
their mangled bodies making some extremely unhealthy postures.

    "This is NOT good," thought Leon.

He looked over the car and saw that the boomer was now
gleefully blowing away the second backup unit. The helicopters
would be there any second and they hadn't been able to move it
an inch. Unless he found a way to get the boomer into the
deserted district beyond the highway, the ADX-II missiles the
choppers were carrying would quickly solve the overpopulation
problem of the neighbourhood they were currently in. As he
reached for his WT to call off the attack, he saw the two
aircraft approaching swiftly in close formation.

Suddenly, he heard a scream directly above him. He jerked his
head upwards and saw the officer he had spoken to only minutes
ago flying through the air directly towards the choppers. The
desperate shriek of terror ended abruptly as his body smashed
against the rotor's blades and violently exploded in a
firework of blood. The boomer had thrown him with such force
that the helicopter tilted to one side, crashing into the one
beside it. Both exploded in a huge orange ball of fire.

    "So much for plan B," he thought, as he put away his WT.

He looked back at the boomer. It had taken up finger painting
the walls of a nearby building with the remaining backups. It
reminded him of that Rorschach test he had taken a month ago.

Things were definitely getting out of hand.

The boomer then slowly turned around, scanning the area for
any possible "threats". When it detected none, it started to
head towards Leon.

    "Seems it was saving me for dessert," he muttered to
himself, as he quickly reloaded his gun.

The boomer was closing in fast. Leon knew he had only one
chance. He had once stopped a 55-C with a single bullet
directly in the eye. This fucker was much tougher, but it was
his only hope. Leon stood up from behind the car and carefully
began to aim. The boomer could have blown him away long ago,
but it seemed to have something special for him in mind.

    "Probably a good-bye hug," thought Leon as he pointed his
gun.

The boomer was less than twenty meters away. Sweat began to
get into his eyes. His finger tightened around the trigger.

    "Don't miss now, you hear?"

Leon fired. The bullet flew over the boomer's head, missing it
by almost half a meter. Suddenly, its left side exploded, and
the boomer was violently thrown sideways. To the right, a
Knight Saber stood, pointing her arm at the boomer. The
mechanical monster quickly stood up, not really damaged, and
prepared to attack. The Knight Saber, however, turned on her
thrusters and headed south at full speed. The boomer did
likewise, and flew off in pursuit of its new target.

Leon spun around in time to see the blue Knight Saber behind
him leap in the air and turn on her own jets.

    "Ta-ta"

Blue then immediately darted down the street, following the
boomer.

    "Bitch," thought Leon, smiling.

-----

The man couldn't sleep. As he stared at the ceiling above his
bed, he could hear gunshots in the distance. They didn't worry
him, however, as he heard the police raging their battles
against Genom's robots almost every night. So far, they had
been lucky. The abandoned district in which the building stood
seemed to be of no interest to the boomers, or more precisely,
the people who controlled them. Indeed, why should it?
Evacuated years ago due to a chemical leak, the survivors
never returned to it. Fear of contamination and a host of
urban ghost stories had done most of the job. Gangs would
sometimes roam the streets, but would soon get bored and move
on. Only a few hobos spent a night now and then in one of the
dozens of empty buildings. It wouldn't last, however, as
planning of a new complex was underway, although nobody knew
it yet (except for the few privileged with access to Genom's
real estate secret computer archives). He didn't care. He knew
there were things far more dangerous lurking in MegaTokyo's
innards, and they weren't greedy developers or even crazed
boomers. Leaving the city as soon as possible had become a top
priority.

A particularly powerful explosion interrupted his train of
thought. He got up and headed towards the window. He saw
columns of thick, black smoke rising not far away.

    "Is everything O.K.?"

He turned towards the girl, who was peeking inside his bedroom
just outside the door.

    "I don't know," he answered, truthfully.

She entered the room and stood beside him, looking out the
window. The building were they lived was located on a street
corner, and the room's window looked down at the intersection
from the second floor.

Suddenly, two figures appeared. As they reached the cross-
road they separated in opposite directions, and took cover
behind a building on each side of the street.

The man studied them intently. He had certainly heard about
the existence of the Knight Sabers, and probably knew more
about them than almost anybody else. After all, he had spent
days reading the hundreds of files and records on them that
Genom kept stored in the computer. The technology within their
suits clearly surpassed anything Genom had to offer, which, in
his mind, was not much to say. But he had never actually seen
them in real life, and was very curious to see how they
performed in combat.

A third Knight Saber came flying through the intersection, and
when he saw the boomer hot on her trail, he knew his wish
would come true.

He recognized the boomer instantly. A BC-13C. Stupid but very,
very tough. Things were getting more interesting by the
moment.

Just as he expected, the mechanical moron flew right into
their trap. He was impressed by the way Green sharply turned
the corner, while the boomer, with its greater momentum,
almost crashed into the building he was in. The three Knight
Sabers now stood behind it, aiming their weaponry. As the
boomer turned around to face them, they fired.

Three blazing blue pencils of light hit the boomer directly on
the chest.

Bad idea.

Just last month a lab technician was telling him about how
they finally managed to incorporate a new highly effective
multilayer phase conjugation coating into the BC-13 series'
ceramic composite armour. Instead of absorbing or specularly
reflecting the beam, it simply bounced backwards. The energy
feedback had destroyed one of the HyperYAG lasers had they
used during testing, he told him.

The feedback, however, took time, and the Knight Sabers
weren't stupid. The argon lasers shut down immediately (and
automatically, the man correctly assumed), but the element of
surprise had vanished and the mecha now had the tactical
advantage. It managed to maintain its perfect record of
ineptitude by retaliating in the worst possible manner: a
three way attack. As the 20 mm cannon raged against White on
its left and the rocket launcher fired towards Green at its
right it headed straight for Red in front while vomiting a
blue ray of light. Both White and Green evaded the attack
easily, but Red, for some reason, chose to set up some sort of
barrier shield in front of her. Although it protected her from
the laser blast, it didn't prevent the boomer from smashing
into her, grinding her into the concrete street.

    "That has GOT to hurt," thought the man.

Indeed, the Knight Saber wasn't getting up, and the boomer
lifted its right fist to deliver the final blow. Suddenly, the
boomer seemed to explode, and it flew backwards across the
street, smashing against the building from where they were
watching. The whole structure trembled, but the man was too
fascinated by the fight to worry about his own safety. He
didn't notice the little girl at his side glancing
apprehensively at him.

The brutal attack had been fulminating. White had punched the
boomer in the "ribs", just below its right arm. It was one of
its weakest spots, and the force of the blow combined with the
explosive insertor in White's fist had ripped apart most of
its power supply. At the same time, Green lashed a
mono-streamer directly through the boomer's neck, severing its
head (not that it was of much use, anyway, he thought,
chuckling). In an impressive display of agility she had used
the other whip to cut off the boomer's left arm at the
elbow. Last but not least, Blue was now standing right down
the street, smoke coming out of her densematter gun.

While the Knight Sabers attended their fallen comrade, the
boomer appeared just below the window. Its secondary brain in
its stomach, only slightly more primitive than the one in its
head, had somehow managed to get it up again. But it was in
very bad condition. Gusts of dark green hydraulic liquid
spurted from its neck and severed arm. Its rocket launcher was
useless, the energy supply quickly loosing power. It was
incapable of doing anything, and was just about to fall over
when suddenly Blue stood up from where Red was lying. She
pointed something which looked like some sort of gun, but the
nozzle's size was much too large for normal bullets. The
boomer was already on one knee, faltering.

Blue fired. As the rocket flew in the boomer's direction, the
man felt himself violently jerked back.

    "Wha...?"

With lethal precision the rocket's armour piercing tip
penetrated the headless boomer's chest, sending it reeling
backward, crashing into the weakened building behind it. It
went through a couple of walls and fell on its back. Within
its chest the highly explosive charge went off. The whole
building immediately collapsed in a huge cloud of pulverized
concrete.

Deep beneath the rubble lay two motionless bodies. The smaller
one lay on top the larger, hugging it, as if trying to shield
it. The crushed corpse between the girl's arms, however, made
it clear that she had failed.

-----