Jack Frost
Another Story of Bubblegum Crisis

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(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.
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Episode 4: In Fear of Hope

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(<July 30, 2031, 1:14 PM. Sable City PD, 12th Precinct>)
	"Whelp, he finally did it," SCPD Lieutenant Bill Davis said. "Meyer finally
showed himself."
	His partner, Lieutenant Maria Perez, simply nodded. Despite being wrong in
her prediction that Jonathan Meyer, former CEO of NovaRobotics and now a
fugitive armed with perhaps the world's most powerful suit of powered armor,
would strike on the 19th, she was certain he'd poke his head up sooner or
later. Meyer's targets, however, were more than a surprise to the two of them.
	"Boomers," Maria said, shaking her head. "It doesn't make sense. Why is he
only attacking boomers?"
	Davis shrugged. "I dunno... he isn't too fond of them. He fought very hard
against letting *any* boomers into the city when he ran the place. Maybe
this is his way of making some sort of statement."
	"Statement?" Maria responded, a little exasperated. "This doesn't fit into
our profile of him... I seriously doubt he's become some sort of
boomer-killer with no purpose other than to fry every one of those metallic
zombies... but what is he trying to achieve? He made no effort to conceal
his work, we've got plenty of witnesses, photos, and video footage of him in
action... we haven't recieved any demands or threats... there's no pattern,
no purpose, at least none I can see."
	"A decoy?" Davis suggested. "He might be doing this to deliberately throw
us off the trail so we're lost when he turns on his real target, whatever
that may be..."
	"Possible," Maria allowed, "or he may just be trying to get back into favor
with the public. No fewer than six people have come forward saying he saved
their lives..."
	"And two of them want to sue him for.. what was it? Reckless use of a
firearm.. a very *large* firearm... and destruction of property." Davis
interjected.
	Maria cracked a grin at that. "Yeah, can't do anything for some people.
Anyway, if we do haul him in, those two are gonna have to wait in line. What
with all the charges he's facing, the sun'll go nova before we have to let
him out..."
	"Big if..." Davis murmured. "I wonder if..."
	Just then detective Percy Jordan stuck his head into the room. "I was just
in to see Longobardi. He says he wants to see you two, ASAP."
	"Wonder what he wants..." Maria grumbled.

	"Lieutenants Perez and Davis, meet Commander Henry Jenkins, Canadian Armed
Forces," Longobardi said, gesturing to the tall dark-haired man standing
next to him. "He's been assigned to CFB Sable to head up the unit designated
to subdue Meye..."
	"Suppose we skip the introductions?" Jenkins asked, obviously very annoyed
at something. "I know these two lieutenants of yours have been conducting an
unauthorized investigation into the incident at NovaRobotics and Meyer's
recent actions. I want it stopped. Now."
	"Now hold on one goddamned minute!" Maria challenged. "What gives makes you
think you have the authority to tell the SCPD how to conduct an investi..."
	"Perez, shut up!" snapped Longobardi. Then he turned to Jenkins, who was
now wearing a somewhat smug look. "Answer her question."
	"I've been given *full* authority over this matter by both the RCMP and
CAFCOM," Jenkins sneered, "and the last thing we need is two amateur
lieutenants sticking their noses into places they don't belong. You'd
probably both be in body bags within a week anyway."
	"So what brilliant minds do *you* have on the case, *Commander*?" Maria
asked mockingly.
	"Perez..." Longobardi said, his tone indicating she should just back off.
	"No, it's alright captain," Jenkins turned to Maria, a predatory smile on
his face. "We have three special RCMP teams on the case, under my command,
naturally. We also have all the resources of the RCMP and CAF at our
disposal. What do *you* have?"
	"*We* have a working theory as to Meyer's motive *plus* a fairly good idea
of where he's going to strike at sooner or later. How about *that*?" Maria
fired back. She watched, satisfied, as Jenkins was brought up short by her
statement. Davis stared at her questioningly, but to his credit kept his
mouth shut. She wasn't about to tell this commander that after the past few
days, their theories were in serious doubt.
	"Really? I'm impressed." Jenkins replied, his tone of voice setting off
warning bells in Maria's head. "Perhaps we should discuss the case, say,
tonight?"
	It was all she could do to keep from leaping at the man and throttling him
until he choked to death. She wanted to scream out 'Like hell, you goddamned
pervert!', but instead simply refused in the coldest voice she could manage.
	"More's the shame..." Jenkins said. "Anyway, you'll be happy to know I've
reconsidered. You two can stay on the case, but I'm afraid you'll have to be
placed under my command." He smirked at Maria while speaking those last two
words. Before she could kill him, however, Longobardi interrupted.
	"Like hell!" he erupted. "No way am I transferring two of my most trusted
officers to work for some CAF Merc like you!"
	'Most trusted officers?' Maria said to herself in surprise. After all,
she'd barely been there a month. In any case, she wasn't surprised to find
out that this Commander Jenkins was a Merc, a soldier hired away from
another country's armed forces. He didn't seem like the loyal
defend-your-homeland type soldier.
	"Watch it, captain," Jenkins snapped. "Little outbursts like that have been
known to end careers. And with the right phone calls..."
	"Don't threaten me, you little puke!" Longobardi said vehemently. "Now my
officers are staying on the case, and under *my* command! You have any
problems with that, you either talk to the Commandant or God, because those
are the only two people I take those kinds of orders from. Got that?!"
	"Fine," Jenkins replied, still angry but obviously beaten. "It's a pity we
couldn't come to terms... I expect any and all findings to be reported to me
*immediately*. If you're holding something back, I'll have your badge before
you can blink."

----

(<July 30, 2031, 11:43 PM. SIODMP Level 12>)
	Dr. Sarah McInnley turned her head as one of the many concealed doorways in
the vast bay hissed open. She watched as an armored behemoth stepped out of
it, its heavy footfalls reverberating throughout the bay.
	"Rough night, Jon?" she asked, taking note of the smudges and chips in the
Ice Suit's armor, and the weariness with which it walked. She had, of
course, monitored him throughout the evening on the console she was seated
at, assisting him by performing routine tasks like adjusting the Ice Suit's
power levels and monitoring its systems by remote, so she knew the powered
armor had weathered tonight's storm of activity. It was Jon she was worried
about.
	Jonathan Meyer raised the heavy Endurium-coated cowl of the Ice Suit,
showing Sarah his tired expression. "Not rough," he said, looking at her
through the coated plexiglass bubble that acted as sort of a backup sheild
underneath the cowl. "Just exhausting." His voice was relayed through
external speakers, the armor itself being all but soundproof.
	"Twenty-one tonight, Jon. A new record." The Ice Suit had proven more than
capable of handling the C-type boomers it most commonly faced, and
completely outmatched any human threat. Still, the operator inside was
human, prone to fatigue and judgement errors. Sarah was worried Jon would
burn himself out, the way he kept insisting on patrolling the city every
night either in the ISAMU armored vehicle or on foot like tonight. The was
also the police to worry about, but so far they hadn't managed to so much as
spot him. Jon had reassured Sarah that if they did, he could escape easily
without having to hurt anyone. She hoped he was right.
	"Ten mad boomers, six armed robberies, four assaults, and a drive-by
shooting." Jon said sullenly, despairing at the deteriorating conditions
high above in Sable City.
	"Yeah..." Sarah murmured. "C'mon, Jon, let's get you out of that thing."
	Jon plodded up to the platform where the Ice Suit was stored, the scramble
rack, and planted the Ice Suit's four-pronged feet into the niches provided
for them. He then lowered his arms to his sides, the large weapons module on
his left arm reaching well past the Ice Suit's knee, which itself was higher
up on the leg than human proportions would suggest. He flicked two switches
inside the left arm with his left index finger, powering the suit down and
locking its joints in place. Also inside that little air pocket surrounding
his left hand was the control joystick for aiming some weaponary and driving
the ISAMU, as well as thruster controls, missile controls, sensor systems,
and nearly everything vital to the Ice Suit's operation. His right hand was
encompassed in a sensor-coated glove, which operated the hand unit on the
Ice Suit's right arm. He shed this glove and released the joystick now in
preperation for disembarking the armor.
	Small waldos and magnetic pads started moving over the Ice Suit. Three
waldos entered tiny holes on the left arm, and the weapons module gave a
soft 'kthunk' and began to slide off. It was then lifted away by two
magnetic pads and set on a shelf beside the powered armor. Jon's left hand
stuck out of a hole on the end of the suit's left arm, which with the
removal of the weapons module was barely wider than Jon's arm. Soon, waldos
had unlocked the entire suit and they retracted. Magnetic pads on the end of
skinny mechanical limbs attached themselves to various spots on the suit's
armor and pulled. The Ice Suit blossomed open, and Jon stepped down and out
of it.
	He did indeed look exhausted. Operating a suit of powered armor still
required a great deal of stamina, and wearing one for more than five hours
straight would wear anyone out. Jon wanted to stay and help Sarah assess the
damage to the Ice Suit, but she insisted he get some rest. He didn't resist
too much, another indication of how tired he was.
	Once he left Sarah prompted the machinery to reseal the Ice Suit for her
inspection. There were several nicks and pockmarks, as well as a long gouge
on the abdomen and a large scorch mark on the left chest-mounted missile bay
hatch. None had come close to penetrating the armor, though, so that was a
relief. Also, the spotlight on the left thruster had been blown out. Sarah
smirked at that. The spotlight was always the first thing to go, and they
had gone through six of them already.
	Sarah was unconcerned about any of those chips of armor being retrieved by
NovaRobotics and used to rediscover Endurium. One of the primary concerns
when building the Ice Suit was that Endurium could easily be discovered by
the enemy in a similar manner so every prototype was coated in a layer of
experimental nanites. Normally they remained dormant, magnetically attached
to the suit's surface, but once they sensed that the piece of armor they
rode on was no longer attached to the Ice Suit, they activated themselves
and converted the Endurium armor into a useless blob of mineral-rich goo.
They had never failed in any test she had concieved for them, so she was
satisfied they worked.
	After examining the missile bays, thrusters, interior structure, reactors,
and the fuel-regeneration system for the thrusters, Sarah estimated repairs
to take roughly twenty minutes. Most of that would be spent applying and
re-firing an Endurium coating to the damaged areas, something she had had a
lot of practice at over the last few days. The other repairs were also
minor, so they could wait until the morning.

----

(<August 2, 2031, 11:23 AM. SIODMP Level 13>)
	"What form of martial arts is that?" Sarah inquired, watching Jon excercise
next to the repair bay.
	"Kenpo," he replied, thrusting forward suddenly with two open palms. He was
wearing one of the black-and-grey bodysuits he wore while operating the Ice
Suit, and he stood on a large blue mat Sarah hadn't seen before.
	"Kenpo? I've never heard of it." she said, circling Jon and watching him
practice.
	"It's... it's a very fluid form of martial arts," he explained, suddenly
executing a low spin kick. "Like water. It's designed to flow from one move
to the next. The idea is not to attack, but rather place your opponents in
vunerable positions by using their attacks. When you finally do strike,
power is used intermittently... but effectively." Jon then began a rapid
series of open-palmed jabs at the air, his hands moving almost faster than
Sarah could keep track.
	"Interesting. You do this often?" she asked.
	"Every so often. It helps calm my nerves."
	Sarah frowned. "What with the risks you take sometimes, maybe I should take
it up..."

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(<August 2, 2031, 8:57 PM. Alley behind JaelTek Security Systems, Inc.
warehouses>)
	The man formerly known as Vinnie Jordan lay face-up in a dead-end alley,
his lifeless eyes staring lazily into the night sky. Three men, two cops and
a man in a dark suit, stood over the freshly-killed corpse.
	"So what'd he do?" asked one of the cops.
	"I dunno, something about holding some of the reciepts from the football
pool," replied the man in the suit. "Boss didn't give me many details."
	The other cop toed the dead body. "Guess he just got greedy, huh?"
	"Yeah... you two see me do it?"
	"Not really. We heard some shots and came runnin'. Then we found you."
	The suited man frowned. "Guess I gotta be more careful in the future," He
pulled out two well-padded envelopes and passed them to the officers. "For
your trouble." he grinned.
	The two cops returned his grin and were about to walk away when an intense
light flooded the area.
	"Well well," boomed an amplified voice. "Doesn't this sound like a
wonderful headline? 'Cops on the take let murder suspect walk.'"
	All three of the men drew weapons, aiming them at the source of the light
on the rooftop in front of them. "A better headline," one of the cops shot
back. "'Heroic police officers nab dangerous criminal who tries to deflect
charges with false accusations.'"
	"Or maybe 'Cops gun down criminal, awarded medals of valor'" the other one
said, grinning at his partner.
	"Keep dreaming." the voice shot back derisively. A low rumble filled the
alley as the figure that voice belonged to soared up and over the three
mens' heads on jets of flame, landing behind them in the alley. Upon landing
the spotlight shut off, the figure reduced to a silhoutte. The three men
spun, training their weapons on it.
	"Alright, no more games," the first cop barked. "Outta the armor, now!"
	"My, we are the bossy ones tonight, aren't we?" mocked the voice. He
watched the second cop raise his flashlight and point it at him.
	"Wha... who the hell are you?!?!" the first cop asked, shocked. He had
expected to see Meyer's Ice Suit, not... not *this*.
	The figure stepped forward into the light from a streetlamp mounted on the
building's wall. Whoever the person was, they were wearing a smallish
blue-and-silver suit of powered armor. Its left hand held some sort of
slender, elongated rifle. A spotlight had been mounted on its left shoulder
and there was some sort of bulbous protrusion on the right arm.
	"No-one of importance,"  the voice replied. "Now drop the guns and..." The
figure stopped, tilting its head slightly as if listening to something. Then
it lowered its weapon and stared at the group. "You're lucky... you got off
this time, but one of these days I'll nab you again." The suit of powered
armor then lifted off into the night, flame spewing from the pack on its
back, leaving three very confused men below.

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(<August 2, 2031, 9:10 PM. South Side HoverPort>)
	Jon was not having a good time.

	Sarah's original estimate of six boomers on a rampage in the HoverPort had
proven a bit off. Over twenty confronted him now, fourteen already destroyed
and six still wrecking hovercraft and smashing machinery. This was insane,
he kept telling himself. Boomers didn't go mad in packs. This was deliberate.
	Jon had to break off his train of thought to duck as a boomer threw a small
electric cart at him. The cart impacted on the wall behind him, denting it
and demolishing the cart. He raised his MSA-2 weapons module, aimed it at
the boomer, and fired. Other boomers dived out of the way, but this one
started convulsing as bullets pierced its body at a fearsome rate. Jon
released the trigger on the joystick and the firing stopped. The boomer
collapsed, sparking, barely retaining its shape.
	While Jon was doing this, seven boomers managed to sneak in behind him.
Sarah warned him over the comm channel that they were about to pounce and he
spun, firing. One of them, however, managed to latch onto the Ice Suit's
back, and was now frantically trying to pull off the Endurium face sheild
which protected the pilot. Jon reached over his head with the right hand
unit and grabbed the boomer's head. He crushed it, and then flung the
boomer's body at a crowd of boomers in front of him.
	One of the other boomers caught on to this idea and leapt onto the left
thruster and began wrenching it savagely. Jon crushed its head too, but not
before damage warnings began blaring inside the suit.
	"I had to shut down your thrusters," Sarah explained as Jon clubbed a
charging boomer with his MSA-2. "The left one's barely holding on, and you
were leaking fuel all over the place."
	Three boomers dove at Jon, attempting to knock the Ice Suit off its feet.
They would have succeeded if not for the fact that Jon had activated the
suit's stabilizing systems. Magnetic pads on the bottom of the foot units
came to full power a split second after the boomers hit the powered armor,
locking it securely onto the metallic surface of the hoverpad. The boomers
fell at his feet, and Jon took them out with a short burst from his miniguns.
	He looked up in time to see a massive charge by the remaining boomers, the
closest one a good 100 meters off. Jon smiled grimly as he flicked a switch,
the missile hatches on his chest snapping open. Upon seeing this, half the
boomers dove behind some nearby machinery or just plain turned tail and ran.
For the rest, however, it was too late.
	The Ice Suit was enveloped in a cloud of smoke as over a dozen missiles
streaked out of its bays, vectoring in on their preassigned targets. Boomers
just starting to dodge were caught and blown apart by the flashlight-sized
missiles, pieces of them flung for hundreds of meters before hitting the
ground. When the smoke cleared, all but eight of the boomers had been destroyed.
	Jon resealed the now-empty missile bays and readied himself for their
inevitable charge. Four of the six internal miniguns on his left-hand MSA-2
were disabled during the battle, either by ammo jams or physical damage. His
electromagnetic disruptor was operating at 10% power, its batteries
recharging at a dreadfully slow rate. He was on even terms with these
boomers, their numbers and his damage at least equalling his advantage of
Endurium armor.
	One of the boomers let out an electronic shriek and began running towards
the Ice Suit, but was brought up short by a bolt out of the blue. It looked
up at a figure descending on jets of flame, firing laser shots at them from
some sort of rifle. Then it looked around, witnessing the firey deaths of
its comrades. Finally, it charged suicidally at the new attacker, screaming
like a banshee as blue-white fire enveloped it...

	Jon regarded the newcomer outfitted in a suit of blue-silver powered armor.
Whoever it was turned to Jon, seemingly glaring at him, and jetted off into
the sky.
	"Showoff," Jon muttered, watching the figure ascend. "Always was, always
will be..."

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(<August 2, 2031, 9:43 PM. NovaRobotics Corporate HQ>)
	Failure. The very word sent waves of revulsion coursing through her body.
Failure was not something she handled well, not in herself and certainly not
in others.
	Tonight's failure, she admitted, was quite probably no-one's fault. No-one
had expected anyone to come to Meyer's aid, especially not someone outfitted
in powered armor that - while not as powerful as the Ice Suit - far
outclassed anything the military or even NovaRobotics possessed. Then again,
not anticipating such an eventuality was also a failure. Linda Alden gritted
her teeth. Heads were going to roll...

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(<To be Continued...>)
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Author's Ramblings: Um, not much to say except if you didn't get the earlier
parts, email me ( mikew@atcon.com prior to Sept. 96, aj331@ccn.cs.dal.ca
after ).

Oh, you might've noticed a few obscure refences to othrt anime, TV shows, or
even video games in this 'fic. It's a twisted semi-tradition of mine. :)

Finally, I mighta forgot to mention this, but all of these episodes I've
been posting are either alphas or drafts - all written without the aid of a
spellchecker. Excuses filed for your approval :)
									- MW