Jack Frost
Another Story of Bubblegum Crisis

----
(c) Michael White, June 1996
Author's Note: Anything that isn't original in here belongs to someone else.
If you're that
someone else, don't sue me please! This thing is intended for FREE
distribution! Oh, if you're
looking for the usual author ramblings, they're at the bottom.
----

Episode 3: When Lightning Strikes Twice

----

(<July 12, 2031. NovaRobotics Corporate Headquarters, Sable City>)

	"So tell me," the woman at the head of the oblong table said quietly, "what
exactly is left of your research?"
	The members of NovaRoboitcs' executive board shifted uneasily in their
chairs, none of them wanting to be the one to answer her, but hoping someone
would.
	"I see. You," she said, pointing to an obese little man sitting at the far
end of the table. "You tell me."
	"Um, yes, well..." he replied nervously, fearing for his job. "We still
have... still have the majority of our nanite research, a.. about half of
our aerospace research, and... and we still have our droid production and
design facility on the south end." He swallowed and pulled at his necktie,
feeling like he was being fed to the lions. The look on the woman's face as
she stared at him did nothing to assuage his fears.
	"And that's it?" she inquired, no change in her calm voice. "The Ice Suit,
Endurium, your companies biggest claims to fame, what of them?" She watched
the fat man intensely, part of her enjoying seeing him sweat like a pig.
Most of her, however, was infuriated with his incompetence.
	He looked around the room, but seeing no escape, continued on. "Well...
uh.... they were stolen... and... uh... the plant where they were
manufactured was... blown up."
	"I know that," she shot back somewhat contemptously. "But you mean to tell
me the reports were true? You actually *lost* all the knowledge of how to
build Ice Suits and process Endurium when that asshole and that little bitch
left?" A tension-filled silence greeted her, answering her question. "So you
mean to tell me that you, the executive board, let your CEO have so much
power that he could walk off with two-thirds of your corporation's research
whenever he felt like it? Have we just bought a majority share in a company
staffed with idiots?"
	The boardmembers stared around uneasily, wondering if they should start
blaming someone else to try and save their jobs. This new CEO of theirs,
this Linda Alden, however, did not seem the type of person to be fooled by
lame excuses. So all they could do was try and hide inside their plush
chairs, attempt to will themselves to turn invisible, and pray for a miracle.
	"Very well," she said finally. "By the end of the day, half of you will be
unemployed. I don't know any of you, and I don't want to know any of you, so
I'll choose those to be fired at random. The other half will be on
probation. Screw up, and you'll wish you'd been fired."
	With that, she got up, packed up her files, and walked out of the room. The
boardmembers all looked at each other, aghast at the way they had been
treated. "My god..." whispered a grey-haired man who had been sitting next
to Alden, "what have we done?"

----

(<July 13, 2031. Personal Journal of Jonathan G. Meyer>)
	"Today was a day like any other. Sarah seems to be getting more and more
withdrawn every time I see her. I'm worried about her... but I suppose she
needs some period of adjustment. I just hope she doesn't come to hate me for
what I did. I still shudder to think about it; I have effecitvely robbed her
of her life due to my own blindness and ambitions. If I wasn't sure this was
all being done for a greater cause, I don't know what I'd do. And even that
knowledge isn't much of a comfort. But I cannot forget that on two occasions
I offered her a chance to get out. I only wish someone had offered me that
choice...
	Two anniversaries approach, neither of them joyous. It has been nearly one
month since I removed the Ice Suit from NovaRobotics' grasp, but that is not
the anniversary that concerns me. This coming Sunday will make it six years
since the death of Iris, my wife-to-be and Sarah's younger sister. I suspect
this is adding to Sarah's depression, but she will not talk with it to me. I
fear she is bottling her feelings inside, and sooner or later they are going
to explode..."

----

(<July 14, 2031. SIODMP Level 11>)
	Things had started going downhill for Sarah just under two weeks ago when
the full impact of their actions had sunk in. Prior to that time, she felt
living down here would be a temporary arrangement that would be over when
Jon pulled some magic trick from up his sleeve and mysitcally banished all
their problems. But she soon came to realize that Jon had no magic tricks,
and that she could very well be trapped inside this... this metal tomb for
the rest of her life.
	At first she had blamed the executive board of NovaRobotics for, as Jon had
put it, trying to corrupt her research. It didn't take long, however, for
the brunt of her blame to be focused on Jon himself for letting things come
to this, and for getting her involved in it. She was angry with him for a
good week before she realized that she had come along on her own free will.
Maybe the choices were somewhat unfair, but she still could've opted out. So
it was then she began to blame herself for allowing people to use her like
they did. Eventually, she came to realize that it was no-one's fault, and
so, emotionally exhausted, she just settled for being depressed at the state
of the world and, more specifically, their predicament.
	Sarah had resumed a lot of the research she was doing at NovaRoboitcs,
using the powerful mainframe their little installation was equipped with.
Even that wasn't enough to lift her spirits, as she realized that there was
a good possibility no-one would ever even hear of her work. She plodded
along anyway, however, because there was simply nothing else to do. As far
as she could tell, her life as a useful member of society was over, ended at
the age of 27.
	But when she couldn't get the same simple experiment to work three times in
the same day, she just couldn't keep it bottled up inside any longer.
	"Damn, damn, DAMN!" she shrieked, punctuating each word with a blow to the
mainframe's keyboard. "Why won't this goddamned piece of CRAP... what's the
fucking point?!?" She savagely hauled the power lever down to the 'off'
position, neatly snapping it in two. "DAMN!!!" she screamed, flinging the
broken lever across the room. Then she collapsed into her chair crying. She
didn't see the lever impact on the wall next to the elevator, just as Jon
was stepping out.
	"Sarah? W..what's wrong?" he asked, unsure of how to confront this
situation he'd been fearing.
	Sarah clung to her chair, crying madly now. "It's this whole damned
mess..." she sobbed. "Has the entire world turned... turned against me?"
	Jon moved up onto the and crouched beside her, trying to console her. He
tried uttering comforting phrases like "It'll be alright" or "Just let it
all out", but they didn't seem to be having any effect.
	"It's just not fair," she said between intakes of breath. "I don't want to
be trapped down here my entire life! I had a career, plans... I wanted a
husband someday, children... a family... and now... I need a life! I need
friends, I need family! W.. what do I have down *here*?!"
	Jon was more than surprised to discover how much her words wounded him. He
looked away from her and found himself asking "What about me?"
	Sarah wiped the tears from her eyes, shocked. "Jon... what are you saying?"
	In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. 'Was this what Iris meant?' he
thought to himself somberly. His mind flashed back to six years ago when, on
a spacecraft plummetting uncontrollably towards the Atlantic ocean, Iris had
convinced the Sarah and Jon to enter an escape capsule under the pretense
that she would join them, only to have her seal the hatch behind him. He
remembered seeing her mouth the words "Take care of each other." She then
kissed her index finger and pressed it up against the tiny escape capsule
window. He could do nothing except bang futilely on the hatch, begging her
to open it and join them, as she blew the capsule clear of the ship. He
watched her fight the autopilot gone haywire in a desperate attempt to avoid
hitting Sable City, a collision that would have wiped out two-thirds of the
platform. She succeeded, but at the cost of her own life as the ship
impacted into the ocean and exploded in a massive fireball just a few
kilometers from Sable City.
	So then here he was, confronted with the aftermath of that tragedy. He was
aware that Sarah was still staring at him, hanging on an answer he didn't
have. He glanced at her, unsure of her feelings and even more unsure of his
own. "I mean that I'm here for you," he said finally. "I... I consider you a
very close friend and I... and your well-being has come to mean a great deal
to me." Upon hearing that, Jon wanted to smack himself. That wasn't what he
wanted to say. What he wanted to say still eluded him, but he knew that
definitely wasn't it. When he got the courage to look over at Sarah,
however, she was offering him a weak smile.
	"Thanks Jon," she said quietly, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes.
"I... it's nice to know I have at least one friend down here..."

----

(<July 19, 2031. 1201 Iseley Avenue>)
	"Nothing?" Lieutenant Maria Perez asked hotly over the phone.
	"Nothing, zip, nada. Not so much as a peep," replied her partner. She
watched him look over his shoulder on the vid-screen and could make out the
illuminated gate of the NovaRobotics Droid Development Plant behind him. "If
our boy is gonna make his move today, he's sure taking his time."
	Maria was herself near a NovaRobotics building, this one the corporate HQ.
They had decided to keep an eye on them on this the sixth anniversary of
Iris McInnely's death. Maria in particular felt that today was going to be
the day Meyer would start issuing demands or blowing up buildings, but after
staking out NovaRobotics institutions for the past 11 hours, it didn't look
like that was going to happen.
	"Fine, fine," she said. "Tell your teams to go home. Tomorrow we're gonna
have to go over our profile of this guy again, it looks like we mighta been
wrong on a few counts."
	"Alright partner," the man said. "Seeya tomorrow."
	Maria hung up the phone and stepped out of the booth into a bitterly cold
wind. Even in July, tempuratures rarely climbed into the twenties, and at
night they could plunge to sub-zero. Maria pulled her jacket tight as she
caught a glimpse of the setting sun in a crack between two skyscrapers. The
clouds to the west reflected and refracted the light, creating a brilliant
display of orange and purple hues. But Maria soon passed into the shadow of
the skyscraper, the setting sun blotted out by a towering mass of glass and
steel...

----

(<July 23, 2031. SIODMP Level 13>)
	July the 19th came and went without the emotional breakdown Jon had been
fearing from Sarah. In fact, if anything Sarah's mental condition had been
improving steadily since the 14th. On the anniversary of that tragic day,
Jon actually found himself discussing Iris' life and death with Sarah. They
laughed over the good memories, cried over the sad, and generally helped one
another get through a difficult day for them both.
	After that, Sarah launched herself into her research with renewed vigor,
with Jon volunteering as her assistant. Whenever she would discover
something, she pledged, she would instantly post it on the Internet in its
entirety so the whole world could benefit from it, so long as that knowledge
was appropriate. It didn't bother her that her work would never be
accredited to her, as she realized such notions to be wrong-headed and
against good scientific principles.
	Memories of the past and events of the present, however, were still fresh
wounds with her. She didn't realize how susceptable she was to them until
Jon tried to teach her how to use a gun...
	"You may need to defend yourself," Jon was saying. "After all, you're a
fugitive now."
	"I know," she retorted, staring at the gun in her hand, "but I still don't
like this."
	"You don't have to like it. In fact, it's better that you don't so you
don't do anything foolish," he replied reassuringly. "It's simple, just
point the gun at the target and pull the trigger."
	Sarah was determined to give it her best effort, despite her discomfort.
She aimed the weapon at the paper target on the far end of the bay. After a
moment of concentration, she pulled the trigger.
	... and her whole world went white ...

----

(<December 14, 2013. Mississauga, Ontario>)
	It was a beautiful winters day in downtown Mississauga. Snow drifted lazily
from the sky, children played merrily in the park nearby, and crowds of
people filled the shop looking for the right gift for that special someone.
	Through it all skipped little Sarah McInnely and her mother, out for a walk
in the snow. Her little sister, Iris the Pest, was with their father
shopping in the mall in Toronto. 'Let them have their mall,' she thought.
'All I want is to play in the snow.' "Mommy," she said, "let's go to the park!"
	Her mother, a beautiful, refined woman in the eyes of her daughter, looked
down and smiled. "Alright, Sarah, but are you warm enough? I don't want you
catching cold."
	"Oh, mommy, I'm plenty warm," she replied, a little impatient with her
fussing. "Now let's go play!"
	Her mother laughed as the rambunctious 8-year old pulled her towards the
park. After safely crossing the intersection, Sarah broke free of her
mother's grasp and ran down the hill towards where the other kids were
playing. Sarah's mother called out to her, so she stopped short and dashed
back to her.
	"Now don't wander off too far," she said, fixing Sarah's scarf."And we can
only stay here a little while, we have to pick up the presents for daddy and
Iris at 3."
	For the next twenty minutes, Sarah frolicked in the snow. She made snow
angels, helped some of the other kids build a snowman, and played tag with
them later. Too soon, however, it was time to leave. Sarah didn't put up too
much of a fuss, mainly because she was too worn out to.
	They had begun walking towards the park exit when screaming could be heard
from behind them. They turned to see a man carrying a paper bag of some sort
running up the pathway, shoving people out of the way. Further back, several
men in black coats with drawn guns were giving chase. As the first man ran
past Sarah and her mother, he spun around as the men in black coats shot at
him, drawing his own gun. People around the park began screaming and running
for cover. Sarah's mother was stooping to pick her up when the first man fired.
	Sarah felt her mother jerk sideways three times, and then she collapsed in
a heap, on top of the little girl. Sarah wiggled out from underneath her
mother, crying, not understanding what was going on. The ground was coated
in blood, and no matter how much she wailed, her mother didn't answer her...

----

(<July 23, 2031. SIODMP Level 12>)
	"Thank god..." Jon whispered as Sarah began coming around. She moaned
softly and her eyes began fluttering open.
	"W... what happened?" she asked weakly. She looked around, surprised to
find herself on the med table on level 2. She touched her face, which was
slick with tears.
	"You went into some kind of seizure." Jon replied. Sarah looked at him,
noticing the haggard look on his face, and was about to tell him she was
alright, when it all came flooding back to her...
	"No!" she screamed. "M... mother!" Sarah's body began shaking violently,
and Jon grabbed her by the shoulders to try and prevent her from passing out
again. She stopped shaking, however, and began crying again. She reached up
and embraced Jon, who was still grasping her shoulders.
	"Just... hold me...." she sobbed. After crying for a few minutes, Sarah sat
back, wiped her eyes and told Jon what she had just experienced.
	"I'm so sorry..." he replied. "I didn't know. Iris told me that her... your
mother was killed but I had no idea..."
	"Jon..." she said quietly, grasping his hands. "Jon, I can't stand it any
more. There are people dying up there... daughters losing thier mothers,
just like I did... fathers losing sons, I... When I told you I'd help you
steal the Ice Suit, I was only telling you... and myself... a half-truth.
It's true I couldn't abide being a part of further killings my discoveries
would bring, but it is equally true that I cannot stand idly by while
innocent people die. I realize this now." Sarah looked around the room, her
gaze stopping at the Ice Suit which stood quietly on the north wall. "Jon,
we've got to help end this madness. My heart tells me I must do something,
that I must *act*, and if you look deep enough I think yours will too. Jon,
we've got the technology down here to really make a difference in this
city... you asked me to help you liberate it... now I'm asking you to help
me use it. Please Jon......"
	'Damn...' Jon said to himself, staring at the floor. Sarah wasn't the only
one with ghosts from the past. Jon had sworn to himself that he'd never get
dragged back into the business of warfare, of killing and destroying, no
matter the cause. Sarah's words, however, had a ring of truth about them.
She was right, it pained him to turn on the news every night and hear of the
increase in suffering in the city above. Since Jon lost NovaRobotics, the
number of boomers in the city had increased by a factor of 12. The SCPD ERT
had been disbanded, the crime rate had shot through the roof... the surface
was turning from the peaceful, model city Jon once knew to a battleground
were the corporation controlled all and the populace lived in fear. Part of
him had wanted to act since the beginning, but there was always a nagging
doubt. Sarah's words, however, had all but eliminated his fears, and he
couldn't help but admire her courage.
	"Very well," he said quietly. "I'm not sure what we can accomplish, but...
I suppose we must try."
	He looked up at her as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's the right
thing to do, Jon." She got up and looked around the expansive bay. "We'll
have to have a talk in the morning... I think we both could use some rest..."

----

(<July 24, 2031. SIODMP, Level 12>)
	"Run a check on the right arm support systems." Sarah called out as she
inspected the hand unit for any imperfections in the joints.
	Jon, seated at one of the consoles near the Ice Suit, tapped a few commands
into the keyboard and waited for the results. He looked over at the Ice
Suit, completely open now and with dozens of cables connected to various
diagnostic and computer systems ports. Then the terminal in front of him let
out a soft tone indicating it had finished its scan. Schematics and systems
reports soon began flashing on the screen.
	"Control units... check. Interface... check. Joints... OK. Servoes... OK.
Solid enviromental seal... Grapnel cord checks out. Data cable OK. Melee
spike OK. Interface panel shows green. Everything seems fine." he called out
to her.
	"Good, good," she replied, manually flexing the hand unit's fingers. "Check
the sensor systems again, will ya? The PTS has never been used in real
combat before, I'm kinda edgy about it."
	"Sure thing," Jon said, typing another series of prompts into the system.
"Infrared through visual through ultraviolet checks out. Motion sensors OK.
Infrared-2 checks out. L/NLIS... check. Radar OK. Electronic emissions
tracker... OK. Sensor relays OK. Missile control interface shows green.
Imaging systems OK. Aaaand.... Profile Tracking System shows no problems."
	Sarah had moved on and had opened the storage compartment in the Ice Suit's
left calf where the extra ammo was housed. She pulled the self-contained
ammo boxes out of their storage slots, checking that they all broke free
without jamming or sticking. "Alright... unlock the thrusters." she
instructed Jon.	"OK... they're... unlocked!" Jon pressed a final key, and
there was an aubible click from the shoulder area of the Ice Suit. Sarah got
up on the platform to the left of the Ice Suit and began swivelling the
thruster through its full range of motion.
	"No jams or sticking," she reported after performing a similar test on the
right thruster. "I'm gonna pull them down into position two." With that, she
hauled the entire thruster assemblage back and down, locking it into place
on the Ice Suit's back. The thrusters couldn't point straight down while
they were mounted on the shoulders, so for events like liftoffs the suit's
operator would drop the thrusters into this position.
	After another thirty minutes of testing things like enviroment seals, the
missile hatches, 
emergency life support, the Endurium coating, and the primary and backup
reactors, Sarah deemed the suit fit for operational status. However, one
problem still remained...
	"I guess I'll be operating it then..." Sarah said somewhat uneasily.
	Jon looked up from his console, shocked. "What?! Sarah..."
	"Don't get all sexist on me, Jon," Sarah snapped, cutting him off. "The
past month has been pretty rough, and I'm not in the mood for it. I designed
the thing, and, no offense, this isn't a job for a former CEO. This is an
entirely different league, and although I've never operated one of these
things before, I'm the best qualified one here." She stared into the padded
interior of the Ice Suit, little med-patches evident on the breastplate and
back near the kidney areas. They were designed to try and keep the operator
alive should they become incapacitated. Sarah shivered unwittingly at that
thought. "So if there are no further objections..."
	For the second time in as many days Jon found himself in the position of
either going back on a pledge or comprimising his morals. It wasn't a fair
choice, as one usually led to the other, but Jon usually decided to do what
he felt was right and let the rest unfold as it may. That was how he had led
most of his life up until this point, and despite whatever hardship choosing
that path had wrought, he wouldn't have it any other way.
	"Do you know.... do you know where I was born?" Jon asked finally.
	"What?" Sarah replied, surprised at the question. "Uhh... Vancouver, wasn't
it? Why?"
	Jon exhaled forcibly. "That's... that's what most of the world believes.
That's what the government records say... that's what I tell anyone who
asks... but... it's not the truth."
	Sarah furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't understand, Jon. What are you saying?"
	"Have you ever heard..." he started uneasily, "have you ever heard of the
Jade Resistance?"
	Sarah's eyes widened in shock. From what she knew, the Jade Resistance was
a sort of enviromentalist para-military orginization that existed in the
early 2010's. The story went that they were a ruthless band of mercenaries,
hired by a handful of crackpots with some kind of Utopian world vision, and
that they would do anything - even kill - to achieve their goal. "You... you
were a *Jade*?" Sarah whispered, still unable to believe it.
	Jon nodded. "I was born into a Resistance camp in the Cameron Highlands in
Malaysia. My father was a medic, my mother a foot soldier. They raised me
there... actually, the whole camp raised me. It wasn't an easy life...
constantly set upon by government troops... by the time I was 14, I could
fire an automatic rifle and had a black belt in Kenpo."
	"How awful it must have been..." Sarah said, still in shock.
	"Awful? Lord no." Jon replied, a bit surprised by that idea. "The public
opinion of the Jades is far from the truth. No matter what you may have
heard, we weren't mercenaries or terrorists, but rather a society of people
who were despairing at what the world was becoming and would give up
anything to stop its downward slide. For every two warriors we had as
members there was a disaffected scientist or professer or philospher... Jade
camps weren't just places were we trained to defend ourselves, they we
bastions of free philosophical thought and areas of unrestricted and
unperverted scientific research. I may have been a burgeoning warrior at 14,
but I had also read all the works of Shakespeare, Homer, Plato... every day,
in addition to our training, we had classes on philosophy, history,
science... far more comprehensive ones than children of my age were
recieving anywhere else. Awful? Hardly. My childhood was one of the fullest
I think I could've had."
	Sarah listened intently, feeling somewhat uneasy about some of these ideals
Jon was espousing. "But if they were such 'bastions of free thought', then
why the guerilla training? And how could you have been born into a Jade
camp? I thought they had formed in the 2010's"
	"We trained because enviromental movements of the past century had proven
that words were not enough. Sound scientific principles were not enough. In
order to get the attention of the world, you needed power. And since we had
no political power, military might was the next best thing." Jon sighed. He
had already told a lot more than he ever wanted to tell anyone, but he
figured he might as well go on. "As for my being born in a Jade camp... the
Jades were founded in 1983 by malcontent members of Greenpeace and some
truly brillant scientists who were dissatisfied by the way their research
was being used. Eventually, all sorts of people found and joined us.
Doctors, lawyers, labourers... 2011 was just when we bacame common knowledge
after one of our camps was spotted by an orbiting satellite."
	Sarah didn't know what to think of Jon now. This certainly explained some
of his odd behaviour, but was he as crazy as the leaders of the Jades were
reputed to be? She wanted an answer to that question, but wound up asking
Jon about his life at the camp, and the death of the Jade movement. Jon
replied that he had recieved an ample schooling, and at the age of 16 was
presented a choice as to what he wanted to become. He could be a warrior,
scientist, philosopher, anything. He thought of becoming a medic like his
father, or possibly a scientist, but ultimately decided to train for combat,
since that was where his real talent was.
	"When I was 17, I was chosen to train in one of the four K-2 powered armor
units we had liberated from a convoy near the Thai border. I suspect part of
the reason for that was my skill at Kenpo, and there's always the axiom of
old dogs learning new tricks... The K-2 was drastically underpowered by
today's standards. Hell, the thing had a hard time ripping sheet metal. It
had a truly elegant control interface, though. In fact, I had the Ice Suit's
interface modelled on it," he explained, gesturing to the powered armor.
"One night our camp came under heavy attack. I was ordered to escort the
children and their guardians to a sympathetic frieghter bound for Japan.
Once there I sold the K-2 on the black market, split the money between us,
and eventually made my way here."
	Sarah shook her head in amazement. "I had no idea... but whatever happened
to the Jade movement?"
	"My guess is that they were simply overwhelmed. But the movement still
exists. Jades are everywhere, they have infiltrated almost all walks of
life," Jon quirked a grin. "Did you know that Norton was a Jade?"
	"Norton?! Norton MacKenzie?" Sarah was flabbergasted. "This is *way* too
much... Listen, Jon, are there any other grand-scale deceptions you want to
tell me about?" she asked, a bit of hostility edging into her voice.
	"No, not really." Jon answered, still grinning.
	"'Not really'," Sarah shot back mockingly. "It's been one helluva month
Jon... so if you have any more bombshells to drop, couldja do me a favor and
keep them to yourself until, say, after Christmas? Thanks..."
	He simply chuckled. "Sorry 'bout all that, but you see why I had to keep
this covered up. And you also see why... why I should be the one to operate
the Ice Suit."
	"I suppose," she replied. "I must admit I wasn't too keen on the idea of
using it myself... but..."
	"C'mon," he said, getting to his feet. "Help me get suited up."

----

(<July 27, 2031, 10:31 PM. Southern Sable City>)
	It was deathly quiet in the alley behind the Caribou Shipping warehouse, a
silence disturbed only by the mewing of the occasional alleycat or passing
of the odd car on the street nearby. The passageway itself was unlit, save
for the meager illumination provided by the star-filled sky.
	One of the aforementioned cats pricked its ears up at the sound of a soft
'ka-chunk' and pnuematic hiss. It spent a moment looking around for the
source of the noise, then returned to its hearty meal of discarded fish
bones. Soon afterwards came two more soft metallic sounds, followed by a
barely-perceptable but distinctly electronic whistle. The cat then decided -
wisely, as it would turn out - to abandon its find and run into one of the
other alleyways branching off from the one it was in.
	In the shadows stalked a boomer, driven mad by the conflicts within itself,
and now wanting only to either destroy all or be destroyed. It crept through
the darkness searching for a victim, unaware that it too was being stalked.
The boomer heard a clang behind it and spun around in time to see another
cat leap from a garbage pail, knocking the lid down as it did. It was about
to continue on when it heard a more disturbing sound coming from one of the
branching alleys behind it.
	'Kisshh-chunk, kisshh-chunk, kisshh-chunk...'
	The boomer turned slowly, intent on not making a sound, ready to pounce.
There was... *something*... in the darkness of the alley, what, it could not
tell.
	'Kisssshhhh---chunk'
	Whatever it was took one step forward, and the boomer could make out
contours in the reflected starlight... a few sharp angles... whatever it
was, it was humanoid... and *large*
	'Sschunk!'
	The boomer balked as the figure's left arm snapped up. The arm ended in a
cone-shaped tip with an ominous-looking barrel in the center, the entire
assemblage pointed straight at the boomer. It decided it had waited long
enough and let out a mechanical roar, starting its charge towards the figure.
	The next three seconds were filled with fire and thunder as a hail of
bullets riddled the boomer. It fell, almost completely disintegrated, into a
sparking pile of debris as soon as the firing stopped.
	The outlined figure stepped forward again, tiny wisps of smoke trailing
from six small barrels on its left arm. Two medicine ball-sized objects
swung into place behind it, and once again the alley was illuminated by
fire. The mechanized suit of armor rode high into the sky on this trail of
flame, not resting until it landed on the roof of the Caribou Shipping
offices a few blocks away.

	Jonathan Meyer raised the heavy titanium-Endurium face shield of the Ice
Suit and looked north towards downtown Sable City. 'So it begins,' he said
to himself. 'I've committed myself to this life... again. So be it.' He
lowered the face shield and turned to the east, igniting his thrusters and
soaring off into the sky...

----
(<To be continued...>)
----

Author's Ramblings: I waffled on whether to put that last part in, but I
decided what the hell, might as well tease you with a little skirmish :)
	Yes, the next chapter is when the 'action' starts. No, I haven't introduced
all the secondary characters yet. Yes, I'm almost done my dronings here :)
	Comments to mikew@atcon.com prior to Sept. 96, aj331@ccn.cs.dal.ca after
Sept. 96. Be honest, and thanks for reading!!